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Requital by msscribe
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Requital

msscribe

Requital by Msscribe

Rating: R- (edited version). Full NC17 version on www.portkey.org.

Ships: H/Hr

Type: Angst\ Romance

Summary: A story of Hermione Granger coming to terms with her greatest loss, finding her own voice and strength, and coming of age in a world battered by a never-ending war.

Disclaimer: No profits are being made off the fiction on these pages. Harry Potter, associated characters and the associated Harry Potter universe is © J. K. Rowling and respective publishers. Fanfiction is fiction--it is not meant to be taken seriously in the least.

Chapter 4 - The Locust Lair

It was strange, and a little scary, how they had to crouch and squeeze through the doorway leading to the elusive back room of Club Mistress. Hermione wouldn't have believed the large man who had invited them inside would have ever made it through, if she hadn't seen it with her own eyes. Only three others were with them. One was an older lady dressed in elegant beads and the tackiest shoes Hermione had ever laid eyes on. The other was a handsome man of Asian descent, who was dressed more for the office than a nightclub. The last was Neville.

They were in a tunnel then, crowded together. There were no flashing lights and the music was drowned out as quickly as the door had shut behind them. There was the smell of something dark and painful in the air. Almost like rotting meat mixed with ammonia. She struggled to get used to it, her body not wanting to breathe too deeply.

After what seemed like an unusually long walk, the tunnel emptied out into a crowded room. The dark smell was gone, replaced by the scent of lilacs and mint. There were only two windows, crisscrossed with some sort of molten steel rods. There was music again, but it was subdued and quiet. The people were sitting around small tables having private discussions or playing Muggle Cards for what looked like great sums of money. The bar was small but exceptionally well stocked, with racks overflowing with wine and champagne.

Neville and the large man, whose name she discovered was Ivan, walked almost immediately to a woman behind the bar.

"If he gets the job, it will be much easier for us to get close to Locust," Cho whispered in Hermione's ear.

Hermione smiled and nodded knowingly, looking again at Neville and Ivan. Ivan was pointing to the various areas of the room and Neville seemed to be paying close attention to his lessons.

"Be alert," Cho warned, leading her over to an empty table by one of the barred windows.

Hermione was. She scoured the room looking for anyone who stood out. They had only a couple of vague descriptions of Locust Daviz, but when she found herself staring into a pair of the darkest black eyes she had ever seen, she knew she had found him. Cho hadn't missed this, and moved Hermione's face towards hers.

"It isn't polite to stare. Let him find us…" she warned, kissing Hermione again, hoping to lure him over.

Hermione was disappointed when she glanced around for Locust and he had moved. Her disappointment was short-lived, however, when she found him suddenly sitting at their table.

How did he get here so quickly, she thought to herself. He couldn't have apparated with all of these Muggles around?

"Everyone here is used to my trickery, " the man said, noticing the surprise on Hermione's face. "Don't be frightened; I'm just a magician. My name is Locust, and this is my party."

Hermione forced an adoring smile. Cho swooned with mock interest, declaring how brilliant his "trick" was.

Locust Daviz had pale skin, but it was flushed, especially his round cheeks which were unusually large. His eyes were glassy and glittery with whites that seemed just a bit too bright. He was a stocky man, with a thick muscular neck that rippled when he spoke, and she found herself trying not to stare at the way he had carefully combed a few stray strands of dyed black hair over his bald spot.

"I'm Rasa," Cho said, "and this is Hailey."

"Pleasure," Hermione said, letting the words tumble off her painted lips, now wet with the champagne she found herself absently sipping. "I suppose we should thank you."

He flushed more, searching her face carefully.

"It's people like you that keep my club at the top of the A-List. Rasa…was it?" he said, suddenly looking at Cho again.

"Perhaps Hailey wouldn't mind if you accompanied me to a particularly rough game of blackjack. I need a lady luck and you look like just my type."

"So long as you bring her back." Hermione teased, mimicking what Cho had done earlier.

Locust led Cho to a table that included the old beaded woman and the Asian man. When they both pulled out large sums of money, Hermione realized why the two non-trendy people had been invited in the first place. Money made everyone more popular.

Locust sat Cho down on his lap. Hermione felt guilty at her own relief, as Locust let his hand wander up Cho's dress. She was glad he didn't choose her. She noticed Cho clench her teeth for a moment, but manage to flash a quick smile at Locust. Cho would have to continue to work with them on this case; that much was clear. The slimy git already seemed taken with her. Harry's informant was right. Locust seemed like a clever man, but with a weakness for beautiful women.

Hermione settled down at a table with a tiny brunette who seemed to be able to do nothing but stare into space. She decided she'd take in the scene. All she could do was keep her eyes open, and keep a mental checklist of the things Harry asked her to look for.

#

Harry and Ron sat at the bar drinking beer, nervously watching the door that their three companions had disappeared through earlier. Ron noticed Harry was unusually tense that night. It was normally Harry who kept a cool head during these missions. Heck, Ron even began to enjoy the information-gathering outings because they rarely ended in anything but a mean hangover. Percy used to pretend to drink. Everyone else, Penelope included, figured that one drink might be their last, so they'd better enjoy it. Lots of good it did Percy in the end.

Ron grimaced at that last thought, and then glanced back over to Harry. Harry was tracing a finger along his scar, thinking. Ron chuckled to himself. At least in the Muggle world, no one knew who he was. There were a few witches there who knew, but they certainly couldn't risk saying anything to Harry out in the open. The witch that Harry had asked to dance earlier knew. He could see her eyes continuously glaring at the scar, but she was smart enough to keep her mouth shut. Or, perhaps she was too drunk to care all that much. Anyhow, he was glad when she found someone else to dance with. She was attractive enough, but her anecdotes were almost as boring as Professor Flitwick's history class used to be.

"I don't see the point in hanging around. Cho and Neville are in there with Hermione," Ron said finally.

Harry looked curiously at Ron.

"I've known you for a long time, Harry. It's obvious that you're worried about her. She's done great tonight. We've got to meet them at the pancake house in three hours. That gives us time to go over next week's plans and figure out our strategy. And we could visit the informant…"

Harry pursed his lips, stifling a snort.

"Sounds like you have a handle on everything, agent Weasley. Except the informant part," Harry laughed.

Ron had been trying to find out for weeks who was leading the Ministry to the various leaders of the Dark Army. Harry had flat out refused to tell anyone, even Arthur Weasley. Ron was hurt at first, but he accepted it now. The informant would be slaughtered instantly if anyone were to find out who it was. Harry would protect the informant with his life after the lives that informant had managed to save by leaking information. Harry only wished he had found out about the attack on Hermione's parents sooner.

Ron shrugged and swatted Harry on the back.

"Let's go then, I've had enough of this scene."

Harry nodded, following closely behind Ron, only stopping to take one last look at the door.

"Be careful, Hermione. For God's sake don't screw up," he muttered.

#

Draco Malfoy could smell her hair, and it was driving him to distraction. Madness even. She had come to him using the passage under Malfoy Manor he had shown her in his last year of school, so she could still go to him. Her scent was intoxicating. Her soft young skin and her beautifully freckled arms clung to him, as she had done so many nights before.

She came to him for this. To feel loved again. For relief from the cares of her ever-changing world. This is familiar to her. This is safe. They have been here before. They have stepped across the lines so clearly drawn around them defining what they can…and cannot…be. He promised himself he wouldn't do it again, but he knew he would. His father was in the room above theirs. Why did she keep risking this?

"Ginny…"

"Shhhh…" she said.

He tried to make sense of it. To her it made perfect sense. She knew he was powerless over her when she stared up at him with her round blue eyes and red lips. It was torture to him. Things were different now. He was no longer at school and they couldn't play those games they used to play. They had simply sworn each other to secrecy then, when things were less complicated.

She let her fingers dance on his neck, snuggling into the crook of his arm. His bed was always so warm, so familiar. His hands were on her thighs, beckoning them to open for him…to let him inside again.