Chapter 8
October, 2003
Bill was fighting the urge to commit mass murder. His skin was itching, small cuts forming all over his body as it battled itself, the wolf in him trying to surface but lacking the strength to make an appearance. The worst were the ones that always appeared first, on his knuckles, smarting like a hundred paper cuts, and with so much on the line, the pain only increased the rage he was feeling just now. But perhaps worst of all, he hadn't had sex in months, and the lack of an outlet both for his randiness and his anger as the full moon approached was making him downright volatile. Of course, Bill could have found a female companion in town as he had been doing on other jobs, but ever since Hermione had walked back into his life two months ago, he could hardly look at other women. And naturally, as the last bits of the job were finally resolving and he thought it was all over with, the goblins swooped in and messed everything up.
In many ways, Gringotts was an excellent employer. His work was interesting, paid well, and allowed him to travel or not as he chose. Certainly it could be dangerous, but the goblins provided training so rigorous that nobody made it out into the field without being highly qualified. But the bank could also be the bane of his existence, as it was at this particular moment. It had taken another three weeks for him, Hermione, and the other two members of team to finally break through the hundreds of layers of wards and curses that protected the Wizarding Alexandrian Library. It had taken another two weeks to scour the library itself, logging its contents and removing curses from the various books and scrolls where necessary. It was perhaps the longest he had ever been on a job, but when Hermione had finally divulged the truth about her parents and their situation in mid-September, it had been more than worth it to Bill to keep going. Just today, they had finally pinpointed exactly which volumes might possibly have answers, spoken to the supervisor over their site to get permission, and were about to begin studying when some of the most prominent members of the Gringotts board appeared, revoking their access and trying to kick them out.
So Bill was not feeling overly affectionate towards his employers at the moment. This was a wizarding library. They had every right to be there, studying its contents. It was only when the exasperated goblin in front of him, Fleenon, finally explained that they had been subcontracted by the Ministry of Magic to find this place that he realized the gravity of the situation. Hermione, who had been standing beside him, was trembling with rage, but also seemed to register their words. Everything would have to be transported back to Britain, catalogued and studied by experts, and then archived before access would be given to the public. As per the contract the goblins had with the Ministry, no one was allowed to view the contents of the library until then, and breaking goblin-made contracts had serious consequences, even if it was done unknowingly.
When they finally made it back to the surface, with Bill keeping a steadying hand on Hermione's back for most of the way, she all but collapsed into his arms, sobbing. He wrapped his arms around the young witch, desperate to offer what comfort he could. When her tears had finally begun to subside, he murmured a quiet "hold on, love" before apparating them into his tent. Immediately she dropped into what had become her chair over the last number of weeks, and he knelt down carefully beside her, taking her small hand into his much larger one. Finally, after several deep breaths, Hermione blew out a dramatic exhale and scrubbed at her face, conjuring a- what did the muggles call it? A child wipe? No, a baby wipe, he thought, and he watched as she used it to remove the streaks of dirt that had clung on stubbornly through her tears.
"I'm so sorry, Bill. I didn't mean to fall apart on you like that." Hermione murmured. "I'm just so frustrated," she groaned out. "We were so close. The books were right there in my hands and then-"
"-I know, Mione. I know. You don't need to be sorry," he said gently. "You know you're always welcome to fall apart with me." Bill added with a soft smile, and when she finally looked him in the eye he could see the gratitude there, could feel it in the hand that rose to touch his cheek and the quiet way she sighed his name. But then it faded and she was suddenly tearing herself away from him, again.
"I don't know how I would have gotten through these last few months without you but now I've got to go home, and it's going to take months before the Ministry is done with the books-" Hermione was on her feet, pacing and ranting with a wild look in her eye, but Bill followed her and pulled his witch into his arms, cutting off both her path and her words with his body pressed tightly against hers.
"Hermione. Hey," he said sharply when she didn't respond, taking her chin in his hand and forcing her to look him in the eye. "Stay here in the moment with me. All right?" Bill murmured quietly, only letting go when she finally nodded in response. He grabbed her hand and gently lead her over to her chair once more, letting out a heavy exhale, and then took his seat beside her.
"Look. We've had a long couple of months, and we just accomplished something incredible. Let's go out tonight, get a drink, and celebrate. We can deal with everything else tomorrow," he promised. She studied him for a long moment and Bill was starting to think she was going to outright reject him when she finally slumped in her chair, nodding.
"You're right," she said, mustering up a smile. "I'm going to run back to mine and grab a shower, meet you at the same bar? I'll be there at-" she paused and glanced down at her watch. "Eight?" she asked. He simply nodded, watching her carefully as she took a long, fortifying breath, then muttered a quiet "see you soon" before standing and turning on the spot, vanishing into thin air.
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Bill almost couldn't keep his jaw off the floor when he saw her. Just like that first night, Hermione was sitting at the bar waiting for him in another backless sundress, only this time in white. And this time, he chose not to feel guilty when he paused for a moment and stared, drinking in the view. Even from behind she was a vision; curls tamed into a simple but elegant bun at the nape of her neck, a golden chain wrapping delicately around her throat, dropping down her back and then circling again around her slim waist. He suddenly felt as though all his blood was rushing south as he caught sight of one final detail that he had hardly dared to hope for: another peak of red lace at the base of her spine, teasing and tormenting him. The wolf inside him, always loudest close to the full moon like this, was demanding that he rush towards her and stake his claim, and for once he wanted to agree with the lupine instinct. More than one man had wandered a little too close to the witch, taking in her beauty, and the animal was begging to be let out at least a little bit, frighten away the competition.
But Bill was a gentleman, not a brute, so instead of flashing his sharp, elongated canines, he settled for shooting lethal glares at the ones closest to her as he slipped onto the stool beside her. Noticing Hermione already had a daiquiri in front of her, he nodded to the bartender and ordered the same before turning to face her.
"I hope I didn't keep you waiting," he said.
"Not at all, I only got here a few minutes ago," she replied, turning to face him and offering him a smile that would have brought him to his knees had he been standing.
"Good," he grinned wickedly before leaning in to speak huskily in her ear. "Because there's a few too many men close to you for my liking, and I'd hate to see them try to spoil our night." Bill could see the shiver run through her, her eyelids fluttering ever so slightly, and the way she inhaled just a little too sharply. When a beat had passed and she didn't protest his closeness or his possessiveness he knew he had her. He watched her struggle for a reply for a moment, until suddenly she leaned into him, bringing her lips to his ear.
"The only thing that could have spoiled my night was not getting to spend it with you." Hermione breathed, then quickly pulled away, blushing like a schoolgirl. "I- that is- not that I thought you would stand me up, of course!" she scrambled to explain, but Bill just laughed.
"I knew what you meant." He offered her a kind smile, and he could see the relief in her eyes when she knew he had understood her. Just then the bartender appeared with his drink, apologizing for the wait. Bill waved him off, he had been enjoying the conversation with Hermione and he was grateful for any excuse to be with her just a little bit longer. Standing, he gathered his drink, tossed a galleon onto the counter, and gestured towards the booths they had sat in before.
"Shall we?" he asked.
"We shall." She was practically beaming at him, and when she stood from her place at the bar and started to walk away he couldn't help but move quickly behind her, placing a possessive hand at the small of her back and leading her towards a table in the far back corner. He tried valiantly and failed not to run his fingers just a little further down, fingers grazing the red lace and causing a shiver to rush through the witch in front of him, but when she glanced back as if to chastise him he simply fixed on his most innocent expression.
Bill could tell she wasn't buying it for a second, but truth be told he didn't care. He had every intention of telling her his feelings tonight, and dropping a few hints along the way couldn't hurt. So when Hermione sat down in the seat across from him and raised a single brow at him, Bill offered her only a shrug and his most charming smile.
"Something the matter?" the question came out so easy and casual he could tell he instantly had her guessing at whether or not his touch had been an accident. She paused for a moment, studying him, before shaking her head.
"Nothing at all."
"Alright then. If you say so," Bill couldn't help the way his smile was changing into a cheeky grin, but seeing the way she flushed so prettily at what he had implied had him wanting to pump his fist in victory. Everything was going exactly as he had hoped. There wasn't a hint of rejection, just a sweet shyness, as if the thought that he really might find her attractive, might at this very moment be hinting at something more than just friendship, was shocking to her. Deciding he had unsteadied her enough for now, Bill smoothly moved on, drawing her easily into a debate about some of their findings in the library.
Before he knew it nearly three hours had passed, and seeing the exhaustion starting to show on her face he determined that he needed to make his move soon. If she returned to her tent for the night, this would be goodbye for at least a few months. He had already been assigned to a new job in Turkey, and the goblins had made it quite clear that this was not an optional project for him. He was a needed presence there, although of course he wouldn't know why until he arrived. Hermione was heading back to England either tomorrow or the day after, depending on how quickly she could completely pack up camp. She would be returning the gear provided by Gringotts and going fully back into desk-riding mode, but he knew all too well that that sort of clearing out would require her full attention. There would be no time for confessions or long goodbyes.
So when he noticed that a few couples nearby had started dancing in a large open area, someone having conjured a record player and a dance floor, Bill decided the moment was now. Sliding out of the booth he stepped up to her and offered her his hand.
"Dance with me?" his request was met with a rapid shake of the head and another one of the blushes he loved to see.
"I can't dance." Hermione murmured in a quiet voice, as if embarrassed.
"But I can, and I promise I'll have your back the whole time. You have nothing to worry about." Bill promised, offering a gentle smile, and finally after another one of her excruciating pauses she gave a small nod, slipping her own small, surprisingly soft hand into his larger, more calloused one. Immediately he tugged her over to the floor, and when she stood awkwardly for a moment he decided to be a little more direct. He carefully intertwined their fingers where he still had a grasp on her hand, and then reached down to position her other hand on his shoulder. When she had settled into the pose he tugged her closer, circling her waist and splaying his fingers across her bare back, his palm resting once more in a rather possessive gesture in the space where her spine began to curve. Then, slowly, he began to move, nothing fancy or complicated, just simple steps back and forth in time to the music. She followed his lead easily.
"Did I mention already how beautiful you look tonight?" Bill leaned down slightly, all but whispering into her ear. Immediately Hermione began to pull away, blushing and shaking her head.
"You really ought to stop saying things like that." She insisted. "You'll give a girl the wrong idea."
"What wrong idea?" he refused to let go, reeling her back in gently but firmly.
"That you might want... something from them," Hermione hedged, flustered.
"But I do want something from you, Hermione. A lot of somethings, actually." Bill let the words fall casually, but in reality he had just put his entire heart out on a silver platter for her. The only question now was if she would take it or shove it back in his face. In typical Hermione fashion, she didn't do either, choosing instead to ask questions instead of giving a simple answer.
"What kinds of things?" her words were so soft he would have missed them if not for his supernatural hearing. This was the moment he had dreaded, where he wasn't sure how much to offer. He already knew that he loved her, had been falling for her rapidly ever since that first night together in this very bar. But to share so much at once, when he didn't know whether she was only interested in sex or if she might want something more, would change things immediately, one way or another. Either she would be his and the uncertainty would end, or she would refuse him and things would never be the same. But Bill wasn't a coward, and he didn't do things halfway.
"Your mind, for one. You are incredibly brilliant. Your body, for another. I haven't stopped wanting you since the first time we came here together, Hermione. I can't stop thinking about you. I suppose the thing I really want is just...you. All of you." He held his breath, waiting for her response, and all at once he realized they had stopped moving. His declaration had caught them both off guard both with its content and its intensity.
"I- you can't really want all that from me," Hermione looked up at him, shocked.
"And why can't I?"
"Because I'm... I'm not really all that, Bill," the look on her face was so sad it nearly ripped his heart from his chest, but he was suddenly filled with rage as he realized what was going on.
"Did Ronald tell you that?" he didn't need her to answer, the deer-in-the-headlights face she made was enough. He was about to continue speaking when he realized that Hermione's expression wasn't just caused by his words but by the way the other couples around them on the floor were staring. He had spoken louder than he meant to, and the anger in his voice had attracted a lot of attention. Biting back his frustration, he looked back down at the witch in his arms, lowering his voice and asking if it was alright if he Disapparated them back to his tent. At her quick nod, he pulled his wand from his pocket and turned them on the spot, landing once more in his living room. He was having deja vu in the worst way, he realized, as Hermione dropped into her chair, eyes wet with tears, and he was before her in an instant.
"Hermione, love, please don't cry," Bill pleaded. "You have to know that you are absolutely incredible. Ron has always had a habit of breaking others down to make himself feel better," he murmured, taking her hand in his again and pushing away the fear that this encounter would end like the one earlier today, with the girl in front of him disappearing without a trace. "But I swear I will never treat you that way. You would be everything to me. Let me show you." He was begging now, desperate.
"Bill, I... You could find someone so much better. Someone without so much baggage." Bill was going to shred his little brother into pieces when he saw him next, but right now all he could focus on was the fact that she wasn't saying no. It had worked so far, so he decided to press his luck just a little bit further.
"Hermione, love, do you trust me?" he asked tenderly.
"Of course I do." Was her immediate reply.
"Then trust me on this, yeah?"
He tugged her out of her chair, onto his lap, and kissed her.
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Hermione decided right then and there that any kiss she had ever shared with Ron was absolutely nothing compared to this. Bill's lips were warm and soft, and gentle and demanding all at once, overwhelming her, dominating her, and she felt she had no choice but to submit. It was an intense relief to know that the feelings that had been growing like wildfire, completely out of her control, were reciprocated, even though she still feared that he might walk away at any moment.
After that first night in his tent, when they had finally finished their research on the cavern and found a solution, the wizard went in for a hug. Determined to keep things platonic as much as possible, Hermione had stuck out her hand instead, and the awkward handshake they shared had had her apparating out of his place so fast she had nearly splinched herself. Not that she would've minded bleeding out in that moment, embarrassed as she was. But something had changed as the days had gone by. Perhaps it was the fact that the ever-more complicated curses and wards they were running into as they got closer to the Library simply required hours of research that were more easily conducted at Bill's place. Perhaps it was the fact that he had begun to bring her tea exactly as she liked it without asking, or that she had started to make them dinner a few times a week, always making sure to bring him any meat she cooked on the rarer side.
Whatever the reason was, they had begun to fall into an easy routine, and before Hermione knew it she was spending almost every night with Bill, perched in that brown leather armchair, or working in his kitchen, or talking with him in his library as they made a plan for how they would tackle the next days' work. They developed inside jokes, debated topics ranging anywhere from muggle cars to in-depth theories on translations of ancient runes, and slowly, as time went on, began to confide in one another, their relationship evolving rapidly into something far too close for colleagues or even friends. Bill had stopped throwing heated looks her way when she finally admitted one night why she had taken this particular job, sharing the details about her parents and their situation, but as they reached the end of the tunnels and were making their way into the actual Library she had found his eyes following her more than once. And she would be lying if she said that she hadn't started throwing him a few heated looks of her own.
So when he made to pull away, trying to end the kiss on a tender note, Hermione refused to let him go. She reached up, threading her fingers through his hair and tugging him down, bringing his lips back to her own. His low groan in response to her actions would have had her panting were it not for the fact that her breath was currently being stolen from her lungs. Bill's hands began to roam her body, touching and teasing her everywhere and nowhere all at once. His fingers ghosted over her breasts, her nipples, but were gone as fast as they came, moving to the exposed skin of her back and trailing down, down, down, his hands grasping at her arse, tugging at her underwear.
She could feel him hardening against her, the tenting in his pants growing rapidly, and she gasped when he suddenly wound a fist into her hair, baring her neck to him and beginning to rock his length against her center, the feeling intense even through her panties and the thin white dress. Hermione moaned as Bill's tongue and teeth began to work over her neck, sucking at her pulse point, biting gently at her earlobe, marking her over and over again.
"Bill!" his name came out in a quiet gasp as his other hand returned to her chest, teasing her nipples again with light strokes and rough tugs that had her whimpering, completely at his mercy. Realizing suddenly that her hands were still in his hair, she tried to drop one down between them to take his length in her palm. Ron never worried about anything other than getting himself off, and she had become accustomed to doing everything she could to bring her lover pleasure while taking nothing for herself. But Bill wasn't Ron. He seemed to realize almost immediately what she was trying to do, and he broke away for a moment, panting. Before Hermione knew what was happening, he had managed to grab his wand and had Apparated them directly into his bed.
She knew she should stop this, keep things from going too far. She wouldn't be able to please him like his past lovers, she was certain. He had been married to a Veela, for Merlin's sake, creatures that demanded sexual satisfaction but could also give it back tenfold, if they chose. But Bill seemed to have sensed her thoughts, because suddenly he had flipped them so that she was on her back beneath him, his large, warm body caging her in.
"Let me make you feel good, sweetheart," he whispered, the words both a caress and a demand. Hermione knew that she would be furious with herself later, when this was all over and she left him in his bed, disappointed with her performance and perhaps never wanting to see her again. But nobody had touched her like this in so long, and he was everywhere, overwhelming any remaining shreds of common sense she had. All she could manage was a whispered "okay".
Future Hermione be damned, she thought to herself when Bill suddenly vanished her clothing and parted her thighs, pausing only to nip at the sensitive skin just below the apex before diving between them. And then she wasn't thinking anymore, because all she could do was feel. Feel as he suckled her clit, lapped at her entrance, pumping his fingers in and out in a steady rhythm and curling them in just the right spot. She was coming within minutes. When her orgasm had finally subsided, she made to sit up, fully expecting that he would want her to return the favor. She was stunned when, instead, the hand not between her legs reached up and pushed her back down, splaying across her stomach and keeping her in place as he carried on with his ministrations.
It was only after he had managed to wring two more orgasms from her that he finally let up, and Hermione could barely keep her eyes open, sated in a way that she had never felt before. When she looked down at Bill, grinning up at her from between her thighs and looking far too pleased with himself, she suddenly jolted awake. She needed to take care of him now, but when she reached for him he simply shook his head.
"Tonight was just for you, love," he whispered. "Just come sleep in my arms. That's all I need."
And she did.