: What Happens in Gringotts Stays in Gringotts.Author
: Travers/Hermione GrangerRating
: Non/dub con. Kinda.Themes/kinks chosen
: begging, nipple play, pervertibles. Word Count
: Breaking into Gringotts is risky business, as Hermione discovers. Author's notes
: Thanks to torino10154
who encouraged me to actually write this when the bunny attacked out of nowhere. Thanks also to the fabulous sevfan
for beta reading. Disclaimer:
The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
What Happens in Gringotts Stays in Gringotts
Recalling all that had happened to her, Hermione knew just one thing. Breaking into Gringotts had possibly been the worst thing she could have done.
First off, she’d been terrified. And, while none of the goblins seemed to be looking at her, she could tell she’d been under constant scrutiny.
Upon entering the bank’s lobby, she’d stumbled, unaccustomed to the high heels, but righted herself immediately. The tight corset pressing her breasts into her chin wasn’t comfortable either, but she’d chosen to ignore that. As it turned out, it was harder to ignore the way Ron’s eyes kept straying towards them.
she reached her destination, flummoxed to find that the goblin wouldn’t even look at her.
She cleared her throat, softly at first, then more emphatically until he lifted his eyes from his parchment to look down at her. His eyes widened, then he smiled.
Talking a deep breath, Hermione tried her best to channel Bellatrix. “I wish to enter my vault.” Damn, I wish that had come out stronger.
The goblin nodded. “Of course, Madam.” Leaning in, he continued, “But, as you know, we shall require proof of your identity.”
“And why is that?” she snapped.
The goblin frowned. Hermione heard Ron shuffle closer and the hushed conversations that had permeated the background all ground to a halt. “It is standard procedure,” the goblin said. They know.
Fighting a resurgence of terror, Hermione opened her mouth to argue, only to be interrupted.
“Madam Lestrange. How fortunate it is that I encountered you today.”
Turning, Hermione came face to face with a wizard clad all in black. He smirked and the look in his eyes made her shiver. “And just who are you?” she blustered.
The man raised an eyebrow. “It’s Travers. I realise that you meet many men in your...position in the Dark Lord’s court, but I’d thought you’d remember me.”
Hermione swallowed hard. “My apologies, Travers, but I am on an urgent errant for the Dark Lord and--”
“Of course. Say no more.” Travers’ gaze went to the goblin, who was eyeing them. “Perhaps I can assist?” He smirked at the goblin. “Madam Lestrange and I require a private room.”
The goblin trembled. “Mr Travers--”
The word was soft, but the goblin reacted immediately. “O-of course.”
Alarmed that the situation was rapidly going out of control, Hermione said, “I don’t--”
“Trust me, this will be much faster,” Travers murmured, grasping her arm and steering her behind the goblin’s desk.
Immediately, Ron stepped forward, face fierce.
“My...bodyguard,” Hermione improvised. “He’s from...Germany.”
“Ah.” Travers shrugged. “He can accompany us, then.” He smiled coldly. “As long as he doesn’t...interfere.”
And so they went. Hermione couldn’t think of any way to not go. At least Ron and Harry are with me.
They were ushered into a small room containing several chairs, some lit candles, and a long conference table. The goblin bowed to Travers.
“When we’re done, you shall take Madam Lestrange to her vault,” Travers said.
The goblin nodded, leaving quickly.
Hermione, her hands clenched so tightly that her nails were digging into her palms, said, “Travers, I do not have time--”
!” Travers smiled as Ron froze in place.
“What have you done?” Hermione cried.
Travers raised an eyebrow. “I’ve slowed down time to give us a chance to get...reacquainted,” he purred. “Come now, Bella. We’re alone, you can drop the act.”
“Act?” Licking her lips, Hermione reached for Bellatrix’s wand, but she was too late.
!” Travers caught the wand, setting it aside. “What’s wrong, Bella?” He frowned, but then his face cleared. “Oh, I see.” His gaze flicked to Ron, whose face was turning red. “You need plausible deniability. Very well, we can play it that way. After all, I know you don’t mind things...rough.”
He took three long strides and was directly in front of her, his hands cupping her breasts through her clothes.
Travers huffed. “Fine,” he snapped. “Silencio
.” Another hissed spell bound her wrists together. Where the hell is Harry?
Then she realised. He’s caught in the spell that’s keeping Ron contained, too. Oh God.
Travers was in the process of unlacing her corset, his hands fumbling over her breasts. “Merlin, you really have the best tits I’ve ever seen,” he whispered, pressing her against the conference table. “Your husband’s a fool.” His fingers found her nipples and he squeezed until tears came to her eyes.
Lowering his head, he sucked first one abused nipple into his mouth, then the other, biting down firmly before finally pulling off. “Mmmm.”
Hermione closed her eyes, shaking. Please, please--
Though her voice was gone, she was still mouthing a plea. “Please--” But as he continued, her body began to respond, arousal spiking through her.
“Are you begging, Bella?” Travers’ lips brushed the tip of Hermione’s ear. “That’s quite the turn on. I didn’t think you had it in you.” He caught her fleshy earlobe in his teeth and tugged.
She opened her eyes, staring into his. He smiled. “But enough of that. You’re about to have something else in you.”
She shook her head ‘no’, but Travers ignored her, spinning her until she was facing the table before pushing her face down against the smooth surface. It was cool and for a moment, felt good against her aching nipples.
To her horror, he hissed another spell, and in an instant her legs were spread wide, her arse up the air.
He flipped up her skirt, ripping away her knickers and exposing her bare backside to the room. “Let’s make this interesting, shall we?” he whispered. “Accio
Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw one of the unlit candles fly towards Travers’ hand. No. Oh no.
She closed her eyes as his fingers pushed inside her roughly. He’ll know now. He’ll know I’m not her, that I’ve never--
“You are dripping wet,” he murmured, a finger pressed into her. “I knew you would be. You’ve always loved this.” Always? Just how well does he know Bellatrix
? And God help her, it did feel as if her body, Bellatrix’s body
, she corrected hazily as he slipped a second finger in, thrived on rough treatment. She was shuddering, her cunt clinging to him as he fondled her. When he added a third, she closed her eyes and clung to sanity as the body she wore eagerly opened to his probing.
“I could probably slide my entire fist inside you right now,” he whispered. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” He rotated his fingers and Hermione shook, caught between pleasure and the edge of pain. “Unfortunately, we’ve no time.” After long seconds, he removed the fingers, replacing them with something firm and unfamiliar.
She gasped. The candle! He was pushing the candle
Without pausing, Travers tapped her hip with his wand and the candle began sliding in and out of her under its own power.
She heard the sound of a zipper and she shivered. Something nudged her arse.... “I know how you love it in the arse,” he told her, and as he opened her up, first with his fingers, Hermione trembled.
When he finally breached her arse with his cock she felt like she would burst. It was too much and yet not enough.
“Merlin, you’re tight,” Travers panted as he moved in and out of her. “You weren’t lying. That husband of yours really doesn’t touch you back here, does he?”
As he sped up, so did the candle until, with a bellow, Travers thrust into her hard, his nails digging into her flesh as he held on and pumped deep inside her. When he finally finished, he slumped over her and the candle came to a stop halfway inside her.
Reaching around her, Travers pulled the candle out, then with a few swipes of his thumb over her clit, had her coming hard. “I always take care of you,” he murmured. “I know how dangerous it is to leave someone like you wanting.”
Once he’d recovered his breath, Travers pulled out, refastening his clothes, and with a few waves of his wand, cleaned them both up. “I’ll notify the goblins that you’ll need access to your vault, Madam Lestrange. Until next time.” He winked at her. Before he reached Ron, he cancelled the time spell and walked out the door, shutting it behind him.
“Hermione!” the suddenly freed Ron cried, reaching for her.
Shaking her head, she backed away. “We’ve no time,” she said, cursing mentally at the wobble in her voice. “We have to get to the vault.”
“Sod the vault!” Harry said, face white with shock. “We need to get you out of here. He...hurt you.”
“And how are we going to do that?” she snapped, trembling. “Look, this is our only chance, when will we have another?”
“She is right.” Griphook’s eyes were glittering in a knowing way that Hermione didn’t like. “They’re coming with the Clankers now. This may be our only chance.” The goblin’s eyes lingered on her cleavage for a moment before he looked away.
The moment he turned away, she clutched her wand and whispered, “Obliviate
Griphook stumbled, righting himself by grabbing a chair. “What are we standing about in here for?” he snapped. “We must go!”
“What--?” Ron glanced at her, clearly concerned.
Pushing past him, Hermione reached for the door. “Get back under the Cloak,” she said to Harry. “You can’t be seen.”
Harry and Ron exchanged a speaking look before Harry finally nodded and pulled the Cloak over himself and Griphook.
The trip down to the vaults was harrowing and for a moment, Hermione actually forgot what Travers had done to her. Going through the Thief’s Downfall washed away Bellatrix’s body, and Hermione, finally back to herself, felt better, although she still ached in the places where Travers had squeezed her, touched her. Violated me,
she thought, although it felt more like an automatic protest than true outrage.
They manoeuvred past the dragon guarding the door and when they finally got into Bellatrix’s vault, it was a matter of minutes to find the cup. Of course, even that proved difficult, and when they emerged, burnt and almost buried by magically replicating treasure, Hermione was focussed only on escape.
Griphook, as she’d expected, had taken the first opportunity to get the sword and had already slipped into the ranks of the Gringotts goblins. Between them and the guards, Hermione wasn’t sure how they could get out.
“What do we do now?” Harry shouted over the spells and the roars of the chained dragon. “We need to get out of here! Anyone got any ideas?”
Ron whispered something Hermione couldn’t hear and Harry nodded.
“What?” Hermione snapped.
“We need to get you to a doctor.” Harry wouldn’t look at her, and in that moment Hermione knew what she had to do.
“I’m fine. And I’ve an idea,” she said. “But it’s mad!” As she spoke, she closed her fist around her wand and thought hard.
Ron’s face cleared. “Anything’s better than nothing at this point!”
Nodding, she pulled her wand, pointing it at the dragon, breaking its chains. A moment later, she’d jumped onto its back. “Well? Come on?” she screamed.
They followed and, miraculously, as the dragon dug its way out of Gringotts, they managed to stay on. One final spell made the last of the chains fall away, then they were airborne.
“Well that was mad,” Ron said. “Everyone all right?”
Hermione closed her eyes. She’d hated using a Memory Charm on them, but couldn’t abide having them look at her with such...pity. “I’m fine,” she said, resting her head against the dragon’s scales. “Just fine.”
When, twenty hours later, Hermione stumbled down a hallway, she wasn’t thinking about much of anything. Voldemort was dead, she and Ron and Harry were alive. More than that was beyond her.
She’d gone about two days without sleep and so her reflexes weren’t what they normally were. Which was probably why she tripped over the body lying there and ended up sprawled on the floor, staring into the dead eyes of Travers.
With a moan, she scooted backwards until she was up against the wall. Silently, she cried, tears running down her cheers.
“Hermione?” Ron found her there. “Hey, are you all right? What’s wrong?” He glanced over at Travers. “Who was he? Did you know him?”
Closing her eyes, Hermione wiped her face, shaking her head. She would never tell. “No,” she lied.
“Right, well, come on. Let’s go. You need sleep.” He smiled as he helped her up. “And maybe later there could be snogging?” he suggested as he led her away.
Sparing one last look at Travers, Hermione resolutely turned away. “Absolutely,” she said, tucking her arm in his. “Maybe even a little more than snogging.” After all, she had a lot to learn about her own body. She already knew far too much about Bellatrix’s.