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Twice in a Blue Moon	By : UnseenLibrarian Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Bill Views: 19693 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters from it. I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Another chapter for you, my dears. Enjoy!

Reminder: This is a mature fic. That definition relates not just to sexual content but also to violence.

Betas: Many thanks to dormiensa, captainraychill, and rzzmg for all of their comments, their friendship, and beta-ing. Readers, any mistakes that you find are mine.

Disclaimer: I own nothing in this fiction except the plot idea, and make no money from it. JK Rowling's characters and locations are all hers.

CHAPTER 10

Diagon Alley

Friday, March 9, 2001

Moon phase: Full

It was pouring rain, and the wind was howling around every corner and through every crevice in Diagon Alley. The drops hammered against the windows of Fortesque's Ice Cream Parlour. Despite the weather, Bill and Hermione had ventured out of the bank at noon and managed to claim a corner booth. They were waiting for their lunch companions to arrive. Lavender and Ron arrived first. Lavender spied them, waved, and grabbed Ron's hand to drag him to their table.

"Here you are, Hermione! I wasn't sure we'd find you. This rain has driven everyone indoors," said Lavender, a bit breathless as she waddled over with her seven month pregnant belly in the lead. Hermione laughed and stood up to hug her friend, her own modest stomach bulge barely protruding. She looked down at Lavender's larger tummy and held out a tentative hand.

"Is the baby moving right now, Lav? May I feel her?"

"She sure is, and absolutely. Here, let me." Lav took Hermione's hand and laid it against her protruding belly. Hermione hesitantly caressed the spot. She felt nothing for a moment, and then several solid thumps against her palm told her that her little niece-to-be was awake and kicking. She gasped, and her eyes grew round with wonder.

"She's so active," she whispered. "I didn't know it would be quite so noticeable."

"Haven't you ever felt a pregnant woman's stomach before?" Bill asked in surprise.

"No. I've never had the chance," Hermione admitted. "I'm the only child of only children. I've not been around many pregnant women. No one I knew well enough to grope, at any rate." She gave Lav's belly a pat and withdrew her hand.

Lav laughed. "Well, I give you permission to grope me anytime you want." She nodded at the window. "Here come George and Angie."

"Oh, good, it'll be nice to catch up with them." It was a relief to be doing something casual and normal. Greyback's attack at Hogwarts in February had sent the Aurors into high alert mode. Though there had been no further sighting of the madman, they had insisted on keeping a close eye on her as she went about her day. For the past few weeks, if Bill hadn't been accompanying her on her travels, she'd had an Auror escort. She felt a bit like a damsel in distress with them constantly shadowing her.

Cloudy or clear, tonight was another full moon, and beneath jolly, joking exteriors, people's tensions were running high, Bill's in particular. He was in full-blown protective mode. His constant vigilance was sweet in a way, but she'd had to not-so-gently remind him more than once that she was not going to break apart in a stiff breeze, and that she was capable of defending herself if the need arose. She knew he knew that, but his wolf was strong and tended to push Bill's alertness buttons. It was very stressful.

An impish grin crept onto her face. At least he has an outlet at work for his anxieties. The poor interns were being put through the ringer under Bill's tutelage, especially Theo Nott, whom Bill hadn't yet forgiven for trying to put the moves on her.

Bill was relaxed at the moment, chatting animatedly with Ron about Quidditch scores. She reached out, searching, and was instantly gratified when he took her hand in his and squeezed it, threading their fingers together.

Noise and laughter heralded the arrival of the last two members of their party. "What ho, maties!" cried George, smacking Ron on the shoulder with a big, howdy-doo brotherly punch and kissing Lav and Hermione on the cheek. He gave Bill a high five and moved over to let Angelina hug and kiss both of her future sisters-in-law, too.

Florina, the great-granddaughter of Florean Fortesque, approached, smiling, and asked what they might like to have for lunch. After much discussion, everyone had placed their requests for various flavors of ice cream sundaes, and she left to put their orders together.

Lavender sighed. "Enjoy this while you can, Hermione," she said. "I only have a couple of months left of eating ice cream for lunch, and then I have to go back to eating salad and sprouts." She grinned wickedly. "With a healthy side of raw red meat!" Bill agreed heartily while the others all exclaimed in protest, whinging about their delicate stomachs.

After their sundaes arrived and everyone had started to feast, George regaled them with tales of how well the Hogsmeade shop was doing. He and Angelina were so animated, telling one funny story after another, that tears of laughter soon ran down Hermione's cheeks. It was obvious how well-suited they were.

"So, Angelina," Bill suddenly said in a bold voice, bringing the chatter to a halt. "When are you going to make an honest man of my brother, here?" He pointed at George with his spoon.

Angelina, seated next to George, chuckled. "You know perfectly well that your brother has only one month left as a free man," she said, a saucy smile gracing her features. George rolled his eyes.

"Hey now, George, being an indentured servant has its advantages," Bill said and wiggled his eyebrows. "But listen, you two. I have a proposition for you. Would you be terribly upset if Hermione and I were to join you at the altar? The mums want us to get married and make everything official," he said this while making quotes in the air with his fingers, "and if you would be willing, we could take part in your wedding and get married with a minimum amount of fuss."

Angelina had started nodding excitedly even before Bill had finished speaking. "Absolutely! That would be brilliant."

Hermione perked up. She'd been not-so-secretly fretting over both her mother's quiet desire for her only daughter to have a wedding, and Molly's insistence that the two of them "get married properly, before the baby comes." She'd explained, to no avail, about the scant rules and laws that the Ministry had in place on the subject of magical creature matings: once the pair in question consummates their union, they are considered to be a couple, in every legal and moral way. A formal marriage ritual wasn't necessary.

It wasn't that she didn't like the idea of a wedding. She just didn't want a big hullabaloo and she had been afraid it would turn into one if Molly were able to start meddling. But, when she'd suggested that she and Bill just go to the Ministry and have Kingsley marry them with a quick ceremony, both Molly and her own mother had objected. Getting married alongside George and Angelina would solve all their problems.

She asked, "Really? You and George would be willing to share your wedding day with us?"

"Of course!" Angelina and George said together.

"Why not?" the older woman went on. "You and Bill can get married with us and avoid the whole big circus affair. Molly won't be able to complain - after all you will be getting married and it will be at a wedding that she planned—"

"She certainly did, right down to the last detail." George muttered. "She's even told me what kind of underpants I have to wear!"

Angelina elbowed him. "That's because she wants to be sure you actually wear some, dear."

George smirked. "Oh, I plan to. Wait until you see them, babe. Anyway, how does this sound: keep this a secret. Don't tell a soul between now and the wedding. We'll make sure your parents are there, Hermione. When the wedding warlock asks if anyone objects, you should both stand up and say that you object and will only let it go on if you can join in the we can all say our vows and snog each other senseless in front of our friends and families, and voilà, Hermione's mum and my mum and Bill's mum can't be upset!"

"Um, George, you and Bill have the same mum," Angelina pointed out.

"See? Even easier, then," said George, happily.

"Well, that's...just...perfect!" Hermione said, beaming. She squeezed Bill's hand. "It's a great idea. Thanks, you two. Really," she said, feeling a few sentimental tears well up in her eyes.

Angelina waved a hand. "Oh stop, Hermione. We know how you've wanted to keep everything simple. It'll be fun, and we love you."

With that decided, their decadent ice cream lunch came to an end. At his insistence, Bill paid the bill and everyone reluctantly left for their Friday afternoon work. George, Angelina, Ron and Lavender went back to Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes while Bill and Hermione headed back to Gringotts, holding hands in the rain and jumping over mud puddles along the way.

Gringotts Bank Research Library

Friday, late afternoon

Hermione paused in her perusal of a dusty volume on Anglo-Saxon burial customs in order to tie back her hair. Honestly, it had been unruly enough before pregnancy. Now, her hormones were making her hair grow faster, thicker, and even curlier than ever, and she was tired of it falling into her eyes. Maybe I'll get it cut short, she mused, but then shook her head. No. I wouldn't feel like me if I cut off all my hair. I'd feel like an important part of me was missing.

She glanced at the framed photo on her desk. It was a copy of the latest Weasley Family Christmas picture. She studied her own tiny image. She'd been standing next to Bill for this picture, and they'd had their arms wrapped around each other. Photo Bill kept smiling down at Photo Hermione and brushing her unruly hair back from her neck, then swooping in and nibbling at her throat. As she'd grown older and had honed her hair care spell-casting skills, she'd been able to make it behave itself. If left to its own devices, however, her hair's natural state was a big, curly, static-y bush. Watching her giggling, photographic self, Hermione smiled as her photo's hair bounced back, right into Photo Bill's questing face. Photo Bill sputtered and pulled away, smirking, and the loop began again.

She glanced at her watch. It was a quarter to five. Enough procrastinating. She set the picture down and gathered the book and her rune translations together. She'd found plenty of material for Bill, Athena, and the other Curse Breakers to start the interns on their early medieval cemetery exploration assignments. They'd be visiting Sutton Hoo in Suffolk and Spong Hill in Norfolk in the next few weeks, and the information she'd found would be of great benefit to them in analyzing the sites for remnants of magic. She stuck her wand in her robe pocket, picked up her research, and went to the conference rooms to find everyone.

"This is excellent, Hermione," Athena said as she and Bill sorted through the materials. She was a tall, pleasant witch in her fifties, with iron-grey hair and laugh lines on her face. She'd been Bill's mentor when he'd been a trainee, and now they worked as a solid teaching team. "Well done. You've been a breath of fresh air for that library and no mistake." She turned away to start divvying out papers to the novices. Hermione glowed with pride.

Theodore Nott approached her with a big smile on his face, his shirt unbuttoned several holes lower than it needed to be. His apprentice robes had been casually tossed over a chair. "You always were brilliant in Ancient Runes, Hermione," he praised, standing a bit too close with his hands on his hips. He seemed about to say something else and stretched a hand out toward her arm, but at that moment Bill appeared at her side and shoved the rune translation he was holding into Theo's hand.

"Go show that to Katie and Anthony," he prompted in a gruff voice that brooked no argument. "Hermione's done an excellent translation, now I want you three to solve the riddle." He waved his hand emphatically in the direction of "away". Theo nodded and slunk back to the table, shoulders slumped. Though he looked defeated, Katie seemed pleased.

Hermione bit her lip, trying to prevent a chuckle from escaping. Bill slipped his arms around her and gave her a quick but thorough kiss. He held her close, murmuring, "He's got to be the thickest male I have ever…"

"Oh, I've encountered a few who were thicker," remarked Hermione, hugging him tightly in return. "I'd like to go see the goblins and withdraw a few Galleons for the weekend, love. See you in a little while?"

"Yes, I'll be finished here soon. I'll meet you downstairs, sweetness." Bill gave her another promising smooch. "I have some plans for you on this rainy, blustery evening that I think you're going to highly enjoy." With a wink and a nuzzle of the bond mark on her neck, he let her go and turned back to the table.

A delicious shiver ran down her spine. Bill was such a naughty lover when the moon was full. Hermione left the conference room in a perfectly calm manner, but inside she was skipping with glee. She still felt like her life was caught in a whirlwind at times. Three months ago she'd been a swinging single with a strong crush on her ex-boyfriend's brother, and now, she was mated to said crush and expecting their first child, and would be marrying him in a month's time. Never mind being stalked by the embodiment of evil himself, Fenrir Greyback. It was enough to make one's head spin.

She slid her fingers idly over her bond mark as she made her way down the long marble stairway to the main floor of the bank. She eyeballed the queue, noted there were half a dozen people already in line, waiting to speak to a goblin bank teller. She sighed. Even as a bank employee, there was a protocol to follow when making withdrawals, and she didn't have the seniority that Bill did to be able to bend the rules. She looked toward the front entrance, where there were two bank guards on duty on either side of the door. Behind each of them, there was a floor-to-ceiling window that looked out onto Diagon Alley. It was still an hour before sunset, but with the storm it was quite dark outside. Some of the shops lining the street outside had turned on their illuminated signs, hoping to draw in a last few shoppers before closing up for the evening. With the rain still lashing down, the myriad water droplets on the glass made the night lights of the Alley twinkle and glow like rampant fireflies. It was pretty, but she was glad the bank had its own set of dedicated Floo fireplaces. She didn't want to have to go out in the cold and wet.

The line was moving rather slowly, and with the glacial pace and the sound of the unrelenting rain, Hermione began to realize she should have gone to the loo before getting in line. Drat, she thought. Come on now, Hermione, you can hold it. Think about hot, dry places. She sighed and shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, calling to mind images of the Sahara Desert in an attempt to put all thoughts of water out of her mind.

A thunderous CRASH resounded throughout the lobby, startling everyone and eliciting a few shrieks from patrons. Heads swiveled in every direction as people tried to pinpoint where the sound had come from.

"What was that?"

"Was that thunder?"

"It's not another dragon, is it?"

The question of the sound's origin was answered when the first gust of cold, wet, wind filled the room. Everyone looked to the entrance. One of the enormous windows was broken, and there were shards of glass and wooden framing scattered across the floor. Rain was blowing in through the great hole that remained, soaking the carpet and making the marble tiles slippery as ice.

A dark figure crouched in the middle of the detritus, its tattered cloak fluttering in the wind. It appeared to be a man, as he was shirtless and was very hairy. His trousers were nothing more than rags and he was barefoot. Two yellow eyes glared out of the hood that covered his head. Hermione felt a heavy ball of dread sink into her stomach as the figure slowly stood up and moved into the main part of the room, oblivious to the glass littering the floor. She slowly backed away toward the stairs.

"Oi! You! Where do you think you're going?" snapped the nearest of the two guards. He was unholstering his wand as he stepped forward, stretching out an arm to grab the intruder by the shoulder. As the man touched him, the stranger froze for a single heartbeat. Then, he swung around with his arm outstretched, his fingers curled into claws, and slashed at the guard's throat.

Bank patrons cried out as blood fountained up from the severed neck of the dead guard. His head lolled back, held onto his body only by the still-intact spine. The body shivered and shook in its death throes. The intruder, still cloaked, tipped his chin up and appeared to be drinking in the blood that sprayed over his body, even as he grasped his victim's arm and extracted the wand from the dead man's slackening grip. He let the body drop to the floor and casually turned around to face the other guard, who had gone white and was fumbling with his own wand holster as he stared in disbelief at the carnage. With the newly-acquired wand in his hand, the intruder growled the word, Incarcerous, binding the other guard in thick ropes. He stalked over to his new prisoner.

Hermione had made it to the foot of the stairs and stopped to see what was happening, just as a particularly strong gust of wind howled through the broken window and blew the hood of the murderer's cloak off his head, revealing his face.

It was Fenrir Greyback. Still in human form, but still deadly.

The guard opened his mouth at the sight of the werewolf and began to scream, but was abruptly cut off when Greyback grabbed him by the neck and bit into his throat, tearing a large hole in his flesh and puncturing the man's voice box. He dropped the dying guard, who was gushing blood across the already-gory floor, and turned around, his mad, yellow eyes rapidly scanning the crowd.

All of the goblins had either run away into the safety of the vaults or had ducked down behind their counter. The wizards and witches in the queue were screaming, crying, or shouting to one another, and two of the men were attempting to herd the others to safety behind the goblins' counter as well. The goblins were shouting at them and denying them entrance. An alarm began to sound throughout the building, its klaxon siren deafening.

No one seemed capable of sound reasoning. One wizard did attempt to Stupefy Greyback, but the werewolf easily cast a Shield Charm and deflected the spell, and then threw a Killing Curse at the wizard as casually as one might blow the fluff off of a dandelion.

As the wizard crumpled to the floor, Hermione recognized him. It was Ernie Macmillian, the stout-hearted, pure-blooded wizard who had been so supportive of Harry back in school, and who had been such a keen member of Dumbledore's Army. She gasped, a sob threatening to escape,and she clapped a hand over her mouth to hide the sound.

Too late. Greyback snapped his head around to meet her gaze, the whimper she'd let out capturing his full attention. His face was hideous, covered with blood, and his hair was matted with gore. His naked torso was covered with hair and scars. One shoulder showed the signs of a recently-healed wound, which must have been caused by Hagrid's crossbow bolt. His eyes narrowed, and he bared his bloodstained teeth as he stared at Hermione.

"At last I've found you, Grrrangerrrrr," he growled. "Delicious Mudblood. You're mine!"

He broke into a run, dropping down to all fours as he loped towards her but with the stolen wand still in one fist. Hermione screamed once, then saved her breath as she ran up the stairs as fast as she could.

Even if she could have physically Disapparated safely, she couldn't do so from inside the bank, as it was guarded with Anti-Disapparition Jinxes. There was no other physical exit from the building. Her only chance of a safe escape were the Floo fireplaces, which were on the second floor. She had to get there before the werewolf caught her. With one hand on the wide railing, she kept climbing, trying to ignore the panting growls that came from just below her on the stairs.

"I can smell your soft skin, ssssweeet girl, delicious Grrrannngerrr," Greyback was snarling and getting closer.

Bill, where are you? she screamed in her head, not daring to waste breath that she desperately needed for running. She hoped to God he was on his way down from the fourth floor. He had to have heard the alarm.

As she stumbled up the stairs, she yanked at her robe, plunging her hand into her pocket and tugging at her wand. Oh Merlin, it was tangled in the fabric! She let go of the railing in order to grab her robe and keep the billowing cloth still. She was finally able to extricate her wand, but she threw herself off-balance with the movement and she tripped on the stairs, falling upwards and landing on her knees and stomach on the cold marble steps.

"No!" she gasped. Her stomach had hit the steps hard and she could no longer breathe. The wind had been knocked out of her lungs. Hermione pushed herself hard against the wide stone balusters, trying to roll herself over and face her opponent before he reached her. Miracle of miracles, she'd kept hold of her wand.

She felt thick carpet under her fingers as she scrambled to right herself. She was one step shy of the second floor landing. Dear God, I'd almost made it, she thought, and then Greyback was on her.

Hermione screamed, bracing her fisted hands against the huge man's blood-streaked, hairy chest as he crawled up her body, forcing her down against the hard stone. His skin was fever-hot. He leered down at her, grinning with yellowed fangs. They were full of bits of human flesh. His breath was fetid and gusted over her face, making her gag.

He laughed, a maniacal sound that rang through her head. His arousal was evident, his erection pressing hard against her stomach as he ground his hips against her. She wanted to vomit but fought desperately to keep her body under control. She pushed at him with all of her might, fear giving her superhuman strength, but she couldn't budge him. If only she could free her hand enough to use her wand...

She was just barely keeping him at bay when the werewolf went stiff, his eyes and nostrils flaring wide. He strained forward, the cords in his neck rigid, but he couldn't quite reach her to bite her. He sucked in a deep breath and began sniffing the air between them. He must have smelled something he disliked, for suddenly he roared, and she cried out as he grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head to one side. The bond mark that Bill had given her was now bared to his gaze.

"No!" Greyback snarled. He tasted the air again, sniffing all around her head. "Weasley!" he growled. He pulled Hermione's hair so hard she felt clumps coming loose. She was crying with fear and pain. He was so close he was able to touch the tip of his tongue to the mark on her neck. She shrieked when he did so, pushing harder and wriggling to free herself. He reared back, staring at her with his lip curled. "A whelp? His pup?!" he bellowed, a great roar of sound as he rose up on his knees. His legs were clamped against either side of her thighs and pinning her down, and his broken, claw-like fingernails, bloody and wicked, glinted in the light. He dropped one hand to her belly, squeezing her painfully. "You are MINE!" He roared into her face as leaned over her.

"Never!" she screamed back. She shoved at him with all her might, bringing one knee up and hitting him in the bollocks. At the same time, she pulled her wand hand back and jabbed her wand full force into his left eye, pushing against it as hard as she could.

She felt a sickening pop. Greyback howled as blood, vitreous humor, and other goo from his ruined eye ran down her wand over her hand. He lunged backwards, clutching his face with his clawed hands, and fell down the entire flight, banging and crashing as he went.

Hermione scrambled to her feet and swayed back and forth, in danger of falling herself, but then Bill was there, hair flying and a roar on his lips, pulling her away from the treacherous first step with an arm wrapped around her waist. His own wand was drawn and he was shouting curses down the stairs, trying doggedly to hit the falling, rolling werewolf. Athena and the interns had come at the run too, and joined in the firefight.

Unfortunately, none of their curses hit their mark. Greyback hit the floor at the bottom of the stairs and slid, his body bloodied and his face coated with slime. He roared with pain. One arm was obviously broken, a bloody shaft of bone jutting out of a spurting gash on his forearm. He managed to right himself somehow, and running on three limbs, he made for the open window. When he reached it, still dodging the Stunning Spells and Full-Body Binds that were being cast at him, he jumped head-first through the broken portal and vanished, still howling, into the rainy night.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Author's Note: So. Is Fenrir Greyback simply a sad, lonely, misunderstood man? Or is he truly one mean, vile, disgusting son of a bitch? Let me know what you think, my loves.
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Twice in a Blue Moon