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Time's Up	By : Gotbooks00 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Blaise Views: 23286 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: I own many things, but not any recognizable characters, things, or places in the Harry Potter series. Somehow, I doubt that JKR would agree to joint custody…shame, that. Also, no profit is being made from the writing or posti

Chapter List
- 1-Time's Up
- 2-TWO
- 3-THREE
- 4-FOUR
- 5-FIVE
- 6-SIX
- 7-SEVEN
- 8-EIGHT
- 9-NINE
- 10-TEN
- 11-ELEVEN
- 12-TWELVE
- 13-THIRTEEN
- 14-FOURTEEN
- 15-FIFTEEN
- 16-SIXTEEN
- 17-SEVENTEEN
- 18-EIGHTEEN
- 19-NINETEEN
- 20-TWENTY
- 21-TWENTY ONE
- 22-TWENTY TWO
- 23-TWENTY THREE
- 24-TWENTY FOUR
- 25-TWENTY FIVE
- 13
- 14
- 15
Time’s Up, by Gotbooks93

Summary: After successfully hiding the existence of her son for eight years, Hermione is out of luck and out of time. When the father of her child discovers her secret, their quiet worlds are changed forever. Will things become better, or worse? Join Hermione and Xander as they find out.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

For a moment, Hermione considered slamming the door in his face.

This thought apparently showed in her expression, as Blaise placed his bare foot against the door jamb before she could move a muscle.

After a long pause on her part, Hermione sighed. “You have five minutes. Come in.” Turning around, she settled onto the outside sofa that was on the balcony. She didn’t bother to flip on the outside light, preferring the light spilling out from her bedroom. She knew from experience that ‘talks’ with Blaise were easier to manage if he couldn’t see her face clearly.

Hermione kept her gaze forward, even as she felt Blaise settle onto the sofa next to her. Her eyes wandered over the incredible view: the vast, dark spread of the ocean, lights blinking in the distance as ships made their nighttime voyages. Despite the fact that the sun had set several hours ago, the air was still warm. However, she could feel Blaise’s body heat as he sat next to her; she shivered.

The silence stretched on, the only noise the drone of the cicadas in the surrounding trees. After a moment, Blaise cleared his throat.

“I’m going to get right to the point.” He began. “As far as I can tell, your mood turned sour directly before we left England, although I can’t seem to find a reason as to why. Now, we can both beat around the bush and let the problem continue, or we can deal with it like rational adults. What’s it going to be?”

“I don’t see what you mean by ‘problem’” Sniped Hermione mulishly. “Don’t worry, Blaise, you’ve straightened me right out; if you want to be with other women, I won’t be the one to stop you.”

“Other women?” he asked, shocked. “Where did you get the idea that I want to see other women?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe the way you were gawking at that woman’s breasts at the Department of Transport?” said Hermione sarcastically. By the time she had finished her sentence, she felt the slow tightening of her throat, a sure sign of tears. Taking a deep breath, she strove to fight off the emotional response.

“What are you even talking ab- wait, are you talking about the woman next to you with the baby?” He asked, his voice tinged with incredulity.

“Yes, the woman with the baby.” Said Hermione, her tone scornful. “You certainly took enough time ogling at her breasts! You know they’re only that big because she was breast feeding!” She felt foolish at her blatantly jealous tone, and took another deep breath.

“Yes, Hermione, I was looking at her body-” Blaise began, his tone starting to heat.

“I knew it!” Hermione exclaimed, springing from her seat like it was aflame. “Look Blaise, I obviously misinterpreted your intentions when it comes to…us… and I won’t get in the way of you doing things with other women, but I can’t keep doing this. I-”

A second later, Blaise had reached out and grabbed her hands in his own, pulling her back onto the couch.

“Hermione! You will sit down and listen to what I have to say, or so help me I find another way to shut you up.” The anger in his tone shocked her back into the present, and Blaise took advantage of the resulting silence. “As I was saying, I was only looking at that woman’s body because it reminded me what I missed out on.”

“I- I- what?” asked Hermione, her eyes brimming with tears.

Blaise huffed an angry, irritated breath. “Look, I didn’t use to pay much attention to pregnant women, or ones who have recently had babies. But ever since I found out about Alexander, I have this- this- need to imagine you at that time. I don’t have any way of knowing what you looked like after your body brought him into the world, or what you looked like when you cradled a newborn baby. I don’t know what you looked like when you carried our son inside you. I don’t have any memories of you feeding him, or changing him, or playing with him. You’ve worked off all the curves that come with being a new mother, but Hermione I want to know. So I look at other women when I see them with a baby, but not for any lascivious reasons. I don’t see their face, I see yours.” By the time he had finished his explanation, his voice had gentled, his tone pleading with her to understand. Both Blaise and Hermione wore expressions of deep emotion, and Hermione’s tears had begun to trickle down her face.

“Blaise I’m so sorry.” Whispered Hermione, tentatively scooting towards him on the sofa. “I don’t know why I’m so jealous. I just- I suppose I’m just not sure where we stand in our…relationship...and it unleashed the jealous harpy in me. Merlin, I don’t remember ever being this horrid when we were teenagers.” She laughed a little at that, carelessly swiping her nose on her hand.

“Tu sciocco, cara ragazza,” murmured Blaise, tugging her into his embrace. “You silly, darling girl. Why would you think I truly ever see any woman but you?” Seeing Hermione’s mouth open in protest, he continued. “But I am not without fault. I should have stated my intentions from the beginning, and saved you all this worry. My only defense is that it was so… so easy for me to fall back into our relationship, just like when we were young, that I didn’t consider you felt any different. But I will fix this, here and now.”

Leaning back so he could see her tear- stained face, Blaise spoke with a surety that left her no doubts. “Hermione, I adore you, and only you. Your wit, your poise, and your beauty have all left me without defense. You have given me life’s greatest gift through a child- although I am sure I would love ou even if Alexander was not a part of our lives. Either way, I intend to court you, and you alone.” He then paused, his face twisting into one of mild displeasure. “I would ask you to be my girlfriend, but the term seems so…”

“Juvenile?” suggested Hermione, feeling the same way.

“Exactly.” He agreed. “But no matter what it is we call this, I intend to be with you exclusively, if you will have me.”

Hermione nodded, but something nagged at the back of her mind. “Blaise, I really, truly want to be with you. But all those years we were apart, I was always seeing you in the paper and magazines with some dazzling woman on your arm. Didn’t any of them find a place in your heart? I mean, Blaise, eight years is a long time to be alone.”

“Looking back, I can say without doubt what I shared with those women was empty. Spending time with you and Xander makes me happier than any of them ever could, Hermione. I won’t lie- I’m a man, and a human one at that. I’m not perfect. But the only woman I will have my eyes on is you.”

Normally, Hermione would swear this was too good to be true. His words were something out of Luna’s romance novels, or from the script of a romantic play. But the truth that shone out of his eyes was enough to convince her. “You can expect the same monogamy from me, then. I only ask one thing.”

“What’s that?” he inquired as he pulled her against his side.

“I want to break the news that we’re together to Xander gently. Every parenting book I’ve ever read says that some children have trouble adjusting from one parent to two. I know he’s taken your role in his life very well, but I don’t want him to feel like he’s losing either of us to this relationship. I mean, he’s only eight. Still a little boy.”

“Fair enough.” Blaise agreed. “We’ll clue him in slowly. Is there anything else you want to talk about?”

“No, why?” asked Hermione, puzzled.

“Because I intend to have your lips otherwise occupied for the rest of the night.” Said Blaise confidently as he tiled his head towards hers.

The moment their lips met, Hermione gasped. Before, Hermione could always feel the raw desire that dwelled within her lover, strong and steady. This time, though, there was a deeper connection between them. As his lips brushed along hers, she could almost taste the words I love you. After a moment, Hermione pressed her lips more firmly against his, wanting to feel his strong, reassuring body against hers. Before, their kisses tended to either burn with an animalistic passion, or be the long, lazy kiss of people who had all the time in the world.

This kiss was different. They were using their mouths to find more than physical pleasure- they were using the kiss as a new way to express their adoration. Blaise normally controlled their more…amorous…moments, but this time both were equal participants. Blaise eased her into his lap, and Hermione couldn’t stop herself from pressing their bodies together, wanting to feel his heart beat with hers.

Blaise was the first to break their kiss for once, panting for air. Hermione, undeterred, kissed and nipped the skin of his throat, slowly working her way down his body. She gave a sharp nip to the sensitive skin right above his collar bone, and then laved it with her tongue.

As she sucked the section of skin into her mouth, pulling lightly, she registered her intentions. She hoped to leave her mark on this beautiful, intelligent man, and inwardly sighed. It seemed that Blaise brought out the best and worst in her- especially her possessive side.

“Fuck, Hermione.” Blaise breathed as she continued to suckle the flesh. She swelled with feminine pride at the moan.

Drawing back, Hermione took in Blaise’s nighttime attire for the first time. Clothed in a dark, cotton v- neck t-shirt, his well- formed physique was easily seen through the thin fabric. His bottoms also displayed certain pleasing parts of his anatomy.

With long, thin stripes of silver and dark blue, the fabric of Blaise’s cotton drawstring pants did little to hide his prominent erection. It jutted firmly against the underside of her thighs, and Blaise had begun to softly rock against her, his head thrown back in pleasure. Pale moonlight lit one side of his strong features, with the warm glow of the bedroom’s light poured over the other side.

Hermione emitted a little whimper at the sight, taking in the long, tanned lines of his exposed neck.

Watching her beautiful Italian lover, Hermione’s arousal flared even more brightly. She twisted her body so that her legs straddled his, her indigo nightie sliding up her thighs. The new position had her moaning in pleasure as it aligned their neediest parts, the tip of his engorged member rubbing against the apex of her thighs. Even through the fabric of his pants and her silk panties, Hermione could vaguely feel the hard ridges of his cock.

“Oh! Blaise you feel so good.” Hermione gasped, rocking against him more urgently.

“Hermione, I can feel your heat on me through the fabric.” Blaise replied, his gold eyes darkened with lust. He whispered dirty words in her ear, igniting her lust even more than before. “Do you like the feel of me, baby? Does the idea of what I can do to you make you wet? I bet you’re soaked for me, aren’t you?”

Impatient, Hermione grabbed the hem of Blaise’s night shirt, tugging it up his body. The motion jolted him from is lust- induced haze, and he quickly lifted his arms to help. As soon as the shirt was tossed onto the balcony’s railing, Hermione’s mouth latched onto Blaise’s flat nipple, gently biting the sensitive nub. Her long, curly hair dragged along the panes of his chest, tickling down over his abs.

This sensation had Blaise’s hands flying to her hips, and he pulled her body harder against him. The movement dislodged Hermione’s mouth from his nipple, and Blaise quickly re-joined their lips. His eyes were squeezed shut tightly, and he looked as if he were trying to pour all his love into her.

Hermione could feel his hips continue to rock against hers, and denied him no longer. As she pulled her mouth from his, she hushed him when he let out a little cry of displeasure.

“Trust me, darling, I’ve got something better in mind.” She purred into his ear. Her voice had gone husky, and she fought the self- conscious urge to clear her throat.

Slipping off his lap, Hermione knelt on the smooth stone of the balcony, placing her hands on his parted knees. Reaching up towards the tie of his drawstring, Blaise caught her hands in his.

“Sweetheart, please, you don’t have to do this.” He said, his hands shaking a little. But his grip was firm, and Hermione knew he would gracefully accept her decision, no matter what it was.

Despite his attempt to stop her, Hermione tugged her hands from his. She moved one over the bulge of his penis, and it twitched noticeably when she lightly ran her fingernails over the fabric. “Blaise, I already know I don’t have to do this.” She said. “I want to.”

With that, her other hand firmly tugged the tie to his pants, opening the front. Blaise, apparently having decided that day was a good time to go commando, sprang directly upwards, out of the fabric prison of his pants. Hermione took a moment to admire the long, thick appendage. It was swelled to it’s largest size, and pre- cum leaked out of the purple head.

Their history together proved useful, reminding her Blaise had little patience for licks and kisses on his member when her mouth was close by. She took him directly between her lips, slowly adding inches into her mouth in an effort to strive off her gag reflex.

When he was fully seated in her mouth, Hermione began a soft sucking motion as pulled and pushed her lips over his length. Above her, Blaise spewed an incoherent stream of bilingual praise.

“Yes, Hermione, yes. That’s so right, baby. Oh, Merlin, you’re so damn good at this. Continuare a fare questo, anima mia, si. Yes, pet, please. I’m so close.”

His words of encouragement made Hermione wetter than ever before. The fingers of her left hand slid down her body before sliding past the elastic waistband of her panties. She began to rub her clit with her thumb, timing it along with her sucks on Blaise’s hardened cock. One finger, then two entered her, pumping with well- practiced ease. The feeling in her abdomen coiled ever- tighter, and she began to move against her hand in earnest.

Meanwhile, Blaise began to shallowly thrust into her mouth, and she could tell he was getting close. Feeling his long fingers in her hair, trying to draw her mouth off of him as he got closer to climax, Hermione lightly pushed his hand away with her unoccupied fingers. Withdrawing his cock from her mouth for a moment, she spoke.

“Blaise, baby, I want you to come in my mouth, please. Won’t you fill my mouth with your seed?” She spoke sweetly, and Blaise’s grip on her hair tightened. However, this time he pulled her mouth back over his manhood, trusting back in roughly in his passion. Hermione’s moth and fingers worked faster than ever in an effort to bring them both to completion.

Then, without warning, Blaise’s cum shot into her mouth and down her throat, and he moaned her name loudly as he came. She swallowed quickly, taking down the salty, creamy substance down her throat. Despite this, the liquid trailed in a thin stream out of the side of her mouth. Several moments later, Blaise came down from his orgasm, slumping a little against the sofa. Taking his now- soft member from her mouth, Hermione gently licked the silky skin of his shaft clean before tucking him back into his pants.

Opening his eyes, Blaise was just in time to see Hermione swipe up the cum on her cheek with one finger before she sucked it into her mouth. Blaise moaned at the erotic sight, before searching for her other hand.

Sitting up, he spotted her fingers, which were still tucked into the waistband of her panties. Hermione, seeing where his gaze had landed, blushed scarlet even as she shifted needily.

“Hmm, did you think I was going to leave you wanting, tesoro?” He cooed down at her, lifting her back onto his lap. “It looks like you were already taking care of it yourself, you dirty girl.” He murmured into her ear.

Hermione let out a little whimper as he pulled her limp wrist out from under her night gown. He gently sucked on each finger, cleaning her juices from the tips. “Should I take care of you, my pretty girl?” He purred. “Do you want me to make you scream my name, out here where anyone could hear you?”

“Yes, please Blaise, please!” Hermione cried softly.

Blaise felt her body shaking slightly in his hold, and her skin was hot to the touch. The woman in his arms was a live wire, ready to come apart at the seams. He shifted Hermione sideways on his lap, spreading her legs with one hand. Her face tucked into the curve of his neck, and he felt her soft, warm puffs of breath against his skin.

Sliding his fingers up her leg, Blaise treasured the soft, warm feel of her skin. He had dreamed about that texture while he was globe- trotting, and now sought to re- memore the feel. Blaise dragged the hem of her nightie along with his hand, and lifted it over her head. She weakly raised her arms to help, and he drank in the sight of her nearly- bare body in the warm glow of the lamplight.

She had changed a little over the years, which was to be expected. Her breasts were fuller, and her stomach was softer than it had been when they were teenagers. The small amount of added weight was far from off- putting for him, though. While Hermione had the lean, sculpted body of youth as a teen, she now had the soft curves of a woman- the tuck of her waist and the bow of her hip fit his hand perfectly as he held them, seemingly made for him to hold. Hermione was still very fit for a mother nearing her thirties, and Blaise felt a swell of pride. His woman was beautiful.

In the dim light, Blaise traced the silvery scars that lined parts of her stomach, the battle scars that came from carrying a child. One of his hands dragged over the scars reverently, as the other cupped her right breast; it was warm and heavy in his hand, filling it perfectly. As his thumb tweaked over her nipple, Hermione made a low, keening sound in her throat.

“Please, Blaise, please.” She begged into his neck, arching her back a little. “Quit teasing, I can’t take it!”

Chucking lowly, Blaise discontinued his exploration of her body and slid one rough- fingered hand into her underwear. His thumb immediately began playing with her clitoris, rubbing the nub in a quick, circular motion he knew would drive her wild. As his lips descended on her left breast, gently kissing the swelled flesh, a finger entered her tight channel, followed by two more. They stretched her, and the tiny prick of pain had Hermione crying out in ecstasy. As his fingers stroked her inside, his other hand pinched her nipple; Hermione let out small mewing sound that drove Blaise wild.

While his hands and mouth played her like an instrument, Blaise watched for the little tell signs that would signify her impending climax. Seeing several, he sped up the thrusting of his fingers, tearing a half- sob, half scream from Hermione’s throat. A moment later, Hermione’s back arches as she came, moaning Blaise’s name like it was a prayer.

After giving her a few minutes to recover, Blaise hoisted Hermione’s boneless body into his arms. Collecting her clothing and his t-shirt from the railing of the balcony. He settled her into the bed in her room, and re- dressed her in her night gown. She lay back on the crisp white sheets, and he admired her dark, curly hair as it spread across her pillow.

Climbing into the bed behind her, Blaise settled his arm over her waist, drawing her back against his chest. She snuggled into his embrace, already half asleep. “Blaise?” she whispered sleepily.

“Yes, Hermione?” he asked, settling in for the night.

“Thank you.” She whispered. “Sleep well.”

“You too, cara.” He replied, kissing the back of her hair.

Before long, both inhabitants of the bed succumbed to sleep, their drowsy breathing joining the lazy drone of the cicadas in the trees.

~(o)~

“Alexander, don’t make me repeat myself!” Blaise called to his son, who was swimming around in the sea water. “I don’t want you going out that far if no one is with you.”

“Someone would be with me if you and Mother came and swam!” The boy called back, reluctantly wading towards the shallower water. His mood instantly brightened when he discovered the fun of body- surfing in the waves. Blaise smiled, remembering doing the exact same thing when he was a boy.

“Thanks.” Said Hermione from the towel beside him. “I know I worry too much, but it’s better safe than sorry.” After accepting a brief kiss from Blaise, she turned back to her book on ECES. Much of the information was both helpful and interesting; Hermione wished she had discovered the book years ago- it would have made raising Xander a lot easier.

Although Hermione’s eyes had returned to the pages of her book, her mind had drifted elsewhere. Early that morning, Xander had burst into her room, only to discover both of his parents, both still groggy from sleep. For a long second, the three of them had simply watched each other, barely breathing.

Then, in a moment of maturity that made Hermione want to beam with pride, Xander had nodded slowly, obviously still thinking over the situation. After all, it wasn’t every day that he found his father and mother in the same bed, and it took a little while for the idea to sink in.

“Does this mean you guys love each other?” asked the boy. “Because that’s what they told us in school. When two people sleep in the same bed, it means they love each other, although they’re usually supposed to be married.”

After a quick glance between them, they both nodded. “Your father and I are going to be together now, Xander. Is that okay with you?” Hermione asked cautiously. Mentally, she was much less composed. ‘So much for breaking it to him gently.’ She thought dazedly.

“Yeah, I think that’s all right.” Replied their son after some thought. “Even if you’re not married.”

Hermione suppressed laughter. The simplistic, fairy- tale way her son saw love was a little funny.

“Was there something you wanted to say, Alexander?” asked Blaise cautiously, still shocked at their eight- year- old’s acceptance.

“Oh, yeah.” The boy agreed. “Mother, when are we going to the beach? The sun is even up, and Rosa says breakfast is ready. At least, I think that’s what she said.”

“We’ll be down in a moment, darling.” Said Hermione, smiling.

After one last glance at his parents, Xander turned on his heel and headed downstairs, leaving the bedroom door wide open.

“Well, that went better than I thought it would.” Whispered Blaise, careful not to let his words carry towards young ears.

“It probably wouldn’t have gone as well if we didn’t re- dress last night.” Hermione whispered back. “I think that might have scarred him for life.”

Blaise nodded in agreement. “Wouldn’t want that. So, where do we go from here?”

“I guess we should just take things slow. Short kisses, hugs, that sort of thing. Even if we do have his- his approval, he’s probably still processing. So…yeah, take things slow.” Hermione mused. “I need to take a shower. Go eat breakfast with him like nothing is weird. We probably shouldn’t let him stew over this for too long.”

“Well I need to take a shower, too.” said Blaise. “You go down there and face our son.”

“No, you.” Hermione insisted in a sotto voice.

“You.” Shot back Blaise.

What followed was a rather intense argument over who got to shower, and who had to face Xadner. It was, of course, entirely done in whisper- yells, and had a lot of excessive hand gestures. In the end, Blaise was grudgingly sent downstairs while Hermione dashed into the bathroom.

An hour later, Xander stood at the back door, anxiously hopping from foot to foot. Clothed in swim trunks and carrying a bucket of plastic beach toys, his eagerness had both parents scrambling after him on the white sand of the Zabini’s private stretch of beach. both

“Mother, I’m hungry.” Said Xander, jogging Hermione’s mind back to the present. He stood over her, dripping drops of cool sea water on her sun- warmed skin.

“Xander, you’re dripping on me!” said Hermione leaning away from him on her towel. With a sudden, wicked smile, Xander began to shake his whole body, splattering her with ocean water. He even shook his dark, wet hair, his motions not unlike that of a dog.

Laughing along with her son, Hermione squealed for him to stop. A second or two later, he did, grinning impishly. “Sorry, Mother. You looked a little too warm, so I decided to cool you off.”

Huffing, Hermione tugged her son down on her towel with her. She reached behind her, dragging a large basket next to them. “Let’s see what Rosa packed us for lunch, hmm?”

She withdrew several items from the picnic basket, and handed them to Xander. He spread them out on the towel, peeking inside the wax paper to see what yummy Italian treats were inside.

Blaise, setting his own book aside, began to unwrap the food, naming the dishes foods as he went. “Sicilian bruschetta on home-made bread, potato salad with Italian sausage, eggplant caponata, and fruit tart. Not bad for a picnic lunch, if you ask me.”

Hermione finished unpacking the drinks, eating utensils, and- she snorted- hand embroidered, linen napkins. The three quickly dug into the undeniably Italian lunch, savoring the rich tastes; a far cry from England’s hearty, but sometimes bland fare.

As Blaise doled out the fruit tart, putting globs of whipped cream on top, he casually said, “I thought we might go meet my family tomorrow. They live a few towns over, but we could definitely apparate there without any trouble.”

Hermione’s frowned. “Your family? I thought your mother was an only child?” she asked.

“She is, but my maternal grandfather had several siblings, and they all had children of their own. I’ve only met my cousins a few times, but they’re decent company. Besides, they’ve all expressed the desire to meet Alexander. If I remember correctly, some of them have children near his age.”

Hermione swallowed the automatic urge to reject the idea. “I suppose that might be nice.”

“I’ll owl them in a bit then, to say that we’re coming. Remind me to look up a translation spell later, so you two can understand some of what they’re saying.”

Apparently having grown tired with the conversation, Xander padded his way closer to the water and began to start a sand castle in the damp sand. Unlike other children, Hermione saw him scribbling out dimensions and volume conversions off to the side, planning out the structure before he began. She vaguely wondered what it would be like to have a ‘normal’ child, but quickly dismissed the idea. He may not fit the mold of his peers, but he fit her just fine.

“I was thinking you and I could go out tonight.” Murmured Blaise from beside her. “Alexander is going to be worn out from his day in the waves, and I know there’s a rather popular little pub in the muggle town further along the beach.” He gestured to their left, where Hermione could just make out the shape of tiny homes perched above the sea. “They have dancing and good food. What do you say?”

Hermione contemplated the offer briefly before agreeing. “What the heck- I’m on vacation. We can leave after Xander falls asleep, okay?” Blaise nodded, and began packing the remnants of their lunch back into the picnic basket.

“I noticed earlier that Xander has a scar along the left side of his rib cage.” Blaise mentioned. “Where’d he get that?”

“Let’s see,” Hermione mused. “I suppose that one would come from his broomstick accident last spring. He and Teddy Lupin thought it would be a brilliant idea to take one of the old pair of Cleansweep Six’s out of the Weasleys shed. Anyway, those things are positively ancient- made in the 60’s, I think- so they’re hardly reliable anymore.”

Hermione paused, letting out a breath that was half amusement, half exasperation. “So after they’d been flying got a bit, Teddy’s boom started slowly inching higher and higher, and they can’t get it to come back down. Xander gets right underneath him, and they somehow manage to both get onto his broom. Mind you, they’re both barely seven at this point, so they’re quite proud of this, but the added weight eventually had them dive- bombing into the Weasley’s orchard, and get stuck in an apple tree. They both got scratched up pretty badly, and by the time Molly managed to un-tangled them from the tree’s limbs, Xander’s scratch on the side of his chest had already healed itself. Accidental magic, I suppose. It healed fine, but it left a scar. I offered to take him to Mungo’s to get it removed, but Teddy kept telling him ‘birds dig scars, mate’-I’m pretty sure he got that phrase from Harry- so Xander insisted he keep it. Stupid, but harmless enough I suppose.”

Blaise was chuckling heartily by the time she finished her recounting of the event. “For some reason, I get the feeling Teddy Lupin is the cause behind a great number of Alexander’s harebrained adventures.”

“Oh, don’t even get me started.” Laughed Hermione. “One time, the boys decided they were going to try and de- gnome the Weasley’s garden, once and for all. So they snuck into Fred and George’s old room, and…” Hermione continued to tell Blaise of Xander’s more wild stunts, including the time they had stolen all of Fleur’s beauty potions to try on the Potter’s cat.

There was also the plot to invent a never- ending ice cream cone, and the time they scaled half- way up the side of the Hogwarts main greenhouse before Neville discovered their ‘inappropriate use of Devil’s snare’. There was the proposal to run away and live in Godrick’s Hollow, and the practice of slipping various Weasley’s Wizard Weezes potions into Seamus’ date’s drinks.

As Hermione spoke, she couldn’t help but notice how many of the incidents ended in the boys lying in the Hogwart’s Hospital Wing, or with Hermione casting several healing charms on them before they could move without pain. True, very few of the incidents resulted in any scars, but the sheer number of medical spells was a little staggering. Perhaps it was time she sat the two boys down and really talked to them about the risks of their schemes, instead of just grounding them like she normally did.

Before long, Xander interrupted the story- telling session. “Father, come see my sandcastle!” He shouted, and Hermione smiled as she looked at the symmetrical sides of the sand structure. Blaise heaved himself to his feet, ambling over to the sandcastle. Hermione quickly reached into her bag and pulled out a wizarding camera, which she had borrowed from Luna before they left England.

After taking a snapshot of the scene, which showed Blaise and Xander digging in the sand, creating a moat, she stowed away the camera. Picking up her book again, she lay back on her towel and relaxed in the hot Italian sun.

‘Now this,’ she thought, ‘is a vacation.’

~(o)~

When Blaise apparated them into the side alley in the town, Hermione gasped. Across from the alley, lit up in hundreds of electric bulbs, was a sign that read “Notte Stella Osteria”. The extravagant sign seemed a bit out of place in the otherwise quiet street, but the sounds of laughter, music, and conversation drifted out the open doors, providing a welcoming feel. Blaise, dressed in dark wash jeans and a tight- fitting muscle t, strolled ahead of her. She was dressed in a well- fitted black dress, paired with silver bangles that clinked lightly around her wrists. Her heels, several inches tall, had her confidence levels soaring.

“Translated, it’s the Night Star Bar.” Said Blaise as he led them out of the alley.

As Hermione and Blaise made their way through the establishment, she looked around. The bar consisted of one large, main room. The center of the room was dominated by a large dance floor, where a large crowd of people were dancing together to some fast, Latin- sounding music. A couple of small tables surrounded the dance floor, and a long bar was set against the back wall. Booths lined the other walls, the attached lamps lit the room with a warm, golden glow.

The place was well- filled, people out to enjoy their evenings. The smooth sound of Italian speech filled the air, along with the cheers and groans of people sitting on bar stools, watching a soccer game on the telly.

“Do you want to dance?” asked Blaise, raising his voice a little to be heard above the hubbub of sound. Hermione smiled and nodded, allowing Blaise to tug her onto the dance floor.

‘Music is sort of a universal language’ Hermione thought as she twisted and twirled. ‘Even though most of the people here are don’t speak English, and they’re not magical, we can all enjoy this.’ As she begins to properly feel the full beat of the music, she was reminded of how much she enjoyed dancing, especially with Blaise. They had gone dancing several time as teens, to both magical and muggle clubs. The nostalgic thought made her smile.

After Blaise and Hermione had been dancing for about an hour, Hermione leaned towards his ear. “I think I need to take a break.” She said, and he nodded, taking her hand.

Blaise’s tall frame had people moving out of their way as they exited the dance floor. A group had just left one of the well- occupied booths, and they slid into either side. “Do you want a drink?” asked Blaise.

“Yeah, a rum and coke would be good, with extra lime. Do you have muggle money?” she asked.

Blaise nodded. “I’ll go grab some drinks,” he said. “Stay right here, and I’ll be back in a second.”

The song ended just as he moved away, and the DJ announced there would be a ten minute break before he resumed playing music. There was an immediate rush to the bar, and the crowd swallowed up Blaise’s form before long. Hermione resigned herself to a long wait, and began to look around the bar.

As she looked around, she made eye contact with a man across the room. He looked to be in his mid- thirties, with straw- colored hair and dull blue eyes. He sat alone at one of the tables, and smiled at her. She gave a polite smile back before turning away. She flipped through the drink menu that sat on the booth’s table, idly staring at the typed Italian words.

When something touched her elbow, Hermione turned her head around. It was the same man as before, and he was standing rather close to the end of the bench.

“Ciao, bella. Posso offrirti da bere?” he asked.

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak Italian.” Replied Hermione, smiling thinly.

“Ah, you are from the England, then?” he asked in broken English. He leaned in towards her a little, and Hermione subtly leaned back, reminding herself that the ‘personal space’ distance varied in other cultures.

“Yes, here on holiday.” Hermione answered, wishing he would go away. Something about the man made her uncomfortable.

“Ah, and you have no one to see you the sights? I show you very pretty places, yes?” he asked.

Hermione began to reply that her boyfriend was more than capable of showing her around, when he leaned forward, touching the side of her face. She happened to be looking into his eyes at that moment, when the strangest thing happened.

Where she had felt rather uneasy before, she was now greatly intrigued by the man. Gesturing in to the seat across from her, she asked him to sit. ‘But that’s Blaise’s seat.’ Insisted a quiet voice in her mind. Hermione quickly shushed the voice. She didn’t want to think about Blaise right now, not when she had such an interesting, handsome man talking to her.

‘Handsome?’ spoke the voice again. But looking more closely, Hermione realized he was rather handsome. While the bland, straw color of his hair had previously been dull and a little stringy, Hermione now realized it had rather fetching streaks of gold. But as she tried to focus on the golden color, it kept moving around, disallowing her concentration. But the golden hue hardly mattered, Hermione mused, because he had such beautiful eyes to look at.

Again, Hermione dreamily realized she had misjudged the color. Originally, they were a strange, pale blue, but now they were a striking blue- green, with flecks of gold. How fetching. The previously irritating voice in her head was beginning to fade, smothered out by a deep fog in her mind.

“So what is your name, bella?” his voice, Hermione realized, was smooth as silk.

“My name isn’t Bella,” giggled Hermione. “It’s Hermione.”

“Ah, beautiful Hermione.” The man repeated. “And you are here on holiday, you say? Where are you staying?”

“At a house.” Said Hermione. “It’s quite near the beach, and it has blue walls.”

The man smiled and laughed, although Hermione couldn’t figure out what was funny. She laughed along anyway, listening to the mixing of their voices. Such a pretty sound…

“And could you take me there?” the man asked, drawing a long, lazy finger over her arm. Hermione shuddered delicately, goose flesh popping up in its wake. She noticed that the fingernail had a bit of dirt under it, and the sight jarred her mind for a moment. She remembered that Xander was back at the house by the beach, and surely she shouldn’t take this man near him. Not while her baby was sleeping.

Hermione shook her head as the fog descended again. “No, but you could show me your house.” She said, cocking her head to the side.

The man nodded. “Okay, I’ll take you to my house, pretty Hermione.”

Hermione blushed at the compliment, and he began to play with the silver bangles around her wrists. They made a pretty clinking noise that she rather liked. His eyes danced as he looked at her, and Hermione fought a blush. As his crooked smile grew, and she knew she had failed.

“I must say, you look absolutely stunning in that dress.” He complimented. “Ah, and there’s the blush again…tell me, how far down does it spread?” His voice was seductive, and Hermione couldn’t help but lean towards him, hypnotized by his eyes, his voice, his scent.

‘Resistance is futile’ she mused dreamily, as she continued their conversation. ‘Merlin, this man is gorgeous.’ Her mind drifted dizzily, and she was only vaguely surprised when he slipped into her side of the booth.

“What do you think?” he murmured into her ear, his hot breath spreading along the curve of her neck. “Do you think I’ll get to find out of that rosy blush extends over your neck? Your breasts? The long line of smooth skin along your stomach? Lower?” Hermione’s breath was coming fast, now, quiet pants. “What do you say we get out of here, darling?”

“I say she’s not interested.” Blaise suddenly snarled as he yanked the other man out of the seat beside her. Hermione’s mind immediately began to clear, and a cold, sinking feeling was beginning to spread in the pit of her stomach.

‘Oh god,’ she thought suddenly, ‘what have I done?’

Looking at the table, she saw two drinks. One was a beer, the other rum and coke, with a lime wedge on the rim of the glass. ‘I drink rum and coke.’ Hermione thought. Wait, hadn’t Blaise gone and gotten her one? Before that man came up and started talking to her…the reality of the situation came rushing back, and Hermione froze in horror. She had been planning to go somewhere with this man. A stranger, who had somehow managed to talk her into going off to an undisclosed location with him, alone.

Blaise’s motion had gathered the attention of a few people around them, but most of the pub was undisturbed. Those who did see were only vaguely interested. They had seen this picture before: boyfriend goes off to buy drinks, leaving his attractive girlfriend behind, who is inevitably hit on by another man. Boyfriend comes back, and eventually kicks the other man to the curb, or gets thrown out by the bouncer.

However, Blaise deviated from their scripts. Gruffly telling Hermione to follow him, he dragged the other man behind him through the bar instead of throwing any punches. Reaching the front doors, Blaise shoved the other man out ahead of him, following directly afterword.

This routine continues until all three are inside the alley across the street. Hermione started to feel a little nervous as her mind rapidly processed what had happened inside Notte Stella Osteria. The man obviously did something to alter her mental patterns, but she hadn’t been eating or drinking anything at the time. Perhaps he had slyly gotten her to inhale something when he touched her face?

Or perhaps he wasn’t working by muggle means, she realized quickly. The thought is jarring in such an undeniably muggle setting, but it wouldn’t be that unusual. There are plenty of wizards in Italy, and perhaps she and Blaise weren’t the only magical beings in the pub.

Before she could stop him, Blaise fired several spells in rapid order. “Expelliarmus! Incarcerous! Silencio! Expecto Patronum!”

As a wand flew away from the other man, Hermione realized her suspicions were right. This realization was followed by the sight of the other man being tightly by invisible ropes as his yells of outrage were silenced. Finally, Blaise’s patronus, an eagle, shot out of his wand. The bird circled one- twice- before flying rapidly into the distance.

“Who did you send a message to?” asked Hermione, regaining her wits. She was a strong, intelligent woman…although her utter vulnerability moments before were a direct contradiction. The thought was unsettling.

“The Italian Ministry of Magic.” Replied Blaise, his voice displaying a barely- contained fury. “This strisciamento is using a banned potion, Amore Sconosciuto. In England, it’s categorized as a variation of Amortentia, and strictly black- market. Here, it’s very closely regulated. If a person is caught using it, especially on muggles like this one was planning to, the ministry is allowed to mentally search for any evidence of the crime. I just sent the patronus so the aurors can come pick this scum bag up.”

Hermione nodded, avoiding eye- contact with the wizard twitching around on the ground. “Can we go, now?” Hermione asked, trying to shake off the feeling of weakness that had taken over.

Blaise looked up from where he had been glaring at the wizard on the ground. Red and green sparks were shooting out of the tip of his wand, betraying his inner rage. “Of course.” He nodded, looking at the other man again.

“Perhaps you should go ahead.” He said after a moment. “I can stick around and make sure the aurors find him.”

Hermione shuddered. “Blaise, we both know they’ll find him easily. We also know you have a rather extensive knowledge of dark curses.” Although the other man was scum, Hermione didn’t feel right, leaving him here at Blaise’s non- existent mercy.

“I also have a rather fantastic ability to find loopholes, thus allowing for near-legal impunity.” Blaise added, smirking.

Hermione laughed a little. “Let’s go.” She said, apparating them back to the house.

While they quietly crept up the stairs to the second story, Blaise and Hermione whisper- yelled over sleeping quarters. “My bed is bigger.” Blaise argued.

“But all my things are in my room, and that’s the first place Xander will come looking for me if he has a nightmare.” Hermione argued back.

“Just accio your things, and we’ll leave the door to my room cracked.” Blaise said. “Xander will come in if he sees the door is open.”

Hermione sighed, and relented. “Fine. I swear, you argue just like a bloody lawyer.”

Hermione used Blaise’s shower for a quick scrub, wanting to get the smell of cigarette smoke out of her hair. She also wanted to scrub off the feel of that creep off her body, especially on her arms. After lathering up several times, Hermione finally felt clean again, and stepped out of the shower.

After throwing on her night gown, she padded into the master bedroom, where Blaise was already changed and flopped over on the bed. Glancing at the clock, Hermione noted it was a little after 2 a.m.

Without a word, Hermione and Blaise settled in for the night. Hermione’s head rested on Blaise’s shoulder, and his arm wrapped around her back, playing with her damp hair. With a flick of his wand he extinguished the lights.

Laying in the darkness, Hermione listened to Blaise’s breathing. It was too fast for him to be sleeping.

“Blaise, are you okay?” Hermione asked, her voice soft in the shadowy room.

“More or less, cara.” Blaise said. “For a moment, there, I thought I might Avada him, seeing his hands on you.”

“Blaise, I’m so sorry.” Hermione whispered.

Blaise sighed, a weary noise that seemed to come from the center of his soul. “It’s alright now, darling.” He comforted, squeezing her a little tighter. “You didn’t know. Tonight taught me something, though.”

“What’s that?” inquired Hermione.

“Jealousy is a very powerful emotion, one we both seem to be afflicted with.”

“They are.” Agreed Hermione. “It’s something we’ll have to work on.”

Blaise made a noise of agreement in the back of his throat, his breathing starting to even out as he was lulled to sleep. A moment later, Hermione followed, letting her body drift into slumber.

Chapter Fourteen Author’s Note:

Hey guys,

*fans self with outline pages* Whew, is it hot in here, or is it just me?! I know most of you didn’t see the lemon coming, and honestly, neither did I. My fingers sort of took over for that one (I apparently have very naughty fingers). Hope you all enjoyed it! If you didn’t notice, this is a ridiculously long chapter at 8,238 words!

So, there was a lot of stuff going on in this chapter; they’ve both worked through their jealousy (mostly) and you got something to look forward to next chapter. Blaise’s very Italian family is a hoot to write, and they’re not all that bad… although, Elena haters, you’re probably going to start sharpening your pitchforks. I think it’s going to be their last chapter in Italy, as it seems to have serves its purpose. You’ll see.

Farvel, alle!

Gotbooks93
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