A/N: Thanks for your reviews, favorites and follows! Huge thanks to lanamarymack as usual :) Please let me know what you thought of chapter twenty-four and be on the lookout for chapter twenty-five soon!
Hermione could not allow herself to think over Fenrir's offer to make things permanent. She might be naive, but there was no fairytale world in which she could remain working for him, not when she was for all intents and purposes a cop. There was nothing for her and him when her assignment was over. There were to be no clandestine meetings or secret meet ups, even if that was what her heart wanted more than anything.
No matter how much she wished it wasn't true, she could no longer ignore the truth that had been bubbling up in her chest for weeks now. She loved him. God, she was in love with Fenrir Greyback. She was ruined.
The worst part about it was that she knew even if she came clean to him — told him all of the sordid details of role and the feelings that had sprouted in her — he would never want her again. He would toss her aside as easily as she would toss aside a crumpled piece of parchment paper.
She longed for this to end.
She wished it never would.
But, she was at the mercy of someone else's timeline. She checked her mobile more times than she had all assignment, praying that she would have some sort of communication from Remus or Sirius. Remus still hadn't been back to the warehouse. If Fenrir was concerned or if it was unusual, he hadn't mentioned anything to her. Maybe he thought it was better that way — still too worried about any feelings between her and his fixer to bring up his absence.
Hermione did the best that she could to do as she was told... keep her head down and not raise any eyebrows. She tried not to worry about how precarious it all felt, teetering on the edge of what was the right thing to do. She spent her days waffling between wanting to tip Fenrir off more and wanting to run away from all her problems.
Fenrir did try to keep her busy at least. It was so obvious that he was trying to show her just how much he needed her, just how integral she was to his success. The score that he promised did come in, though Hermione wasn't sure it was large enough for him to need her help. Obviously, he'd been doing something before she showed up and she was sure that he would be able to handle it all on his own.
He hovered over her in the little laundry room every day, watching her load money into her dryer while she detailed the best way to break in the brand new notes. At least he was trying to pretend like he was learning from her, following through on his promise to convince her to stay. While the cycle would run, instead of returning to his office where he was almost certainly sorely needed, he would stay tucked away with her, making out until the buzzer went off and then some.
That wasn't to say that he couldn't focus when the time came. When they did return to his office, Hermione was able to describe her method and cadence of cash drop offs. Anything too regular was suspicious, while anything too wildly out of the norm would raise eyebrows, too. She told him about how she had ramped up and ramped down the drops while they worked through his huge pile of money. They poured over the books together, trying to come up with a new normal now that he didn't have such a large backlog.
"What are you going to do with all the money anyway?" she asked him, one evening over take away. He wasn't a flashy man, that was for certain. And as far as she could tell, it wasn't like he lived lavishly.
Fenrir shrugged his shoulders. "I don't like to show off," he told her, without any smirks or bravado. "I suppose I just like to feel comfortable. Feel a bit of security."
Hermione pressed her finger to the line in his books that showed the most recently tallied amount. "Well, certainly you must feel quite secure now," she said, giving him a shy smile of her own. "I am sure you could fuck off the rest of your life and never go through it."
"You'd be surprised," he said with a laugh, mirth in his blue eyes. "And, you have to remember that's not all mine. I've got all my people to worry about and take care of too. I can't just fuck off with all that money and leave them high and dry. Wouldn't be very fair would it?"
"No," she agreed, feeling her heart ache. None of that would be very fair. "What if... if you could splurge? What would you do with it? Exotic vacation? Fabulous flat? Sex, drugs and alcohol?"
"Careful, it sounds like you are describing a great time," he joked with her, before shaking his head. "Nah, that's not really me. I mean... my flat could probably use an upgrade. And, maybe my rum collection would expand. Maybe I could lavish it on my girl, if that's what she wanted."
Hermione could feel her heart hammering away in her chest, wondering if he knew just how much a simple look could affect her.
"What do you want, Hermione?" he asked, his voice an octave lower than usual.
"I don't need fancy trips or presents," she whispered back, unable to break his gaze. "I can't say I'm particularly obsessed with money myself."
He chuckled at her pronouncement. "Then why do you do what you do?" he asked her, a curious look on his face.
She shrugged her shoulders, wishing she could say anything that wouldn't sound completely mad. "I guess I'm good at it?" she said, hating how utterly lame that sounded. She wished that she had any real drive or ambition to point to. "And I do need to make some money, I suppose."
"You are good at it," Fenrir confirmed for her, perhaps realizing that she needed a bit of a pick me up, no matter how small it was. "You've been with me only for a couple of months and you are so good that I can't imagine living without you now. And, I'd be saying that even if I weren't into you."
Hermione fought off a smile, pleased with the compliment, no matter how clumsy it had come out. "Well, I promise to get you into tip top shape, so you can keep this place running, even if I'm not here," she promised, once again. She didn't want to give him false hope about her being with him forever because it was not a real possibility. "For when you are eventually not into me."
"Not possible, Peach," he reassured her, before pressing forward so that he could catch her lips in a kiss. His large hand slipped into her hair, tilting her exactly how he wanted her.
The brunette sighed into him, lips parted. She wanted to commit this feeling to memory, because despite Fenrir's denials, she knew that their relationship was going to have to come to an end, eventually. As they so often did, their kiss quickly grew more passionate, before Hermione was putting every ounce of feeling that she had for the large man into her kiss, willing him to understand. Pulling away, she gave him a soft smile. He brought his hand up to cup her cheek and she turned into him, thinking of how lovely all of this was. But then, she stood up regretfully.
"I'll just go get another stack of bills from the vault," she suggested, knowing that they needed to keep things moving forward. "Meet me in the laundry?"
Fenrir was only too happy to comply, knowing that they could have some more alone time once the bills were in their cycle. Hermione walked down the labyrinthine hallways that she now knew like the back of her hand, wondering how she'd ever worried about getting lost in there before. Kneeling down, she grabbed a couple of stacks of bills, though not as many as she would run before. At least Fenrir could look forward to a marginally decreased electrical bill when she moved on.
She was walking the familiar route to the laundry room when she started to hear shouting. Confused, she stopped in her tracks and redirected herself out into the main atrium. Biting her lip, she knew that this was not ideal to do when holding such a large quantity of money, but she couldn't help herself, she had to know what was going on. The shouting hadn't stopped, if anything, it had only gotten louder.
Rounding the corner, Hermione was stunned to see dozens of officers, each in their polyester zip ups with the word 'Police' emblazoned on the back. Too shocked to do anything, Hermione's hands dropped to her sides, the bills falling to the floor in a flutter, slipping free of their protective currency bands, while she watched the precarious house of cards that she had built come tumbling down.
Hermione could feel anger bubbling up inside of her when she realized that the team had decided to move in that day without even mentioning it to her. Instead, they just kicked in the doors, guns drawn, demanding that everyone get down on the ground. Sirius had told her to sit tight, but couldn't he have given her a warning not to show up that day? This felt entirely too dangerous for her liking and he promised that he wouldn't let her get hurt.
It felt odd to realize that this was truly the end. She didn't want to admit it, but she was disappointed that it was all over and all that was left for her was a return to her little desk job, reviewing the bank accounts of other people, rather than making money move how she wanted it to. She had been good at money laundering. She had been good with people, she thought, a hint of pride that burned away inside of her. After all, she had gotten the trust and respect of men like Fenrir Greyback, Antonin Dolohov, and even Tom Riddle!
The least her team could have done would be to warn her. That way she would have been able to come to terms with the fact that she was out of the field now. Bitterly, she remembered just how much she had resisted this assignment at first. Now, she didn't want it to end.
She watched, still too shocked to speak, as an agent pressed Stan up against the wall far too harshly for her tastes, even though he wasn't resisting. It was so loud, all of the agents shouting discordant orders to all of Fenrir's people, around the room. Hermione wasn't really sure what she was meant to do with herself.
That was until she saw them hauling Fenrir out of his office, his arms secured behind his back. He was not going down easy. He fought and kicked the whole time and it took three agents to restrain him. Hermione only just realized how much larger than life he seemed, standing nearly half a head taller than even Dean Thomas, the tallest officer in her class.
Pure murder blazed in Fenrir's blue eyes when he caught sight of Remus standing in the doorway. For once, he was not wearing his signature leather jacket, but the same police jacket that all the rest of them wore. For whatever reason, it only made him seem like more of a narc than he already was.
Unable to stop herself, Hermione called out for him, needing to look him in the eyes just one last time. "Fenrir!" she shouted.
He turned to look at her immediately and as soon as they made eye contact, Hermione was surprised by just how guilty she felt for betraying Fenrir how she had. It ate away at her, twisting her stomach into knots. She wondered if he knew. She wished that she could talk to him, to tell him how she really felt — how much she loved him — but she knew that she would never get the chance. Swallowing thickly, she reminded herself that she'd tried to warn him, tried to tip him off about his books, and that was all she could do.
An agent ran up to her, grinning and Hermione realized that it was Ron. He was obviously chuffed to finally see some action now that he was out of training. "Look boys," he said, his tone jocular and teasing. "That big brute has got himself a girl!"
"Don't touch her!" Fenrir snarled, resuming his fight against his handcuffs, trying to get to her.
Ron grinned at her again. "You don't mind, do you Miss?" he asked, before pulling her hands behind her back and putting a set of handcuffs on her.
"What—" she started, only to have Fenrir cut her off.
"Don't say a single word, Peach!" he shouted, needing her to listen. "Don't say anything. We will get a solicitor sorted out and you will be out of this mess in no time. I promise."
And then, Hermione realized that he didn't know. He hadn't figured out that she had been in on this all along. How could he not, she wondered? Why wouldn't his mind immediately jump to the conclusion that the girl that Remus had brought in would be working for him, too? It only made the knife of betrayal twist deeper in Hermione's guts.
"I won't," she promised, though it felt hollow.
"Take him out of here," Remus ordered and the agents all jumped. Then, Fenrir was being pulled out of the front of the warehouse, leaving her with Ron.
Her friend leaned in close enough to whisper into her ear. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes, 'Mione," he said. "Can you believe it? My first raid."
Hermione wasn't entirely sure what to say to that. "What's happening?" she asked, hoping to get a little bit of clarification on what she had just walked into.
"It's finally over," Ron explained. "They think that they have more than enough to put Greyback away."
"And why am I still in handcuffs?" she asked, already detesting the bite of the metal on her wrists.
"It's just part of the procedure. Don't worry, you'll be out of this soon," he reassured her. "Now, put on a good show for the rest of Greyback's men, okay? Just act like I've said something really awful to you."
"Get your hands off me!" Hermione shouted, her voice sounding shrill and echoing in the noisy atrium. It immediately got the attention of some of the other men around the room. With their eyes on them, she tried to twist away from Ron's gasp, only to hurt herself from the restraints. She let out a gasp of pain and that wasn't just for show.
"Hey, don't hurt her!" one of the men — maybe Travers, she thought — shouted. "She's a woman. Let her go."
Ron just gave the man a grin. "Yeah, well she's still a criminal, isn't she?" he teased, before pushing Hermione forward so she would walk. "Let's go, sweetheart."
Her feet felt like led, but she was able to put one in front of the other, until she was at the door of the warehouse. This all felt like some kind of horrible nightmare, but no matter how tightly she closed her eyes, when she opened them, she still hadn't woken up.
Ron walked her over to a police car and opened the backseat, his hand resting tenderly on the back of her head while he helped her inside. He reached over her so that he could buckle her in safely, but he didn't remove the handcuffs from behind her back. "This will all be over soon, 'Mione, I promise," he said, wincing when he saw how uncomfortable she looked. "It's just a little bit longer and then things can go back to normal."
Without waiting for her to respond, he shut the door, leaving her alone with her thoughts. As soon as he was gone, the tears sprung to her eyes and she wondered when she'd started feeling so sorry for herself. Mostly, she was just sorry that she'd ever agreed to go along with all of this. She could still remember the fire in Fenrir's eyes when he glared at Remus. She didn't think she could stand it if he looked at her the same way.
But really, she deserved it. She'd set him up to fail. Would they have ever had enough evidence to arrest Fenrir if it wasn't for her?
Really, she thought she should be more concerned about how she was still sitting in the back of this police cruiser in handcuffs. Did they know about all of the hints that she'd dropped to Fenrir, suggestions that he get a second set of books to hide what he was really up to? Did they suspect that she had turned her allegiance, too deep in the pull of Fenrir's charisma? Or maybe they thought that she was just a dirty cop and enough money sent her way could make her act dishonorably?
What if this was all just a horrible joke and they were arresting her for real? A part of her wanted to dismiss that out of hand. Ron would never do something like that to her. Unless... Ron didn't know what was really going on. Maybe they had assured him it would be just for show. After all, Remus had been avoiding her for more than a week at this point. Was he able to put two and two together?
Hermione let out a shrill scream and kicked her feet against the seat in front of her. God, how had things gotten so out of hand? How had she fallen so deeply for a criminal like Fenrir Greyback. And how the fuck was she supposed to move on past this?