All About Us

New chappie! This is much longer than the fist!


Life had been wonderfully exciting in the last month for Hermione. She had been working with Harry and she had a secret admirer; someone was leaving a box of her favourite sugar quills and a gorgeous flower arrangements. True, the flowers were usually beautifully arranged, but the choice of the flower- roses- was a bit cliché. Still, she had never received gifts from an admirer. She knew that the small packages weren’t dangerous; she had checked each of them before touching them. She had also noticed that with every week, the colour of the roses changed.

The first arrangement was of white roses with slightly pink rimmed petals; the coming weeks the petals grew pinker. She wasn’t a specialist in flower colour meanings, however, she remembered that white means innocence while pink could mean a growing admiration and passion. Hermione hadn’t listened all those years ago when the girls in the dormitories were mooning over explanations of romantic gestures in their brainless chit magazines. What mattered to her now was that someone was making an effort to please her. She wished she knew who exactly the admirer was, but it was difficult to tell, as there were no obvious clues. One might say that it was a person who knew her well enough to present her sugar quills instead of pralines, but that was just a vague hint. The press had run several articles about her after the war, so it was easy to find out everything from more or less publicly available information. Such a snippet as her preference of sugar quills over pralines might’ve been an easy thing for a fan to know. Or maybe not fan. What about a best friend? Harry always smiled knowingly when she picked up the presents at her office door every Monday.

She had asked him whether he knew who was doing this, but he just shrugged and replied that investigating presents from secret admirers isn’t on his duty list! The cheek the man has! She knew that the admirer was by no means poor, as the roses and candy were not the cheap, simple kind, but the high end of that gift range. The roses were fresh for longer than a week, their scent filling her office. The sugar quills were delicious, not the grainy ones she used to buy as a kid. The added mystery of the gifts was only spurring her on to know who was thinking that she is ‘the most beautiful woman in the world.’

The note, which used those exact words, was always the same on the card. At first, she thought she could track the sender via checking the handwriting with a special spell, meant to verify that the reports handed in are written by the named author and not someone else. It was meant to be a system to ensure less slacking and more security against someone forging an Auror’s handwriting. This innovative idea was suggested to the department by Harry, even though he was not the developer of the actual spell. Harry had found boxes with books and notes in the late Professor Snape’s chambers and decided that the professor’s work shouldn’t go to waste. But Snape was not the problem bugging Hermione’s mind. She became very frustrated when, after several testing attempts of the handwriting, the result was the same-no matches.

The handwriting mystery was resolved when she went to Scrivenshafts to get a few new quills. On display there was a new luxury dicto-quill, which had the special calligraphy function. School kids around were all looking at the quill enviously, as the writing accessory was a ‘bargain’ at just 100 Galleons. However, the quill’s writing was exactly the same as on her cards. Yes, it was an answer, but it was still a dead end. The wizard, well, hopefully it was a wizard and not a witch, who was sending the gifts was rich enough to afford such a quill for disguising himself. She quit the search after that, knowing that the admirer must be someone who had authorised access to the department.

Still the vague hope remained that it was Harry who was the admirer. He had both the financial means and the proximity to her to do that; and it would be so romantic of him. The secret love when the unlucky hero realises his heart doesn’t belong to his wife, but to the beautiful woman on the side. She had read so many Muggle romance novels about that. Passion, adultery and happy endings were so exciting and still romantic, not that that would ever happen in the wizarding world. But she didn't care, it was enough for her heart to imagine the gorgeous, green eyed object of her desire doing something like this for her.

Somehow, her life had started to rotate around two wonderful men - her secretly beloved Harry and the courteous Apollo. Still, Harry was the one who made her heart beat faster every time they were somewhere alone. Her mind conjured images of him suddenly leaning in and crushing his lips against hers in a passionate kiss. But what could she do? Harry was so mesmerizingly sexy. His emerald eyes and lost puppy expression, along with his cute tousled raven hair easily justified why she desired him. Of course, she loved his personality, too, but the physical attraction was almost unbearable for her. She wished that she would be enveloped in his strong arms or that she could run her hands through his hair and make it even messier. However, her greatest wish was to make love to him, if even for once in her life. Just one night, but she knew she’d never get it.

A perfect distraction was found in Apollo Williams. He had become her friend very fast, even though their backgrounds were so different. Who would’ve thought that a pureblood and Durmstrang alumni could be such a fun and intelligent person? And he was very intelligent; his theories in Arithmancy amazed her, much like his impeccable manners. When he was talking to her, he didn’t get distracted by all the girls swooning over him.

First, Hermione had thought he was talking to her because of her fame, but as time passed, she realised that he was more interested in her personality, and that flattered her immensely. Apollo was always very respectful towards her and he never tried to cop a feel, but she knew that if she let him know she wanted them to be more than friends, he could be a good lover. He had all the physical features Hermione liked – strong arms, washboard abs, and a nice arse. Maybe Harry’s arse was better, but as she’d never get her hands on it... She had better stop thinking about Harry that way, no matter how hard that was to achieve. If only Apollo would make a move. That would give her a release for all that bottled up need she had stored inside her.

Maybe she could shag Apollo and think of Harry? That would be unfair towards Apollo, but didn’t many studies show that Muggle women often fantasized about pretty actors while being with their boyfriends? Apollo surely would give any pretty-boy actor a run for their money.

Hermione chided herself for having a dirty mind in the middle of the working day. Today would be more exciting than a normal day because she was going to coach hand-to-hand combat and martial arts for the Aurors who go on special missions. Harry had already guaranteed that he’d be there. That wouldn’t help her to lose any of her desire for him, even seeing him move like a majestic lion would warm her heart.

She had spent all night yesterday trying to figure out what to wear to the training session, but she had finally settled on the Salem training uniform. If there was one thing to be said about Salem, it was the interesting dress style there. The 'Defence Mistress' uniform consisted of a crop top, hot pants with the name ‘Salem’ stitched over the bum, and a zip hoodie.

Looking at herself in the mirror, Hermione smiled. Her figure was now curvy, but athletic, with nice lean muscles defining her curves. She still had a rather large bust and a round bum, but in all she was in perfect shape for her body type, that was at least what the American healers had told her.This shape was the result of the mastery course. Before enrolling, she had thought the course concentrated on theory, but when she got there, she was overwhelmed by the sheer amount of practise, including running, sit ups and the like. The workouts helped her to forget Harry for that time. And it gave Hermione’s figure a good shape, of course she still envied Ginny’s stick- insect, extremely thin frame , but she was sure that Ginny would faint after even running a mile.

She was running a bit late when she walked into the training room. A choir of catcalls and whistles greeted her.

‘What’s going on, boys?’ she asked surprised. Everyone should be used to her by now, right?

‘Wow, Hermione, you look…’ Harry stammered, lost for words.

‘How do I look?’ she asked, smiling at the confused Head Auror. If only he knew how that little blush made him look even more shaggable. ‘I can change into something else, you know?’

What if Harry didn’t approve of her outfit and figure? She had seen Ginny’s pictures in The Prophet and in Witch Weekly and knew she didn't compare to that glamorous image. It wasn't that she had been looking for them, one rather needed to be blind not to notice the pictures, which were everywhere. Mrs. Potter looked, for the lack of better words, like an escapee of Voldemort’s dungeons. Extremely thin and pale, she did resemble those Muggle models, too. Maybe that was the type of women Harry preferred? Be that as it may, she wasn’t going to starve herself to death for him. She wanted him to like her as she was, and if she wasn’t to his liking, it would be easier for her to get over him and find someone else.

Harry was truly speechless. During the years as an Auror he had developed a lot of confidence, but he felt like a blubbering fool standing in front of this gorgeous woman, who just happened to be his best friend. The short work out outfit showed of her curves so generously that it was difficult for him to keep himself from drooling. He had always admired women who had curves. The figure Ginny had acquired during the last years seemed rather appalling to him, as he wasn’t allowed to touch her since she always reminded him that he’d crush her. But his mind’s eye was already imagining where he could touch Hermione. He chastised himself and took a deep breath. He was a married man; he was not supposed to think of groping the perfect figure of his best friend.

‘What I wanted to say is, you look fit.. I didn’t know Salem had such uniforms.’ He knew that wasn’t the best thing he could say; maybe talking to Neville yesterday had infected him with clumsiness?

‘Thank you, Harry. You don’t look bad yourself, too.’ She had smiled so brightly at him that he wanted to believe her, but he didn’t look good. He just looked like himself. The old, washed out Gryffindor t-shirt had been his favourite for ages. It was shapeless and fit him like some of Dudley’s old rags he used to have, but it covered the waistline of his sweatpants which were riding dangerously low on his hips and were rather clingy on his backside. Why had he chosen to take that pair of pants from the uniform supply cupboard?

Normally, he wouldn’t worry if it was just him with a few unit Aurors in training, but now with Hermione here, he felt like a weak comparison to the young, Greek god-like men. Not that Harry himself was unfit; he just felt that he didn’t look as good as the others.

‘I guess it’s time to start the training. Enough standing around,’ Hermione’s voice rang through the room. ‘We’ll start with a warm up and then go into hand and wand combat.’

Harry felt like he had been dismissed, but when he turned around he saw that his Aurors were leering at the girl. That was obviously why she had decided to start the training. The leering didn’t stop; it only got worse when she started the stretching exercises, but Harry admitted to himself that he liked getting an eyeful of her. Harry watched how the flimsy material of her shorts stretched over her firm arse and how the muscles in her back flexed when she leaned down. He liked it so much that he even needed to whisper a deflating charm under his breath as he couldn’t cover the huge tent that had grown in his pants. It had been a good while since he had gotten so aroused; he had almost believed he had turned impotent a while back.

‘So, boss, do you think she has a current squeeze?’ Auror Martinez, who was in line just next to Harry, asked with a lustful look

‘You shouldn’t be disrespectful to your superiors,’ Harry snapped at the dark haired man.

‘She’s a superior chick…which man could resist?’ Harry couldn’t calm himself. In a daze of quick anger he muttered a stinging hex and smiled contently when it hit the other man.

With a loud yelp, Martinez fell face first on the mat, immediately gaining Hermione’s attention.

‘Are you alright?’ she asked as she hurried to the injured man’s side as fast as she could.

‘I think I hurt my ankle,’ the Auror whined, trying to make sure he had his best puppy dog look on his face.

‘Harry, did you see what happened to him?’ she asked, her voice full of concern.

‘I wouldn’t know, I guess he just slipped,’ Harry answered nonchalantly. He was quite glad the git had fallen. Served him well for looking lustfully at a witch who wasn’t his. Technically, Hermione wasn’t Harry’s either, but he thought that greedy little Aurors didn’t deserve her. She needed a real man who would cherish her and love her more than his own life. A slight pain hit his heart when he realised that he wasn’t going to be the one for her either.

‘Do you need a nurse?’ Hermione had leaned down to examine the Auror.

‘I think I need some extra care,’ Martinez said, his eyes clearly glued to her cleavage.

‘He should go and see Drucilla, our department’s nurse, she will surely know what’s wrong with him,’ Harry said in his most serious tone. ‘We can’t afford to have unfit Aurors in our special mission team.’

Harry knew that it was rather harsh towards the Auror, but he had to maintain discipline in the squad. That was, at least, what he told himself. Not that he was jealous that Hermione might get a squeeze from one of the men, he was just looking out for her.

Martinez got up slowly, never losing eye contact with Hermione. When he turned, he made sure he appeared to be limping, or else he would fall in disgrace of his fellows that he was such a girl to not handle a training session. But he knew the truth. The git of a boss Potter had set his eyes on the chick, and it didn’t help that the other rich sod, Williams, was always in her proximity. It would’ve been so nice to have a private nursing session with her.

Harry watched the sneaky culprit leave and sighed in relief. At least now he'd be able to adore her beauty undisturbed by someone so openly leering. He tried to clear his mind of sexual thoughts and concentrate on the work out. In the hand and wand combat sections Harry purposely chose other people to partner with, as he didn’t trust himself to be able to control the urge to touch her more than needed.

To his relief, no one was attempting to paw her. Maybe it was because they were scared of her advanced fight techniques, or maybe they hadn’t realised how sexy she was.

Taking a sip from her water bottle, Hermione looked around the room. A bunch of Aurors were gathered around him. She really couldn’t let her eyes off of him, no matter how hard she tried. He did look so sexy that she wished she could push him up against the wall, rip off his clothes, and devour him. But she wasn’t allowed to do so, no matter how many nights she had spent this last month dreaming about Harry in her bed. Even Apollo’s constant company during lunchtimes didn’t help to lessen her love for Harry.

Speaking of Apollo, he was right now strutting towards her, looking like the second most handsome guy in the room. His shirtless torso was an example of a divine male body, with well defined muscles rippling under smooth, tanned skin and a smile gracing his beautiful face. He was single, and thus available to see to her special needs, a little voice in her mind pointed out in an almost sing-song voice.

‘I was wondering if I could ask you something, Hermione,’ the usually confident Auror asked in a slightly shaky tone.

‘Ask away. I’m sure I can help you somehow,’ she answered, offering the man a brilliant smile.

‘Would you like to go out with me this Saturday?’ He blurted out his question so quickly that she didn’t understand what he was asking.

‘Excuse me?’

‘Would you like to go on a date with me?’ he asked, gathering his confidence. This was a witch that he needed to secure for himself. She was exceptionally smart, powerful, and beautiful and, as an added bonus, a highly respected war hero. Not to mention, she was a Muggleborn, so the offspring would be hopefully magical. Her answer would show whether he had won her trust with his charm or not.

‘I’d love that! Where are we going?’ she asked cheerfully. Finally, she was going on a date. Dating someone else was supposedly the best medicine for wanting one you couldn't have.

‘I haven’t made any reservations right now, but would it be fine if I owl you tomorrow night about it?’

‘Yes, that would be great.’ She noticed that he had leaned in; she could smell his fresh and minty cologne, his face was just a few inches away and she could see a glint of hope for a kiss. And she was tempted to kiss him; Hermione was leaning in to give him a peck on his lips as a cough from nearby interrupted her moment.

For a moment Harry felt the hot burning of jealousy raging through him. The audacity of Auror Williams! How did the boy, yes boy as Williams was four years younger than Harry, dare to make a move on Hermione and try to kiss her. Though Harry silently agreed that her lips looked very kissable, especially with the drops of water shimmering on them, so innocent, yet inviting. Harry wished that he wasn’t a married twenty-four year old man, but a boy who could do as he pleased. And then he’d just kiss her. But he couldn’t linger on what would’ve been if he had realised that she was more than just a sidekick. He had to deal with reality as it was, and that meant being stuck in a loveless marriage.

‘Now we’ll start the final part of today’s session-Vampire slaying.’ Hermione’s announcement brought Harry out of his sad pondering and back to concentrating on the training. Why on earth did he get all sulky thinking about his life? He had to start feeling happy, no matter what. Period.

‘You might think that vampire infestations are rare, but don’t be fooled. Just last year, we, the Salem Defence Master Squad, were called on a mission in Minnesota. A territory of woods was plagued by a primary vampire turning unsuspecting campers into Undead Minions. It took us quite a while to clear the area. I killed about 50 Minions in the two weeks…’

Harry listened in awe. She was such a strong and brave woman. Not every seasoned Auror could take on a bunch of Vampires fearlessly.

‘Good co-ordination of your moves and a precise cut with your silver dagger is the key.’ She extracted a small box from her pocket, enlarged it and took out an intricate silver dagger.

‘You all have had basic fighting skills training and I know your mission gear includes a similar dagger. As much as I love theory, I wanna see you in practise. Who wants to go first?’

Harry really wanted to go first. He was quite sure he had okay vampire slaying skills, but at this moment, it didn’t matter, he just wanted to feel her body under his.
He was just about to voice his wish when Williams stepped forward with confidence.
Oh well, he’d let Williams humiliate himself. He was sure the young man stood no chance against Hermione’s skill.

The room went quiet, everyone stilled on anticipation.

‘Let’s get started then. Mr. Williams, you will try to attack me, just like a minion vampire would. And oh, you needn’t to worry about hurting me.’

She stood very confidently, her back turned to the bigger man who was going to attack her. A collective gasp was heard when Williams grasped her shoulders. However, his sense a sure win of this match was gone as she turned around and, in a matter of seconds, used a simple jujitsu move had him pinned to the mat, both wrists restrained by one of her small hands while she straddled him so he couldn’t move at all.

‘First thing you do when you have the vampire pinned is to bind his arms to the ground with magic. It will give you space to move. Vampires are immune against being petrified and against the killing curse, but they can’t escape ropes. If you’re in a hurry, I’d recommend just to cut its throat, if you’re sure it’s a vamp.’

Her free hand slithered over Apollo’s chest, making Harry extremely jealous. It seemed like they were having dry sex. True, Harry was no big sex expert; he had never had a woman straddling him this way. To him, it was incredibly erotic to imagine a sexy warrior goddess devour him however she’d wish. When he watched her hand move over her victim’s torso, he felt a heat building in him. He realised that he wanted to be at her mercy, if only just once. It would be so much better than his magazines and his hand. He tried to listen intently to what she was saying, but all he could do was to try to get control of his sex hungry mind.

He sighed in relief when she released the younger man and told the group to practice the move, as she wanted to see their technique.

He took his opportunity when he noticed that she was standing idly by, watching the Aurors follow through the steps.

Stealthily, Harry snuck up to her and, using her sudden confusion, overthrew her using the same move she had demonstrated.

‘Constant vigilance, did you forget that?’ he smirked when he saw her shocked expression.

She didn’t answer him, she was just breathing heavily. She felt so good beneath him, so inviting to touch and she apparently had no intent to wiggle free from him or complain that she was being crushed by his weight.

‘Mmm…let me check if you’re not a vamp.’ He whispered to her, letting his hand gently trail down from her shoulders to the swell of her breast, resting just above her heart. Harry thought he felt an increase in her heart rate, but thought nothing else of it, leaning closer to her face and letting her hot breath caress his cheek.

Slowly, he released her, even though he wished he could do something else to her. For example, take off that skimpy top and feel the perfect roundness of her breasts. Shrugging off those dirty thoughts, he swiftly stood up and offered her his hand to help her.

‘Why did you do this?’ her voice was a little husky, but to Harry it was the sexiest tone ever. He smiled innocently at her, figuring what reply would be good. The explanation that he just wanted to cop a feel would be the honest one, but the worst, too.

‘To test you…but I still wonder why you let me win.’

‘I…’ her face was flushed, she seemed to be speechless.

‘Never mind. Ginny’s asking whether you’d like to come to dinner at our place tonight?’ He knew the change of subject was sudden, but what else could he say? That he felt powerful on top of her? That he wanted to mate with her like a wild animal? He had to be proper at all cost.

‘That would be nice. I haven’t talked to Ginny in ages. What time?’

‘Around 8 pm, Grimmauld Place…so, see you there?’ After receiving an affirmative nod from Hermione, he hastily moved to the Head bathroom, as the deflating charm had started to itch a bit. A wizard could only stop his natural urges for so long and he needed a nice cold shower. If a cold one wouldn’t help, he could enjoy a long, hot one, filled with fantasies. . .

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