4: Rung Two - Him

Disclaimer: Not mine. No money. Special thanks go to JKR for sanctioning HP fanfic.

Gobs of thanks go to my beta Southern Witch 69 and to my Brit-picker the amazing Saracen77.

4: Rung Two – Him

June 30th, 7:35 pm

The Leaky Cauldron is quiet. Most people spend Victory Day at home with friends and loved ones. Which means it is the perfect time to find Dumbledore’s pet Death Eater drinking alone in a pub.

Bitter, very bitter, old man.

All three of the other patrons stare when they think I am not looking and turn quickly away when they realize I am.

The Ogden’s is strong, but I cannot indulge in enough of it to make a difference at this point – Tonks’s party began on the hour, and even though I could back out of helping, I definitely stated I would be there for the event.

Although I did help – only I ‘helped’ the wrong woman. Or the right woman – after all, she orgasmed so fiercely that she must have needed it. Perhaps Weasley fails to keep his end up.

I toss back the rest of my drink, but it will do little to keep the dark voice at bay. I snort. ‘The dark voice’ – as if it were someone other than myself.

As if I were not the man who killed his best friend. Even though the ruddy bastard was correct, and it was a necessary step along the treacherous road to victory, the fact remains that I killed my best friend.

One year ago, I was still sitting in a Ministry cell, awaiting the completion of my trial, which had been temporarily suspended for the first Victory Day Celebration. The Ministry held a ceremony, the Order threw its party, and I had my first unofficial visit from Auror Tonks.

She had been the investigating Auror on my case, and this meant she had done most of the work uncovering evidence about my activities as both a Death Eater and a member of the Order. Since the case was winding down, and Albus’s Pensieve clearing me of responsibility had been viewed, Tonks once more saw me as a comrade in arms.

She came bearing dinner and must have asked Minerva about my food preferences because she had a Shepherd’s Pie and a four-pack of Boddingtons. How she ever learned the Muggle bitter I had grown fond of while on the run, I will never know.

I ate most of the pie, but she matched me drink for drink on the Boddingtons, and after finishing, we were both pleasantly inebriated. When she slid to my end of the bed and straddled my lap, I did nothing to protest and returned her kiss with enthusiasm. A Slytherin knows how to accept gifts from Gryffindors, who rarely attach strings.

Thus began one of the strangest relationships of my life. The sex is good – primarily because of her enthusiasm and the fact that she constantly metamorphs her body into various shapes and colorations. In fact, it is more accurate to describe our encounters as a series of one-night stands. This was thrilling at first, and especially so since I had had so little time for carnal pleasures once Voldemort returned.

Yet, while some men would look upon my situation as a gift of the gods, it has begun to pale. There is no intellectual or emotional connection. Tonks may like me, but it is the like one feels for a fond acquaintance.

Or a pet.

Is that all I am to her? The partially tame Death Eater who is an exciting fuck? She always did like a little monster in her man – Lupin being a case in point.

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. If that is the situation, then it is not conscious on her part. She is not a malicious person. To her, we are simply having fun, and it is enough for now.

But for me? What do I want anymore?

A Gryffindor who comes so hard that her deliciously wet cunny will squeeze my cock until it …

Enough! A fuck will not solve my problems.

First off, I need employment. My teacher’s salary never kept me anything but solvent, and the little I managed to squirrel away is dwindling quickly. Even after my full pardon, no apothecary seems willing to hire me, Potions Master or not. I have to hope that Minerva will ask me to return to Hogwarts when I see her tonight. She asked after I was pardoned, but I never thought I could stand to see the place where I killed Albus.

Now I will have to.

There have been changes. Who knew Head-Professor McGonagall would campaign so vehemently for non-sexist job titles? Gone is the rank of Mistress – all those completing a certified apprenticeship are Masters, which is the original title of the designation. Gone are the Head Boy and Girl positions – now there are Head Students for each House chosen from the seventh years with an unstated rule that the sexes will be evenly represented. Minerva argues that the inherent prejudice that gave rise to the Death Eater Movement can take many forms – magical ability, gender, race, class, sexual orientation, etc. Gender is the next area to undertake, and, as the leader of the now public Order, she has the desire and the power to do so. Besides, it keeps the hardnosed traditionalists – those who supported Voldemort without becoming Death Eaters – too busy to reorganize their blood-purity pogrom. Rather Slytherin of her actually.

There will also be an almost entirely new faculty. Albus, Filius, Pomona, and Veruca are gone. Sibyll retired since she no longer needed to hide from Voldemort. Minerva no longer teaches.

I hope it will be different enough.

Granger will be there. Having her in my bed and life would make things very different.

I stand quickly, toss a handful of Sickles on the bar, and Disapparate to Tonks’s – I am already late.

I have not thought on what I will do when I next see Granger. How very un-Slytherin of me.

My frock coat jockeys for space on a coat rack, and I run a hand through my hair before entering the chaos of the sitting room. Letting out a breath I had not realized I was holding, I feel simultaneously relieved and disappointed when I do not see her in the crowd.

AN: I’ve picked Veruca as Vector’s first name – it uses JKR’s penchant for alliteration and doesn’t get used much. I also sorted Tonks into Gryffindor.

Anyone recognize where I nicked the phrase “a little monster in her man” from?