“This is bloody ridiculous!” Hermione can’t believe Harry’s audacity. “You can’t do this, Harry James Potter. I’m owling Kingsley!”
“I can and I am,” Harry says patiently. “You left me no choice, Hermione. I warned you that those letters were the real thing, and now you’ve been hurt because you refused to listen to me. Kingsley supports my decision, but feel free to owl him if you want.”
“It’s just a flesh wound,” she points out, rubbing the bandage covering the wound in question. A curse had nearly taken off her left arm, but she’d been knocked out of the way in time for it to just graze her shoulder. It hurts, but it could have been much worse. “The healer said it’ll be back to normal in a couple of days. You heard him. I have potions to take and should rest it, but that’s it.”
“I don’t care if it’s back to normal now. You still put yourself at risk, deliberately, because you’re too stubborn to take precautions. I gave you a chance to do it your way because I didn’t want to fight, but I’m taking over now.” Harry gives her a look that penetrates through her anger and makes her feel guilty. “I’m not losing you because you refuse to look after yourself. As the head of the aurors, you have been placed under house arrest until this case is solved. Auror Greengrass has been assigned to protect you. She has quick reflexes and managed to save you from the curse this morning, so I think she’s the best choice.”
“She’s an annoying pain in the arse who just happened to be in the right place at the right time,” Hermione points out. “She’s only an auror because she didn’t want to marry Malfoy and that’s the only way she could get her family to break that archaic marriage contract, and you know it.”
“I know that’s why she became an auror, but it’s not what kept her in my department. She’s good, Hermione. I wouldn’t trust your life with someone merely playing at being an auror, and you know it.” Harry sighs and suddenly looks much older than his twenty-six years. “Stop fighting me on this, alright? Someone tried to kill you. Probably the same someone who has sent you threatening letters and isn’t just one of the usual crackpots who harrass you. I know that there’s some kind of animosity between you and Daphne for whatever reason, but she’s a solid auror who has been just as concerned as I have since Robards brought the threatening owls to our attention.” He gives her a pointed look when he says Robards’ name.
She grimaces. “I’m sorry that I didn’t report them to you immediately. He just happened to be there when one arrived, and I thought he was overreacting because I’m used to receiving hate mail.” She knows it’s a sore spot for him that one of his aurors knew before him but she can only apologize so many times. “As for Greengrass, I don’t know why she dislikes me so much because it actually isn’t a blood issue for her like the other Slytherins. I’ll deal with her if necessary. I appreciate you not assigning Higgins or Mortimer the case because I really can’t stand either of them.”
“Well, I plan to be here a lot, too, since Ron is taking lead on the case and handling it officially, so I want someone I can tolerate, too. Besides, she’s the next best after me, Ron, and Robards.” Harry rubs his forehead. “I don’t want to risk any accusations of conflict of interest when this person is caught and put on trial, so I’m making Ron and Robards handle it all. While we haven’t gone public with our relationship, I know we will eventually, so I’m thinking ahead.”
“You don’t have to put me under house arrest, Harry. I’ll listen to you and be careful,” she says, realizing that her behavior is probably more than a little obstinate. She certainly hadn’t believed there was a real threat until that morning, but she knows she’s going to have to be cautious because she doesn’t want Harry to be worried.
Harry walks over and kisses her. “I’ve already done it, love. I’m sorry, but it’s the only way I can be sure you’ll actually be safe. If we were strangers and I was given this case, I’d make the same suggestions, and you know I wouldn’t force this if it wasn’t standard operating procedure.”
“I’m not happy about it,” she warns him. “I feel like my control is being taken away and you’re forcing me to do something I don’t want to do. I do understand it’s probably standard protocol, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“I know. I’m in the doghouse, but it’s a small price to pay for your safety,” he says. His lips quirk slightly as he moves his hands up and down her arms. “If you really dislike having Greengrass assigned to you, I could always ask Kreacher to stay with you. He likes protecting Missy Mudblood.”
“You’re an arse,” she mutters, glaring at him. “Though, ask me again in a couple of days. Kreacher might be an improvement by then.”
“Yes, I am, but I’m your arse.” Harry kisses her forehead. “The healer said you’re supposed to be taking it easy. That means rest, not having tantys because you’re being forced into protective custody.”
“If you don’t bring me my files, I’m going to go mental,” she says. “I’m already bored just thinking about it.”
“What do you mean go?” Harry ducks out of the way of the punch she aims for his arm. “I’ll stop by and get them tomorrow.”
Before she can say anything, she hears the Floo and watches as Greengrass steps through carrying an overnight bag and a stack of folders. She blinks at the folders and slowly smiles. “There’s no need, Harry. It looks like Auror Greengrass has already picked them up for me.”
“Picked what up?” Greengrass arches her brow and looks between Hermione and Harry. “Oh, the files. Of course. Merlin forbid Granger not be able to work. The world might stop rotating. I had Bones gather up the cases you’re actively working on, so blame her if you’re missing something.”
“No work until tomorrow,” Harry says, moving his arm around Hermione’s waist when she starts to walk past him to get the paperwork from Greengrass. “Healer’s orders. Remember? Greengrass, hide that until the morning.”
Greengrass is watching them again. Hermione swats at Harry’s hand and rolls her eyes when he just tightens his grip. “Harry, let me go. I was just going to put them away.”
“Liar. You’d have ended up browsing through them to make sure Susan sent the ones you wanted most, and then you’d have started reading whichever one is currently holding your interest the most.” Harry laughs. “You think you can fool me, but I know you too well.”
“You’re a prat,” she mutters. “I guess we’ll never know if your lack of faith in my ability to obey my healer’s instructions is correct or not because you failed to give me the opportunity to prove myself.”
A throat clearing draws her attention, and she looks over to see Greengrass still watching them. “So, it’s like that, is it?” Greengrass slowly smiles. “Since I haven’t read the wonderful news in the Prophet, I assume it’s a secret?”
“Yeah, it’s like that,” Harry says, surprising Hermione by being completely honest. “It’s not a secret, exactly. We’re just keeping it private because we don’t want to deal with the attention right now.” He looks down at her and shrugs a shoulder. “She was going to find out anyway since I’ll be sleeping here some nights.”
“So you’re, what, dating? Shagging? Planning a happy little life with baby Gryffindors who have unmanageable hair and poor eyesight?” Greengrass snorts. “Some nights indicates that you haven’t reached the living together stage yet, so what stage is it?”
“We’re in the ‘it’s none of your bloody business’ stage,” Hermione says, her tone a little more sharp than intended.
“Ah, but you’re wrong,” Greengrass says, her amused smile fading as she stands straighter. “I know, and I could easily arrange a little meeting with Skeeter, probably earn a few extra galleons for having such a big story.”
“Ha. That wouldn’t surprise me. Harry seems to think you’re so trustworthy, but I guess he’s been blinded by blonde hair and long legs.” Hermione might have a bigger chest than Daphne, but the other woman is taller, which means her legs are much longer and shapely than Hermione’s. Harry has to have admired them if she has.
“Noticed my legs, have you? You know, I saved your unappreciative prissy arse this morning, Granger. You should be more thankful. I can think of a variety of ways for you to express your gratitude.” She somehow manages to make a sneer look wicked and naughty. It’s probably something taught in the Slytherin common room, Hermione decides, because Zabini used to be able to do that, too.
“That’s enough,” Harry says, interrupting them before Hermione can reply. “I refuse to allow you to use my personal relationship as a bartering item of any sort. I’ll arrange a meeting with Skeeter myself before it comes to that. Greengrass, stop provoking her. Hermione, stop antagonizing her.”
“Me?” Hermione glares at him. “She’s the one suggesting I express my gratitude in depraved ways!”
“I never actually specified any particular way,” Greengrass points out with a smirk. “You must have a twisted mind, Granger. I’m appalled at the idea that you think I’d ever suggest something improper.”
Harry curses under his breath. “I can’t believe I’m so blind,” he mutters. “What’s that Muggle saying about not seeing what’s right in front of you?” He shakes his head and rubs the bridge of his nose. “How long, Greengrass?”
“What?” Greengrass frowns and crosses her arms across her chest.
“How long have you wanted my girlfriend, Daphne?” Harry asks, reaching over to rub the back of Hermione’s neck when she stares at him in shock, wondering if he’s gone crazy.
“Didn’t bloody well know she was your girlfriend, did I?” Greengrass glares. “I’ve caught her staring at me before, thought she might be into girls, too.”
“I haven’t…” Hermione stops talking when Harry squeezes her neck.
“You have,” he says gently. “I’ve seen you once or twice, love. I always thought that was why you liked arguing with her, because you were attracted to her and that’s how you handle it sometimes.”
“Really?” Greengrass is staring at Harry now. “You didn’t care that your girlfriend wanted me in her knickers?”
Harry snorts. “I didn’t find it a threat, especially when I knew she hadn’t even realized she was attracted to you. But, even if she had, it’s not a threat. We love each other. I trust her, and I know she’s not going to hurt me anymore than I’d hurt her.” He looks at Hermione and smiles. “Besides, it’s hot, isn’t it? Thinking about sharing her with someone else who can appreciate how amazing she is and who can help me make her come.”
“Seriously?” Hermione looks at him and feels a slight headache coming on because she can’t believe he’s bringing all this up right now. She’s feeling sleepy suddenly, and she is annoyed that the pain potion seems to finally be working right when they’re in the middle of discussing something this serious. While she is perfectly aware that she’s bisexual, has known this fact since she and Luna got to know each other extremely well during the year she returned to Hogwarts to take her NEWTs, she’s never discussed it with Harry beyond a mention of her past sexual history. “Sharing me?”
“I’m a man, Hermione,” he murmurs. “Like I’ve been able to not fantasize about that knowing about you and Luna? And Daphne is attractive, even if I’m not particularly interested in being with her myself.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not offended by that at all. Daphne doesn’t want to be with you, either, Harry,” Greengrass says. “I don’t mind cock, but I prefer my partners soft and curvy. Is this some elaborate prank? Or are you honestly talking about what I think you’re suggesting?”
“Well, I’m coming up with this spontaneously because I hadn’t realized the reason you follow her around like a puppy is because you want in her knickers, but, yes, I’m serious,” Harry says, giving Greengrass a pointed look. “I’ve thought about us having another woman join us sometime because I know she enjoys it, and I guess I’m lecherous enough to want to watch.”
“Most men are,” Greengrass points out. “No matter how noble and heroic, they’re all about sex and base needs underneath it all. I think Granger’s speechless. Did we break her?”
“I’m not broken,” she says, running her fingers through her hair. “This is a lot to take in, and I think the pain potion is starting to work finally because I feel a bit dizzy and sleepy. If we’re considering having sex in the near future, you need to call me Hermione, though, because I’m not about to call out Greengrass when your face is buried in my cunt.”
“Yeah, the potion seems to be kicking in.” Harry smiles sweetly at her. “You’re being far too candid to not be under the influence right now.”
“I can be candid,” she mutters, swaying against him. “Have you seen her legs? They’re so long and toned. I want to slide up and down them until I come. And I want her mouth on my tits. She has nice full lips. They’ll look great around my nipples.”
“Fuck,” Greengrass murmurs. “You can call me anything you want if I get to remind you of all this once the potion wears off, Hermione.”
“I want to fuck her, too. Oh! You can fuck me while I use a toy on her, or maybe both of you can have me at the same time,” Hermione decides, moving into Harry’s arms when he hugs her against him. “We’ll have a lot of fun with her, won’t we?”
“Yes, we will, love,” he agrees, kissing the top of her head. “I bet it makes this house arrest a lot more tolerable if you’re playing naughty games with her.”
“I’m not a toy,” Daphne points out, because Hermione might well be on her way to being loopy from pain potions but she remembers that it’s not Greengrass now because they’re going to have sex soon. “However, I will reluctantly allow myself to be used in whatever sexual capacity she wants because it’s all part of a cunning scheme.”
“We’ll talk about this more tomorrow when she’s not high on potions,” Harry says, running his hand up and down Hermione’s back in a soothing motion. “If she’s interested, I’m willing to share because I love her and love making her happy. Obviously, it’ll be private, so no more empty threats about going to the newspaper or any of that nonsense.”
“I would never have done that. You know I respect you, Harry, or I wouldn’t have ever bothered actually working for you once my baby sister was stuck with Malfoy. It worked out well in the end, though, since she actually cares about the miserable git, and I prefer women to men, which would have made being a broodmare difficult.” Daphne grins. “Speaking of Malfoy, can I at least wait for the perfect opportunity to casually tell him that I got to be the meat in a Potter-Granger sandwich and it was even better than those boyhood fantasies he wanked to at Hogwarts?”
“No taunting Malfoy about anything.” Harry laughs softly before he swings Hermione into his arms. She smiles up at him and gives him a sloppy kiss on the chin before settling against his chest. “I’m putting her to bed. Do a parameter check and review the post to make sure there’s been no more communication from the person threatening her. We didn’t have time to review it when we got back from St. Mungo’s because she was not very happy about the house arrest.”
“Mad at you,” Hermione murmurs, snuggling closer to him. “Not the criminal. Shouldn’t be arrested.”
“I’ll get it taken care of, Boss.” Daphne leans down to kiss Hermione’s cheek, just a light pressing of her lips against skin. “I’m looking forward to that talk tomorrow, even if she’s likely to hex me for seeing her so vulnerable.”
Hermione rolls her head slightly so she can look at Daphne. “No hexing. Just kissing. Gotta sleep now. My shoulder hurts. Night night.”
“Goodnight, Hermione.” Daphne strokes her cheek before turning to go through the stack of post on the table.
“C”mon, love. Let’s get you upstairs and settled down,” Harry says, shifting Hermione’s weight before he carries her out of the room. “Your shoulder won’t hurt for much longer. The potions are definitely working, so you won’t feel a thing soon enough. You don’t need to worry about that person hurting you ever again because Daphne and I are going to keep you safe.”
End
House Arrest
Story Notes:
9/9/14