Hermione woke to the sensation of fingers tracing a repetitive path on her lower back, the curve of her bum and the top of her thigh, while another arm held her close against a very warm surface that she eventually realised must be Antonin's chest. Her breath hitched a little as her sleep-muddled brain cleared enough for the recollection of the past few hours to rush through her.
They'd actually had sex.
She braced herself for the feelings of regret and shame to flood her mind but… they didn't arrive, so she relaxed into Antonin's hold once more. It was a nice feeling - not just because having so much of his skin against hers naturally felt pleasant because of the curse, but she also felt safe and protected in his arms. It wasn't often that she had the opportunity to be taken care of. From her moment of arrival at Hogwarts back in her first year, she had fought to show everyone that she didn't need any help even though she hadn't come from a magical family. In her friendships with Harry and Ron she had similarly never wanted them to see her as weaker just because she was a girl, and instead she became the dependable one, both intellectually and emotionally. She was happy to play that role and it wasn't exactly a burden because it came to her naturally, but she was also glad to be able to take a break and shut out the world and all her problems for a little while.
Content to lay in Antonin's arms for now, her mind returned to what they had shared. Having sex with him had correlated with her expectations about what would actually happen between them - there were no nasty surprises that he had obscured during the daydream - but the reality of what it had actually felt like was far beyond what she'd imagined.
She was so glad that she'd made him wait until the worst of the curse had passed because there was little chance she wouldn't have been swept along by the intensity of her relief the moment his touches had gotten more sexual, and she certainly wouldn't have much recollection of the actual sex itself. But the delay had allowed her to be present in the moment, to have the memories of what it had felt like to have his hands, mouth and tongue on previously forbidden parts of her body, how her body had yearned and ached for him in a different way to her curse's cycle that was almost just as unbearable before she found relief, how he had gazed on her with such awe and lust in his eyes that she had felt like the most desirable person in the world, how he had uncovered sexual wants and needs within her that she hadn't even known existed.
As though responding to her thoughts, her body gave an excited throb deep inside that caused another breathy catch in her throat. She consciously turned her focus on to her body to try and gauge how it was feeling in the wake of Antonin's various attentions without her actually having to move. Predominantly, the muscles were heavy and lethargic - not in a particularly bad way, it was just further evidence of her wish to remain still - but there was also a little bit of heightened awareness that although she was relatively comfortable right now, certain parts of her body would be tender should she move. That was primarily focused around her sex but her breasts felt a little sensitive pressed against Antonin's chest.
Heat warmed her cheeks as she recalled the various ways he'd attended to her breasts - and how much she'd liked it. She had only tried touching herself a couple of times in the past and hadn't found her fingers on her own breasts to be particularly pleasurable, but with Antonin it was completely different. Yes, she was especially responsive to his touch, but even without that she had a feeling that any partner who caressed, teased, licked and sucked her breasts and nipples the way that Antonin had would've had her writhing in rapture as sparks shot through her nerves right down to her scrunched up toes. And what had also surprised her was that when he'd told her to play with her own breasts, she could bring out some pleasure herself. Maybe it was because she was already in a heightened state of arousal, or that she'd lost most of her self-consciousness, or that she could still feel the wetness from his mouth on her flesh - perhaps it was a combination of all those things.
She suspected that Antonin's words were partly responsible too.
Again, she felt her face flush, and if her cheek wasn't already pressed against him she definitely would have succumbed to the urge to bury her face in response to the mixed feelings inside her - because it wasn't shame or disgust she was experiencing, even though she knew it probably should be with the crude way he spoke sometimes - and she would be both mortified and furious if anyone else spoke to her like he did. But with Antonin, the coarse language describing her and what he wanted to do with her, made her feel heady and disorientated in a way that she liked but didn't really understand why. She wasn't completely comfortable with the words he'd used but for some reason the dirtiness of it had excited her, heightened her arousal - a wrong that was acceptable in specific circumstances. It was a little shocking that he could bring out such a side of her - a side that no one else would probably believe existed, and she would very much prefer if that remained the case.
But his crude words had been strangely welcome in another way. They were a reminder that what they were doing was sex. A fulfilment of wants and desires, nothing more. She knew that another term for intercourse was 'making love' but that wasn't true for the two of them. They weren't lovers. Antonin might want her body but he didn't love her, and she didn't want them having sex to make matters confused in her head. Their situation was unique, complicated, and would surely be incomprehensible to anyone else and that meant she was the only one who could protect herself from what he stirred within her. She'd take any dose of reality that she could turn her mind to and his lewd words had certainly done away with any illusions of romance that her mind might have tricked her into believing she saw in his soft kisses and caresses, or the way he was still holding her tight after cleaning her so gently when they'd finished that she'd drifted off to sleep before he was done.
"I know you're awake, milaya," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her hair. "Are you just going to pretend to sleep for the rest of your time here?"
She pressed her body closer to him, hooking her foot over his ankle and her arm over his waist. "Maybe," she replied, her lips barely parting to form the word. "You're nice and warm."
He made a considering noise and walked his fingers down her spine. "Well, if it's heat you're after, I can think of one or two things we can do that'll get you fired up."
Her eyes snapped open at his suggestive tone and she leaned her head back to look at him. "What - again?"
He chuckled. "People are allowed to have sex more than once a day, milaya."
She rolled her eyes even as she felt her cheeks grow warmer. "No need to tease."
"Did you not enjoy it?" he asked, his hand still tracing over as much of her exposed skin as he could reach. "Is that why you don't want me to worship you again?"
"No - I - that's not…" She gave a little huff at the smirk on his face. "I did enjoy it - as you very well know, don't be smug." She pushed his shoulder. "And I didn't say I didn't want to - I just wasn't expecting you to proposition me the moment I woke up."
"Just because you're here longer now it doesn't mean we have all the time in the world," he said unapologetically. His finger traced her lips. "These are beautifully pink and swollen. If that's to fade before you leave, I'll have to stop kissing you soon. You can't walk out of here looking like I've just shagged you in case it tips off the aurors, so we need to leave enough time at the end for you to get cleaned and covered up."
"How practical of you," she said dryly but she knew his caution was wise. The last thing she wanted was Professor McGonagall to enquire about anything on her person that looked out of place on their return to the school.
The intense look he gave her caused a rapid double beating of her heart. "Now that I have you, I'm going to do whatever it takes to prevent anyone taking you away from me."
Despite the fervency of his tone, the lips he pressed against hers were surprisingly gentle and Hermione was mostly relieved that the kiss meant that she didn't have to form a response to his words. Even though she had hoped for and worked to secure some sort of bond forming on his part, his possessiveness made her apprehensive. She was sure that Antonin didn't love her, but the way he claimed her showed that some sort of feelings were present - dangerous ones when contained inside a man like him. It was manageable, providing he never left confinement. But if he escaped? Hermione had no idea what lengths he'd go to find her, she could only hope his desperation to lay his hands on her left him vulnerable to recapture by the Order - any other outcome left her as good as dead. And so she had given him what he wanted, told him what he'd wanted to hear even if she didn't actually believe it: she wasn't his. She didn't belong to anyone. She wasn't an object to control but a young woman who would make her own decisions.
Maybe it made her a bad person to lie to him, to manipulate him - particularly at such an intimate moment. Antonin had brought out yet another side of her that she hadn't known existed. But this wasn't a game. She was no longer a child. This was war. It wasn't just her life on the line. Harry relied on her, and the rest of the magical community hinged on him. She could pull Antonin deeper into her if it meant that people were safe - and it would hopefully save him, too, if she could overcome all the hate and bigotry inside him.
His lips became more demanding, increasing in pressure and need. "How do you feel?" he asked between kisses. "You're not sore anywhere, are you?"
She again tried to gauge how her body felt, shifting herself slightly as he continued to kiss and caress her. There was some lingering pain in her sex, a protest that she had been stretched and touched in a way her body wasn't used to, and her instinctive reaction to the possibility of him entering her again was unease. "A bit sensitive…" she admitted, feeling strangely shy, "…down there." She pulled her head back to ward off his kisses for now and forced herself to meet his eyes. "I don't think I'm ready to have sex again. To have you in me so soon would be too uncomfortable."
"Well, how about I kiss it better instead?" he proposed. She'd been expecting some sort of complaint or reminder of their limited time, so his response caught her off guard.
"What?"
He smirked and bent his head to her neck, kissing and licking her in a very distracting way. "When I said I wanted to eat you a few weeks ago," he said between kisses, "it actually involves a lot less biting than the term implies." He went silent then, leaving her with various mental images conjured up by his words as his lips worked steadily lower. She hadn't seen this type of sex in their daydream, just knew that he wanted to put his head between her legs and use his mouth to pleasure her. Excitement and desire tingled across her skin at even that vague outline with very few nerves because it had already felt so good when his mouth had been on her underwear, just like it had everywhere else. Almost on cue, Antonin placed a wet kiss on her breast, his lips making contact with the edge of her sensitive nipple and she let out a surprised gasp. He kissed her breasts all over and used lots of contact with his tongue but avoided her peaks, leaving her frustrated even though they were tender from the way he'd teased them before. Then his head moved lower, kissing the upper traces of her scar. It felt wonderful to have some of his touch there, just as it always did, but she felt strangely cheated and unsatisfied. "Wait."
He looked up but kept his mouth pressed to her skin and the sight, weight and feel of him in that moment had her throbbing with desire and clenching twinging muscles. He looked so damn attractive that she nearly forgot why she'd spoken. One hand was already buried in his hair and she lifted the other one towards her breasts, using the tips of her fingers to press gently on a nipple as he watched her intently. "If you're careful," she prompted, using a bit of pressure at the back of his head to urge him up again.
"Whatever you want, milaya," he said, following her lead to bring his mouth down on her breasts again. He softly kissed the nipple and then slowly circled his tongue around it, making her breath hitch in her throat. The sensitivity - almost painful but not quite - only seemed to heighten the sensation and make her nerves jump that extra bit more. She closed her eyes and luxuriated in the pleasurable feeling of having him hot, wet and soft against the sensitive peaks. Desire seemed to shoot in a direct line to her sex, making her flex and roll her hips to further her enjoyment.
"More," she sighed. "Not so gentle." He'd moved to her other breast by now and he suckled the peak, making her whimper with the intensity of the mixed sensations - but she didn't ask him to stop. He took more of her breast into his mouth and continued to suck. The hot, wet pressure on the tender flesh had her writhing under him more than ever and a moan escaped from her lips. She could feel herself getting wet between her legs as he moved from one breast to the other and added to her pleasure by stroking his fingers across her scar.
"Oh, milaya," he groaned as he lifted his mouth from her. "I can't wait to fuck you while I'm sucking on your tits."
Hermione's inner walls instinctively clamped down on nothing at his words. Merlin, what would that feel like? Temporarily lost in that fantasy, she barely noticed that he had moved lower until he licked a wide stripe up her inner thigh just short of her sex. "Antonin!" she gasped in surprise, her fingers gripping in his hair. She felt his warm breath against her skin before he delivered another lick to the opposite thigh - much slower this time, and she lifted her head in frustration. His mischievous eyes met hers and she let her head fall back with a huff. He attached his lips to a spot about two-thirds up her thigh and sucked sharply, forcing another gasp from her and her leg to twitch. "I thought you were supposed to be kissing me better?" she pointed out.
He swirled his tongue around the mark he'd surely made and kissed it. "I am. See? I just wanted you to have something to remember me by whenever you take off your skirt in the next few days."
"I don't think thoughts of you are going to be very far from my mind," she said honestly. How was she supposed to think about anything else when she'd have the memories and phantom touches of all this? It was lucky that she had such strong mental discipline because she was definitely going to need it.
"Good," he said. "You're definitely not going to be leaving mine. Now let's get another look at this pretty pussy."
She sucked in a huge breath as his fingers parted her lower lips, his magical touch sinking sweet notes of pleasure into her flesh. It was not as powerful as it would be if she was still burning from the curse but it still felt spine-tinglingly good.
Antonin let out a short laugh and she squirmed at the feel of hot air against her sex. "You're already so wet," he murmured and - Merlin, help her - he sounded hungry. "I can see your cunt glistening with it, moya mechta."
Another name for her. Moya mechta - my dream. 'His dream come true' he'd called her earlier though she couldn't see how any dream could be as good as this, even a magical one.
She felt like she was throbbing with need for him but he remained still. She let out a small whine of frustration mixed with nervous anticipation and reached for her own breast, which was still wet from his mouth.
"I'll be gentle," he said, but she could no longer see him. "Until you tell me not to be." His words sounded like a promise, like he knew that she was going to need more demanding touches just like she had with her breasts to bring about greater desire, and she rolled her hips and pinched her nipple in anticipation. She was already fighting hard to hold back any moans but when he pressed his lips to her folds she couldn't keep quiet any longer. As he peppered her sex with little kisses, her breath escaped her in short pants. Then the kisses got slower, his tongue darting out between his lips to get little tastes of her and send sparks shooting within. "You taste so fucking good on my lips, moya mechta. I can't wait to stick my tongue in your tight little opening."
Hermione whimpered and squeezed her eyes shut, almost overwhelmed by the words and feel of him. There was still pain inside her but it was buried so deep under waves of lust and desire that she simply didn't care, and only tugged harder at her own breasts.
When Antonin kissed at the top of her sex, her legs spasmed because the pleasurable sensations seemed far more intense there than anywhere else. He flicked his tongue against her and she let out a cry at the burst of pleasure. "That's your clit." His voice was gruff. "Makes you feel really good, hmm?"
"Yes," she gasped, as he ran his tongue over it again. She would've been quite content for him to stay there for a while and let her float on waves of bliss but he moved his mouth lower to continue kissing every part of her. However her disappointment was short-lived. Antonin licked a long stripe up her sex and her ability to think was temporarily neutralised. "Fuck."
Antonin groaned and licked her quickly twice more, the tip of his tongue pressing into her clit at the end of each stroke. "You sound so fucking hot when you swear," he told her in a husky voice as his fingers rubbed her inner thighs. "Hearing you break because of my tongue on your perfect cunt."
She moaned, one hand still gripping his hair and the other working feverishly at her breasts, while Antonin lapped deeply at her folds. Hermione was finding it difficult to concentrate on anything other than the intense and incredible sensations rushing through her. She was alight with heat - similar but different to her curse - every part of her alive in a way she'd never been before.
Antonin's tongue pressed on her clit, rapidly rocking back and forth, making her hips buck so that he had to hold her down. Just as it was beginning to get too much, he pulled back and Hermione let out a sigh of both relief and disappointment. He kissed a path downwards until he was right over her opening and she quivered in anticipation.
His tongue circled her a couple of times, used the tip to tease the opening and then dipped inside. Hermione's mouth was open but no sound was coming out. Her world had narrowed down solely to her pleasure-infused body and the tongue that was stoking the flames of lust within her.
Antonin never spent more than a few seconds doing the same thing - alternating between licks up her sex, quickly moving his lips or tongue against her clit, or stroking his tongue inside her walls. But it was never in the same order, keeping her on her toes and unable to anticipate what he'd do next. One hand was still holding her hip but the other wandered over the rest of her body: stroking her thighs, tracing over her scar or reaching up to help her play with her breasts. He spoke to her too, just a snatched word or phrase before he pleasured another part of her, telling her how good she tasted, how perfect she was, how hard she was making him. All Hermione could do in response was moan or whimper, paw at her sweat soaked chest and try not to lose her grip on reality.
It was everything, perfect, her body on the verge of ecstasy - but it wasn't enough. She knew she needed more to bring her up to and over the edge. "Antonin," she whimpered. "Please."
"You want to come, milaya?" His low voice fanned hot air over her sensitive folds.
"Yes!"
He kissed her clit and stroked over her body. "Good. I'm going to make you come apart on my tongue but then I want to fuck you again, to stick my cock in your cunt and suck on your tits until you come once more. Do you think you can do that for me?"
Hermione was stunned for a moment. Was it even possible to orgasm again so soon? He would know better than her, and he was so skilled at making her feel good that she barely doubted him. Besides, she wanted him in her again, wanted to be stretched and filled and complete with him. Her body yearned for it. "Y-yes. Please, Antonin."
"Moya mechta," he murmured. "My good girl." A further wave of warmth washed over her at his praise, her toes curling in pleasure. "I'm gonna give you what you need."
His tongue licked her eagerly and one of his fingers slipped into her, giving her some of the extra firmness and friction that her body was craving. There was no lingering pain - only intense pleasure, which grew as he started pumping into her. She cried out when he sucked on her clit and flicked it with his tongue. The need for more was growing, her body chasing a release from the build-up of desire within her. When Antonin added a second finger, the pressure began to coil inside of her as it had before. Just when it felt like her body was about to break apart, he pulled out his fingers and replaced them with his tongue, and his wet fingers rapidly rubbed at her clit. She came with a cry, her world a burst of white and she screwed her eyes up tight as her senses were overwhelmed by the waves of rapture bursting through her. For a time, she was lost to everything but the exquisite release but eventually awareness started to return. Antonin continued to lap at her but much more gently than before, as his hands stroked her legs and scar. Tingling all over as ripples of pleasure still washed through her, she dazedly lifted her head to look at him. His dark, hungry eyes stared straight into hers and she felt her walls clamp down with desire for him. She wasn't sure if it was an aftereffect of her orgasm or a new spark of need - perhaps both.
"Want you so fucking bad," he said, his desperation making his voice low and husky. He gave one final kiss to her thigh and then leant backwards so that he could stroke himself. Hermione's eyes were drawn to his cock. She throbbed again in anticipation of having him filling her once more, but aside of her lust-haze her mind also wanted to study him further. Touching him earlier - feeling something that was simultaneously soft and firm, hearing the way his breathing had hitched when he'd helped her stroke him, had intrigued her. She wanted to know more, how to make him as excited as he made her, how to make him lose control. "Need to be in you." His words broke through her thoughts. "Are you ready for me, zhar-ptitsa?"
"Yes," she replied eagerly.
He moved closer and dragged his tip through her wet, sensitive folds, making them both groan. "You want me to fill your needy cunt with my cock?" His voice was strained but Hermione barely noticed as her body flushed with heat at his words - because she did need him. Even though she'd already come once, she was desperate for him to sink into her again.
She nodded and made a pleading sound. "Want you," she gasped. "Need you." She could see the raw desire in his eyes as he continued to coat himself in her wetness. "Please."
"Fuck, I love hearing you beg for my cock," he hissed, putting his weight onto arms either side of her head so that her vision was full of him. He started rocking himself through her folds and brushing against her clit, making her whimper. "I'm gonna make you come so hard."
His teasing strokes and words were driving her wild, and she lifted her legs around his hips to try and entice him into her properly. "Please," she whined in Russian and his movements faltered, bringing the language out of his mouth too and because she didn't understand some of it she was sure that he was swearing. But it had the desired outcome and he pushed the tip of his cock inside her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his head down so she could kiss him, eagerly moving her lips and tongue against his. It took her a few seconds to comprehend the reason why he tasted different - it was her. His mouth had been on her sex so she was tasting herself on his tongue. Before she had time to form an opinion on that, Antonin pushed into her a little more and began to slide his hips back and forth, stretching her deliciously.
"More," she gasped, pulling her lips from his. "You don't have to be gentle."
He responded at once, increasing both the speed and depth of his strokes. Hermione rolled her hips to meet him, pleasure already coursing through her body.
"You're so fucking tight," he groaned. "Feels so good, taking my cock so well, like your cunt was fucking made for me."
Surely it couldn't feel this good with anyone else? The thought was brief, quickly swept away by desire and need as he licked up her throat.
"Wanna taste those tits," he moaned. "C'mere, milaya."
Before she even really knew what was happening, Antonin had pulled her upwards and manoeuvred their positions so that she was sitting on his lap, her knees either side of his hips and his cock still buried in her. She let her head fall back, savouring the new feeling of completeness the position brought, the way she was stretched and filled in a different way.
He had yet to move, letting her settle on him, one of his hands was braced on her bottom and the other was stroking her back, but she could feel his eyes on her. "You look like a fucking goddess, Hermione," he all but growled and her walls tightened on him. Unable to keep still and deny her body's needs any longer, she flexed and rolled her hips. The hand on her arse encouraged her to lift up a little and drop back. "That's it," he said. "Fuck yourself on my cock."
She held back a moan, relishing the feeling between her legs as her movements became more confident and he started lifting his hips to match her - but a cry burst from her lips when he latched his lips around her breast and began to suck. His hands soothed and guided her to keep going and her body quickly settled into a rhythm, like her natural instincts took over when she could no longer think straight. The combination of his mouth on her breasts and his cock rubbing deep inside her was the most incredible sensation. She already felt close again, and she moved against him with greater urgency to find her release. She pushed his head closer to her chest, encouraging him to suck harder, while she braced herself against his shoulder. His hips were bucking into her as she bounced up and down on her knees, his fingers biting deep into her arsecheek. He groaned around her breast, the vibrations making her mewl and cry out.
"Come for me," he gasped, taking his lips away from her for just a moment. "I want to feel you milk my cock."
Her walls clamped down hard as her orgasm burst over her with such force that she nearly overbalanced. She kept moving, urged on by his hand and his hips as she rode out the waves of pleasure from her spasming sex. But their rhythm was faltering. Antonin groaned around her breast again - but much deeper and longer. She rested her cheek against his head and stroked the back of his neck until he stopped jerking beneath her. He swirled his tongue around her nipple a couple of times, pressed his lips between her breasts and then lifted his head so that he could kiss her properly with surprising tenderness.
With a desperately heavy heart, Hermione took one last look around her childhood home then stepped through the back door into the garden where Professor Snape was waiting for her amidst the shadows of the trees. As she got closer, she could just about make him out through the gloom to see him raise a questioning eyebrow at her. She nodded.
"You saw yourself disappear from the photographs?" he asked in a hushed tone.
"Yes." She'd seen herself become erased from her parents' lives - all evidence of her and the happy memories they'd shared fading away so that they now only existed in her head. To make a mother and father forget their own child was more than a usual memory modification, which typically obscured an incident of a few minutes or hours. Not only did her charm have to span over more than seventeen years of memories and compel them to move to Australia within two weeks, it also needed to provide covering protection to her parents' close friends and relatives - people who had known Hermione for many years too. It would be no good making her mum and dad forget her and then have their dental colleagues ask about what their daughter made of their imminent move around the world, or have Aunt Sue inquire about how Hermione was faring in her annual Christmas letter. The level of memory charm she had used should distort the memories of those they came into physical contact with over the next few days and their minds should slide past any letters or phone calls that mentioned her without actually perceiving her name. She had already magically stored away the contents of her bedroom and any other personal items throughout the house. The altered photos were a confirmation that the spell had worked as she'd intended - the final trace of her gone, perhaps forever.
She wanted to cry but wouldn't do so in front of Snape. He'd seen her vulnerable too often this year and she was tired of feeling weak in front of him even though much of that was down to her own choices. She didn't want him to pity her or see her as weak - she still had no clue about his trustworthiness or motivations. Better to look like she was strong and in control, her mind locked down tight in case of a mental or magical attack. But despite the opportunities she'd given Snape in the last month or so to take advantage or throw her at Dumbledore or even Voldemort's feet should he be inclined, he had done nothing but support her. She couldn't understand it, grateful though she was, and just hoped that he wasn't regaining her trust to make it easier for him to ultimately betray her in the end.
Thankfully, Snape didn't congratulate her - she didn't want praise for using magic on her parents, even if the spell had been difficult and she'd done it to protect them. He said, "It is time for us to depart. Are you in a fit state to disapparate on your own?"
Hermione nodded. "Yes, I'll be fine."
"And you'll be able to hide your emotions about what you've just done from Dolohov?"
"Yes. I wouldn't risk telling him about this."
Snape surveyed her through the shadows but Hermione remained calm. "Very well. I will be waiting for you at the entrance to the school grounds," he said after a slight pause.
She nodded again then disapparated. As normal, the winds coming off the North Sea nearly made her stumble. She stared out into the roiling grey surface and let the grief and sadness that she'd been keeping pent up flow out of her. She still had no idea whether she'd made the right decision and it weighed heavily on her conscience. It was bad enough that she had performed life-altering magic on her parents without their permission, but now she wanted to temporarily forget about what she'd done by losing herself in sex with a convicted murderer.
What sort of a monster was she?
Hermione hunched over and sobbed for a few seconds. She knew she couldn't give herself much more time than that otherwise Antonin would notice that something was wrong. He was always so damn observant.
Someone cleared their throat behind her and Hermione whirled around in surprise. An auror was stationed just outside the entrance a few feet away. Hermione averted her eyes in shame at being caught in such an emotional state when she thought she'd been alone.
"I'm sorry - new precautions," the auror said. "Only auror wands are now permitted inside the prison itself."
"Oh, I see," Hermione mumbled, still mortified as she wiped her wet cheeks. But she risked a glance up as she shuffled closer, recognising the voice - it was the auror who'd come back from having a baby, the one who'd struggled with her patronus. At least the balance in embarrassing events was even between them now. "Here," Hermione said, handing over her wand and then wiping her eyes and cheeks once more.
The hand closed around her upper arm and she felt the familiar squeeze of disapparation before she even had time to cry out.
A/N Surprise!
I know I caught some of you off guard with the arrival of smut last chapter, but it was eventually expected that Hermione and Antonin would get there. This, on the other hand, is hopefully more of a bolt out of the blue. I would LOVE to hear your thoughts on what you think is happening or where we might find ourselves in the next chapter. Obviously, I'd love to hear about the latest E scene now that we've had Hermione's POV as well. Am I still doing okay? By the way, I know the scene shift is jarring but that was intentional to show the contrast in the quite significant life milestones that Hermione is dealing with right now.
You guys were so lovely in your comments to the last chapter. Thank you so much, I really do appreciate your support.
Take care, everyone.