Summersmut Mod (summersmutmod) wrote in hp_summersmut, @ 2008-08-29 08:00:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2008, hermione granger, hermione/remus, remus lupin |
[FIC] Good Fortune Comes ... : Remus/Hermione :: for ellaselenelupin
Title: Good Fortune Comes to Those Who Get Their Hands Dirty
Author:
Recipient: ellaselenelupin
Pairing: Remus/Hermione
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4,493
Warnings: Bathroom sex, semi-DH compliant (Remus lived and he raises Teddy), bit of dirty talk
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Remus has avoided romance and sex since the Battle of Hogwarts, up until the time Hermione and he began working together. Remus is oblivious and desperate. Hermione wants to unwind after a long week at work—and perhaps, just perhaps, more.
Author's Notes: ellaselenelupin, I hope you enjoy this! Thanks to R for the beta! My infinitesimal thanks to the mod! :D
Remus Lupin was not in the habit of dating his former students. More to the point, Remus Lupin was not in the habit of dating.
For the roughly three years following the Battle of Hogwarts, Remus hadn’t been vaguely interested in anyone, men or women. His sole concentration had been to provide for Teddy, which had mandated him to take an endless string of dead end, low paying jobs to sustain the both of them. No matter how many times Harry offered to help them, Remus refused outright.
Remus still thought of Tonks constantly. Sometimes he would see or hear something and intend to tell Tonks about it and then he would remember: he couldn’t. And whenever Teddy was happy and the tips of his hair flashed bubble gum pink, Remus felt as if a vice was griping his heart. Still, on the whole, a lot of the pain had receded, even if the memory of Tonks had not.
Life had been coasting along smoothly until Remus had picked up his latest job working at the Ministry. Even post-Voldemort, werewolf bias was still such that he wasn’t granted a legitimate job for someone of his intelligence and experience. Sorting through a backlog of old files in the Department of Magical Creatures was easier work than Remus had tackled in years, and the pay far better. Pilfering through old files and maintaining the current records was mostly monotonous, mindless work, but occasionally he unearthed interesting bits of information, such as interdepartmental memos Fudge had sent during his tenure that could, if he dared, be used as fruitful leverage over the Ministry if given to the right person—say, a certain journalist.
So, here he was. It could have easily been just another day at work. Remus’ old Muggle wristwatch read noon, which meant it was lunch hour. In his first days at the office he usually ate alone, but for the last three months Hermione Granger had begun taking her lunches with him.
While Remus sorted through boxes of old files each day, Hermione had been working to strengthen laws protecting house-elves and werewolves. She often asked him for his insight, always treating him as an expert in the know rather than as a victim.
In the beginning it had been simple.
Remus had been working at the Ministry for a little over a week, and while Hermione and he had been friendly as always, there’d been little time in either of their work schedules for more than the barest of polite exchanges. On this day specific day, however, Remus remembered he had exited the file room, where he’d almost run headfirst into Hermione. He had stilled her with a hand to her shoulder, which he still recalled as being warm.
“Pardon me,” he had said in formal airs.
Hermione had laughed and joked about not usually being so clumsy. Remus might’ve been tempted to think of Tonks, but Hermione’s brow had creased and she’d thoroughly distracted him.
She’d put a warm hand over his own—a movement that should have felt awkward but didn’t. “Are you about to take lunch?” she’d asked.
Remus had nodded, noticing the dark shadows beneath Hermione’s eyes and wondered how many late nights Hermione had pulled at the office to distract herself from her recent break-up with Ron Weasley. Maybe Remus wasn’t the only one who was lonely.
“I am,” he’d said, smiling. “Would you like to accompany me?”
Hermione had squeezed his hand before releasing it, and she’d nodded. “I have a few things I want to run by you about the Equal Economic Opportunity Act for All Magical Creatures. We’re running into problems everywhere.”
From there, it had all fallen into place. As they consistently ate lunch together, Remus had been increasingly helping Hermione with her own work. He no longer found the information in the files to be interesting. His mind was now occupied with the legislation and the politics he and Hermione discussed, and more recently, with Hermione, herself.
While today could have been any other day, with the two of them discussing Ministry legislation over lunch sprinkled in with discussion of Teddy and Harry, it was a very different day. Remus had a very different agenda.
Hermione came bustling into the file room around fifteen minutes early, her curly hair flying behind her and her brown eyes aglow.
“The Minister said he’d mention it at the next meeting!” She flung herself at Remus, who just had time to set aside the bundle of files in his arms before Hermione catapulted herself into his arms.
“The EEOA?” he asked into her hair, trying to breathe steadily in and out and desperately trying to curb his arousal to unnoticeable levels. It was rather hard to play it close to the chest with Hermione’s own chest snug against his, her breasts pressed against his chest, her hips jutting against his lower body, and it certainly didn’t help that her nipples were hard.
Hermione’s lips moved against the sensitive curve of his neck, and Remus fought not to moan. “Yes! I can’t believe they finally accepted our proposal.”
Remus smiled despite his sublimely tortured state. “You mean your proposal.”
Hermione pulled away to look him in the eyes. “You know your ideas are what moved this along in the first place. Without you, I don’t know what I’d have done.”
If Remus had the capacity to blush, he would have blushed. Instead he offered a half-smile. “You’d have done brilliantly as always.” Hermione’s eyes were brown and alive with enthusiasm. He averted his own eyes, lowering them—which was a huge mistake considering her nipples were still hard, visible through her thin white blouse. He tore his gaze away with effort.
“Shut up, you.” Hermione punched him gently in the shoulder.
They were standing much too close together and Remus knew it was best to get out of the stale, mouldy air of the closet-like room unless he was going to do something unfortunate—or, rather, fortunately regrettable.
He looked at his watch, delighted to discover it was almost noon. He cleared his throat. Hoping he didn’t sound too pathetic, he said, “It’s time for lunch.”
Hermione smiled. “Yes, it is.” She smoothed her fingers over her blouse, fingers brushing the swells of her breasts, and Remus was now certain his arousal was truly noticeable—Ministry robes or not. “I was thinking Chinese.”
I was thinking of fucking you against the wall, tempting though it might be, probably wouldn’t go over well, so Remus opted for another truth instead: “Me too.”