Do Unto Others...

I think Ginny's finally talking to me again. She's been very funny lately. I hope I didn't say and or do anything dumb around her at the party the other night. It would be the least of my problems lately.

I don't know why we're meeting up at the Burrow. I guess there is always a reason for some big Weasley reunion. I am really not in the mood for it tonight. I haven't been in the mood for anything besides taking long hot baths in an attempt to burn myself clean followed by a big swallow of Dreamless Sleep potion. I really need to talk to Harry about Dolohov being out of Azkaban, but I can't come up with an explanation of why I know this, besides telling him the truth, which is not going to happen. I wonder if I can Obliviate myself?

I am never drinking again. Never. I need therapy. I should ask Ginny. She said it really helped her after the 'Diary Incident'. Hmm, I think I'll wear jeans and a jumper. I don't feel like dressing up for the Weasley men. I'm right out of the mood for men right now. Do they have wizarding convents? Oops. Should not have looked in the mirror. I'm looking mighty rough. Ugh. I will be single and alone forever. Plus, I am probably now harboring some horrible disease.

***

"So Hermione... It looks like you had a good time at the party the other night."

"I don't want to talk about it, George." He and Charlie are snickering. Bastards.

"Actually, I'm proud of you, Hermione. I was afraid you'd be a stick in the mud forever."

"Don't worry about him. He's just being a git." Charlie is doing the understanding big brother arm around my shoulders thing. Any moment now, he's going to drop his hand and cop a feel of my butt. And... there it is. "Besides, there's nothing to worry about. Justin passed out before you could do anything you'd regret."

Uh, sure, Charlie, now head on back to that magical world of sunshine and rainbows you've been living in. Have Harry introduce you to Neville before you leave. I try not to make a face. Crap. George noticed. I glare at him as threateningly as possible. Don't say a word. Not one word. I. Will. Kill. You.

It looks like he got the hint, but I have a bad feeling, he won't be forgetting this. Note to self: Do not be alone with George for, let's see, all eternity.

"Dinner's ready!" Thank you, Molly. You are my new best friend.

I really need to stop saying that.

I hustle in the kitchen and sit down between Harry and Luna, far, far away from George. Luna is making that face at me again. I know what it means, and I am not falling for it this time. I am not being set up with her distant cousin or friend from work or anyone. No more blind dates. I am now devoutly celibate, as well as devoutly sober.

"So Harry, what is the story with the Ministry releasing Death Eaters?" Thank you, Charlie! Harry sighs and looks a bit weary. Everyone is looking at him, so I'm not too conspicuous.

"Well, a group in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement has been rallying for some sort of reform for prisoners instead of leaving them in Azkaban for the rest of their lives. Without Dementors to guard the place, it's putting a strain on the wizarding staff there. They are testing a few prisoners now."

"I heard Dolohov and Avery were among those released." I shudder at the name. Please let no one have noticed.

"Guess who's funding the project?"

"Malfoy." I whisper. Harry nods at me. I am not hungry anymore. I need to go home and take another bath. The rest of the table bursts into discussion about it.

"So far, nothing's happened except Dolohov showed up at St. Mungo's with a nasty bump on the head." I laugh. Oops, too loud. They're all looking at me.

"Sorry, that's just funny; serves him right though," I finish lamely. I prod my potatoes a bit until Harry starts up again.

"I know, he wouldn't say where he got it," I snicker, but on the inside this time. "It just means more work for us Aurors with all the vigilantes." Gee, sorry about the extra paperwork Harry. It was worth it.

"They just let them go?"

"Yes, but it's more complex than that, the Ministry agents performed the Eximo Curse on them." I drop my fork.

"The Eximo Curse?" Ron looks clueless, as usual.

"That is awfully Dark magic! And irreversible! I can't believe the Ministry is doing that!"

"Relax, Hermione, these are Death Eaters we're talking about."

"Ron, she has a point. We know Avery and Dolohov are guilty, but what if they had done it to an innocent man like Sirius? It's as bad as the Dementor's Kiss." Arthur looks grim. He hasn't put much faith in the Ministry since the Muggleborn Registration Act.

"Any of you mind explaining what the Eximo Curse is?" Ron looks at me like I am his personal dictionary. Oh wait, I am.

"It releases your magic." I shudder to think about it. "It makes you a Squib." Everyone goes silent for a moment. I know living as a Muggle would be survivable, for me at least. I would still be heartbroken to live without magic. It has to be the ultimate humiliation for those Death Eaters.

Ginny elbows Harry in the ribs. Now that I think about it, she has been suspiciously quiet. She just winked at me. I smile back. I have no idea what she's grinning about, surely she doesn't know... No. Then again, she has been funny lately. Please, please don't let Ginny know that I... Yuck, I can't even think about it.

"I did want to talk to you all tonight about better news than Death Eaters." Harry's standing now. "Ginny and I have an announcement to make." Oh. Great. Merlin. That can only be one thing. I gape at Ginny. She winks at me again. "Ginny's pregnant!"

The room explodes with noise, except me. I'm in shock. This is it. I am officially going to be an old maid. No husband, no kids, just me and a hundred cats. And venereal disease.

***

Okay, I felt a little bad about running out on Harry and Ginny last night. I owled Harry and told him that I would take him to lunch today. I head up to Harry's office early since I got done at St. Mungo's a bit sooner than expected, but with the news that I am completely healthy, just stupid.

"Level Two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services." Blah, blah, blah, thanks, now open the doors. The sharp pounding of rain on the magical windows echoes in the empty hallway. Magical Maintenance must be thrilled with the new prisoner reform policy too.

"Hi, Hermione!"

"Hey, Ernie," I stop at his cubicle; it's immaculate. So very Ernie.

"Great news about Harry and Ginny, huh?"

"Yes, I can't believe it. I guess we're all grown up now."

"Never." I smile. I know it's lame, but his comment makes me feel better. I glance down the row.

"I wouldn't go talk to Harry yet; he's got company." Huh? I raise an eyebrow or at least try. I really should check that out in a mirror sometime. Ernie catches an interdepartmental memo that swoops down to his desk. "Sorry, just a minute, Hermione." Ernie starts scribbling a note. Hmm, Ernie's Quidditch calendar reminds me: I need to write to Viktor. I wonder if he's still with that beater from the Holyhead Harpies. Wait a minute, I don't care. Life of celibacy, remember?

"Well, well, well, look who we have here." No. No way. Not that voice. Fuck. It's him. Don't look. Do not look up. I look. Damn. Antonin Dolohov. Why can't he have the common decency to disappear off the face of the planet like one night stands are supposed to? Okay. Be strong, be cool, you are surrounded by Aurors, you can do this. "You're looking remarkably clear-headed today." Ugh, he had to go there. I smile, heavy on the sneer. Ernie is staring, I can feel it, but I don't drop eye contact with Dolohov. It was not just a trick of the firewhiskey, he is easy on the eye. Stop. Don't think that.

"I don't think my head has ever been an issue."

His grin just got wider. Git. He steps in closer. Damn, he smells good too. No! He's leaning towards me, hardly an inch away. Ernie, you are the worst Auror in history for letting this happen. Get off your pompous ass and stop him.

"Miss me, love?" His whispered breath makes me shiver. Is it possible to get a body transplant? This one and I are having a serious moral disagreement. He chuckles and leans back. I can feel my blood boiling. This is so embarrassing.

"Hermione!" Thank you, Harry! He looks at my flushed face, then to Dolohov, then to Ernie who is staring at us open mouthed. "Is something going on here?" I shake my head no and pray that Dolohov doesn't want our little tryst to be known any more than I do.

"I was just saying hello to the infamous Miss Granger here. I'll be on my way." He winks at me. "I would hate to not be home should anyone... come knocking." I clench my fists. Must. Not. Punch. Jackass. Harry's looking at him funny, but he just throws me a naughty smile and walks out. Harry's looking at me now. Oops, I guess I was staring.

"Are you all right?" Hmm, no. I am all sorts of not all right. Forget therapy; I'm going to check myself into St. Mungo's. Maybe I can get a bed next to Lockhart.

"I'm fine, just surprised to see him, that's all." Good one, Hermione, technically not a lie. "Let's get some lunch."

***

This is nice; I haven't had a long chat with Harry in ages. We laugh about the frightening reality that he is going to be somebody's father and speculate when Ron is going to get Luna pregnant and what a strange child that is going to be. He neatly avoids the subject of my love life, or lack thereof. He really is my best friend. I tell him about the project I have been working on in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Rather, the one I was working on before I took the week off to try to drown myself in my bathtub. It was almost the perfect lunch, until...

"So Williamson decides to go on vacation, and I get stuck babysitting everyone's favorite Death Eater."

"Hmm." If I don't say anything, maybe he'll change the subject.

"I have to supervise him shopping in Muggle London this afternoon. It's ridiculous." Maybe not. I admit my curiosity is killing me.

"Shopping?"

"Yes, now that he's officially a Squib, he has to fit in with the Muggles; and since Williamson bailed, Proudfoot's busy with Avery, and Ernie's useless when it comes to Muggles..." News flash Harry: Ernie's useless at a lot of things. "...I get the happy task of teaching him how to get along in Muggle society. He's been given Muggle Studies texts to study. It'd be comical if it wasn't me having to play nanny." So that is what he had all the books for...

I don't like how Harry is looking at me.

"Why don't you come with me after lunch? I know this is your week off, but please, please don't make me spend the whole afternoon with him alone." He's making a very sad face. Of all the things to ask. Why me, why? "Please Hermione, think of the Muggles." That was low. It's true; who knows how much trouble he could get up to? Um, ethically I should say yes. That's right, because there is no other reason I should say yes. None.

"You will not stop owing me until the end of time."

"Thank you so much!"

What in the name of Merlin's uncle did I just agree to?

***

I could be at home in front of the fire with a good book. But no, I'm here. In a Muggle furniture shop. With my so-called best friend and my own personal Undesirable Number One. Instead of looking at sofas and sitting on them to try them out, he pokes them, then stands back and scowls when they don't do anything interesting. Sigh.

"I don't see what the big difference is between this and wizard furniture."

"There isn't one. The point of this exercise is for you to prove you can function in the Muggle world. So try not to be conspicuous and watch your vernacular." Oh no. I sound like my mother. He gives me an odd look. Apparently I sound like his mother too.

My back is killing me; we've been wandering around for hours, explaining crosswalks and telephone etiquette. It's surreal. He's managed to find a modern sofa in blood red. Of course. Way to be understated. I look around for a salesperson. Aren't they usually leeches in places like this? Hmm. It is a good color for him. I bet he looked a treat in those Durmstrang robes. Crap, I'm doing it again.

"Oh, look at that!" A woman near the front window is pointing at an owl fluttering outside. Harry bursts out the door and grabs the message from the poor bird while I pull my wand out of my pocket and throw a quick Obliviate at the lady.

"So, that's an example of what not to do in front of Muggles." Yeah. Pretty much. Glad you saw that. Harry is rushing back inside. He looks a mess.

"Ginny's sick; they are taking her to St. Mungo's. I have to go." Ginny? She's always healthy as a horse. Please, please don't let something be wrong with the baby.

"I'll take care of this, just go."

"Thanks, Hermione." He gives me a peck on the cheek and runs out of the store.

"You'll take care of this? What am I, a boggart?" I roll my eyes. He pats the seat next to him. I suppose I could rest my feet for a minute. Wow, this couch is really comfortable. He's smirking at me, but I just ignore him. This is not a situation I had been looking forward to being in. A part of me, a deep dark part, feels sorry for him. I'll have to remember that for my therapy appointment.

"Admit it, you want to hate me," his voice is low and dangerous, "but you don't." The heat of his breath gives me goosebumps. This should not be happening. He leans over, arms spread, effectively caging me on the couch. I look away, but he grips my chin and turns my face toward him. Not good. I should resist, shivering when his hand moves to the nape of my neck. I should flinch when his thumb brushes my cheek. I should lean back when he brushes his lips against mine.

But I don't.

He's kissing me so softly I can hardly believe he is who he is, and he's doing it so well I don't care. I feel my nerve endings tingle with delight. The most frightening part is how natural it feels. This shouldn't be...

"May I help you?" Great. Now a salesman shows up.

Dolohov stands up immediately to shake his hand. The salesman sends him a knowing wink which neither even pretends to hide from me. It's official. Magic or Muggle, all men are pigs.

I stay seated. I think I may do something I regret if I get up...check that, I may do another thing I regret if I get up. What is happening to me? I can't even blame alcohol on this one. I peek through my eyelashes to see him staring, but continue to pretend the dirt under my fingernails is fascinating.

"Actually, it looks like I've found what I'm looking for."

"A fine choice, sir."

***

I have to admit it. I am starting to like this sofa. We've been kissing on it for roughly ten minutes now. Really. Just kissing. I know. Weird. I can feel how hard he is, so that is not the problem. I can't explain it, but it's very, very good.

"Hermione." It sounds so strange to hear him breathe my name.

"Hmm."

"Why are you so nice to me?" He strokes his fingers along the scar on my chest.

"I don't know." Well, I know I've lost my damn mind, but the truth is I've given up. I'm tired of being at odds with myself. It isn't just me. My future therapist is going to have a field day. "Why aren't you a Muggle-torturing fiend anymore? Or are you?" His expression is stony, eyes fixed on a distant point. He doesn't answer immediately. "I envy them now." He lowers his gaze to me. "The Muggles don't know what they're missing." I brush his cheek with my hand. I don't know what made me do that. Compassion? He covers it with his own hand, lacing our fingers and smiles. An honest one this time, not saucy or rude. It's nice.

"I spent 19 years in Azkaban, almost your whole life." He gives me a pointed look. Yes, I did less than eloquently tell him my age the other night. "I'll do anything to never go back there again." His eyes glazed over a bit. It was a look I had seen on Sirius a time or two. "It's no excuse, but I did what I did to survive." I shudder. He immediately starts rubbing circles on my back to comfort me. So many thoughts are rushing around my head, but they fade into oblivion when he plants little kisses and nips on my neck.

He's oh so gently pushing my skirt up. This would almost be romantic if my foot hadn't fallen asleep. Ow, ow. Oops, I accidentally kicked him. I think I know why I like drunken sex better now. Much less awkward if you are totally unaware of your clumsiness. He smiles at me and teases my knickers down. I undo his trousers. I am so ready for this. Past ready. I shake my knickers off my ankle and readjust so I'm straddling him. He pulls me in for a kiss while I work him out of his pants. I gasp when his fingers curl into me.

He may be a Squib now, but those fingers can sure do magic.

I'm whimpering; I know it. It's embarrassing, but what he's doing feels so good. I'm rubbing his cock. I really want more though.

"I want you." He raises a brow. I should ask him how he does that. Oh... "Now, please!" He smirks and draws out of me. His hands grip my hips hard. It would hurt if I wasn't so impatient for him. I can feel the tip of his sex at my entrance. I squirm to get more of him, but he's holding me tightly in place. Ugh, I can't stand the tease. I'm desperately wet for him at this point. I finally look up at his face. That's what he's been waiting for. With our eyes locked he pulls me down sharply. It's unbelievable. The intensity is spectacular. I can't look away. I don't think I've really looked anyone in the eyes during sex before. He fills me so completely and so naturally, I can hardly breathe. I rise up a bit and rock back down. His hands help me keep a rhythm. Oh, I can't think. I can't look away from his face. I trail my hands down his sides, and he grips harder. His breath comes in gasps, and I know he won't last much longer. Then again, neither will I...

I'm shaking. I'm actually shaking. Wow. He rubs my arms. It's such a simple gesture. I lean forward and kiss him softly. I'm beyond lost. This has to the most insane thing I've ever done in my life, and at the same time it's the most natural. Maybe I don't need therapy. Maybe I just need more of this man's...

There's a sharp knock at the door. We both startle out of our post-coital stupor. I crawl off his lap to grab my wand and cast a quick Scourgify over both of us. There's another knock. I straighten my clothes. He has his trousers up and glances over to make sure I'm ready.

"Dolohov! Are you in there? I'm looking for Hermione." Harry. Dolohov opens the door. I take a deep breath. Crap! It smells like sex and new upholstery in here, and I'm pretty sure Harry will notice one of those smells doesn't belong.

"Orchideous!" A fragrant bouquet bursts from my wand. I conjure a vase for them and set my handiwork on the table. Both men walk toward me, and I get an approving smirk from the older one.

"Ginny and the baby are fine! It was just food poisoning." What a huge relief. I give Harry a big hug. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Dolohov make a quick sidestep over to the couch.

"So, you're all sorted for today?" Dolohov smiles like the Cheshire Cat. Bloody perv. Harry extends a hand to shake. Dolohov leans way forward to take it. That's odd. Why doesn't he just step closer? Harry shrugs off the strange behavior and takes my hand to lead me out of the flat. Dolohov still doesn't move. "I'll speak to you again Friday."

I wish I could say something to him other than a feeble "Bye." His expression tells me the same thing too. He looks down quickly while Harry has his back turned. I follow his gaze. There's a tiny corner of pink fabric poking out from under his shoe.

My knickers.

I cough to cover my laugh. Harry pats me on the back. I sneak a grin at Dolohov and get this warm tingling in my belly, rather different then the usual tingles I get from him, and I don't recognize it. I follow Harry out the door, but when he whips around the corner at the end of the hall, I turn and look back. He's still in the doorway, smiling and watching me. I smile back, and I understand the warm feeling now.

I'm his best friend.