Chapter 14: Admissions

Disclaimer: All things Harry Potter belongs to JKR.

A/N: Many thanks to my beta, Southern_Witch_69!

Harry leaned against the wall of the alley, biting his thumbnail despite the blood from his continuous nibbling. He wanted to pace, and he wanted a fag. But he could neither smoke nor pace due to his Disillusioned form. He was undercover, watching Cho.

Three months had passed since the last woman had been taken, and the Aurors in Italy had lessened the security on this particular project, thinking the killer had either stopped or moved on.

Kingsley was getting antsy for him to return to England. He talked him into letting him stay awhile longer and was even considering taking a vacation or an extended leave until the mess was wrapped up.

Harry couldn't bear the thought of leaving without Cho, especially while there was still a slight chance that she could be in danger. He doubted very seriously that the killer had stopped completely. It was more likely that he just hadn't found the right type of woman he wanted to take. As far as he was concerned, the killer would likely be more dangerous since it had been so long.

Harry had to grin despite his concerns as he watched Cho walking. A few blokes had mistaken her for the prostitute she was pretending to be, offering her Galleons for various acts. She blushed every time. Harry had started to wonder if she'd only been with Cedric before him.

He'd convinced her to go out to dinner with him a few times during the last three months. They were getting much closer, but she was still holding back. The last time they'd gone to dinner, she'd let him come in for a nightcap when they'd returned. She'd almost given herself to him again, but had stopped him before things could get that far.

God, how he wanted her. He'd always found her attractive, even without really knowing her, but lately, as he'd gotten to know her better, he found that she could really be the one for him.

As much as Ginny and he had had in common, he and Cho had even more. She better understood the demands of his work and the odd hours he occasionally had to put in.

Watching her walk around like that was creating some pretty awesome fantasies. He briefly wondered if she'd play them out with him once he convinced her that they belonged together. He shook his head to get his mind back on the job where it needed to be and out of the bedroom where it didn't.

He stood up straighter when an extremely nervous man approached Cho. Thanks to the newly improved, invisible extendible ear, Harry could hear what he was saying.

"How much?"

Harry watched as Cho looked him up and down and noticed when she had the same thoughts as he did: I think this could be him! Is he an American?

Clearing her throat, she told him, "Depends on what all you're wanting. What would you like?"

The man leered at Cho. "Everything."

Smiling broadly as she played her part, Cho said, "Oh, everything, is it? Well then, that's going to cost you."

"No need to worry about money. I have plenty." The man began looking around nervously, wiping his sweaty upper lip and running his hands through his hair. He reminded Harry of a junkie in need of a fix, and in a way, he supposed the man was.

"All right..." Cho hesitated. It seemed that she didn't know where to go from here.

"We... we can go to my place. It's not far, and I live alone." When Cho seemed reluctant, the man said, "I'll pay you extra."

Harry knew what Cho was thinking. She was told under no circumstance to go anywhere with this man other than the assigned room.

"Why don't we just get a room in that motel there?" She pointed to the one across the street. "The rates are reasonable."

The man looked like a scared rabbit. Looking left and right again and seeming to come to a decision, he grabbed Cho roughly by the arm and began to drag her to the alleyway next to where they'd been talking.

"What are you doing?" Cho demanded.

Harry came off the wall and ran towards them, still Disillusioned. Before he could get there, he heard sounds of a scuffle, what sounded like a kick, the unmistakable sound of a slap, and then, "Harrr!" The last thing he heard was the pop of someone Disapparating.

"CHO!" he yelled as he canceled the spell so that he would be visible. "Okay, no problem. She has her tracking device on. I can find her directly."

As he ran down the alley, he heard something crunch under his foot. Looking down, he found the tracking device that Cho had been wearing around her neck.

"BLOODYFUCKINGSONOFAWHORE!" he screamed. People were stopping at the entrance, looking to see if they could find out what was going on.

"All right down there?" someone asked.

"Leave off!" Harry yelled, trying to get his anger under control so that he could think of what he needed to do.

"Damn it. I knew it! I knew something would happen. But does anyone listen to me? No!" Running his hands through his hair, he walked further down the alley and Apparated back to Italy's Auror Headquarters.

~~~

Cho woke with a splitting headache, highly confused. Groaning, she tried to get up, but her body wouldn't cooperate. "What the..."

She tried moving her arms and then realized that she was chained to something. "What's going on? Where am I?" Suddenly, things started coming back to her. The nervous man. The alleyway. The fight. The Apparation... "Oh, God! No"

"Ah, I see you've finally woken, Chantel!"

Cho jerked. "Wh-where am I?"

"Why, you're home of course. I knew you wouldn't stay gone for long. You never could."

He slowly walked towards her and violently grabbed her hair. She gasped when he raised a knife and cut off a chunk of it. Rubbing it over his crotch, he said, "Do you remember when you had your mouth around my cock and all of this lovely black hair would tease me?" He shivered in anticipation. "Soon."

He held up a foul smelling cloth and lowered it towards her face. "Don't, please! It...it gives me a horrid headache." God, don't let him put me back to sleep. He could do anything to me then...

He chuckled, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. "I have to go out for a bit. Need some... supplies. I wouldn't want you to try anything while I'm not here, Chantel, like you did the last time. I would have to punish you again, and we've just got started." He bent his head and kissed her mouth. "I won't be long," was the last thing Cho heard before total darkness overcame her.

~*~

Ginny stood on the Quidditch fields, listening to the coach give the instructions. Practice for the upcoming year had started a month before. She sighed. It'd been three months since the World Cup.

Oliver was still so angry at her, thinking she'd chosen Harry over him. It seemed like nothing she did or said convinced him otherwise. Damn it, she missed her carefree, fun-loving husband. She missed sex with him as well, as he'd not touched her since then either.

"Wood! Wood!" the coach yelled. "WEASLEY!"

Ginny jumped and was startled from her thoughts. When she looked up, everyone on the team was watching her. Her face reddened from the embarrassment. "Sorry, thought you meant Oliver."

"This won't do, won't do at all," the coach said. "Get her a new jersey; one with Weasley on the back."

"NO!" Ginny screamed, louder than she'd meant to. "I mean, I'm not Weasley now, right? Wood is my name."

"No, it's too distracting. Two Woods on one team could cause too much confusion, especially during games. We need the person we are speaking of to act without any hesitation." The coach snapped her fingers at the assistant coach. "Make haste! I want to get the practice underway!"

Ginny looked up at her husband to find him smirking at her. Prat! He probably asked her to do that. Something has got to give!

Suddenly, she heard, "Hi, Oliver!" from the stands and turned to see those three witches watching her husband with unabashed admiration. "We missed you while you were in Italy! We wanted to personally congratulate you!"

When Oliver sent them a charming smile and said, "Thanks, ladies! We usually go for drinks after practice..." Ginny seethed. What does he think he's doing?

"Oliver?" Ginny called out to get his attention.

"What?" he asked irritably.

"Could I speak with you a moment?"

"No."

Ginny actually growled. "Listen here, Wood! I'm tired of..."

"Okay, here you go, Weasley. Put this on," the coach commanded as she handed Ginny her new jersey.

Ginny looked down at the jersey in her hands and then up at her husband. Smirking at him as he'd done earlier, she simply took off the jersey she had on to replace it with her new one. It was done very quickly, but there were still a couple of catcalls coming from the men in the stands who enjoyed watching the women practice.

Oliver mocked bowed to her and then started practice as if he didn't care at all about what she'd just done.

Ginny fumed and threw herself into the practice, wanting it to be over with as soon as possible.

Ginny Disapparated to her and Oliver's rooms as soon as the coach called an end to their practice and let them know what time to be there the next morning.

Stripping quickly, she ran a hot bubble bath and sank in, wanting to be done before her husband got home. She was sitting on the bed reading when he returned home drunk three hours later.

"Where have you been, Oliver?"

He shrugged. "You heard me say we were going for drinks after practice."

The room was dim, so she couldn't see the expression on his face. "I know, but I thought..."

"Thought what? That because you didn't go I wouldn't go?" He laughed. "Well, I no longer care what you do or don't do."

He walked past the bed to go to the shower, and she smelled perfume on him. God, how cliché!

She stopped the door before it could close and walked in behind him. That's when she spotted lipstick...two different shades...on his jersey.

"Gin, I need a shower, if you don't mind. Would you leave, please?"

"What is that on your jersey?" she asked, pointing to his chest and ignoring his request.

Oliver swayed a bit and looked down. "Looks like lipstick." He shrugged. "I'm tired and need a shower." He looked at the door pointedly.

"How did you get lipstick on your jersey, Oliver? And why do you reek of perfume?"

Sighing, he started removing his clothes. "Must've been the groupies hanging all over me."

She looked into his eyes then, her chest so tight it felt like it would burst. "I see. And you and the rest of the team stayed in a bar and drank for three hours, knowing we have to start practice at six?"

"No, not the rest of the team, just me," he informed her.

"You drank alone?"

He raised an eyebrow. "No."

"I see," she said again. "You're punishing me, aren't you?" Ginny accused.

Oliver leaned against the wall and folded his arms across his bare chest. "What would I have to punish you for?"

"Technically? Nothing. But you are punishing me for what you think was a lie, but it's not! I just simply didn't tell you that he would be in Italy!"

"Lie, omission, same thing to me," he said, waving a hand in the air. "It all boils down to the fact that...for some reason...you didn't want me to know. You didn't trust me enough to tell me. And I'm not punishing you...you chose Harry. Live with it."

"I did not choose him!" Ginny said, stomping her foot in her frustration. "I just refuse to say I'll never see him again, that's all. He's family, Oliver!"

Pushing himself off of the wall, Oliver turned on the shower and stripped off his trousers and boxers. "Well, there you have it. It was no choice, not really then, eh?" He started to get in, but turned to his wife. "When this year is over, I hope you and Potter will be very happy together because I won't play second to him or anybody else."

After he got into the shower, Ginny covered her face to hide her tears and turned and walked out of the bathroom, gently closing the door behind her. When she was in the bedroom, she quickly dressed. Oliver never heard her leave.

~*~

Ron walked into his empty house and sighed, laying down the briefcase he used to bring work home in on the table. He'd left work early due to George telling him he was scaring their customers away with his scowling.

Ever since that blasted trip to Ireland, Luna had been distant and cold.

She only spoke to him if he spoke to her first. She still slept in his bed; he supposed that her room was too cold for her to move back in, but she made sure to stay on her side and far away from him. The growling of his stomach reminded him of the dinners she used to have waiting on him when he returned home.

He looked around. The house was clean enough, but it no longer felt like a home, the way she'd made it feel. He buried his face in his hands. What was wrong with him?

He felt so confused and alone. On the one hand, he was glad that Luna seemed to be distancing herself from him because it would make things easier when their year was up. On the other, his heart ached every time he thought of her actually leaving when their year was up.

And when he thought of her with another man...

No, there was nothing else for it. There was somebody he needed to speak to, and he was going to do it today...right now.

He walked out the door and Disapparated.

~~~

Hermione was sitting behind her desk, furiously researching cases. The mob outside the Ministry was escalating and starting to become violent. She wanted to end this case once and for all. She jumped when she heard a knock on her door.

"Come in," she tentatively called out, knowing that no mob member would be allowed in this area of the Ministry. Her mouth opened wide when Ron walked in. "Ron! What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you, Hermione. Can you spare a few moments?" he asked, looking at all of the papers she had strewn across her desk.

"Yes, I can for you." She smiled warmly at him. Gesturing to the chair in front of her desk, she told him, "Have a seat."

He nodded and then stopped mid seat. Her hand movements brought his attention to her hands. He nodded with his head. "Is that what I think it is?"

Hermione blushed, realizing that he'd seen her wedding band. "Um... Yes. Well, Severus gave this to me for Christmas."

Ron scowled and then thought of the locket that he'd given to Luna that he'd not seen around her neck one time. "Anyway," he said, as if it didn't matter, "I just need to ask you one question."

"All right."

"Why?"

Hermione didn't even pretend she didn't understand what he was talking about. Sighing deeply, she softly said, "Ron, you know that our relationship was changing. I could blame it on the wine, but that was only part of it. We'd stop thinking of one another romantically, and I suppose I just wanted to be sure."

"But couldn't you have talked to me about things? Did you have to go behind my back?"

"I thought about talking to you, and tried a couple times, but always chickened out. You would've argued with me."

"Of course I would have! I love you, Hermione. I thought you loved me, too."

"I do! That hasn't changed! What has changed is the way in which I love you. If you're going to be honest, you'll admit that you changed in that regard as well."

"What about your husband? Do you love him?"

"That's personal, Ron, and between my husband and myself."

"I can't help but feel like you betrayed me, and I can't seem to get past that. It's messing up things with..." He suddenly looked up as if he felt he'd said too much.

"Luna loves you. I do know that. She has for years. Please don't compare what we had to that. Don't compare her to me because it's not the same thing."

"Yeah, so you say. How can I be sure that she won't leave me high and dry...like you did?" He looked her in the eyes, and she lowered her head, feeling horrible.

"I'm so sorry! I really should have come to you; I know that now. But don't let my short-comings ruin what happiness you can find with Luna."

Ron continued to stare, asking her, "Saying that doesn't bother you at all, does it?"

"Actually, yes, it does. My feelings for you didn't go away just like that," she said as she snapped her fingers. "But they're not strong enough to last a lifetime. Can you honestly say that yours for me are?"

"I wanted to believe so."

"Yes. But does wanting to believe make it true?"

Hermione looked into Ron's eyes and placed her hand on top of his. "Do you love Luna, Ron?"

"That's personal, Hermione, between my wife and myself," Ron mimicked, using her earlier words, but with a smile.

"Touché," she said. "Just let me say this. These marriages only have to last a year. What you need to decide is if you want yours to end when that year is up."

"Will you tell me one thing? Do you want yours to end?"

"Don't base your decision with Luna on mine with Severus. It wouldn't be fair."

"I'm not doing that!" he said. "I know things are over for us regardless. I was just curious."

"No, I don't want my marriage to end."

"Then that answers my questions as to whether or not you love your husband."

"Perhaps it does. But as I said, don't base any of your decisions on mine, okay? You and Luna both deserve better."

Ron stood up, walked around her desk and hugged her. They weren't totally back to where they used to be before... well, before she'd cast that charm, but at least he had some much needed answers. "Goodbye, 'Mione. I'll miss you."

"I'm not going anywhere, Ron! We can still..."

"Be friends?" He smiled sadly. "Maybe someday," he told her and left.

He'd figured out two things while talking with Hermione. One, though she'd hurt him terribly, he wasn't truly in love with his ex-fiancée, and two, he very possibly could be falling for his wife. Now all he had to do was woo her back.

He only hoped it wasn't too late.

Shortly after Ron had left, Hermione's co-worker came running into her office. "Hermione! Come quick!"

"Why? What's wrong?"

"It's that mob! They're becoming physically violent!"

Quickly making sure that she had her wand, Hermione ran outside. Before she could say or do anything, she felt blood splatter all over her chest.

~*~

Severus had been pacing in his room for thirty minutes. It was eleven o'clock at night, and Hermione was not home. She'd not Flooed or owled to inform him that she'd be so late. Where the devil is she?

He'd tried Flooing her at work already, but to no avail. She was clearly not there, so where could she have gone?

Severus thought back to the argument after the Malfoys' reception. Things were still slightly awkward between them, but not overly. Slowly but surely, the awkwardness was fading away.

She'd been more hurt than Severus had realized. Mostly because she'd felt that he'd abandoned her. Perhaps he had, but it had been unintentional. He'd just never took the time to think about the fact that she'd had no friends there as he'd had, though he now understood that he should have. Not only had she not had friends there, but those that had been there had never liked her during school, and for her, the feelings were mutual.

It was sometimes hard for him to remember that she'd not really been out of school that long and that some of the prejudices were still strong.

Severus shook his head. Look how long Lucius and Narcissa had been out, and yet they still held fast to old prejudices. He knew that they'd thought they were helping him. When he'd received that Ministry letter, he'd made his feelings about Hermione very clear. It was just that his feelings were not the same as they'd been then.

Severus went to his liquor cabinet and poured himself a shot of Ogden's, downing it in one gulp. Slamming the glass on the table, he said, "This is ridiculous!" He went to the door and flung it open, almost knocking over a blood-covered Hermione in his haste.

"Hermione! Oh, my God! You're hurt. Here, let me see," Severus demanded, pulling her inside and running shaking hands all over her.

"Severus..."

"Where's the wound? I can't find it!"

"Severus, stop! It's not..."

"God, with the amount of blood on you, I'm surprised you can even walk! Where is the fucking wound?" In his impatience, Severus grabbed the front of her robes and ripped them down the middle.

Hermione took his face in her hands. "SEVERUS!"

He stopped his searching and looked into her eyes. "Hermione?"

"It's not my blood."

Severus sank to his knees on the floor in his relief. "What's happened?"

"The mob I've been telling you about took action today. This," she said, sweeping a hand over her, "is apparently werewolf blood."

Severus slowly stood, running a still shaking hand through his hair. "Where have you been?"

"Susan Bones was badly hurt. I went with her to St. Mungo's."

"Is that so? And you never once thought to owl or Floo me to let me know?"

"No, I didn't think. I was so worried about Susan. She's still not out of the woods. I told..."

"You are over five hours late, you come home covered in blood, and you never once considered I may be worried about you? You never considered me at all, did you?"

Hermione looked down, abashed. "Well... I... That is to say, I didn't... Severus, I'm sorry. My only concern at that moment was if Susan was going to live or die."

"Funny. I had the same concerns here regarding you."

'You're absolutely right. I should've contacted you. Please, let's not fight about this right now. I desperately need a bath."

"Why did you not Scourgify yourself?" he asked, disgusted with the entire situation, but most of all himself for being so worried about her when she'd obviously not given him a moment's thought.

"I tried to. This blood is spelled somehow to withstand that. I washed what I could off at St. Mungo's, but it wasn't enough. Severus," she said quietly, noting the look on his face, "please don't be angry with me over this."

"I was worried sick!" he admitted. "The more time passed, the more terrible things I imagined happening to you. And then when you walked in here, covered with blood..."

Hermione ran to him and threw herself into his arms. "I'm so, so sorry. A thousand times sorry. I never meant to worry you so. I didn't think I could."

He gently pushed her back. "Explain that."

"As I was leaving to come home, I knew you would likely wonder where I'd been, but I never thought you to be this distressed over me."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Looking into his eyes, she challenged, "Why would you be?"

"Because, you silly twit, I l..."

Severus was interrupted by a frantic pounding on the door. "Hermione! Professor Snape! Let me in!"

Hermione groaned. She whispered, "Not now, Harry!" Looking up at her husband, she said, "You..." as she moved her hand in a circular motion, wanting him to continue.

Severus sighed in relief at the sudden interruption. Good Lord! What had he been about to admit to her? He shook his head. "See what that dunderhead wants! I can't think straight with all of that pounding!"

Hermione grabbed her robes, pulling them together, and then went to the door and threw it open, her agitation obvious in her face. "What is it, Harry? I thought you were in Italy?"

"Hermione! What's happened to you? Why are you covered in blood? Did he hurt you?"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Harry! No, he did not. It happened at work, and it's not my blood. Now, it's late. What's wrong?"

Harry came inside and walked over to Professor Snape. "Sir, I need to ask you something. Can you make a tracking potion with this?" He held up a strand of long, black hair.

"Indeed, I can."

"Why?" Hermione asked. "What's going on, Harry?"

"Do you remember the serial killer case I've been working on?" Hermione nodded that she did. "Well, he's taken Cho, and the tracking device she had around her neck was torn off in the struggle. I have to find her," he said desperately, looking at Snape. "Will you help me?"

When he didn't answer, Hermione looked at her husband, pleadingly. "Severus?"

Severus sighed. "Yes, of course. Hand me the hair, and I will get started."

The last thing Severus saw before walking to his lab was his wife hugging Potter, assuring him that everything would be all right."

A/N: Well, a lot going on here. Emotions are running high...