A/N. It's been so long many may need reminding where we are.
Hermione and Dean are following up on a lead about Gaunt and his girlfriend Corpuscula. I didn't plan the chapter to end this way but that's not really news.
It's only a story…
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Chapter 21 - Apologies, Apologies
Dean was still miffed at her for talking him into getting in touch with Bloody Mary, which she thought was kind of juvenile. It turned out that the vampire informer did know Corpuscula and had pertinent valuable information. For the past few hours they had been remotely watching the front and back entrances of the 'Bat Cave', a Muggle night spot that today was closed to the public for a private function.
The party was for vampires and close supporters only. The host was some Wizengamot lobbyist, an influential wizard who made sure no anti-Vampire laws ever passed. All bloody Mary would say was that Corpuscula was likely to attend and that she wasn't going because what would go on, while perfectly legal, was against her sensibilities.
About a hundred beings had come in and just minutes ago they had visual confirmation of the Turn blood entering the club via the back door. Corpuscula came alone but that didn't mean anything. It was late and they were wondering if Gaunt was inside already. Dean was trying to convince her not to proceed with her plan to go in and have a look.
"You're making me nervous," Hermione said to Dean as she made final adjustments to her disguise and make up.
"You should be nervous," Dean pressed on, "The Vampire community is going to be up in arms if they found out we went in there without a warrant. We should call Trussel."
"If you let Trussel know John will find out, and he'll pull us out just like he pulled us off the Wasabi and Knockturn Alley," she replied, frustrated and angry, "This case is ours, and I'm not giving it up for anyone, not even for Harry."
"Look, I know you want to prove a point but the shit will hit the fan," Dean said worried for her, "Not telling them about this lead, following Corpuscula in there without legal in the loop and without back-up...it'll be hard to explain blatant insubordination."
"In the first place, they never asked us if we had any leads," Hermione shrugged without a care. It was not the first time somebody underestimated her which was their mistake, "And it isn't insubordination if we're going in there to investigate a possible illegal vamp camp. If we happen to see Corpuscula we can't just ignore her, can we?"
"You do realize that you are insane."
"I'm just doing my job."
"And bull headed."
"Persistent," she corrected, "We're doing this. We'll be fine if we just stick with the story."
This was one of the few times they argued about work. The truth was she was really pissed about not being trusted with the case and what better way to prove them wrong than find Gaunt themselves. Being told that Gaunt was off limits only made her want to know more. Dean finally gave up talking her out of it.
"Just be very careful."
"I always am. So, what do you have?"
Dean was a gadget man and in moments like these when they were 'on their own' they relied heavily on that fact. While she kept up to date with technological advances herself it was more Dean's interest and he had sources in the Department of Mysteries no one else in the Auror department had. Despite his reservation he was actually prepared and ready, probably because he knew she would go through with it no matter what.
"Wear these," he instructed as he transformed two small pebble-like substances, handing her the resultant large gaudy ornaments.
It took some time to recognize what they were.
"These are earrings?"
"They're an exact copy of Luna's favourite. Why?"
That would explain it. No wonder they looked strangely familiar.
"Nothing."
She begrudgingly clipped them on, thinking how the peacock designs and their many colors clashed with the black outfit she was wearing. Making a mental note to transfigure them later, she watched her partner turn on two monitors and felt the earrings give off a warm vibration. Dean's form lit up as mix of red, green and blue on the screens and the computer immediately identified the image as D. Thomas.
"What is it?"
Dean informed her, "It's called the Magical Imprint Recognizer or the MIR. As you know each being has a unique magical signature. It scans magical energy and matches the imprint against a database."
"Like a fingerprint. And we have one of Gaunt's on file?"
"I wish but it's just out of the box," Dean replied, "I've loaded the database with known ones of Ministry personnel and a few identified dark wizards and witches. But what I really want to do is get Gaunt on the screen so we can add him to the list. I suggest planting one near a strategic location and moving around with the other one."
"How close does it have to get?" she asked.
"I've set it to ten feet. Beyond that my source says it collects and gives conflicting information," Dean answered.
She put the image projector, voice receiver and voice transmitter pods in position, Muggle surveillance rip offs with a slight magical twist in that they were invisible once activated and virtually undetectable. They promptly did a test and found everything in order. As she was about to leave her phone rang. Dean picked it up from where she had left her other personal effects.
"It's Harry," Dean handed her the phone.
She was as puzzled as Dean was. It was one in the morning and Harry never called her this late. What did he want? Did something bad happen?
"Harry?"
"Oh...hi," Harry stammered as if he was caught off-guard that she answered.
"Is something wrong?"
"No, no, there's nothing wrong," he hurriedly replied then waffled about getting in touch, "I'm sorry, it's late and I shouldn't have called."
"Okay…"
Weird…
"Okay," he echoed what she said, "I guess I'll see you in the morning."
"Okay…in the morning then."
She was about hang up when she heard him exclaim, "Hermione, wait!"
"What? Harry, you're acting really strange," she got to the point; she really didn't have time for this.
"I know, I'm sorry," he apologized again, "I don't mean to frighten you. Can I see you tonight, just for a few minutes?"
Her eyes widened more from panic about what to tell him than concern about why he needed to.
"You mean right now?"
"Yes...unless...sorry...I didn't even ask but if you're with someone... "
"No, I'm just hanging out with Dean," she instantly denied.
Her gesticulating partner distracted her, mouthing 'hanging out' as if that was not a good thing to say.
As she tried to wordlessly ask him why he thought it was a bad idea, Harry sought permission, "So, I can join you then."
"Well, no, not right now," Dean rolled his eyes up, predicting what Harry's response would be. The words stumbled out of her mouth and she could only hope Harry wouldn't insist, "Maybe later…actually better if we meet up in the morning. We're on our way home and I'm feeling a bit knackered."
"Okay."
That was easy.
"Bye."
"Bye."
She disconnected, frowning from the strange conversation.
"Hanging out?" Dean repeated.
"What was I supposed to say?" she defended herself.
"The truth would have been good."
She let out a regretful sigh, "He's management now. I don't want to put him on the spot."
Hermione was still smarting from what Harry told her that afternoon. Kingsley was going with John's recommendation about keeping her and Dean off the case. Since when did Kingsley say 'no' to Harry? Harry was as upset as she was and she didn't push him knowing he had tried his best to bat for her.
"I don't think he bought it," Dean shook his head, "You should have just said you had company."
Maybe next time. Set with a plan to get in undetected, she Disapparated close to the Bat Cave, altered the Luna inspired jewelry and approached the entrance with confident steps, a somewhat difficult endeavor as she was unaccustomed to strutting about in four inch heels. The plan was she would find Corpuscula and tag her until she found Gaunt. Then once Gaunt was clearly in the picture, they would let Harry know.
She got to the entrance and greeted the tall Muggle looking man who stood before her, appraising her from head to toe as muffled music spilled out from beyond the double doors behind him.
"This is a private function," he said immediately, his voice low, deep, unwelcoming.
Dean had visual and spoke into her pod, "Strix, the host's assistant. Don't let the looks fool you. He's a Turn Blood."
Hermione responded, "Ross sent me to help liven up the party."
Ross was a pimp who had a stable of fresh, clean workers, beings of everyone's fancy. She catered only to the rich and famous and charged top galleon for the exclusivity. Bloody Mary suggested posing as one of her girls for Ross, after being Obliviated by a displeased customer recently, was having a bit of difficulty keeping track of who her employees were nowadays.
"I told Ross I needed only five," the vampire said coldly, "She must have forgotten."
"Cranky," Dean ran a commentary, "Looks like we have to go to Plan B."
Hermione preferred the less obtrusive Plan A and tried again, "No, she didn't forget. I'm for free, a token of her appreciation for your business."
Strix seemed unaffected.
"The poor slob just works for the man. He doesn't care. Five galleons say you won't change his mind."
Challenged by Dean's lack of faith, Hermione leaned in closer and whispered into the vamp's ear, "Ross told me to personally make sure you're pleased with the service."
She released a minute dose of Veela blood essence for good measure and the vamp did not have a chance.
"That is so not fair," Dean groaned as the schmuck found someone else to watch the door and let her in.
Nonchalantly charming an earring to stick on the intricate molding at the entrance, she followed glassy eyed Strix past the crowded intermittently lit music filled hall into a long winding corridor. It seemed to go on forever in an incline, losing the booming sound of heavy metal influenced music for a few seconds regaining it as they went up the wooden platform onto the second level. What she saw momentarily immobilized her. It was something she didn't imagine ever being witness to in her life.
"Fuck..." was all Dean could say from the other end.
Fuck just about summed it all up. At the centre of the high ceilinged room highlighted by flashing reddish yellow light from the lower level was a group of fifteen, maybe twenty, naked beings making out and having intercourse with each other. With the foggy view at first she thought it was a projected image until one vampire spectator from the crowd undressed and joined in.
Music up there was as loud as below and the levels were separated by what she hoped was really thick and reinforced see-through glass. She could see what was going on down on the main floor and as many were looking up to see the other show. She was busy taking the scene in that she didn't even notice that Strix had left her side. He was off to the bar, ordering drinks from a thong-clad bartender and she took the moment to speak with Dean.
"Are you getting all this?"
"Unbelievable."
Dean had not recovered from his shock. They had seen a lot of crazy things and heard rumours but this was surreal. So far, the underdressed server was the only thing about the place that was probably illegal. It was a private party and the attendees were all consenting adults. She scanned her surroundings, straining for light, looking for their subject.
"You love Luna. You're getting married. You love Luna. You're getting married," Dean began reciting to himself annoyingly that after a few times she had to say something.
"Get a grip. You don't have to look, you know."
"Easier said than done," Dean replied, "I really have a bad feeling about this. You should leave before Strix gets back. He wants his token of appreciation right now."
She looked over to where Strix was and the man was leering at her, touching himself. Ew...gross.
"I can handle him."
"I'm sure Strix would love it if you did. Remember, Disapparating will trip the security wards and…"
"And the place is sealed tight there's a possibility it will take long to break through. Yeah I remember," she finished for him.
"Hmm, that's something I've never tried before," Dean mused as something had obviously caught his attention.
She scolded him, "Stop taking down pointers and help me find Corpuscula."
"Darn it. Where is that picture of her in throes of passion? I might have better luck recognizing her with it," he was joking of course.
A couple who had been devouring each other close by got up and went through one of a few doors off to the side, presumably into another room for a more private session. As they disappeared, she noticed a young man come out of the room beside it, unsteady, pale and dazed, his shirt collar unbuttoned, exposing fresh puncture marks on his neck. He was being held upright by a vampire, blood dripping from her visible fangs and down her chin. The woman gently coaxed him back into the room.
This was what Bloody Mary was talking about. The party was a recruitment event, perfectly legal as long as the converts were of age and did not die in the process. Vampirism, like lycanthropy was no longer considered an affliction but an alternative lifestyle choice, at least on paper. There were those like Bloody Mary who thought the conversions were wrong, that vampires should be born as such and not made.
"Heads up. Your boyfriend's back," Dean announced.
Strix had two tall phials with steamy pink potions in his hand which rippled to the beat of rock music.
"Try this," he gave her one phial, "It'll relax you."
She pretended to drink obediently, making the potion vanish gradually before it got past her lips.
"What's your name?" Strix asked, working on his potion.
"Luna."
"Ha, ha. Very funny," Dean found it less amusing than she did, "A bit low on creativity tonight, are we."
"That's pretty. You do look radiant like the sun," the man complimented.
"Thank you," she feigned appreciation, "I must say that no one has ever said that about my name before."
"That's because he's a friggin' moron," Dean added, calling it right.
There was a buzz on Dean's end and she heard him curse.
"I'm ready," creepy Strix said out loud, excited.
Hermione pretended not to hear. She was anxious about Dean and had to check up on him.
Facing away from the vampire, she murmured into the transmitter pod, "Are you okay?"
"We're busted," her partner informed her, "Harry is on his way."
"What?!" she shrieked, forgetting where she was.
"I'm patching him through."
"Have you gone mad?" Harry's voice replaced Dean's as Strix guided her hand over to his groin.
Dean replied for her, chuckling, "I don't think she can answer that right now. She has her hands full."
Nice. Sometimes the things she went through to do a good job just weren't worth it.
"I said I'm ready," the vampire, thinking she didn't hear him the first time, screamed over the music.
And quite obviously so from the feel of it - double ew.
"This isn't a good idea, Hermione," Harry said gravely, "Ditch the bloodsucker. You need to get out, now."
She partly agreed. The creep was getting all frisky and his fangs showed the last time he spoke. But she was not leaving, not until she got what she came in for. Harry knew this all too well. She overheard him asking Dean to feed him her exact location. Thinking how things could easily get out of control and how she still had nothing to show for all their effort, she motioned with her eyes over to the rooms where couples were disappearing into.
"Can we go in there?" she asked, taking the opportunity to remove her hand from it's predicament.
Strix's reply was a hasty 'of course'. He took her into one of the rooms and began undressing the second the door shut. From the brief glimpse she had it was a bedroom, well, a coffin room, and they were alone. As Strix predictably made for her neck she forcefully shoved him off her and Petrified him.
"I'm coming through the door," Harry warned her just as the stiff Strix thudded on the floor.
The entrance cracked a peep and closed, locking as it did. Harry took off his Invisibility Cloak and immediately confronted her.
"Are you trying to get yourself fired?!"
"What?" she questioned his uproar innocently, "We're following up on a tip."
"On a case you know is off limits!"
There was really no need to raise his voice, although she did note he was trying not to.
"I don't know what you're talking about. Dean, do you know what he's talking about?"
"Not a clue," Dean backed her up.
"Do I look like Trussel to you?" Harry didn't believe them, "What exactly are you two up to?"
When she didn't answer Harry asked Dean again and her partner needed no further convincing to get Harry involved.
Dean confessed with contained eagerness, "Gaunt's Wasabi girlfriend is in there somewhere."
"Weak link," she barbed.
"Told you he wouldn't buy it."
"I'll deal with you later."
Harry continued at her, "You don't know what you're getting into with Gaunt."
Hermione retorted, "Only because our own Ministry won't tell us about him. And since when has going in blind been reason not to work a case? Last I read catching dangerous wizards was part of my job or did I miss that memo?"
"Good one," Dean cheered her on, a feeble attempt to get back on her good side.
"Don't you get cheeky with me," Harry warned her and while in the past his disapproval upset her, this one surprisingly didn't, thanks in part to the Hag who gave her lots of practice to question authority without discomfiture.
"Gaunt may not even be here and his girlfriend may have left," she reasoned, hoping not but that was beside the point, "This could be a lame lead. There's no sense waking up the entire team, getting the pro-vampirism community upset and implicating a Wizengamot elder for harbouring a fugitive. We need confirmation and when we get it you can decide what to do."
It was a compromise. She preferred if Harry told her what this was really about but that would mean him going against the Minister himself. Harry had a lot of respect for Kingsley that he would never do something like that. At this point he was calmer and he wasn't summoning additional Aurors onto the scene which, to her, were signs that he was okay with her plan.
She performed Legilimency on the now fuming Vampire, got as much information as she could and then Obliviated him. A sleep charm and a planted dream later, she told Harry what she found out.
"Corpuscula is a frequent guest, a Turner. She should be in one of the rooms up here converting others."
"And Gaunt?"
"Strix doesn't know him."
"We're going to check the rooms," he said out loud for Dean, who she imagined was now getting them more information, "What's your cover?"
He perused her disguise, his eyes wandering from her made up face, tracing the plunging neckline of her apparel down to the tip where her cleavage was purposely exposed. It was probably her imagination but his gaze seemed to have lingered there longer than required before moving lower to the curve of her waist and her hips to below the above-knee hemline to her legs. She blushed.
"Entertainment. The informer suggested it," she managed to finally say.
It wasn't the first time she used the disguise and as it was part of the job it didn't bother her when Dean gave her a glance over to verify believability earlier. It was obviously all her imagination.
Note to self…keep your head together and stop acting like some hormone influenced twit.
"We should probably tone in down a bit," he suggested, "To attract less attention."
There he was stealing a glance at her cleavage again!
"Harry!"
His eyes jerked up quickly, embarrassed, "Sorry."
Dean interrupted the awkward situation, "According to the floor plans, there are nine other rooms all along that narrow corridor."
"What are your exit options?" Harry enquired.
"I was going to walk out the same way I came in," she answered.
"That's it?"
"I figured if I found her we'd get back up."
Harry frowned, as if questioning if she was serious about the lack of an escape plan.
"Oh shit!" Dean yelled out suddenly, "Somebody just tripped off the wards. Security is doing a sweep to investigate."
"How many?" she asked.
"Not sure, I only have them on audio," Dean replied anxiously, "They're on their way up the ramp. You have a minute, maybe two; you might want to start making your way out now."
"I'm not leaving," she was planting her foot down on this one.
Knowing better than to argue, Harry said, "We'll check the rooms first. Dean, find us another way out."
"I'm on it."
She could hear a flurry of activity on Dean's end. They made for the door but went back in as they saw menacing guards interrupting guests at centre stage. They wheeled around wands drawn out, their eyes darting left to right and back, sweeping the windowless room. Her heart was pounding hard and fast her head was throbbing.
Think!
Her focus narrowed down to the small bathroom, the good size coffin and the passed out vampire. Harry beat her to a solution.
"Quick! To the coffin!" he ordered.
Harry moved Strix under it and covered him up with the invisibility cloak. Not exactly what she had in mind.
"I'm not hiding in there!" she said clearly, pointing to the bloodstained foam inside the wooden furniture.
"Why not?!"
Did he really have to ask?
"You know what goes on in this place!" she hissed, "Merlin only knows what grows in there!"
"Now's not the time for this," Harry growled at her.
"Well, why can't he be in the coffin and us under the cloak?" she offered a plausible alternative.
"When was the last time we both fit under my cloak?"
"I'll risk it."
"You have two choices," Harry laid it out for her patiently, "Stay out here and blow your cover or get in the coffin and hope they don't check it."
She let out an exasperated sigh. There was actually a third one but she'd rather be in the coffin than that. Her options limited, she Scourgified the insides while Harry paced, checking the door nervously at the same time.
"Um...they're right outside," Dean coolly reminded them, "I'm counting ten magicals, seven with wands."
She made a motion to Scourgify one more time but Harry couldn't wait anymore. He lifted her up despite her protests, swung her into the softly cushioned box and followed her in, shutting the cover behind him as he did. They were instantly thrown into complete darkness.
He was on top, facing her, trying to prop himself up by the elbows. The space was tight, their bodies were snug and their faces were so close they were breathing the same stale blood smelling air. They could hear footsteps in and about the room followed by muffled conversation. A sudden wave of nausea came over her. She closed her eyes as her breaths became rapid and shallow. Harry sensed it.
"Relax. Slow deep breaths," he whispered near her left ear, his warm words gently stroking the skin just below it, sending goose bumps up and down her spine.
The awareness of his proximity was both reassuring and unsettling. She felt him shaking a bit and, thinking that his arms were probably tired, she shifted slightly to give him more room. That didn't work and instead knocked off his right support causing his body to settle upon hers even more.
"Sorry," he apologized, his breath causing, yet again, a pleasant discomfort.
"It's okay," she muttered back but as she turned and said it her lips grazed the lobe of his ear. Harry stiffened up when it happened it was her turn to apologize, "I'm sorry."
Shit! It happened again.
"I'm so sor..."
"Just stop talking," Harry cut her off this time and exhaled a long controlled breath on her neck.
Geez...more goose bumps and breathing difficulties of a different sort. Perhaps she should tell him to desist from doing that. Fighting off the memory of how his skin felt on her lips, she had to focus on something else.
Her arms. Her arms were pinned beneath them and were becoming numb. She slowly loosened them and upon freeing them up she was faced with a most important decision.
To wrap or not to wrap? And if so, above waist or below?
Maybe she should have left her appendages where they were. She eventually decided on the more awkward but less intimate choice. Not that it made much of a difference for moments later Harry needed another adjustment and he inadvertently caused their forms to find a natural grove against the other.
"Looks like they're leaving," Dean informed them happily.
Merlin...his freshly showered soapy scent had long replaced the bloody odour of the coffin and she could now feel every inch of his firm chest...his strong thighs...the bulge of his...
She moved uncomfortably...bad idea. His right leg fell in between hers and certain parts rubbed where they shouldn't have. Harry let out a low pitched curse.
"What was that?" a clear question was asked by someone in the room, effectively snapping her out of the distraction.
Dean helped them out, "Six are back. Three by the door and three closing in on you from both sides and up top. They just beefed up the wards. Disapparition is not a good option."
"Why do I have to open it?"
"Because I did it the last time!"
"Get him to do it!"
It would be wishful thinking that the arguing would go on much longer.
Thinking strategy, she clasped her wand tightly and said, "You have the top, I got the two on the side."
"You're sure Gaunt's girl is here?" Harry asked her.
"Yes."
"Put your wand away. I have an idea though I don't think you'll like it," Harry said with gravity.
"What?"
"It could work if you don't hex me."
"What?"
"I'm really sorry."
With those words she felt his mouth descend upon hers, taking it with raw determination and fierceness that caught her both breathless and off-guard. The momentary shock came and went away quickly. She tried to back off and avoid his actions without success, not that she gave it a good earnest try. His fingers were in her hair, caressing, keeping her head in place. He was using more of his body too, pinning hers down and pressing against hers. She wasn't going anywhere soon.
He's pretending. It's okay to pretend. It's this or get caught with nothing to show for.
Dean was in the dark as they were, "What's going on?"
Harry's mouth left hers momentarily to answer, "Later."
Right. If Dean found out she'd have to kill them both.
His lips were back and skillfully prodded hers into submission. It only made sense to kiss back. After all it was her who got them into this and Harry was merely trying to save her ass. Hermione let loose and let the moment take her away. She followed his lead, meeting his effort with equal wildness, inviting his tongue in with hers as their kisses became hotter and deeper. Her body rapidly melted underneath his while her idle hands grew minds of their own, wandering to touch and feel the warm flesh underneath the sweater. He moaned against her and the logical next step was to take his top off completely, confirming what she already imagined to be true.
This pretending isn't so hard to do. Feels kind of real.
His bare torso brushed up against her heightened breasts, causing her to involuntarily sigh against his blistering kiss. It crossed her mind that maybe they were pretending too early and too much but figured now was not the time to discuss the matter.
The casket creaked and a flood of light basked them as the cover suddenly came off. To her dismay they had to abruptly end the snogging and shield their eyes against the brightness. They were both breathless, unarmed and not totally in command of their mental capacities, at least she wasn't. Harry in all that had the presence of mind to transform himself to be less recognizable and have more vampire-like features.
"What's going on?" Harry asked the wizards with wands, acting as if annoyed by the rude disruption.
"That was my question," a somewhat suspicious Dean commented.
Hermione could only hope that her swollen lips, spaced out look and disheveled appearance were convincing enough. If not, maybe they should have started making out sooner.