A/N: *skulks in under cover of darkness*

*trips on the curtain, revealing it to be broad daylight outside*

*hisses menacingly at the sunlight*

*flings the chapter in your general direction*

*flees, hissing the entirely way*

xx-Kitten.

Firewhiskey Nights

By Kittenshift17

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

"Okay, you've spent three days invading my bed and refusing to shag me, Hermione," Harry drawled on the fourth morning of waking up with the curly haired witch curled in his arms.

Hermione grumbled, rolling over and burrowing her face into his bare chest, not ready to face the world yet. She'd been refusing to return to her flat because every time she tried, one, the other, or both of the Death Eaters she was avoiding were there. She'd managed to sneak home and avoid the two of them on the second day, but then Dolohov had unexpectedly dropped in – while she was showering, no less – and made himself right at home as though he had as much right to be there as she did.

He'd chased her, naked, from the bathroom to her bedroom when he'd realised she was home and Hermione had been refusing to go home, since. She wasn't afraid of them, of course. She just didn't want to deal with any of it. She'd lost her temper, and she was developing a crush on Rowle that she feared wouldn't take much fanning to ignite it flames of love and eternity. She couldn't handle that when she knew it couldn't last.

So she stayed away.

"Your bed is comfier than mine," Hermione told Harry's clavicle.

"Even when I'm not in it alone, apparently," Harry said good naturedly and Hermione frowned against his chest before lifting her head and peering into his eyes.

She'd come by late last night after forcing herself to go into the office and to dive headfirst into a new research task rather than simply quitting like she'd planned. She needed the distraction if she was going to avoid Rowle, and she especially needed it if she was going to dodge Dolohov's attempts to talk her into his crazy plan.

He'd detailed it to her while she'd run across her flat naked with him pursuing her. He wanted to examine the flames from the curse on her skin when she climaxed because he was determined to cure her.

"Who?" Hermione asked, realising she'd been so tired that she'd helped herself to Harry's bed when he hadn't been alone in it.

Harry jerked his chin toward his shoulder, indicating that she should take a look. She wondered if he knew himself just who he'd brought home. Dimly she recalled that last night had been the Valentine's Ball at the Ministry – she'd refused to attend on principle – and that Harry probably hadn't been very sober before luring a pretty witch into his bed.

Clinging to her best friend, Hermione reached up to peer over his shoulder nosily. Pansy Parkinson was sprawled naked beside Harry, the sheet barely covering her mons, and thus leaving her breasts and torso bare to Hermione's gaze. Bitch had a figure to kill for, Hermione thought in annoyance.

"Morning, Granger," Parkinson said without opening her eyes.

"Parkinson," Hermione replied, unsurprised to find her in Harry's bed again. He'd shagged her a number of times after he and Ginny had broken up. "Thought you and Entwhistle were trying things of for size?"

"Mmmm," Pansy said. "So did I. Yet, here I am."

"You're with Entwhistle?" Harry interrupted, rolling to his back and dragging Hermione with him until she was laying on top of him, both of them all the closer to Pansy.

"Not exclusively," Pansy said. "And I have vague recollections of him telling me he wanted to pursue things more exclusively with…. Mmmm… who was it… someone vile…. Oh, what's her name?"

"Veruca?" Hermione guessed, having recently heard a rumour from her colleague, one of Nott's close friends, that Tobias Entwhistle had been playing the field between Pansy and her younger sister, Veruca.

"The little bitch," Pansy nodded, clearly having known all along that she'd be tossed over for her sister. "Well, good luck to him. She only wants his bank vault. There's nothing else overly attractive about him."

"Except that handsome face and tight body," Hermione pointed out, aware that though their former classmate had been a bigoted ponce, he was lovely to look at.

"It all masks a tiny pecker," Pansy informed them, making no move to hide her nudity.

"Ah, now I see why you're here," Hermione said, very aware of the erection Harry was sporting beneath her. She was just glad she was still in her pyjamas, unlike Harry and Pansy.

"As are you," Pansy said. "I don't expect I've upset any applecarts being here?"

"Nope," Hermione grinned. "Have you had your tits done?"

She reached over and poked one of the other woman's perky breasts, watching it sway ever so slightly.

"All natural," Pansy smirked. "Want to feel?"

She reached for both of Hermione's hands and placed them on her breasts, contracting her hands to have Hermione squeeze them. Hermione knew from more than one morning waking up in bed alongside Harry and Pansy when he'd last been shagging her that the woman swung both ways behind closed doors. In truth, Hermione suspected Pansy had been wanting to lure Hermione into shagging her with Harry. She kind of got the feeling the witch was a little threatened by their closeness, and although she and Harry had never been serious, she didn't like other people to have things she couldn't.

"Very nice," Hermione complimented dryly, huffing when Harry rolled again, turning toward Pansy and dislodging Hermione from on top of him, forcing her to slide even closer to the other witch. Her cheek ended up pillowed on the pureblood girl's boobs and Harry chuckled wickedly from behind her, spooning up behind her and grinding his erection against her bum while his hand slid across Hermione's silk-covered thigh to delve between the sheets and slip between Parkinson's legs.

"Mmmm," Parkinson hummed appreciatively, shifting a little beneath Hermione to accommodate Harry's hand. "Care to play this morning, Granger?"

Hermione turned her head to look at Harry who was still grinding on her. She got the feeling when he met her gaze that he very much wanted her to say yes. She knew he hadn't been joking when he'd said he loved her and that if there was more spark between them, he'd have pursued her. She could also feel exactly how horny he was this morning as the witch under her arched into his hand.

"I wouldn't know what to do," Hermione admitted, frowning at Harry though really, she was speaking for Pansy's benefit.

She'd never slept with another woman. She'd never even kissed another woman. The inclination had never really been there, if she was being truthful. Harry, of course, was very aware of those things because she told him everything.

"You're hardly a virgin," Pansy pointed out, her voice growing husky as Harry fingers grew busy between her legs. "Shagging another girl is easy. You just do all the things you like men doing to you, or wish men would do to you. Don't worry, if I don't like something, I'll be the first to tell you."

Hermione bit her lip, turning away from Harry's quiet contemplation, knowing he wasn't about to say anything to pressure her, one way or the other. He ground against her again, moving her body against Pansy's all the more and Hermione lifted her head to look at the pug-nosed witch.

"You don't have to," Pansy said, her brow furrowing a little when Hermione nibbled her own bottom lip and looked confused. "I won't be offended."

Hermione debated with herself for a long moment. She'd never done this, but she was hardly a stranger to sex. Thorfinn had more than seen to that. Her heart stuttered in her chest at the thought. Thorfinn. Gods, she wanted to crawl back into his bed. And she'd promised herself she wouldn't. She wasn't going to wreck his life with her problems, and she wasn't going to let him wreck hers with his problems, either.

"No," Hermione sighed, shaking her head. "I'd be doing it for the sake of hiding from my problems and thinking about the man sparking those problems, throughout. It wouldn't be fair to either of you."

Pansy sighed as Hermione lifted herself up, twisting into a sitting position and forcing Harry's arm off her.

"Well," Pansy said wistfully. "At least you're honest."

Hermione snorted, running her hands through her hair.

"At least there's that," she said. "Maybe one day."

"When you could have Thorfinn Rowle crawling between your legs again?" Pansy asked. "I don't think so, Granger."

"I can't have him," Hermione said. "He needs to sire a child to keep out of prison – it's a term of his probation. And I can't give him one. The science isn't in my favour, unfortunately."

Hermione was surprised when, beside her, Pansy sat up, contorting herself around a little to hook her chin over Hermione's shoulder and giving her a gentle cuddle.

"I know you're the brightest of the age and all that, Granger," Pansy said quietly. "But magic and science rarely go hand in hand, you know? You might be surprised what a good bit of wand-work can cure. My mother knows a woman – she was told she was barren in her teens, but she went to this witch, and now look. Five daughters. Don't give up just yet, alright? I know Rowle quite well, and I can't believe I'm saying it, but the two of you are actually well matched, now that I think about it. I'll get the witch's name from my mother and owl you, alright?"

Hermione turned to look at the other woman, raising her eyebrows in surprise that she was being kind and that she was offering to help. She'd learned long ago that it was possible to be sexually attracted to someone whilst finding everything about them abhorrent, and she'd begun to believe that must be how Parkinson viewed her.

"I would appreciate that," Hermione said, meeting the other woman's gaze.

"You'll have your army of kids you've secretly been craving, Hermione. You wait," Harry told her, mimicking Pansy and curling around her too, his chin resting on her other shoulder. "'Course, it'd be more fun for everyone if you let me sire them, with Parkinson's help right here. I was a burly quidditch player one, too, you know? Totally your type."

Pansy snorted and Hermione began to laugh before both women turned to look at him.

"Burly?" Pansy teased. "Potter, look at you. You've been skinny since you showed up at Hogwarts. Burly! Ha!"

She dissolved into giggles and Hermione laughed with her.

"Right," Harry growled. "That's it!"

Rolling around Hermione, Harry threw himself at Pansy and rolled across the bed with her, tickling her mercilessly and snogging her soundly at the same time while the other woman squirmed wildly beneath him.

Hermione shook her head, laughing as she rose from the bed and let herself out, leaving the two of them to it and wondering when her life had gotten so strange that her best friend was sleeping with a woman who'd once wanted to hand him off to Voldemort in a sacrifice to save her own skin. She helped herself to the house, stopping in at the library to grab a few books for some light reading and thinking it was about time she went home and faced up to whatever was waiting for her there. Crookshanks would be out of sorts with her, no doubt. And if Rowle or Dolohov were still waiting for her, well, she'd just have to hex them and kick them out. It was her house, after all.

When she reached the Floo, Hermione tucked the pilfered books under her shirt to protect them from the ash of Floo travel, and stepped into the fireplace, calling out for her home address and whooshing away in a roar of green flames.