A/N: Thank you for your reviews, favorites and follows! Huge thanks to lanamarymack for alpha/beta reading this chapter! You can find me over on tumblr (nauticalparamour).
Please let me know what you thought of chapter three and be on the lookout for chapter four soon!
It had actually taken quite a lot of reassurance to convince Sirius that she was well and truly okay to be left alone with Fenrir. In the end, he had still looked suitably concerned, eyebrows furrowed together, while he mumbled about maybe Remus being right.
"You are the one who begged me to do this, remember?" she asked, annoyed to hear that Remus had apparently been gossiping about her again.
Chastised, Sirius agreed to let Fenrir become a confidential informant and keep Hermione on as his handler. She wasn't entirely sure why he was surprised about... whatever it was that was still simmering between her and Fenrir. It wasn't as if she hadn't practically confessed her deepest feelings to him once before, when she was upset that Fenrir wouldn't take things further with her.
Maybe, maybe Sirius had never let him consider that things had progressed further. Maybe, he was just hoping if he buried his head in the sand, he could pretend that Fenrir didn't have any ulterior motives for requesting her to be his handler.
Ultimately, it seemed as if Sirius's fears were unfounded, though there was no chance in hell that Hermione would ever tell him that. Better to let him sweat. No, despite their initial reintroduction, Fenrir had been rather cold to her, determined to make each one of their meetings totally unpleasant, punishing her for the way that she had treated him.
It was determined that Hermione should move back into the flat, so that she would remain available at any time that Fenrir might need her. Her office arranged for her to be able to continue her work by providing a laptop so she could pour over spreadsheets during the day. She and Sirius would meet up at the pub every now and then to exchange thumb drives to pass data back and forth, though it was limited. If anyone was watching her, they didn't want her being connected to the police in any capacity.
Hermione was a bit unnerved knowing that Fenrir could just drop in on her any time of day. It was a bit embarrassing, but it did help her get up and dressed every day, even though she could just as easily work in her pajamas. Fenrir had liked her pajamas, her mind conjured traitorously. God, she could still remember how he'd made her come, in the very bedroom of the flat she was confined to.
Even though he could drop in at any moment, Fenrir usually only bothered to stop by her flat on Tuesday nights, cigar smoke clinging on his well-fitting shirts. He would swagger into the living room like he owned the place, before flopping down onto the settee, taking up more than his share of space with his large frame.
He was always gruff with her, commanding that everything would be easier with a bit of rum between them. Hermione hated feeling like she was waiting hand and foot on him, but she would oblige and return from the kitchen with a glass in hand for each of them.
It took Fenrir a few minutes to decompress. He would drop his head back between sips of rum, letting his eyes close and the stress fade away. She knew that he must carry some nerves about what he was doing — betraying Tom Riddle and Antonin and everyone else that he'd built a connection with — even if it was the only way that he could live moving forward. She knew the feeling well enough herself.
So that's why she didn't kick up too much of a fuss when he asked for a drink.
She liked to watch his face during this time, in the beginning before all of the details came spilling out of his mouth and they were trading snide quips back and forth — too much left unsaid between them. He was just as striking as she remembered, with his deep blue eyes and stubble on his cheeks. She longed to trace her finger across his face, cataloging every detail so that she would not forget the side Fenrir she knew before she hurt him.
Sometimes she wondered if she made the first move, if she kissed him, could all be forgiven?
But, when she woke up in the mornings, cold and alone in a flat that wasn't even her, she forced herself to remember that Fenrir was the completely wrong person for her. And, even if he wanted more with her, their relationship would be doomed to failure, especially now that they were working together in a more official capacity. There was no way that this could lead to anything but heartbreak for her.
Eventually, Fenrir would break the silence between them, sitting up and staring at her with those impressive eyes. He would quickly spill the details on anything he'd learned since the last time they'd spoken and he was good at filling in the details that they didn't already have. Hermione studiously took notes of any pertinent information that he had about Tom Riddle to pass along to her higher ups.
Already, Hermione had been able to piece together an impressive web of co-conspirators who worked for Riddle. Of course, she already had a lot of details about Antonin Dolohov and his operation, but Fenrir had filled in the missing pieces.
He seemed especially eager to give up details on a woman called Bellatrix Lestrange, who he seemed to have a particular beef with. She was surprised to learn that she was the sister-in-law of Rabastan Lestrange, who Hermione had met already. "I'm surprised she is able to get much done," she told Fenrir, fighting off a smirk. "Rabastan seemed to have other matters on his mind."
"She is one of Riddle's most ardent supporters," Fenrir snapped at her. "Do not ever underestimate her or her husband Rodolphus, despite his fuck up of a brother."
With all of Fenrir's details about Riddle's associates and operations, they were sure to be able to build a pretty airtight case against them, brick by brick. He was even able to identify some businesses that Riddle used to funnel their money through — businesses that seemed completely legitimate, even with a deeper look. Riddle had an apparent habit of putting his property into the names of regular people, effectively shielding it from the police.
"How can he be sure that they won't just try to keep it for themselves?" she asked, chewing on her lower lip. The whole thing seemed rather tenuous to her.
Fenrir snorted and rolled his eyes at her, almost acting like it was the stupidest question that he'd ever heard. "Riddle has much too much power for anyone to try to do something stupid like that," he answered, with a sneer. "No one goes up against him and walks away from it unscathed."
"Isn't that what you are trying to do?" Hermione asked, nervously. Fenrir was obviously walking a dangerous tightrope, working so closely with Riddle while also being a confidential informant. And passing along such damning information as well. It felt like a losing game to hope that his treachery wouldn't be discovered eventually.
"Yeah, well, I guess that I will just have to get you guys enough stuff that you can take him down for good," he said, puffing his chest out and crossing his massive arms across his chest. "See if you don't fuck it up like you always do."
"Hey, we don't always mess up," she countered, feeling a little bit offended, even though it was not her division. "I managed to fool all of you, after all. I even met Tom once and he didn't realize."
"Well, be glad it was only once. It was only a matter of time before he saw right through you. I nearly had you figured out. You were always too good for me. But, I was blinded by what I wanted," he said, a dark look coming over his face.
This was the closest they had come to talking about the relationship that had existed between them previously. The acknowledgement that he had wanted her made her heartbeat quicken and a part of her longed to cross the room and settle into his lap, just like they used to sit in his office. It would be so easy for her to tell him that she still wanted him, too.
"And you were too happy to use that against me," he groused. Before she had the chance to respond to the accusation, he was talking again, in that bitter way of his. Like he enjoyed trying to hurt her. "And, Tom wouldn't want you, so there would be nothing to cloud his judgment. He'd see through you."
Hermione snapped her mouth shut, unsure of what to say to that. "We aren't going to fuck it up," she insisted, with a confidence she wasn't sure where it came from. "We are going to put him away for good this time."
"What do I care?" he asked, nihilistically. "If you fuck it up, I'll be dead anyway and then I really won't care what Tom Riddle does."
"Stop thinking that way," she ordered, imperiously. It wouldn't do him any good to believe that this was doomed to failure. It would just make him restless, unable to think clearly. "Remus is already training someone else to infiltrate—"
He cut her off before she could explain with a derisive laugh. "And, I can't believe that you really had me believing that there was nothing going on between you and Remus. Of course there was, he was the one who brought you to me," he said with a laugh, almost talking to himself more than her.
Oh, so they had moved on to this part of the night. The part when he no longer had any relevant details to share with her. He would find something to complain to her about — the uncomfortable pillows she had on the couch or the soft bossa nova she had playing in the background — just looking to pick an argument with her. He enjoyed arguing with her, watching her squirm but unwilling to back down.
Hermione secretly enjoyed it as well. It felt like foreplay to something else in a way. Only, nothing else ever came and then once he'd left, she would realize that he was as cold to her as ever. There were no fond feelings left for her and they weren't going to start up where they left off.
It seemed tonight's topic was going to be Remus, another albatross hung 'round their necks.
"Tell me, was it as hard on you as it was on him, knowing that he had to share you with me?" he asked, gleefully. "I bet it really got to him, knowing that his girlfriend was fucking me. Or did you try to keep that to yourself?"
She recoiled at the suggestion that she and Remus were together. "Remus and I are not, were not and never will be involved with one another," she answered, wanting to make that clear. "But no, he was not happy to learn that you were fucking me."
"You don't have to lie to me," he said, amused at her use of the word.
"I'm not lying," she said, before pulling her legs up onto the chair and wrapping her arms around them. It felt safer this way. "Though... it would not be for lack of desire on his part. I guess you were right about that, even if I was too blind to see it."
It was the first time that she had acknowledged Remus's obvious desire for a relationship with her. It had been months and he still could not comprehend that Fenrir was not the only thing that stood in the way of an imagined relationship between them. He was still there, with his longing looks and offers to grab drinks, though he was a bit bolder now that Fenrir was not looming over his shoulder.
Fenrir made a small noise in the back of his throat, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Well, good," he said, defiantly. He still wanted her to know that it was him who'd won the argument. He stood up from the settee, ready to leave for the evening, for the week — the same way he dropped in and out of her life at will now, without a care that he was leaving her waiting until he next showed up. "That's one thing you didn't lie about, at least."