In the Mood

I wanted to thank all the people who have reviewed. Thanks for giving the pairing a chance. I knew it was going to be tricky getting people interested in this particular pairing, but for some reason I have yet to understand the two worked for me. Go figure. As usual, thanks and please read and review!

Chapter Eight


Hermione woke with a start. Something was wrong. She could feel it shimmering around her like a bad aura. She squeezed Alastor’s shoulder, bringing him awake without a word. He motioned to her to remain quiet. Getting up, he pulled out his wand and went out to see what was wrong.


He was about to give up looking when Hermione tackled him to the ground as a hex went flying right to the spot he would have been at. Rolling over Hermione shot out a curse that sent the wizard dressed in all black flying straight out the window. She heard a blast behind her, turning to see Alastor getting to his feet. She could have sworn that if it could, his wand wouldn’t have been smoking at that moment.


“You have my back?” he asked.


She smiled. “Let’s clear out the rest of the house, shall we?”


Alastor smiled at that. The both of them went through the rest of the house. Once the interior was totally secured, they made certain the exterior property was also without prowlers as well. There was no one around, but he decided to erect his emergency wards. He watched as Hermione went over to the sofa, clearly in thought.


“They were wearing masks,” she whispered. “Shit! It’s started!”


“What’s started?” he asked her, watching as she got up and paced.


“I shouldn’t tell you anything, but I find that I can’t remain silent.” She stopped walking. “In the years to come there will be three wars. The first we are but a year or two away from…”


“Grindelwald,” he muttered.


She nodded. “Yes, Grindelwald.” Hermione took a deep breath and said, “What are your views on purebloods and muggleborns?”


“I could care less,” he muttered. “But there are those…”


“Oh yes, there are definitely those out in the world that would kill because of their hate of anything muggle,” she told him. “I should know. They never saw my achievements. They only saw my two muggle parents and I was slapped with a label of mudblood.”


Fury leapt into Alastor’s eyes, but he said nothing.


“The wars are coming. Don’t you doubt it,” she told him. Hermione sat down next to him and said, “What I’m about to tell you, you cannot tell anyone else. And try to not change anything that is supposed to happen.”


“How am I supposed to know what is to be?” he demanded.


“I don’t know,” she told him. “But I can tell you what I know. That’s all we can do for now.”


What she knew, Alastor thought later on, could fill a library. When she finished speaking, he watched as she laid her head back and stared at the ceiling. He took up her hand, kissing it.


“I’m terrified I did the wrong thing,” she breathed. “What if…”


He pulled her to himself, kissing her mouth hungrily. Without another word, he scooped her up from the sofa and carried her over to his bedroom, slamming the door shut with his foot.


***


Hermione stirred at the feeling of Alastor nuzzling her neck. Still more asleep than awake, she reached out and stroked his face. He caught her hand, kissing the palm. Opening her eyes, she turned to face him. His arms went around her waist, pulling her on top of him.


“Hmm, luv, I do believe you will be the death of me,” he told her, nibbling on her laughing mouth.


“But what a sweet death it would…” His kiss silenced her words, but had her mewing to him.


He pulled back slightly, growling, “You were saying?”


“I don’t know,” she whispered against his lips. “What was I saying?”


“You were praising my ability as a lover and telling me that you will love me to your dying day,” he murmured.


She pulled back slightly. “I said that out loud?” This only had him letting out a crack of laughter. Smiling tenderly, she nuzzled his neck. “I need a bath and a meal.” He felt as Hermione pulled away from him. “I’ll get the bath ready.” She looked over to him. “I’ve never experimented sexually in a bathtub before.”


“You were a virgin when you came to me, woman.”


“Then you know for a fact that I have never experimented sexually in a bathtub before!” she exclaimed, but then asked, “Have you experimented…”


“No, cannot say as I have,” he told her getting up from the bed. “Why?”


“I was hoping you would know where to start. Oh well, I’m all for making it up as we go along. What do you think?”


“That works,” he said as he threw her over his shoulder and took her laughing into the bathroom.


***


The two kept investigating the murder even as Hermione was certain that they were never going to be allowed to arrest the people responsible. It was in the middle of reading that Alastor asked her something she wasn’t prepared for.


“How did I die?”


She looked up at him startled. “How…”


“You’ve been avoiding telling me anything to do with me past that night where you were made to look like that Harry fellow.”


She swallowed thickly, trying to think over what she could tell him. Taking a fortifying breath, she said, “You were killed by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. You were hit with a spell, I don’t know which, and you fell.” Tears were flooding her eyes. “We couldn’t find your body. The only thing we did find was your magical eye.”


Frowning he went over to her, pulling her into his arms. “What magical eye?”


She looked up into his two beautiful blue eyes and whispered, “Being an auror, it took much from you.” With a shaking hand she reached up and stroked his face. “You’ve lost one of your eyes…” Her fingers touched the cheek under the eye in question. “…Part of your nose as well. You lost part of a leg—your foot and calf. I never knew the extent of it though. It wasn’t something I was privy to and it would have been rather odd for you to be showing something of that nature to me.”


He nodded absently. She slipped her fingers through his. He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. When he heard her sniffling, he pulled out his handkerchief and handed it to her. She took it with a quiet thank you. Wiping away the tears from her face carefully, Hermione tried not think about the future. She took his hand into her own, squeezing it.


“Enough of these tears,” she said in a stern voice, but smiled when he looked over to her. “You have work to do. I’m going to be doing some research while you do that.” She stood up, kissing his cheek. “And as much as I would love to do nothing more than to go from room to room baptizing each as it were, work must be done.”


***


Hermione stood in the darkened doorway of the room watching as Alastor kept drinking in the room. He had been officially told that he had to stop investigating Abraxas Malfoy or he would lose his post. The dressing down had been harsh and more than a few words were tossed back and forth between the Alastor and the head of the aurors. They hadn’t bothered with a silencing charm and she had heard most of it.


Hermione followed him out of the office, taking care of him the entire way, as he seemed to be in his own world of fury and silence. When they had reached the house, he had gone straight over to his study and began the slow journey towards intoxication.


“Still there?” he called out. When she didn’t answer, he turned to look at her there. “Yes, still there, watching me like a little hen. Miss Hermione Granger…you are the love of my life…and the bane of my existence.” He stood up and walked over to her. “Why should I keep you here? Hmm, I wonder, because all you are doing is trying to leave me…leave me alone and wanting to turn old and bitter with bits of me missing.” His hand absently went to his eye, rubbing it. “I should have you leave now.” He tried to push her away, but she didn’t budge. “Leave!”


She stood there for a moment before whispering, “If this is how you handle adversity, then you aren’t the man I thought you were.”


***


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