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"Woman" Series, HG/AW	By : Remarkable Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 45673 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I own nothing pertaining to the Harry Potter fandom and make no money from the publication of this fiction.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
None of my stories will ever be abandoned, even if I take a long ass time to update. You will not be disappointed with this chapter, I promise. Enjoy and review, please.

A Woman Reunited

Kingsley didn’t like the secretive smirk on Lucius Malfoy’s face as the aristocrat whisked down the corridor after he’d spied on Hermione’s departure that same day. In the Minister’s opinion, the man still wasn’t to be trusted. Even though the war was over and his name was technically in good standing, the man was still on the unofficial watch list of his own making. Harry had spoken to Kingsley if not a bit cryptically, about Hermione paying Harry a visit, and her tale about being in a spot of trouble. The tall, broad man smelled a snake, and where there was a snake, there was a Slytherin or two at the heart of it. Taking a mental note to have the elder Malfoy watched even more closely, he gathered up his robes and turned back up the stairs to his own department.

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Hermione felt lost. Her mind, normally so full of ideas and drive, had shut down in the wake of the Potion master’s possession of her person. The body was a funny thing, she mused, betraying her despite her best attempts at controlling it. Just maybe, because of her cerebral focus, she lacked the ability to control her more primal instincts. Although contrite in intention, she questioned her own motives in this fine pickle she’d gotten herself into. Involved with a married man? Secretly allowing her to be blackmailed by not one, but two Slytherins, one of which was a former professor, the other being a former enemy that had allowed her torture in his own home? Even by Hermione’s own standards this entire thing was ludicrous, by far.

The day was shot as she walked along a lake her work frequently took her to. The setting sun was a brilliant shade of oranges, gold’s, pinks, magentas and purple blending together, a symphony of color transcending her troubled state of mind. She felt very much at peace in the moment. A mother Hippogriff and her baby drank of the cool water on the opposite side of the lake. Their noses caused ripples to ride along the surface, lapping gently on the shore where pebbles interrupted the lapping march with congruent circles fading into the pale earth at Hermione’s feet.

Arms around her legs that were pulled up to her chest, chin resting on knees, Hermione’s eyes slowly closed while her mind calmed from the gentle cadence of nature lulling the troubled Gryffindor to sleep.

--

Tensions ran high within select offices of the Ministry over the course of the week. Hermione made herself scarce, taking any and every project that took her out into the field with the minimum of paperwork or extensive follow-up. She even went so far as to trade a few of her assignments with others that were all too happy to trade with her. No one asked questions when an assignment was upgraded from something grueling or nasty to pleasant and a short work day.

Arthur, being Hermione’s boss, noticed on the Thursday of that week that not only had he not seen Hermione all week, he’d had no less than three inquiries from Lucius Malfoy to send the little witch to his office at “her earliest convenience.” Such a request was highly unusual, coming from the patronizing blond, considering he usually had his own methods of contacting those he wished to converse with.

Giving the stack of papers marked “Urgent” one last look, Arthur cast a quick Tempus, pushing back his chair and straightening his robes. It was check in time for his employees. Normally, the laid-back wizard was hands-off in the daily goings-on of his employees when it came to their arrivals and departures at the Ministry. He kept track of their assignments of course, giving reviews, listening to concerns, assigning discipline or action as needed, but overall, his team was phenomenal. Arthur had built it from the ground up and he was very proud of their skill, contribution to the Ministry, and society in general.

Under the guise of doing a random check, Arthur placed himself next to the check-in door that logged the wand signature of each employee. There was no way to fudge one’s hours; they were automatically logged with an automatic transcript of the day’s events available with the touch of Arthur’s own wand on theirs, and a Recall spell Hermione had helped him devise. Even that one profitable spell had saved the Ministry hundreds of thousands of galleons in the six months it had been in use. Recognition was lacking, but the witch had received a handsome sum for her efforts.

One by one his employees trekked down the hall from the main Floo and Apparition points from the Ministry lobby and reception. Several had already checked in, completed their paperwork and gone, according to the glowing roster that changed as each person walked through the door. The minutes stretched on, the stream of employees slowing to a trickle until the only one left to check in was Hermione, minus one bloke still on paternity leave.

Arthur frowned, closing and warding the door after a full hour past check-in time had passed. He strode purposefully toward the Floos and shrugged past the remaining Ministry officials that attempted to converse with the man. Still in official robes, Arthur contacted a moody Molly who he rolled his eyes at after she’d terminated his connection mid-sentence.

“Bloody witches are going to be the death of me,” he breathed inwardly. With a sigh, he plucked his broom from his pocket, enlarged it and took off towards a certain young woman’s domicile.

--

“Go away!” came the screech from inside the small flat.

Arthur rested his forehead against the cool lacquered wood of her front door. “Hermione, it’s me. I’ve come to talk. That’s all. Please open the door.”

The tear-streaked witch wiped her snotty nose on the soaked, tatty linen and scrubbed her blotchy face with the forearms of her dirty robes.

“Coming! Give me a minute,” she called out with a slight waver to her voice.

Arthur was no stranger to female hormones. He wasn’t even concerned with being seen at Hermione’s place; after all, he had every right to check on an employee that hadn’t checked in after work. The fatherly wizard had done so before, and not for just those he was close to. It was more of issue that their personal relationship was starting to threaten his focus at work. What had started out as something fun and exciting, a relationship that met all of the needs that were neglected at home, was turning into a replica of that same situation.

He was about to knock again when the door opened. Hermione had made a valiant effort at cleaning herself up but she was obviously distraught beyond anything he’d seen lately.

“Hermione, what’s wrong?” he questioned, sweeping into the flat with his travelling cloak wrapping around her, his strong arms enfolding her in a loving, comforting embrace. The small witch clung to him like static, practically disappearing amongst the folds of fabric that made up his cloak. For long minutes she continued to sob as he stroked her hair and made shushing sounds. The low sounds of an Irish lullaby were crooned almost nonsensically but seemed to soothe Hermione more than his soft caresses and intermittent kisses on her crown had done.

Sobs gave way to whimpers, which turned into hiccoughing, and eventually, her breathing evened out. With a huge sigh, she pulled away from Arthur and met his gaze.

Large, dark circles ran rings around her eyes, the color almost reminiscent of a bruise.

“Have you slept at all this week, Hermione? What’s got you in a state?”

Arthur clasped both of her hands, covering her small ones with his calloused, larger ones with care.

“Not- not much,” she answered, sticking out her lower lip to blow the stray hair from her face.

Arthur reached out and tucked the errant curls behind one ear, searching gently for more answers.

“And……??”

The question hung there, pregnant, while Hermione seemed to deliberate inwardly. This worried him. She would only do such a thing if she were hiding something from him. Hermione was a terrible liar. No wonder she’d been avoiding him, and probably everyone else, all week! All it took was a good cry and the guilty shift of her eyes to alert him to off-key behavior.

Arthur stood up and deposited his cloak over the back of her sofa. “I’ll make us some tea, love, while you decide whether you are going to tell me what’s troubling you. No tall tales, just the truth.”

With a firm nod he strode confidently into her kitchenette, bustling about as if he’d lived there all his life. Her cupboards were much like most of her life, orderly and predictable, save the recent past, of course.

Hermione ducked into the bathroom to splash cold water onto her face. How was she going to tell him that Lucius Malfoy AND Severus Snape were blackmailing her? Would he recoil with disgust and horror when he found out her weak excuses for indiscretion? A sharp, barking laugh broke out when she realized how ludicrous that sounded, even to her. Here she was, cheating on a man that she was already privy to helping cheat on his own wife, a woman who had housed, helped to raise, and trusted her since her first year at Hogwarts. Not even Rita Skeeter could come up with a story as twisted as hers.

“Your cuppa’s ready, love, when you are,” Arthur called from the sofa.

She Scourgified her dirty, wrinkled state as she hadn’t yet changed from work. Her hair was still a mess, but presentable, and the tears scrubbed from her face. There was nothing she could do about the dark circles unless she got more sleep, unless she wanted to cast a glamour. Seeing as how he’d already seen them, she left her face as-is.

No words were spoken while they had biscuits and PG Tips, sipping quietly, a munch or dusting crumbs from a lap the only sounds to punctuate the stiff silence. Arthur looked up from over the rim of his mug every so often. He wasn’t going to leave until she told him what was bothering her, Molly’s tirades be damned. Hermione was his heart and he would care for her.

Almost in unison, their empty mugs and plates were set on the coffee table in front of them. Hermione held her hands folded in her lap, staring at a very interesting speck of biscuit on her carpet.

Strong, sure fingers gripped both of her shoulders and gently, but firmly, guided her round to face him. The knuckle of Arthur’s forefinger lifted her chin. Hermione closed her eyes.

“Open your eyes. I want you to look at me and tell me what’s bothering you.”

Her lower lip trembled. “I can’t, you’ll hate me,” she whispered, doing her damndest not to cry again.

“I could never hate you, love, you know that.” He kept his knuckle under her chin and ran his other thumb over the soft curve of her opposite cheek.

“Hermione, I love you. I thought we trusted one another. How can I know that you still feel the same if you won’t talk to me? Please confide in me. Let me be your anchor.”

That lower lip trembled even harder when she opened her eyes, fresh tears pooling in the corners.

“You’re going to hate me,” she repeated.

Arthur lent her a kind smile, cocking his head. “Try me. I think you’ll find I can be a pretty understanding fella if you will give me a chance, love.”

Hermione gathered her courage like a shield against the rest of the world. This was insane; the whole situation was insane. She was going to lose him. This was the end of her love affair with Arthur and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Like a freight train the words tumbled out, faster and faster, starting from the time Snape had fucked her in the woods until their current talk.

Arthur’s smile faded as he listened. The seriousness of his demeanor scared her. Not even Snape’s and Lucius’ threats could cow her the way his hands drew away, his hands bunching into fists which he pushed into the sofa cushion in a distracted, offhand display of anger.

When she was finished, the silence was once again palpable. Fresh tear tracks streaked down her face but went untouched by either party. Arthur’s gaze slid past her shoulder to a point on the far wall. His face was inscrutable. The young witch worried her lower lip in frenzy, practically able to see the wheels turning in her redheaded lover’s mind.

The tension reminded Hermione of her Potions Newt, stirring the thick concoction, holding her breath just before the final moment when it either turned out perfectly or blew up in her face.

Arthur inhaled deeply and held out his arms to her. “Come here, you silly witch,” he exhaled and was nearly bowled over with an armful of joyful Hermione.

“Whoa! Hold on there, love. I’ve got you. Arthur’s got you. Just hold on. If we work together, everything is going to be alright.”

She pulled back from his tight embrace, searching for answers. “I don’t know what I’m going to do! What do I tell Lucius? I can’t face Snape again, you know how he treated me the last time I went to confront him!”

Arthur’s normally gentle eyes hardened. “He practically raped you. Blackmail is the same as rape. If you wanted, Hermione, you could file a complaint with the Auror division. That sonofabitch would be put away so fast his head would spin.”

Hermione rapidly shook her head. “I can’t do that! I can’t let you lose your job!”

“Screw my job for a moment, love, and listen to yourself! You’ve already sacrificed too much at my expense and I won’t have the woman I love subjecting herself to mental and physical abuse for the sake of MY welfare! I’m a big boy, Hermione; I can take care of myself.”

“What about Lucius Malfoy?”

“What about him? Hermione, his hands are tied in more ways than one. The Minister’s got him by the balls and he knows it. He’s trying to manipulate you in ways I’m not even sure you imagine. Even if he gets his way, he’ll still cook up another way to screw with me and everyone else around him. That’s the way he is. Malfoy’s always been a cunning bastard. I just wish you’d come to me right away. I could have saved you from this anguish and self-castigation.”

Arthur scooted closer to her on the sofa and embraced her tenderly. “What would I do without you? Yes, I’ve got a lot riding on my position with supporting my family, career and marriage. Nothing in this world is an absolute. You, of all people, should know that nothing can or should be taken for granted. Look at all we lost in the Final Battle! Long before you were born, people like Lucius Malfoy were manipulating the government, the laws, and the lives of the common witch and wizard. Even if you play their game, there will always be another Malfoy, another game, another Dark Lord. The best way to beat Malfoy at his game is to stop playing. He can’t play the game if you refuse to cooperate, right?”

“But then-“

A finger on her lips stopped her from speaking.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of Lucius Malfoy, and if he follows through with his threats, then I’ll deal with the consequences, not you. I won’t have you suffer through any more, Hermione. I mean that.”

Arthur leaned in and kissed her lips softly, sweetly, molding the angle to fit with hers perfectly. His hands slid down to the curve of her bosom, tracing the outlines of breasts through her clothing.

Hermione shuddered slightly and sighed into his mouth, arms wrapped around his neck as she pulled him down on top of her, lying back so his larger frame was atop her own.

“Arthur, I love you, how I love you,” she chanted in between kisses.

It had been too long. Even a day without her sweetness seemed too long. Hermione had awakened his sexual drive and it had stayed strong, his body also leaner and stronger, even than it had been ten years prior. The younger witch had prompted Arthur to take better care of him so he could keep up with her ardor and passion. The fire raged hotly in his soul for the brilliant witch. He wanted her as he had no other, save for Molly in her younger days, before she’d changed……

Arthur kissed a trail of fire down her neck, pulling aside her collar to have access to as much flesh as he could get. His cock hardened painfully and its arousal was evident against Hermione’s thigh.

He pushed himself off of her to help Hermione hike up her robes. Their urgency for one another, to sate their need to reaffirm their relationship through physical union, made their actions all the more desperate and frenzied.

“Hurry Arthur, I need you so much! I need you inside of me,” she gasped, feeling his fingers pull aside the crotch of her knickers and sink into her willing heat.

“Yes, love, yes, that’s it,” he murmured, bending down to French kiss her as his fingers pumped in and out of her.

“Darling, you’re so wet for me. Oh gods, I want you so much, love, so much.”

He pulled out his juicy fingers and closed his eyes, tasting them. “You taste so good. Oh, I wish I had more time.”

Arthur helped Hermione out of her knickers and pushed aside his robes, unleashing himself to her bare crotch.

It was rather erotic, this baring of only the essentials to one another in their haste to make love.

Hermione helped move his cock along the slick junction, rocking her hips up and down so it ran over her clit and back down to her entrance several times, whimpering softly into his mouth, tongues dueling for possession of one another.

“Want you, want you,” he breathed hotly.

“Fuck me, Arthur. Please, hurry, do it now.”

Further encouragement was unnecessary. The elder Weasley slid his cock home, balls flush with her pink pussy lips. He gulped and panted against her mouth, holding himself steady so he didn’t blow his load prematurely.

“You feel so good love, give me a minute.”

She nodded mutely while his head hung, tilted to the side as he adjusted to her tight clutch pulsing wetly around his member.

When he started to move inside her he did so slowly at first, pulling out so only the head of his penis hung precariously at her entrance before sliding back in to the hilt. He wanted her to feel every inch of him, as he wanted to feel every inch of her slide over him. This was reclamation of what he considered to be HIS. If there was any doubt as to how he felt about this young witch, or her place in his future, it was gone after tonight. No other man would ever put himself inside of her if it cost him his very last breath to ensure she remained his alone.

“So tight, love, oh my god!”

It was almost as if they were making love for the first time, his long limbs hanging off the couch as he twisted them around, now kneeling on the rug with her sweetness at waist level to him. Arthur lifted her legs over his arms and thrust himself into her harder, more deeply, lightly hitting her cervix with his length and girth, pleasuring her tight pussy immensely.

Hermione’s soft cries made him impossibly hard, spurring him on as he concentrated on lasting for her. Arthur knew he could go at any time. It was only the years of self-control that held his orgasm in check.

“That’s right, love, I want to feel you come apart around me. You’re so beautiful! You are everything to me love; let me feel you come for me. I love you so much!”

Hermione’s cries got louder, her voice cracking as it shot an octave higher when Arthur hit that special place inside her pussy. Keeping the angle true, he plunged into her sucking sweetness, using her legs as leverage to pull her into every thrust.

“Oh, fuck, Hermione, you feel so good. That’s right baby, come for me, my sweet girl!”

Calling on his reserves after his long day and emotional roller coaster with Hermione, Arthur propelled his hips to pound into her, a light shriek emitting from her lovely lips as her body stiffened, cunt tightening impossibly so around his cock. Teeth grit in concentration, he kept fucking her through it, knowing it was also intense and pleasurable for her as he did so.

Her hot juices and cream melted like butter around his plunging shaft. The backs of Arthur’s robes were soaked with sweat, his red hair dark as it plastered wetly to his face. Rivulets of come dripped from where they were joined onto the sofa cushion and floor.

As the woman under him relaxed slightly Arthur finally let himself go, letting her legs drop as he rose over her limp form and caught her mouth in a hot, open-mouthed kiss, his instinctual drive taking over as he pounded her pussy for all he was worth.

Arthur was a big man, and with his weight behind such fierce thrusting, it was a good thing Hermione had the sofa cushions to break the impact or she’d have been black and blue the following day, if they’d made love on the floor instead.

The wet slapping was loud and fast, nothing romantic or sensual about the finality of their coupling as he drove into her with a single-minded desire to fill her with his sperm.

This wasn’t just about making up, or making love; it was about his claiming her in the most animalistic way possible as his own.

Chest heaving, the Head of the Department for Magical Creatures cried out as his balls drew up tightly and he pushed himself as far inside of Hermione as was physically possible, hips jerking erratically while the force of his orgasm burned through his shaft, fiery pulses of pleasure inducing Arthur into an intense high that blocked out all other sight and sound momentarily.

At last, he’d emptied the final bit of come inside of Hermione’s luscious young body and he fell, spent, almost catatonic, against her while his cock slipped out, hanging limp and sated against his skin.

Hermione adjusted her position slightly so she lay sideways on the sofa, her fingers pushing the wet strands of his hair back, mopping at his brow with the edge of her work robes.

“Are you okay?” she asked quietly.

After a minute he responded, nodding, not quite having gotten his breath back to a speaking state.

His head rested finally against her soft bosom, and he quietly thanked the goddess for the love of this beautiful, intelligent, and passionate young woman.

For long minutes, then, he kissed her, both still exposed while their emissions dried and the scent of sex hung in the air, a perfume unique to their spent passions.

“I have to go home. I- I’ve been gone too long already, but I had to make sure you were alright.”

Hermione nodded, chewing on her lip while they straightened themselves out. She didn’t bother to Scourgify herself. She wanted to remember him for a while, physically, after he’d gone. A shower would erase that and she wanted to feel his release inside of her for a time.

With conviction, he rose and took her hands in his own, looking down at her, fingertips joined.

“I meant what I said. Don’t worry about Malfoy. He’s not your problem anymore. If he or anyone else harasses you, tell me immediately. You are everything to me. Please don’t take any more on yourself, Hermione. It’s not worth it. I love you. Please take care, for me?”

“I promise, Arthur. I will do my best to stay clear of him and Snape and just lay low.”

Arthur nodded, seemingly satisfied with her answer.

With a final kiss he straightened and let himself out, pausing to flash a familiar, loving smile before he disappeared with a click of the door shutting behind him.

For a few hours Hermione simply sat and pondered her next move. She would respect Arthur’s wishes and stay clear of danger, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t help dispel the threat Malfoy posed to her lover and untold others.

With a wicked grin, she set about cleaning herself up for bed and the next work day. Hermione had work to do.
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"Woman" Series, HG/AW