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 |
Time's Up by Gotbooks93
Summary: After successfully hiding the existence of her son for eight years, Hermione is out of luck and time. When the father of her child discovers her secret, their quiet worlds are changed forever. Join Hermione as she takes on the challenges of co-parenting, snake charming, and a crazy little thing called 'love'.
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.
CHAPTER TWENTY- FIVE
In a second, the Weasley twin's faces went to playful and expectant to horrified and furious. Faster than she could blink, both twins had fired off a stupefy, hitting Lang solidly in the back. The man went down hard, his head making a dull thud as it hit the stone floor.
"Good to see the old reflexes are still sharp." Hermione feebly joked, a slight wheeze in her voice.
For once, though, neither twin so much as cracked a smile. "So, it was a good thing we stunned him?" George asked, nudging Lang's prone form with the toe of his lilac shoe. "We didn't catch you in the throes of a secret, torrid affair?"
"Yes and no." Hermione replied, making a wide circle around Lang as she moved to her desk.
The redheads exchanged a startled glance, causing Hermione to laugh weakly as she forced down the churning feeling in her gut.
"Yes, I am glad you stunned him. And no, I was not having an affair." She clarified, much to their relief.
While Fred conjured her a glass of water, George proceeded to cast a careful Incarcerous, causing a length of rope to shoot from his wand, wrapping around Lang's body before tying itself into a neat knot. Hermione quickly scribbled out a note:
B~I need you at Hogwarts, now. Home floo will be open. ~H
She sent the missive off with Hermes, watching him disappear into the inky sky. That accomplished, Hermione considered summoning McGonagall, but ultimately decided against it as she gazed at Lang's bound form on her office floor. Normally, she would be all for a formal report against the depraved Ministry worker, but the looming court date seemed to affect her judgment.
"You know," Fred drawled from where he was sprawled in one of her visitor chairs, "it's not often that the great Hermione Granger plays damsel in distress to mere mortals such as ourselves."
"Yes, well, don't get used to it." She said, trying to still the shaking of her hands. She could feel the pressure of Lang's hand against her mouth, and she unthinkingly wiped her lips with the back of her hand. "Not that I'm not grateful, but what are the two of you doing here?"
"Business." The twins chimed simultaneously, raising her suspicions.
"Weasley's Wizard Wheezes business? In Hogwarts? With Minerva McGonagall as headmistress?" Hermione questioned, her eyebrows shooting up her forehead.
"Well," George hedged. "Darling Minnie doesn't exactly know we're here at the moment. Last time we tried to get onto school grounds, there was apparently concern for a student riot… Or something."
She smirked. "'Or something' being?"
"Dear ole' Filch apparently doesn't miss us as much as we miss him." Fred admitted. "Well, us or our products. No sense of humor, that one."
"Yes well, I shudder to think of what lunatics will apply to be the next Hogwarts caretaker, when Filch finally croaks." She shuddered delicately. "So, business?"
With a practiced flourish, both twins pulled several lime- green scrolls of parchment from their robes. "During your last visit to Diagon Alley, at the end of the summer, we mentioned the possibility of collaboration between ourselves and a certain Charms mistress."
"If I remember correctly, you were planning to visit several months ago." Hermione remarked, recalling their letter.
"Indeed, indeed." George agreed. "However, we are no longer the adorable, clever scamps you knew as a schoolgirl. Now, we're important business men."
"Wealthy, important business men!" His twin interjected gleefully.
"Yes. Wealthy, Handsome, Important business men who are very busy running their wildly successful business." George asserted, getting an approving nod from Fred. "And so our latest invention has taken a backseat to other priorities. But no longer!""
Silence settled around the office, and both twins leaned forward expectantly. Hermione cleared her throat. "Er, well, go ahead."
As if released from tightly coiled springs, the twins leapt to their feet, flicking their wands to unroll the scrolls. "Ms. Granger, we present to you the newest and coolest Weasley's Wizards Wheezes creation: the scroll sorter!"
Hermione gestured for them to bring their scrolls closer and peered at them closely. Her brows knitted, and for a moment the only sound was the creaking of some old pipes. Then, "Fred, George, this is some really impressive magic." She commented, taking one scroll, filled with notes and blueprints into her hand. As she read, she could feel her mind sinking deeper and deeper into the details of the invention. Mentally constructing the item and making modifications. After several minutes, Hermione sat back in her chair and regarded the twins.
"I really don't give you two enough credit." She confessed.
"A common mistake." Said George.
"One of the many woes of the master prankster." Agreed Fred.
"No matter how clever you are, though, you couldn't have picked worse timing." Hermione said, shaking her head. "In case you two have been living under a rock, I have a court hearing to face in the morning; one which will likely change the entirety of my future."
"Oh, we know about your little tango with the Wizengamot." Fred said, his voice sly. "We just thought we'd drop by and remind you of this project, along with the countless others you've helped develop over the years. Provide a little…encouragement."
Instantly, the twins began pulling out a plethora of other scrolls from their robes, their colors ranging from shocking tangerine to calming midnight blue. Hermione immediately recognized several blueprints right away: The Dark Trinket Detector, The Color Code Quill, and No- Fill Notecards. Hermione smiled, amused by the wizarding world's love for alliterations.
"Merlin, I had forgotten about some of these." Hermione remarked, unrolling another scroll. As she flipped through the pages, she began to notice a trend: each page had a comment or correction in her writing along with HG next to it.
"Harry may have given us our start-up money, but you've helped create some of our most useful items. Consequently, both Freddie and I consider you an unofficial silent partner." Said George.
"Thanks, guys." Hermione said with a faint smile. The three continued to reminisce about various products- both successful and failed.
"Don't know why the Firefly Frenzy never caught on." Fred mused. "Thought that one'd be a sure- fire hit."
Hermione snorted. "Because everyone wants to be followed around by a swarm of blinking bugs every night."
"It could happen!" Fred insisted, much to the amusement of his companions.
"So, who's the unlucky bloke?" George asked, switching topics as he sent a sour look towards the floor.
"An unwanted acquaintance, I suppose." Hermione said, keeping her answers vague. Although she trusted her friends, they could not afford an accidental slip up by either one with the case so close at hand. "I think I've got it from here, boys. You have my deepest thanks, of course."
"What, you're not going to let us treasure this rare moment of heroism and friendship? Saving our dear, dear friend from certain chaos?" George asked, aghast.
"Yeah! I mean, normally we're the one causing the chaos." Fred cackled.
Giving her best no- nonsense stare, Hermione flung a pointed finger at the door to her classroom. "As much as I've enjoyed your visit, I'm afraid I have other things to take care of. Out. Now." She ordered, raising a single brow in mock intimidation.
As they gathered their violet cloaks from the back of her visitor's chairs, the twins continued to chuckle. "Still freaks me out a little when she acts like a mum." Fred stage- whispered to his brother as they departed. Their hoots of laughter echoed down the hallway as they left. Hermione made a mental note to check for an increase in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes products in the days to come.
"Oh, wait!" She shouted suddenly, noticing the heaps of parchment that still covered her desk. "Fred, George! You forgot the blueprints!"
However it seemed her calls were four naught, as neither twin re-appeared in the doorway. Her sigh of resignation was cut short as a rapid knock came from behind her. The door lead to her and Xander's rooms, and she hurried to answer it.
She cracked it open a little. Blaise stood on the other side, his hair in disarray. Upon spotting her, he began to push the door open, only to be deterred by Hermione.
"Give me your wand, please." She said resolutely, holding out a hand.
"Excuse me?" Blaise asked, one eyebrow arching.
"Your wand. I don't think it's a good idea for you to have it, for the time being, so I need you to trust me."
After giving her a long, measured look, Blaise reached into the inside pocket of his suit, withdrawing his wand. He hesitated before putting it into her palm, withdrawing a little.
"What was the first Christmas gift you got me?" He asked.
"A signed copy of Magical Law and Government: A Guide by Samuel McNewmara." She replied readily, stretching her palm out once again, and was soon rewarded as he set the cool wood inside her palm.
"Now may I come in, Professor Granger?" He asked.
"You may, Mr. Zabini." She allowed, stepping aside.
The dark haired Slytherin stepped into her office, and Hermione opened her mouth to speak, hoping to cut off Blaise's inevitable fury over Lang's presence. She might have managed it, too, if the man in question hadn't emitted long, pathetic moan from the other side of the desk.
Brows knitting, Blaise strode around the offending piece of furniture with quick, strong strides. She knew the exact moment he spotted the sleazy Ministry worker.
Blaise's rage engulfed him like a cloak. His hands fisted, his shoulders tensed, and Hermione could see the defined muscles of his back become taunt, even though his tailored blazer.
"Blaise, wait. Hear me out." Hermione said quickly from behind him.
Her words were in vain, however, as Blaise began to shrug out of his jacket, his eyes remaining on Lang's wiggling body. Confused, Hermione was silent as she watched the man before her. Realizing she still held both their wands in her hand, she pulled open a drawer of her desk and deposited both inside.
Hearing the drawer open and close, Blaise glanced at her over his shoulder.
"Sweetheart, if you think the lack of a wand is going to keep me from teaching this pezzo di merda a lesson, you haven't been paying attention." He admonished, his fury lurking beneath the silky smooth tones of his voice.
"Weren't you the one that told Xander that proper wizards fight magically, not physically?" Hermione asked, desperately trying to reason with him.
"I did," the hot-headed Italian agreed, deftly removing his cufflinks and depositing them on her desktop. "But in the case there is no wand to be had, a man may resort to other methods. In my experience, my fists can do the job quite nicely." He finished rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, and gave Lang a swift kick in the ribs. His action caused the unconscious man to re- enter the sentient world.
Lang gave a groan, squinting against the light. As his vision focused, his mouth twisted into a snarl. "Oh, it's you. You piece of Italian filth! Did your little whore tell you she's mine now? I can't wait to put her little mudblood mouth to work, the stupid, ungrateful bitch-"
His venomous tone reminded her a little of the crazed Barty Crouch, Jr., and she flinched away from the memory. Lang's breath wheezed out as Blaise hauled him off the floor, slamming his body against the hard wood of her door. This was immediately followed by Blaise's fist connecting solidly with the other man's jaw, and Hermione heard a slight crunch.
"Can't fight like a man, eh?" Lang wheezed out, spitting a wad of blood onto the floor. "Have to wait until your opponent is tied up and unable to defend himself? Isn't that just like an Italian. Cowards, the whole lot of you."
In an instant, the conjured ropes fell to the floor, and Blaise took a step back. Lang gained his footing, raised balled fists in front of his chest, and looked a little shocked. His shocked expression was quickly replaced by pain as Blaise's fist shot out, quick as lightning, landing in the center of his gut. A hand instantly clamed around Lang's neck, and Blaise gave the smaller man's head another good smash against the wall.
As the air whooshed out of Lang, Hermione regained her senses. Diving for the desk, Hermione scooped her wand out.
"Blaise, stop." She ordered loudly. Both men stilled, obviously having forgotten about her.
Seeing her wand trained directly at him, Blaise glanced at Lang, then back to her; obviously weighing his odds.
"Blaise, I mean it. Stop." She stressed, looking at him pleadingly. She had already decided: if he didn't cease and desist immediately, she would stun both of them. But something stayed her hand; something inside her wanted to test this man she cared so deeply for.
Another second ticked by, and Blaise still looked vaguely indecisive.
"Please. For me?" Hermione spoke again, her voice quieter.
Looking at her hard, Blaise's shoulders sagged a little as he released his grip on the man before him.
Lang gave a rasping laugh, leaning against the wall. "Well, will you look at that? The big, bad pureblood ponce has been tamed by some little mudblood bitch."
Before Blaise had a chance to lash out, Hermione had fired off an Oppugno. She allowed the small yellow birds peck at Lang's screaming face for a few moments before canceling it. Lang's relief was short- lived as Hermione cast a Stupify. She and Blaise watched dispassionately as he crumpled to the floor.
"You know, too many Stupify's can cause some serious brain damage, if they're cast too close together." She commented, her eyes still trained on Lang.
"A Stupify wouldn't have been necessary if you'd have let me finish the job. Why did you stop me?" Blaise inquired angrily, only to gain silence as a response.
"Hermione?" Blaise called again. Huffing out a frustrated breath, he strode towards her. He stopped in front of her, blocking her view of Lang's bloodied body.
"Hermione." He stressed her name, cupping her shoulders with firm but gentle hands. Giving her a shake, he asked again. "Why did you have to stop me?"
"Because at the moment, you're psychotic bitch of a mother is trying to steal our child from us, the press is in a frenzy, and we're due in court in a little more than twelve hours from now! Because we have enough stuff on our plates, without a dead body to take care of!" She snapped, jerking from his grasp. "How could you do that, losing your cool like that?"
"Oh, and I'm supposed to just let him storm in here, talk a bunch of merda, and take advantage of my woman?" Blaise shouted, throwing his hands into the air.
"Your woman?" Hermione scoffed, hands on her hips. "Do you really think now is a good time to go caveman? And I hate to break it to you, but I belong to no one but myself."
Blaise's hands buried themselves in his hair, and he tugged hard. "Why? Why do I have to be in love with such a crazy woman?" He asked the ceiling.
Unamused, Hermione gave him an exasperated look. "Will you stop being such a drama queen and help me figure out what we're doing with him?"
Blaise glanced behind him, looking at Lang. "Give me a minute." He ordered, striding back into her personal quarters.
Hermione heard the floo flare, and Blaise's voice. While she could hear him carrying on a conversation, the words were muffled. While she waited, she glanced around her office. A chair had been overturned at some point, and Fred and George's multi- colored scrolls still littered the top of her desk. She began to straighten the office manually, knowing she would mentally benefit from it more the non-magical way.
As she tied the blueprints together, Blaise returned. Accompanying him was a familiar face.
"Christian!" Hermione greeted Blaise's cousin. The man's red-brown hair, soft green eyes, and easygoing grin were a welcome sight.
"Salve, Hermione." The man greeted, giving her a brief but tight hug. "I hear you two ran into a spot of trouble."
"You could say that." Hermione agreed, her eyes drawing his attention to the floor. She quickly explained the afternoon's events, cringing as she relayed Lang's lascivious offer.
Christian gave out a long, low whistle. "My, my, you weren't kidding, were you Blaisey?"
"Cara, I hope you realize we can't just let Lang wander off, and we don't have time to do a proper memory modification." Blaise said to Hermione, gaining a reluctant nod. He turned to Christian, looking serious. "He needs to make a visit to Scampini's, I think."
Christian's eyebrows shot up, and his gaze locked with his cousin's. The seemed to have a silent conversation before Christian nodded. "Right. Let me go see if they have a … spot open. Hermione, love, do you mind if I use your floo for a moment?" He requested.
Hermione gave her consent and the man slipped out of the room, leaving her alone with Blaise. His eyes caught on the Weasley's scrolls in her arms.
"Are those Weasley's Wizard Wheezes papers?" He asked, nodding towards the pile.
"Hmm? Oh, yes. Fred and George were the ones that got Lang off of me. They originally came by to reminisce about past projects."
"Past projects?" he questioned, gesturing to the scrolls. She relinquished the pile, explaining as he examined each one.
"Fred, George, and I have worked on a few WWW products over the years. Unofficial consultations, I suppose. They always offer to give me royalties for the products I worked on, but it doesn't seem right. They keep my name on the patent, and that's enough."
Blaise nodded slowly, still looking intently through the pile. "Would you mind if I took these home for a bit?" He requested.
Confused, Hermione shrugged. "I suppose not." She agreed.
After a few more minutes, Christian poked his head back in the door. "Blaise, they're ready for us. Their floo will be open for a few more minutes, but we best hurry."
Blaise nodded, shrinking the scrolls and shoving them into a pocket. He collected his wand from Hermione's desk, giving her a pointed look. She returned his gaze evenly, refusing to show any remorse.
"Will you be okay?" He asked her.
"I'll come back and stay with her for a bit." Christian interjected calmly. Blaise shot him a look, which Christian batted away carelessly. "Calm down, stupido. I'll help you drop him off, but Scampini is going to want to talk to you about… details, and then you need to get back to Alexander and Naomi.."
Blaise sighed. Both men cast Wingardium Leviosa and levitated Lang's body, moving towards Hermione's private floo. If Lang's head accidently hit the walls a few too many times on the journey, no one present cared enough to comment.
"Don't let this fool keep you up too late, cara." Blaise said as he chucked a handful of floo powder into the fireplace. "I'm going to get everything ready for the case tomorrow, and you should try to get some sleep; dark circles under the eyes tend to make one look guilty. We'll meet tomorrow morning at the Ministry atrium at six o'clock. With any luck, we'll be able to avoid the majority of the press at that hour."
Hermione agreed steadily, and a moment later Blaise, Christian, and Lane disappeared into emerald flames. After a few minutes, Christian re-appeared, and Hermione invited him to take a seat on the couch while she made a pot of tea. Before long they were both settled onto the couch with mugs clasped between their hands.
"I suppose there'll be a cover story?" Hermione ventured, offering Christian sugar.
He declined, taking a sip of his black tea. "Unfortunately, Mr. Lang suffered a psychotic break a mere day before his appearance in court. If necessary, several witnesses are ready to attest to his unstable behavior, which included public masturbation and screaming conspiracy theories to invisible companions." Christian said casually as he fiddled with his pocket watch.
Hermione stared, her mouth slightly agape. The words flowed so easily from the man's mouth, she would have completely believed him, had she not known the truth.
"Thankfully an anonymous benefactor came forward, offering to pay room, board, and medical bills if he would be admitted to Edwardo Scampini's Home for the Mentally Insane, a mental hospital just outside of Ragusa."
"Ragusa?" She questioned.
"A small city in southern Sicily." Christian supplied. "Of course, Lang's estranged sister and only living relative will immediately accept the generous offer, stating- and I quote- 'They better be ready for that crazy bastard.' End quote."
"What if someone comes looking for him? A co-worker, or a neighbor."
Christian gave her an indulgent look. "Darling, do you really think that schifezza is the first person to be admitted to Edwardo Scampini's Home for the Mentally Insane? The Zabinis have been using that line for hundreds of years. As a matter of fact, the place does appear to exist- 'appear' being the key word, here- thanks to a paranoid but ultimately practical ancestor."
Hermione sat back in her chair, deep in thought. On one hand, Lang was a slimy, no-good blackmailer and potential rapist. He provided slanderous lies in her court case, one that might take away the person she loved most in the world, Xander. Overall, not a good guy.
But then her conscience kicked in; as despicable as the man was, he was still a human being. And if she left it up to Blaise and Christian, Hermione couldn't say that he would be treated as a human. The possibilities of his 'punishment' began to list in her mind: starvation, beatings, curses, and an array of creative but painful hexes.
Hermione had enough guilt that kept her awake at night.
"What will happen to him?" She asked hesitantly.
Christian, who had wandered over to the window as she thought, turned his head in her direction.
"That's up to Blaise." He answered simply, shrugging.
"Why?"
"It was his family that was hurt. He'll decide on Lang's punishment."
Hermione bit her lip, looking away. The confused look in Christian's eyes unsettled her a little. Like he didn't understand that what would happen was wrong.
She knew Christian was a good person at his core. He obviously cared for her, as one would a sister- in- law, or a close friend. But he had been raised with the same values as Blaise; eliminate the competition. Never let your guard down. And above all else, protect your own.
"Where is he now?" She asked quietly.
"Who? Blaise? Lang?"
She thought for a moment before answering. "Both."
"Lang is being held by a friend of ours until Blaise has time to get back to him. Blaise is probably in his office at the manor, getting a few more things ready for the trial tomorrow." Christian responded.
The reply was much as she had expected. She quickly scribbled out a note as Christian collected his cloak.
B,
Please don't go after L. again until we've talked. I know you can probably get away with it without me knowing, but I'm asking as a personal favor. Tell Xander I love him, and will see him in a few days. Don't work yourself too hard; I need you sharp tomorrow morning.
Love, H
She hesitated a little before writing the valediction, before deciding that she was too tired to care. Let Blaise make of it what he would of the four letter word. Folding it up carefully, Hermione handed the note to Christian, along with the jar of floo powder.
"Give this to Blaise, if you will, and tell Noemi I said 'hello'." Hermione requested, returning his embrace.
"No problem." Christian assured her as he took a handful of the green powder. "I'll see you bright and early tomorrow morning, yeah?"
Hermione nodded, unconsciously winding her arms around her torso. A few moments later, the fire roared with green flame and Christian was gone.
~(o)~
The Head Warlock struck his gravel against its block, and the hall descended into near- silence. Blaise and Hermione stood in the middle of the oval- shaped court room, flanked by seating on either side. Off to their left, the press was nothing more than a flurry of scratching quills and quietly clicking cameras. To their right, both the witnesses and the plaintiffs sat, waiting their respective turns.
Hermione kept her eyes resolutely forward, focusing on a point just over the Undersecretary's left shoulder. The stone there seemed to have been word down by age and a millennia of fidgeting Wizengamot members.
"Let the record show that the case of the Division for Protection of Magical Children versus Granger has begun on Friday, December the fifteenth, in the year Two thousand and twelve. I, High Warlock Carrick Bronzen O'Reiley, hereby call this trial to order…"
And so it began.
Translations:
"Pezzo di merda" (Italian)
-An insult or slur. Literally, "piece of shit"
"Cara" (Italian)
-Term of endearment; dear, darling
"Merda" (Italian)
-Excrement or waste, Literally "shit"
"Stupido" (Italian)
-An insult to another person's intelligence; stupid
"Cara" (Italian)
-Term of endearment; dear, darling
"Schifezza" (Italian)
-Word for trash, filth
Chapter Twenty- Five Author's Note:
Hey guys,
So, we've finally gotten to the trial. It definitely won't take up more than one chapter, as I'm still shooting for 30 chapters, total. The end is neigh, my friends!
Next chapter will feature you guy's favorite person. That's right! Elena Zabini, in the literary flesh. So brace yourselves.
Sayonara, folks,
Gotbooks93
P.S. A big thanks to Luminari_Lilium for helping me out with technical difficulties in this chapter!!!
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