It's in the Hunt

My big thanks go out to Sampdoria and Narcissas Sister for taking time out of their days to review my story. With any luck you'll keep on liking it.

PLEASE READ & REVIEW!!!!

***

Chapter Three


Strolling on her way over to the bedroom, the sound of a conversation caught her attention and she found herself walking over to the doorway of the sitting room that she had port keyed into when she had arrived back at the school. Standing at the fireplace was the man who had been refusing to tell her his name and Draco was behind him, looking angrily at the man facing away from him.


“What were you thinking?” Draco demanded. “You spoke to her? What if…”


“You worry too much, Draco,” the man drawled, sounding oddly familiar yet she didn’t know why. “How is everything up top?”


Draco frowned. “As predicted, the Death Eaters have taken over the school. The Carrows are here, we receive frequent visits from Umbridge as well, and then there is Greyback…”


The man whipped around and demanded, “He hasn’t been allowed into the school, has he?”


“No, but he’s out there. I’ve seen him on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forrest,” he said, sounding upset. “I’ve told the prefects in one of our private meetings to pass on to the others a heads up. The last thing we need is a werewolf epidemic thanks to that bastard.”


“Good work,” he muttered. “Any luck finding the diadem?”


“None,” Draco replied.


“And the cup?”


“No, but I have a feeling that one isn’t here…”


“Chances are that it won’t be,” Hermione said as she entered the room. “It’s at Gringotts.”


“And you would know this how?” the man at the fireplace asked her.


“Can you keep a secret?” she asked him.


“Yes.”


“Funny, so can I,” she replied, sitting down on a lounge.


The man smiled as he went over to her, leaning down so that his hands were on either side of her head. Next his knees came down on either side of her lap effectively caging her to the sofa. Hermione looked up into his dark eyes as he watched her intensely.


“Now, my girl, you are going to tell me how is it that you came to this conclusion that the cup is in the Gringotts Bank.” He lowered his head until his nose was touching hers.


“I’ll tell you,” she murmured. “The moment you tell me your name.”


He chuckled. “Sneaky witch. Has anyone ever told you that you more than likely should have been in Slytherin?”


“Once or twice,” she whispered, noticing his musk for the first time. “Mm, you smell nice.”


“Thank you,” he whispered.


“What is that? Sandalwood?”


“Yes, along with some other scents as well. I make it myself,” he replied, moving his face to the crook of her neck and inhaling deeply. “You smell pleasant as well…”


“Oh please!” came from a disgusted sounding Draco.


The man’s head snapped up and he snarled, “Go! You have work to see to!”


“But…”


“Now!” he yelled, sending the young wizard running off.


As soon as Draco was gone, the man lowered his head and nuzzled her neck. “My apologies, my sweet. Some young men have no tact whatsoever.”


Hermione’s breath caught in her throat, feeling his mouth against her pulse even as his nose was delving into her wild mane of hair. It was with a hesitant hand that she caressed his neck and tangled her fingers into his hair. He went still, panting against her sensitive nape even as she felt the mood in the room become more intense.


“Where did you…”


“What do I call you?” she cut him off. “I need a real name to say when I speak to you. No games. I mean it.”


He didn’t say anything for a time, but then muttered, “Most that know me, as I am here, call me Rommie.”


“Rommie? Is that short for something?”


“Now that wasn’t part of the deal,” he teased, making her smile.


“Who is the dark lord’s most loyal Death Eater?” she asked him, even as her fingers traced the muscles of his neck going into his shoulder.


He thought it over. “That would be Bellatrix LeStrange.”


“Exactly,” she murmured. “Most of the LeStrange estate was taken, as they were dark artifacts, when they were arrested way back when. So the question to you is why is it that they still have an extremely high security vault to this very day? Mind you this is in addition to the family vault which doesn’t have the same protective measures put into place.”


“They are hiding something,” he muttered.


“Yes, and given the fact that the dark lord gave Tom Riddle’s diary to Lucius Malfoy, one of his most loyal followers, for safe keeping, it stands to reason he would try to do the same with Helga Hufflepuff’s cup.”


“How did you find out about all this information?” he asked her, quietly.


“It pays to be literate,” she murmured moving so that her lips were a hair’s breath away from his neck. “And knowing where to get the reading material helps as well.” She kissed the underside of his jaw, making him hiss out his breath. “Let me up, Rommie. It’s my bedtime.”


He did so slowly, sitting down onto the lounge and watched as she was walking away. But as she got to the doorway told her, “You know one of these days I’m not going to let you get away from me.”


She stopped, looking over her shoulder and replied, “I look forward to that.”


***


Hermione lay in bed, wondering what in the name of Merlin she was thinking to say what she did to that man! Rommie must be thinking she was some sort of tart the way she was coming on to him! True, she never considered herself to be a prude, but neither was she a tramp either. She was, in her opinion, a fairly normal, hormonally charged, eighteen year old virgin. She had kissed. It was Ron and both of them had been drunk at the time, but it had been a decent kiss. But she missed the fireworks and even told him so. He had accused her of putting too much pressure on him. It was then that she told him that they would be better off as friends. Thankfully he had agreed wholeheartedly.


She shivered when she thought about Rommie and the feel of him being just close to her. They hadn’t kissed and yet what they did do was one of the most intimate acts she had ever experienced. Hermione licked her lips, wishing his flavor were there to taste. Letting out a shaking sigh, she wondered absently if she was ever getting to sleep that night.


***


Thanks for reading! Please Review! Please? Really, must I resort to begging? PLEASE REVIEW!!! I'll give you a cookie. LOL! Thanks.