He followed her down the dingy hallway, trying his best to ignore the stench of sex and the cries of pleasure and pain coming from the closed doors of the rooms they passed. When he had first heard the rumor that she was working in a place like this, he had refused to believe it was anything more than spiteful gossip. The source had been less than stellar, a Ravenclaw that had graduated a year ahead of him, but his curiosity had been piqued. Ernie had done a bit of investigating, trying to determine what had happened to Hermione after the War, but all of his leads had led to more questions and no answers.
Shortly after Potter's death two days after the final battle with Voldemort three years ago, she had disappeared. They had been friends and he had always speculated that they could possibly have been more had the situation and times warranted romance. As it had happened, romance and love had been the last thing on anyone's mind during the War. Survival, success, living to see the next day. That had been his focus, her focus.
Following their victory against Voldemort, despite the enormous casualties, it had been a time for rejoicing and looking towards the future. Unfortunately, even with Voldemort's defeat, there was still prejudice against Muggleborns. When she had disappeared after several months of attempting to find her place in the new wizarding world, he had assumed she had gone back to the Muggles. He had never expected to find her again, though he had often thought of her during quiet times at work and wondered where she was and what she was doing.
When he had finally discovered the small brothel in the worst part of Knockturn Alley, he had thought it ridiculous to even consider that Hermione would be in such a place. It was well-kept for that sort of place, most of the people he had seen in the lobby familiar from the ministry and the more lucrative parties he attended, but it was no place for the woman who had helped win the War, the woman he had admired for her intelligence, caring, and pretty face. He had inquired despite his belief that he was following the wrong trail, shocked when he was told where to find her.
He'd located her at a small table in the corner, her long curly brown hair concealing her face as she had read a book. Time had stood still for a moment and he found himself back at Hogwarts, sneaking glances at her in the library. She had looked up, her amber eyes flashing with surprise that she quickly hid, a resigned expression crossing the face that he still found beautiful despite others merely calling it pretty. She had not spoken, simply stood up, displaying a body that was too thin, as if she did not eat properly, and breasts that were more full than he’d imagined during the many fantasies that had centered around the former Head Girl since he was fifteen.
Her arse was tight and firm, the thin material of her frock barely covering the soft swell of her cheeks as she quietly led him to what he assumed was her room. His hands were in the pockets of his robe, fingering the galleons that he had brought along just in case he did find her. When she entered a room, he followed. Turning to face him, she arched a brow and looked at him closely before finally speaking.
“Do you have the money?”
“Yes,” he handed her the coins, watching as she discretely counted the stack before placing it a small pouch that she put on the table beside the bed.
“What would you like?”
“I, well,” he stammered, not at all certain what he was allowed.
“You must want something, Ernie, so tell me,” she said curtly, her voice reminding him of the times she scolded her friends for not doing their homework, his cock twitching instantly as he realized that this was really happening.
“Why are you here? Working like this?”
“You purchased my body, Ernie. My mind and soul are not for sale,” she said sharply. He watched as she took a deep breath, causing her breasts to nearly spill from the fabric barely confining them. She walked to the small table and retrieved something from the drawer. With a flick of her wand, he saw a flash of flame before she faced him, handing out a cigarette. “Smoke this. It will help relax you.”
“Is that?”
“You just bought a former friend to use for sex yet you find drug usage shocking?” Her voice was amused, though her eyes were blank, lacking the life and energy that he remembered. She looked old suddenly, wise beyond her years in a way that made him feel uncomfortable for being here, adding to her burden by reminding her of what had been not long ago.
He slowly brought the cigarette to his lips, inhaling and then exhaling. Repeating his actions a few more times, he felt himself begin to relax. Looking back at her, he ran his tongue over his lips. “Strip. I want you to take your clothes off.”
Holding her head high, she unfastened the straps holding the cloth over her body. He watched as it slid to the ground, leaving her in a pair of burgundy knickers. He was right. She was too thin, lacking the curves he remembered so fondly. Her breasts were firm, not quite large enough to fit the palm of his hand, her nipples a dark pink, hard and erect.
“The knickers, too,” he demanded quietly before bringing the cigarette back to his lips. When the knickers were off, he could see the chestnut curls covering her mound, neat and tidy as one would expect from Hermione. “Lie down. I want to watch you touch yourself.”
“Really, Ernie. Must we play these games? You only paid for an hour. Do you want my mouth, my cunt, or my arse? Or perhaps you want them all? You bought me so there is no need for seduction. Just fuck me and get it done.”
“I said I want you to lie on the bed,” he snapped, watching her eyes flicker with emotion for the first time since he’d found her downstairs. For a moment, he thought she might refuse, seeing a similar spark to when she had fought with Weasley. It was gone as quick as it arrived, replaced by that dull and resigned look as she moved to lie down. “Now touch yourself. I want you put your fingers inside and get them wet.”
“Yes, master,” she replied, her words bitter even as they sounded agreeable.
“Don't refer to me in that way,” he said softly. “Ernie. Call me Ernie.”
She ignored him, focusing on a spot above his shoulder as she moved her hands down her body. Her fingers twisted her nipples before drifting between her legs. She placed her feet on the bed, her legs spread so he could see her fully, her finger sliding along her folds before moving inside her. He tossed the remains of the cigarette on the table before he quickly removed his robe and clothing. Sitting on the bed beside her, his hand moved to join hers. His fingers moved inside her, feeling the wetness that was beginning to flow, watching her close her eyes as a low moan escaped her.
“You paid for this, Ernie. I am here for your pleasure, not my own. I know you fancied me in school. I think everyone knew and it was sweet and in a different life it might have been something, but this isn't some romantic fantasy. I am not with you because of my choice. I am here because it is the only work I can find that will allow me to remain in the world that I helped save. I have plans, Ernie. I am not going to stay here selling myself forever. I am saving my money and almost have enough to begin taking the classes necessary to become a healer. This is about money and sex, not love and ridiculous schoolboy fantasies.”
“How many men do you fuck a day?”
“I have three or four clients every night,” she said casually, spreading her legs as he moved between them, seemingly unaffected by her situation though he knew better. “I service men and woman, sometimes couples. They pay more, you know. So do those with special interests.”
“Special interests?”
“They like to beat me, call me names, degradation and humiliation. Not many girls are willing to participate but I will. Words mean nothing, after all, and they pay well. The owner is very careful about the clientele despite the shabbiness of the surroundings so I know they won't hurt me in any way that can't be healed.”
“How can you be so glib?” He rubbed his cock against her cunt, groaning softly as he started to enter her. Looking into her eyes, he whispered, “You deserve more.”
“Silly naïve boy,” she laughed softly, her body arching up as he slid forward suddenly, penetrating her deeply. “Reality isn't a fairy tale, Ernie. Reality is that I lost everyone I love fighting a war that I should never have been a part of and now I am forced to sell my body to survive. Do you think this is what I had planned for my future? I am nothing more than a whore.”
“You’re wrong,” he whispered as he fucked her, his lips moving over her neck and breasts as he pushed her against the mattress. She was letting him use her, lying beneath him making all the expected sounds and movements, but he was far from stupid. Her mind was elsewhere, which was not surprising. He imagined it was the only way she could endure her life. She was so bloody tight, not at all what he would expect from someone in her line of work. Her fingernails moved over his back, scratching and clawing at him as he moved in and out.
His hands gripped her hips tightly, wanting to bruise her, wanting a reminder that he had been there that she could not ignore. He bit her neck and breasts, her body rocking beneath his, her moans and whimpers filling his mind. Her muscles tightened around him, her legs wrapped around his, her cunt refusing to let him go on each pull out, eagerly accepting him each time he thrust forward. Her fingers were tangled in his hair, gripping him tightly as she gasped when he began to grind against her clit. Raising his head from the breasts he had been sucking and nibbling, he brought his lips to hers, her head turning before he could kiss her.
“You didn't pay that much, Ernie,” she whispered softly, her eyes closing momentarily before she was again writhing under him. Suddenly, she pushed his chest, rolling them over so she was on top. She began to ride his cock, her hand squeezing her breasts as she scratched his chest. Licking his nipples, pressing her wet breasts against his stomach, her curly hair brushing against his bare skin.
His fingers tangled in the gorgeous locks that he had always wanted to touch, to feel against him, pulling her head forward. He refused to let her get away as he kissed her, feeling her tense and struggle, his cock throbbing even more as she no longer simply took everything he gave her. His hips arched up into her cunt as he came, his fingers finding her clit and twisting, needing her to come. Her lips were closed but they opened when he fingered her clit, his tongue claiming her mouth. She came with a whimper, her muscles milking his cock until he was empty, his hand relaxing its grip as she began to kiss him back.
When he fell back against the bed sated and spent, she moved off him quickly, her eyes narrowed as she rubbed her mouth with the back of her hand. “You need to leave now.”
“Hermione,” he sat up as he ran his fingers through his hair.
“Get dressed and go. You had your fuck.”
“If this is your general attitude, I doubt you get many repeat clients,” he muttered.
“It isn’t but you are not a normal client. We were friends, damn it. How can you come in here and buy me, Ernie? How can you be the same as all the others? I expected better from you.”
“You could have refused if you were uncomfortable.”
“You could have chosen someone else,” she said quietly, her hands deftly fastening the straps of her frock as she refused to look at him.
“I didn't want someone else. I wanted you.” He did a quick scourgify before pulling his pants and trousers on. “I came here looking for you.”
“Well, you found me. Sorry it was such a disappointment.” She turned to glare at him. “Reality is no place for schoolboy fantasies, Ernie. I trust that you have now learned that lesson.”
“You’re right. This was not my fantasy at all,” he sighed as he reached for his shoes. “I missed you and wanted to see you.”
“Spare me the sentimental nostalgia,” she snapped. “You came to a brothel with galleons in your pocket because you wanted to fuck me. Was it good for you? Having the prissy know-it-all moaning and whimpering from being fucked by your thick, hard cock?”
“This isn’t you, Hermione,” he looked into her eyes, refusing to believe she had become so jaded, bitter, and angry. Somewhere inside her was the woman he had fallen for all those years ago. She had changed, of course, but he knew she was not this cold, unfeeling creature she tried to be to protect herself from this horrible existence she was forced to live. She was still there, he just had to be patient until he could find her once again.
“This is me, Ernie. The girl you were looking for tonight? She died in the final battle along with her best friends. I’m not her anymore.”
“I don’t believe that,” he said earnestly.
“Bloody hell, you are impossible.” She shook her head. “Just leave. I have my money, you had your fuck. It’s time for you to go.”
He walked to the door, turning to look at her, their eyes meeting as he promised, “I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“You’re wasting you’re time, Ernie,” she said softly, her arms wrapping around her body as she sat on the edge of the dirty sheets.
Giving her a small smile, he said confidently, “No, I’m not.”
The End