Title: Her Secret
Author: Keira Marcos
Betas: Ladyholder & Jilly James
Fandom: Harry Potter
Relationship: Harry Potter/Hermione Granger
Genre: Established Relationship, BDSM
Warnings: Mild Angst, a couple of dead gingers, voyeurism, domestic discipline
Summary: Harry makes a discovery about his wife that changes everything.
Had anyone even suggested that his wife was unhappy in their marriage, Harry would’ve laughed in their face. Yet, he’d been walking down a narrow little street just off Diagon Alley when he’d watched her pull up the hood of her cloak and head down Knockturn Alley—a place his lady wife had no business going as far as he was concerned. So, he’d disillusioned himself and followed her. He’d followed her all the way into a seedy little establishment with no sign and blackened windows. And now he was watching her speak with the owner of the place.
“Watch or participate?”
“Watch,” his wife murmured. She pulled a small bag from her dress pocket and placed it on the counter. “If Malcolm and his wife are in tonight—I’d like to watch them.”
“You’re in luck, they’re preparing for scene and there is one observation room left.” He pulled a key from the wall behind him and placed it on the counter between them. “Room six.”
Harry followed her down the hallway. The establishment was nice despite the outward appearance. She entered the room, and he slipped in just behind her as she was giving the room a once over. He appreciated the small bit of caution regarding her safety, but he was overwhelmed with the urge to reveal himself and demand an explanation.
They’d only been married a year. He’d gone abroad after the war and had only returned because Kingsley Shacklebolt asked. He’d spent a year as Head Auror before he moved into the chair of Director of the DMLE. Somewhere along the way, he’d reconnected with Hermione, who was divorced, and they’d married.
She shed her cloak once she’d secured the door and sat down in one of the chairs in front of a darkened window. The window lit suddenly, a couple were revealed. The woman was naked, the man clothed only in a pair of dragonhide trousers. Hermione’s breath caught and her cheeks flushed with pleasure as the woman knelt on the floor. Harry was torn between watching the scene unfold in front of him and watching his wife respond to it. Her pupils dilated as she reached out and touched a rune.
“Do you wish to be punished, pet?”
Harry’s gaze jerked to the couple behind the glass.
“Yes, please, sir.”
“Have you been bad? Do you deserve to be punished?”
The woman shivered and her nipples tightened. Harry did his best to ignore his half-hard prick. The woman was lovely. Her full figure was quite different than Hermione’s or any other woman he’d ever gone to bed with. A glance back as his wife confirmed that she was fully on board with what was happening in the room in front of them. Her cheeks were flushed, her sweet pink lips slightly parted as she took a measured breath. He’d seen her aroused often enough to know when his wife was turned on.
“I’ve been so good,” the woman said in a small practically mournful tone. “I’d never want to disappoint you.”
“My sweet love, so eager to please.” The man unzipped his trousers and pulled out his cock. “Suck me, lass, and I’ll think about giving you what you want.”
Hermione wet her lips as the woman sucked eagerly on the cock she was presented with, and Harry briefly closed his eyes to gain some semblance of sanity. They had a pretty straightforward sex life and, if he were honest, perhaps it was a little predictable, but he loved her stupidly so it wasn’t unsatisfying in any single way for him. He wondered how his wife honestly felt about it. Oral sex was rarely a part of their routine. He had a big dick so he didn’t feel comfortable asking for head, and the last time Hermione had offered, he’d been so worked up with the need to fuck her that he’d only let her suck him for a little over a minute.
The man was fucking the woman’s mouth, and Hermione’s breathing was labored. She moaned a little as the man Harry knew to be called Malcolm fisted his hand into the woman’s dark blonde hair. Hermione rocked a little bit in her chair, and Harry fisted his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching out for her. He’d never seen her in such a state with all of her bloody clothes on, and he was in part a little furious that she was seeking this sort of stimulation outside of their marriage, but more, he was afraid. What if she was truly dissatisfied with him? Would she leave him? Was this why she’d left Ron?
Malcolm came, and Hermione sucked in a breath then licked her lips as the woman eagerly swallowed his cum. Harry leaned against the wall and watched as the woman was hauled unceremoniously from the floor and across her husband’s lap. The first smack of his hand made Harry jerk, but Hermione moaned again and the woman went utterly pliant. Her arse grew red under her husband’s hand and the woman began to writhe in obvious pleasure. Harry knew some couples indulged in rough play like this but he’d have never thought Hermione would be interested in being dominated and punished by a man in any context, much less sexual.
Malcolm pulled his wife up, set her astride his lap, and filled her with his cock. The woman moaned, gripped his shoulders, but didn’t move. The man ran his hands down his wife’s back, cupped her arse and squeezed. The woman made a soft, shocked sound. “Ride me, wife.”
Harry focused on his own wife and found her bright-eyed and squirming a little in her chair as the couple fucked in front of them. He wondered how often she came to this unassuming little building and watched. Had she ever participated? Perhaps before they’d married? She’d been single for almost two years in between her divorce from Ron and their marriage. He didn’t believe for a second that Hermione had cheated on him—she was loyal, if not completely honest.
The last woman he’d dated before coming back to Britain had complained that he was too aggressive in bed. She hadn’t been the first woman to say such a thing to him so he’d taken it to heart and had been very careful with Hermione to never be too demanding or rough with her. He refocused on his wife’s entertainment and found the couple had changed positions. The woman was on the floor, on all fours and her husband was fucking her from behind like he’d paid for it. Hermione shuddered as the woman screamed though an orgasm. Malcolm pulled out and came all over his wife’s arse. Harry took a deep breath and was relieved that his disillusionment charm was strong enough to cover any sounds he made as well.
Did Hermione want this or did she just like to watch? Harry didn’t know, but he also knew that what she was doing—coming to this place—was dangerous as fuck, and he didn’t want her strolling down Knockturn Alley on a regular basis without him.
The window darkened and Hermione stood. She put on her cloak, drew the hood over her head and left. He followed her until she was back on Diagon Alley. Most of the shops were closing as it was nearly eight at night. She went to the exit and left the magical shopping district then went into a Thai place just down the block from the Leaky Cauldron.
Harry apparated home. He activated the heating charms throughout the house so she’d come home to a warm house and went upstairs. His erection was gone, which wasn’t a surprise—he was really too worried to be aroused. Hermione called his name as she came in the front door and Harry pushed aside his worry. He had a great deal more thinking to do before he confronted his wife about her dirty little hobby.
She was still a bit flushed and her eyes were bright. She stopped what she was doing and came to him immediately, pressing her mouth to his sweetly. Harry let his hands settle on her hips briefly before he pulled her in tight against him and deepened the kiss. She hummed against his lips as he backed her up against the wall next to the kitchen door. He held her there for a minute, and he couldn’t help but notice she was relaxed in his hold. In fact, she was always that way. He groaned and lifted his mouth.
“What was that?” she asked with an amused grin. “Miss me?”
“Hmmm, I always miss you,” Harry said and rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip. “I love you.”
“I love you,” she murmured and stroked through his beard with her fingers. “Is something wrong?”
“No.” The denial felt wrong on his tongue, but he didn’t want to upset her or lose his temper with her, and he was a bit angry about her duplicity. On the other side of things, he could understand why she might hide what could only be described as a fetish. “It was just a frustrating day.”
“I brought your favorite takeaway,” Hermione said and caught both of his hands. She pulled him towards the table, and he allowed it. “I heard Ron was suspended from duty.”
Harry sighed. “Yes, for unreasonable force. I let Finn handle it, but Ron tried to protest it officially with my office. I refused to see him. I can’t say he won’t show up here later to bitch at me. But I made Eli Finn the Head Auror for a reason and I trust his judgement. If he said Ron was out of line then he was bloody out of line.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration.
“Sit, and I’ll pour you some wine.”
Harry watched her flit around the kitchen playing at being domestic—it was amusing. She was the least domestic woman he’d ever known, but he wouldn’t change a single thing about her. He let that thought settle in him and realized there were probably plenty of things he didn’t know about her. And all of those things—good and bad—made her the woman he loved and married.
“Ron showed up at my flat the night before we got married—drunk.”
Hermione turned to stare at him in horror. “What?” she asked. “You never said…what did he say?”
“He said I’d never be able to make you happy,” Harry murmured, and she paled. “I told him to fuck off.”
Hermione brought the bottle and glasses back to the table as Harry opened the cartons of food. “You already know that Ron and I had a miserable marriage. He blames me entirely for it. He said I always expected too much from him.”
“Yeah, he said that, too. I asked him how long he expected to get a free ride because of the war? He tried to punch me and fell on his arse. I don’t think Ron will ever forgive me for what happened to Ginny.”
“Ginny’s murder was not your fault, Harry.” Hermione sighed. “Merlin, I’ll never understand why Molly and Arthur sent her to Hogwarts when they knew how dangerous it would be. It hurt but I wasn’t surprised when I found out that Theo Nott had killed her and several other kids in the school. How long is Ron’s suspension?”
“Thirty days, without pay. So the likelihood that he won’t show up here is slim to none. I was looking for you earlier to tell you about it but you’d already left your desk.”
“I ran a few errands in the Alley and picked up dinner.”
So sly, he thought. How many times had she said that to him over the last year? “He was wrong, right?”
“Wrong about what?” Hermione questioned as she finally settled down at the table to eat.
“Are you happy?” He took a deep breath when she hesitated then she put her hand on his.
“Harry, I love you and every single day married to you is better than the last. I trust you, I want to make babies with you.” He picked up her hand and kissed her palm. “The only thing I regret in my life is marrying Ron in the first place. We were terrible for and to each other.”
“The Chief Prosecutor is retiring,” Harry said. He needed to change the subject before he asked too much, revealed too much. Hermione was perceptive as fuck. “I’d like to move into his job. What do you think?”
“I think you’re being wasted in the DMLE, but I’ve thought that since you returned. You hold two different masteries in law, Harry.” She smiled. “I think it would be great. What does Kingsley say?”
“It’s mine if I want it. I told him I’d discuss it with you because my work hours will have a temporary increase—probably for close to three months while I get settled.”
“It’s fantastic and we’ll figure it out. This is a great opportunity for you and also less dangerous.”
“I don’t go into the field much,” Harry pointed out. “But I have been thinking about that aspect of my job and how I’d like something a little more structured with better hours for…well.”
“A baby,” Hermione said and she smiled. “Yes, I think so, too. I’ve already told Croaker that I’d like to move into a pure research role by the end of the year because we want to start a family next year.”
“I don’t want you to feel pressured to have a baby.”
“I don’t,” Hermione promised. “I feel ready for it and I think we’re going to be awesome at this whole thing.” She waved a hand and smiled at him.
Their visitor charm sounded and Harry sighed. Hermione frowned into her wine glass. Their relationship with Ron had been strained since they’d gotten married. Ron would never really forgive Hermione for their failed marriage and he resented the hell out of Harry for a multitude of things—least of all his marrying Hermione.
“I’ll get it,” Harry said. “He’s probably already drinking. Why don’t you take your food up to your study?”
Hermione frowned. “Are you sure?”
“Of course,” Harry said, leaned down, and pressed a kiss against her mouth. “No need for us both to suffer. You’ve certainly had more than your share on the Ron front.”
She laughed. “Thanks.”
Harry walked out into the foyer and after a small debate with himself about stunning Ron unconscious, he opened the door.
“Took long enough.” Ron entered without being invited. Harry shut the door. “Where’s Hermione?”
“Upstairs in her private study,” Harry said and walked past Ron. He returned to the kitchen and Ron stomped after him. The red headed git had already gotten a painful lesson about trying to access anything in the house above the ground floor. He’d been thrown out into the street into the snow and had broken his wrist. “I’m not going to reverse your suspension so if you’re here for that—you can just go. Finn made the right choice.”
“The right choice? The git suspended me for a month for nothing!”
“Your suspect is in St. Mungo’s getting six bones regrown,” Harry said flatly. “Bones broken after he was subdued. I reviewed the scene report myself. You’re lucky I haven’t forwarded charges to the Prosecutor’s Office because I thought about it, and if McLagan files charges regarding the excessive force then you’ll have to deal with that as well.”
“He’s a dark wizard!”
“So what?” Harry questioned. “That doesn’t give you the legal or moral right to torture him for information he didn’t even have. The man is a smuggler not a Death Eater, for fuck’s sake!” He sighed and sat back down at the table with his food. “If he files a formal complaint—take the plea deal offered by the Prosecutor’s Office. They’ll go lightly on you because you’re a war hero.”
“What does Hermione think of this?” Ron demanded.
“I’d like you to die in a fire!” Hermione shouted from upstairs and Harry laughed.
“I’d apologize on her behalf but I’d probably have to sleep on the sofa,” Harry said and picked up his wine. “You’re not cut out to be an auror, Ron. Your prejudices are always going to be in the way and you don’t seem to care enough to even pretend otherwise. You’re never going to advance in the department because you’re lazy, entitled, and have made no effort to atone for past behavior. The higher ups don’t trust you to behave with any sort of honor, and honestly never will. Cut your losses before you end up in prison for abuse of power—though that might be a lost cause at this point due to your behavior last night.”
“So you get my wife and the job I wanted,” Ron said. “Is that it, Harry? Is that really how you think this is going to work? My sister was murdered because of you!”
“Ginny was murdered because of your parents’ politics,” Harry said. “She was a target and never should’ve been sent to Hogwarts. You even protested their plan until the very day we left the Burrow. Voldemort didn’t give a shit about Ginny personally, Ron, and you know that. He didn’t even bother to know her name! Theo Nott admitted in front of the entire Wizengamot that he chose every single target at Hogwarts that he killed based on whether or not their families were blood traitors. I wasn’t even mentioned in his testimony until the prosecutor asked a question about me and Nott admitted he’d had no idea Ginny and I ever dated.”
“Voldemort killed Percy because of you.”
“Percy took a curse for me. I didn’t even know he was in the courtyard until he’d already done it, Ron. You saw that. Don’t demean Percy’s sacrifice with your bullshite. It’s disgusting. I was able to defeat Voldemort because Percy distracted him while Neville killed Nagini. Stop rehashing things that are done and settled. I regret their deaths but I don’t accept blame for them. I never will.”
“And my wife?”
“Hermione divorced you. She’s my wife, and I don’t have to justify our relationship, you tosser. She’s not property, for the love of Merlin, and made her own choices.”
“I had her first,” Ron hissed. “She was mine!”
“Actually,” Hermione said and leaned in the doorway into the kitchen with her wine. “You weren’t my first, Ron. Harry was. I’d have never trusted you with something so important as my first sexual experience. You were a selfish boy back then, and I knew you couldn’t be counted on to be anything else but that.” She grimaced. “I wasn’t wrong. You’re extremely selfish in bed.” She walked away while Ron gaped at her.
Harry went back to his food.
“You bastard,” Ron seethed. “You slept with my girlfriend!”
“Hermione and I were lovers most of sixth year, Ron. You were dating Lavender Brown at the time and didn’t even notice. We broke up because your sister potioned me into wanting her. But with Dumbledore’s death, she forgot to renew the potion and it wore off. That’s why I dumped her at his funeral. Do we really have to go over all of this bullshite?” Harry demanded. “I’ve had a difficult fucking day and frankly you were a central part of it.”
“Ginny didn’t potion you! You loved her!” Ron protested. “She was your soulmate, Harry.”
Harry shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter what you think about that. Hermione is my wife, and while you might not have an ounce of respect for my title, interfering in a nobleman’s marriage could have fatal consequences.”
“Noble,” Ron scoffed. “So what if Sirius Black left you his title. It’s dragonshite, Harry. Only those wankers on the Wizengamot take that stuff seriously. I don’t know what happened to you—you used to be loyal, someone I could depend on.”
“Perhaps I got tired of you not returning the favor,” Harry said evenly. “Your shallow and frankly fickle friendship has always been more trouble than it was worth. I was just too needy to realize it when we were young. You should go—I have plans for the evening that don’t include you.”
“You’re going to regret this,” Ron said lowly and stalked out of the room.
The front door slammed shortly thereafter and Harry stood. He verified that Ron had left the property then went down the stairs to the basement where the ward stone was. He activated the ward net, removed Ron from the approved visitors’ list, and activated the portkey displacement security. Hermione laughed from the doorway of the small ward room.
“If anyone deserves a swim in the Thames, it’s Ron.” Harry closed the ward stone with a flick of his wand.
“So you have plans tonight?” Hermione questioned with a raised eyebrow.
“Yeah, I was thinking I’d shag my wife.” He grinned when her mouth dropped open. “You should run if you’d like to start on the bed because I figured I’d fuck on you on the first flat surface I can catch you on.”
Hermione laughed and darted out of the doorway. He caught up with her at the stairs and her breath hitched as he locked an arm around her waist. “Harry.”
“You didn’t even try to get that far,” he murmured against her neck as he ground his cock against her arse. He slid his free hand up her dress and snagged the side of her knickers. Her breath caught as he tore the material and she practically went limp in his hold. “Remember when we used to meet in that broom closet by Room of Requirement? I’d push your knickers out of my way and just slide right into your pussy.”
“Merlin, Harry.” Hermione shuddered as he held her tight and cupped her sex. His fingers delved in, rubbing over her clit.
“I didn’t even know what to do with a girl, not really, but you were so sweet.” He nuzzled against her neck. “You’re mine.”
“Yes,” Hermione agreed in a ragged breath.
“Say it,” Harry ordered against her hair as he unbuckled his belt.
“I’m yours, Harry,” she spread her legs, her bare toes curled against the cold tile of the basement floor.
He shifted them slightly and turned her so she could brace on the table they had near the stairs. Hermione’s nails scraped against the wood as he unzipped the back of her dress. He let her go to pull it over her head and she lifted her arms for it. He tossed the material aside and pressed his hand to the small of her back. Her torn knickers slid completely down her leg as he nudged her thighs further apart.
“Same page, love?”
“Hell yes,” Hermione agreed breathlessly as she stretched out over the table and tilted her hips.
Harry pushed into her and cupped one hip to keep her still. He had to admit he loved her like this—utterly available for his use, though he’d never really considered it an act of submission before. He used his free hand to stroke her back and she shivered. “Tell me what you want you, sweetheart.”
She squeezed down on his prick and rocked her hips a little. “Please.”
“Tell me,” Harry instructed. He kept his tone moderate, hopefully playful.
“Fuck me,” she begged. “Hard. Please.”
He’d have never thought in a million years that hearing his wife beg would trip his trigger but it did. He gave her exactly what she wanted—ruthlessly. His hips snapped against her arse with each thrust, the zipper of his trousers dragging across her upper thigh with each movement. Her nails dug into the surface of the table and as she rocked back into him eagerly. It was so fucking good to let go.
“Are you going to come for me?” He rubbed the small of her back.
“Close. I’m so close,” she confessed.
He knew he wasn’t going to last so he gave in a scraped the blunt edge of his nails down her back. She groaned, clenched down on his cock and came with a shudder. Harry came with her, slamming into her one last time and grinding against her as he released. He held her still and rubbed her back as they both relaxed. He pulled out of her with a soft intake of breath. He stilled her when she started to move then put his prick away. He buttoned his trousers so they wouldn’t fall off and shifted her around then picked her up.
Hermione looped an arm around his neck with a pleased smile. She looked utterly fucked out.
“Okay?” he questioned.
“Perfect.” She rubbed her nose against the line of his jaw.
He carried her up the stairs and all the way to their bedroom which made up the entire third floor of the town house then put her down on the bed. “Stay right here.”
Hermione stretched and relaxed on the bed. “Sure.”
Harry stripped off his clothes, went into the bathroom and filled the over-large tub that Hermione had insisted on. She’d confessed when they’d bought the townhouse and had it renovated to their specifications that she desperately missed the prefect’s bath from Hogwarts. He went back into the bedroom and found that she’d curled up on her side. She made a soft, sleepy sound when he picked her up but didn’t protest, so he carried her into the bathroom and stepped down into the tub with her.
Hermione settled into his lap and offered him a bemused smile. “You know—you have nothing to be jealous about where Ron is concerned.”
“I’m not jealous of Ron Weasley,” Harry said mildly. He pulled the combs from her hair and put them on the floor beside the tub. “He’s pretty much a failure and that’s all on him.”
“His mother played a small part in it,” Hermione said and hummed under her breath as Harry worked the braids out of hair. “Is something wrong?”
“No,” he murmured and he meant it. “Everything is perfect.”
“Are you happy?” Hermione asked suddenly.
“Yes, stupidly so. I don’t suppose I ever thought I would be.” He let his hand settle on her stomach. “I’m looking forward to a baby, too, you know.”
“I can’t hardly wait,” she admitted.
– – – –
The news that he’d taken the job as Chief Prosecutor swept through the ministry like wildfire. He recommended Neville Longbottom, who had been Deputy Director of the DMLE for a year, to take his place, and Kingsley had agreed. Plenty of people were shocked by his move, and Harry wasn’t entirely sure why as he’d worked as a prosecutor for the World Court of Magic before he’d returned to Britain. Hermione had come up during her lunch break and helped him unpack his things in his new office as Chester Wakefield had gleefully vacated the space and left the ministry as soon as the announcement had been made.
The first thing to hit his desk after he was settled was a formal excessive force complaint from Cormac McLaggen. After leaving Hogwarts, he’d taken over his uncle’s potion shop on Knockturn Alley, and over the years had become one of the biggest smugglers of illegal potion ingredients in Britain. The investigation into catching him had taken a lot of DMLE resources, and while Ron’s actions hadn’t endangered a conviction, it had created a very embarrassing situation for the ministry. He read over the file again and tried to get his head around Ron’s actions.
Neville arrived an hour after the file and threw himself in a chair in front of Harry’s new desk. “You could’ve warned me.”
Harry grinned. “I told you a year ago that I had no intention of staying in the DMLE long term. Have you informed Ron that McLaggen filed a complaint?”
“Yeah, he’s waiting in my office.” Neville frowned. “I don’t have to tell you that Ron is a problem and he has been a problem for years. This is his third suspension from duty for improper behavior and we have to take the reputation of the DMLE into account. If we go light on him, we’ll be accused of favoritism which would be a bigger problem for you because of your history with him and his family.”
“If we leave him on the job, he’s going to kill someone or get another auror killed,” Harry said. “He has a reputation for being a brute already, and that means eventually he’s going to come across a dark wizard who won’t surrender without a vicious fight which I think maybe he wants. Ron developed a taste for killing during the war. I remember that final day—he actually laughed when he killed Lucius Malfoy.”
“I remember,” Neville said quietly. “It was just one more horror to add to that day. Okay, so your official opinion?”
“He can resign or be fired,” Harry said. “He’s got a bloody Order of Merlin and is a pure-blood. You and I both know if I try to put him on trial for roughing up a dark wizard that we’ll both be crucified.”
“Agreed.” Neville stood. “I’ll let him know and escort him out of the building afterward.” He walked to the door. “Oh, and congratulations.”
“Ha, I’m taking my friendship back, Harry, because you’ve done me no favor.”
Harry laughed as Neville left. He made a note on the complaint and set up an official memo which he sent to Longbottom’s inbox. Then he sent a note to his wife letting her know what had happened because her office was more accessible and Ron might visit her to complain about what had been done to him. He knew already that the git wouldn’t take any blame for the situation at all. Ron was a victim in his mind and he always would be.
There was a knock on the door and Harry looked up to see Blaise Zabini standing in the doorway.
“Come in,” Harry said and waved him in. Zabini was the newest hire in the prosecutor’s office outside of himself, he supposed, and he figured the staff had sacrificed him to ask a host of questions. He shut the door with his wand and Blaise sat down. “How’s the temperature out there?”
“We knew his retirement was coming and he made it clear that he’d recommended to the minister that you be moved into his place because you were being wasted in the DMLE. We all followed your work abroad so we didn’t disagree with his assessment or his choice. Your assistant, of course, is flipping her shite because of Hogwarts stuff.”
Harry glanced towards the staff list and sighed. “Oh.”
“You know, your wife didn’t lift that jinx until a full year after the war.” Blaise grinned when Harry sighed again. “Marietta is a nervous wreck so if you’d let her know you don’t plan to fire her…unless you do?”
“No, Merlin, I might have been furious with her at fifteen but we all grew up and, in the end, Umbridge was to blame. I couldn’t really put myself in her place, you know. Umbridge couldn’t punish me by ruining the life of a parent or even a relative. Tell everyone we can have a departmental review tomorrow. I’d like a brief summary on each case on the docket by the end of the day. Chester told me he hadn’t assigned any cases to himself in the last month in preparation for his retirement. I know the criminal cases but I’ll need a briefing on any civil and regulatory issues.”
“We’ll get started,” Blaise said. “You don’t have a deputy, by the way. Mr. Wakefield liked a flat structure in the department but we know from how you reorganized the DMLE that your style is different.”
“I’m already reviewing everyone’s employment file so yes, to answer your unspoken question, there will be some rearrangements in the department. I’ve given myself three months to reorganize so nothing is going to happen overnight.”
“Great,” Blaise said and stood. He walked to the door and opened it. “Edgecomb! You can relax, he’s not going to sic his wife on you again!”
Harry sat back in his chair with a laugh and looked over at the picture he had on his desk. His wife turned her head and offered him a wink. Magical photos would never cease to be a wonder to him. He picked up the first employment file and got started. Around six, Hermione brought pizza and settled in at a table to work on an article she was preparing to submit to a research publication.
A little after eight, they were getting ready to leave when his door swung open and Ron staggered in. Harry resolved to file a complaint with security—a former employee shouldn’t have that sort of access to the administrative parts of the ministry.
“You fucking arsehole!” Ron shouted.
Hermione pulled her wand and stunned him.
Harry’s mouth dropped open as Ron was flung back through the door of his office and out into the bullpen his team worked in. “Hermione.”
“What? We don’t have to put with his crap, Harry. He’s not our friend anymore—he’s made that abundantly clear over the last year.”
Harry activated a rune on his desk to alert the DMLE he had a problem and wasn’t all that surprised when Neville came up a minute later.
Longbottom sighed and levitated Ron off the floor with a flick of his wand. “Charges?”
“Just throw him in a cell and let him sleep off his drunk,” Harry said. “He didn’t get a chance to do anything before Hermione stunned him. Her tolerance for ex-husbands is apparently very low.”
“Better keep her happy,” Neville said with a cheerful smirk and left with Ron.
Hermione grinned and put on her cloak. Harry stood watching her pack away her things for a few seconds; she had a way about her that always struck him when he least expected it. She looked up and met his gaze. “What?”
“You’re beautiful,” Harry said honestly and she flushed.
He laughed. “Come here.”
She didn’t hesitate which added another little layer to his thinking regarding the sort of relationship his wife wanted with him in private. He cupped her hip as she moved into his space. “What’s on your mind, Lord Potter?”
“Was I too rough with you last night?”
Her eyes darkened and she bit down on her bottom lip. “No, I…”
“I loved it.” She looked down and ran her fingers down the length of his tie then took a deep breath. “You used to be that way when we were younger—during sixth year.”
She shrugged. “I can’t describe it really—like you couldn’t get enough of me. I liked it—how much you wanted me. It was…”
“Empowering,” Harry supplied and her eyes went wide. He backed her up against the table and she squeaked, it was adorable. “You liked it, huh? Making me desperate for your tight little cunt.”
“Harry James,” she protested weakly. “Your language is terrible.”
He laughed. “Oh, don’t play that little game with me.” He put her up on the table and nudged her thighs apart. “What part did you like the most?”
She blushed and shrugged then swung her feet a little. “I don’t know.”
He hugged her close and she tucked her face against his neck. Harry slid one hand down her back and took a deep breath. “I can’t give you what you want if you can’t say it.”
Hermione stiffened and jerked back. “Harry. You don’t really think I’m unhappy with you, right? I mean…” Her eyes dampened with tears. “I love you.”
Harry caught the tear that escaped from her left eye and rubbed it away with his thumb. “I love you back.” He smiled when she laughed. “Didn’t you tell me six months ago that a successful marriage requires communication?”
“That’s just because I was gearing up to tell you I wanted a baby,” she blurted out then blushed furiously. “You’re all I want, you know. You’re pretty much all I ever wanted and you walked away when I didn’t say it. I made a stupid choice at seventeen because I thought Ron needed me and you…you left. My marriage to Ron was failing within a month of the wedding. I only stayed in it for as long as I did out of misplaced friendship. I love what we have together and I want a family with you. So what’s going on?”
“I’ve been told that I can be too aggressive in bed,” Harry admitted. “Or alternatively that I wanted sex too often and due to my size, she was tired of being sore all the time so I learned not to be so demanding.”
Hermione huffed. “Well, that’s what a healing charm is for.” She grinned when he laughed. “No, I’m serious. I might have been a bit sore this morning, but after I enjoyed that for a bit, I did perform a charm to get rid of the soreness. It wasn’t a hardship at all.”
“Enjoyed what for a bit?” Harry asked.
“Well, every single time I sat down all morning, I got a stinging little reminder of how much fun we had last night. I like it but it was also distracting me from work, so I did a little charm just before lunch.” She patted her pink cheeks. “Maybe we do need to communicate more. I’d think a year into marriage we would’ve already figured this stuff out.”
Harry had thought so until he’d followed her into what amounted to a sex club, but he wasn’t ready for that conversation. He needed to research it—figure out what was really going on there before he told her what he knew. “Let’s go into Muggle London and have dinner.”
– – – –
Tuesday came around again—her day to run errands. Harry followed her out of the ministry without an ounce of shame. In the week since he’d followed her the first time, he’d read a book he’d picked up in a Muggle bookstore about BDSM, but he knew he needed a conversation and more with someone in the lifestyle. The sex club Hermione was visiting was called Façade and had been on Knockturn Alley for over a hundred years. It wasn’t a private club, but those on display were probably using glamours which meant that “Malcolm” could literally be anyone, and Harry had no real way of finding him. Moreover, he wasn’t sure he wanted to discuss his wife’s fetish with him, or really with anyone else he might come across on a regular basis.
There was a wizard ahead of Hermione when they entered Façade, so Harry stepped out of the way so no one would run into his disillusioned form. It was too easy to follow her and she was going to get a little lecture about that part of the whole situation. When it was her turn, Harry shifted slightly so he could hear the exchange.
“Watch or participate?”
“Watch. Is Master Malcolm in?”
“He is but his observation rooms are full. Master Steven is also here with his new pet.”
“Oh, perfect.” Hermione put the little bag on the counter and received a key for room eight in exchange.
He leaned against the wall after the door was secured and watched his wife get settled. There were two men in the room, and both were naked. Harry glanced towards his wife and wasn’t all that surprised to find she inched forward in her chair.
“What’s your safe word, boy?”
“Very good,” Steven praised. “We’re going to start with the cross.” He led the younger man to a large structure shaped like an X and used attached chains to restrain him. “Comfortable, pet?”
“Yes, Sir.” The submissive relaxed in the restraints and his head fell forward.
Steven picked up a flogger and Hermione made a soft, pleased sound. Harry glanced his wife’s way and found her chewing on her bottom lip. Harry refocused on the scene in front of him—concentrating mostly on the way the Dom in the scene moved, the way he gripped the flogger as he started to lash across his pet’s back. The sub moaned softly as the strokes increased in speed and strength—red welts were forming on his back, arse, and upper thighs as the Dom worked. Both of them were hard. The sub’s cock jerked every single time the flogger connected with the flesh of his back.
Harry looked toward his wife and wet his bottom lip. Her skirt was hitched up so high he could see the lace tops of her tights. She was rubbing her inner thigh, her hand drifted upwards briefly before she took a deep breath and pulled her skirt back down. Was she teasing herself or just unprepared to masturbate in her current circumstances? He refocused on the scene and found the Dom sliding a fairly large anal plug in the sub’s arse. The pet shuddered and moaned throughout the process.
The Dom picked up a cane and Harry pressed himself against the wall. When he’d read the chapter about caning in the book he’d bought, he’d been very intrigued. The cane whistled in the air and the first strike made the sub scream. Harry focused on the sub’s face and saw nothing but pleasure. Hermione was chewing on her nail when he looked her way. Her cheeks were flushed and her pupils were blown. Could he give her this if she wanted it? His gaze drifted back to the scene—there was no blood which was a relief to Harry. The book said some players liked to draw blood. He wasn’t sure he could handle that.
The submissive strained against the cross and came with a harsh groan. Harry shivered as he watched. The idea of making his wife come on command was particularly exciting. He’d never really had a problem getting her off—with or without penetration. She surrendered easily and eagerly to pleasure at the least provocation, which he found insanely attractive.
Steven took his submissive off the cross and ordered him to knees. Hermione groaned as the sub eagerly took his Dom’s cock into his mouth. Contrary to the rough treatment the younger man had already received—Steven worked his prick into his sub’s mouth gently and slowly over and over again until he threw his head back and came with a low groan.
Hermione checked her watch and stood as the window darkened. Harry wondered if there were longer sessions and how much they cost. He followed her out and apparated home when she went into Flourish and Blotts. After activating the warming charms, he went into his study and poured himself a drink. He couldn’t keep his knowledge a secret anymore—it wasn’t fair to either of them really to let her continue on in the belief that her secret was safe. He finished the shot of firewhiskey while he waited and considered how to start the conversation that was going to change his marriage—for better or worse.
He heard her arrive but said nothing when she called his name. She called out for him a second time, and Harry closed his eyes. He let his head rest against the back of the chair he’d thrown himself in and set empty glass on the table beside him.
He opened his eyes and found her hovering in the doorway. “Hey.”
“What’s wrong?” She came in and took off her cloak. She put the garment on the small sofa near the empty fireplace.
“Come here, love, please,” he requested and held out a hand for her. She took his hand and he pulled her into his lap.
“Has something terrible happened?” she asked in a hushed voice.
“No, not that I know of,” Harry murmured. “I love you and I’m not mad.”
“Okay.” Hermione frowned and bit down on her lip. “Harry…what’s…”
“Let’s talk about Façade,” Harry murmured and wrapped an arm around her waist when she tried to leave his lap.
She burst into tears. It was honestly the last thing he expected. He pulled her close and Hermione shook violently as she sobbed into her hands. He rubbed her back gently and waited, because out of all the scenarios he’d considered from denial to anger, he hadn’t planned for emotional devastation. She turned to him, buried her face against his neck and continued to cry.
“Darling,” he whispered against her hair and closed his eyes. He wasn’t going to apologize for exposing her deception, but he hated how upset she was. “Calm down before you make yourself sick.”
“I’m not cheating,” she whispered against his jaw. “I promise, Harry. I’ve never cheated. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“Did you do it to Ron?” Harry asked and he couldn’t even say why he asked.
“No.” She took a deep breath. “I can’t say I wasn’t tempted because I was utterly miserable but I didn’t.” Hermione sat back so they could be face to face. “I’ll take a vow on my magic.”
“I don’t need that,” Harry said. “I don’t think you’re cheating on me. First, I need you to know that I’ve followed you to Façade twice. I watched you tonight—while you watched the little show you paid for. I also watched you last Tuesday.”
“The day you found out about your promotion…you were looking for me.” She frowned. “How are you seeing through my obscurity charm?”
He picked up her wand hand where she wore her house ring. “We’re connected magically through these rings. You could polyjuice a hundred people to look just like you and I could find you because of the ring. The men who came before me who wore the Blackmoor title were rather militant about their wives. We talked about it before you put the ring on.”
“Right.” Hermione took a deep breath. “You’re not mad?”
“I was,” Harry said. “I’m a little irritated with how casual you are about your security. Knockturn Alley is not exactly the sort of place you need to go and you know that. How did you find out about Façade?”
“Ron.” She blew air out through her lips. “He arrested someone at Façade and was really upset to find out he couldn’t shut the whole place down because it was full of perverts. Well, he left his case report on his desk at the house and I read through it. I was really curious so I went. Then I went again.”
“Have you always just watched?”
She blushed and took a deep breath. “I…no. I participated once after my divorce. I think you’d been back a few months and Ron was being a complete bastard about you, about the divorce, and he’d accused me of wanting you. He said I had no business being interested in you because of him and Ginny. Mostly because of him. He told me I shouldn’t even be friends with you because you were his best mate and I was just his cunt ex-wife. So, I was frustrated with him and I went to Façade.”
“And you submitted sexually to a stranger.”
Hermione nodded and tears spilled down her cheeks. “Yes.”
“Did you like it?”
“Yes.” Her breath hitched and she wiped her tears away with trembling fingers. “He just used a flogger on me because I was novice and he fucked me.”
Hermione nodded. “Yes.”
“So you were on display for strangers as well,” Harry said.
“Well, not me. Everyone in the display rooms are polyjuiced. I kind of liked being the blonde.” She put her hands out in front of herself. “She was very busty.”
“I noticed,” Harry admitted. “So, just the once?”
“Yes, but…well. I can’t say I wouldn’t have gone back for more as a participant, but you invited me to dinner three days later and at first I thought you were just looking to deepen our friendship. Then you kissed me that night and I pretty much focused entirely on you after that. I didn’t go back to Façade for months, but eventually I was so tempted to go back. I watched from then on out and that’s all I’ve done since our first date.”
“Is watching enough for you?” Harry questioned.
“I haven’t even tempted to cheat on you, Harry. Please believe that.”
“I do believe it.” He picked up her hand and kissed her palm. “I just need you to be honest with me about your needs.”
Her cheeks flushed. “Harry…are you offering to top me?”
“Well, I’m certainly not going to agree to a stranger doing it,” Harry said tartly and grinned when she laughed. “I read a book that I bought in a Muggle store about BDSM. I don’t know much but I’m willing to learn. I can tell you that I didn’t see anything at Façade that I was uncomfortable with. I’m sure there are things that go on there that I wouldn’t be on board with.”
“I don’t watch the really extreme players,” Hermione said. “No bodily fluids, no heavy torture.” She looked down at her hands. “I’m really happy with you, you know? I don’t need any of that stuff. I like to watch but I don’t have to do that if it makes you uncomfortable.”
“The only part that worries me is the location. We could go together…would you like that?”
She blushed and took a deep breath. “Yes, I would.”
“Does Ron know that you visit Façade?”
“No. I’d have never trusted him with that kind of information and he couldn’t care less what I did while we were married.” Her shoulders slumped. “I guess I should confess what I did to him.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Okay.”
“We didn’t have a ritual marriage, as you know. He refused to submit to it and I was fine with that because I wasn’t interested in being magically connected to him. As a Muggle-born, I couldn’t file for divorce on my own, so I started to think of ways to make Ron do it. I knew he’d be resistant to the idea because he would be embarrassed. I also knew the Marriage Authority would test him for spells and potions when he filed for the divorce. So I spelled myself.”
“With what?” Harry asked in amusement.
“First, with a repelling charm geared towards sex so he’d find me unattractive then I ramped it up so he couldn’t hardly stand to be in the same room with me. After about six months of that, I asked him to file for a divorce. I think he was at the door of the Marriage Authority a good half hour before they even opened for the day.”
He laughed. “Hermione.”
“I know. Well, of course he passed all their tests and I removed the spells from myself shortly after we signed everything. By the time the effects were completely gone, the divorce petition was approved. Of course, he changed his mind, but at that point, we both had to agree to the cancellation and I refused. He was furious that I didn’t want to cancel the divorce. We had several public rows about it before you came back to Britain. Then just the one you witnessed afterward.”
“Well, that’s because I told him to stop,” Harry confessed. “I threatened to kick his arse if he didn’t stop harassing you.”
Hermione’s eyes went wide. “Harry.”
“What? He was being a terrible jerk and he acted like you didn’t have the right to your own decisions which was infuriating. Also, I was invested in you not going back to him.” He grinned and shrugged. “You aren’t the only one who regrets the choices we made at seventeen. I still had a bit of potion in me when the ICW did my physical, so most of my grief over Ginny was artificial. I regret her death but not the way I did at that time.”
“You’re really not mad?” Hermione took a deep breath.
“I was and I’m entirely certain I should spank your arse for lying.”
“I wasn’t…” She frowned and trailed off. “Okay, so I wasn’t thoroughly honest but I didn’t outright lie.”
“I’m entirely certain that describing a visit to a sex club as an errand is a lie,” Harry said mildly, and her face flushed in response. “How many times have you visited Façade since we got married?”
“At first not at all,” Hermione murmured. “You went on my errands with me but then you got a little busy with the DMLE, so I had some free evenings here and there.” She chewed her bottom lip. “I guess about twenty times.”
“Stand up,” he ordered and she hesitated briefly before she slipped off his lap. He patted his knee. “Lie across my lap.”
“Harry.” She did as instructed when he just stared at her.
He spread his thighs a bit to keep her steady and ran his hand down her back. “You don’t have to keep secrets from me. I don’t say this lightly but I love you unconditionally.” He pushed her skirt up until it was bunched on the small of her back. “Do you ever masturbate when you’re at Façade?”
“No, sometimes I’m so tempted and turned on, but no.” Her breath hitched when he pulled knickers down to her thighs. “It didn’t feel right.”
He rubbed her arse cheek. “Same page, love?”
“Yes,” she whispered and squirmed just a little before she stilled.
The first strike of his palm on her arse elicited a shocked yelp from her but she all but melted against his thighs. He delivered five sharp smacks before he rubbed the rapidly reddening skin then he started again. Her breathing was labored by the time he delivered the tenth blow. He was hard as a rock which he hadn’t really anticipated.
“Amazing,” Hermione murmured and took a deep breath as he shifted her around. She slid astride his lap with ease.
She pressed her mouth to his, and he filled his hands with arse. Her skin was warm and she hissed against his lips.
“Yes,” she admitted and shuddered. “It’s so good.”
He used one hand to unzip the back of her dress, and she pulled it over her head immediately and tossed it away. Harry hitched her up and sucked one rigid nipple into his mouth. He clenched his teeth briefly and she groaned.
After a few seconds, he lowered her to his lap and pushed his hand between her legs, huffed a little when he tangled up with her knickers which she was half wearing. “Up.”
Hermione slipped off his lap and stood then pushed the knickers off.
“Keep the tights and boots on,” he instructed when she reached to unlace one knee high boot. She blushed and blew out air between her lips. “Problem?”
“I’m a little off my stride,” she admitted.
“Do you want to stop?”
“Come here, love.” He helped her astride his thighs, and she wrapped her arms around his neck as he rubbed her back. “Did you know you’d like it? Before you went to watch that first time?”
“I thought I might,” she admitted and curled her hands into his hair. “Malcolm’s my favorite because he reminds me of you. His body, the way he speaks—just everything really. No one really measured up after you. I thought that maybe it was just that I didn’t feel the same way about Ron that I felt about you, but that wasn’t it at all. He’s weak but not you—you’re the strongest man I know.”
He cupped her arse and she shuddered. “You like that?”
“I love your hands on me,” Hermione admitted and her head fell back slightly as she rocked a little in his hands. “You used to hold me down—in school. Do you remember?”
He considered that. “I…” He exhaled sharply. “You mean when you’d play that game where you hid from me and I had to find you before I could fuck you?”
She blushed. “Yeah, and you’d just push me up against a wall and fuck me breathless. Sometimes you held me too tight—like I might run away again.”
“Well, I have to admit chasing you about the Room of Requirement did turn me on,” he said and shrugged when she lifted an eyebrow.
“Then that one time we had a bed and you held my hands together over my head,” she whispered. “And you just fucked me so hard then you rolled off. When I started to speak you shushed me. You fucked me again—when you got hard. You must have taken me six or seven times that night. I kind of got lost in it—I think I fell into subspace actually.”
Harry flushed. “I remember that night very well. Sometimes I wank thinking about it.”
She hummed under her breath. “Me, too.”
“So what you’re saying is that your fetish is my fault,” Harry murmured as he unbuttoned his belt and unzipped his trousers.
“I wanted you so much, all the time. It was difficult when you suggested that we end it—you said it was hurting our friendship. I didn’t agree but I didn’t want to lose you completely.” Her eyes dampened. “If I’d known that little bitch was giving you a potion…” She took a deep breath.
“Let’s not talk about that,” he said.
He slid forward in the chair and held her tight as he stood. She wrapped her legs around his waist with a little hitch in her breath. Harry took his wife to his desk, which was clear since he’d cleared off all the DMLE business and hadn’t brought home any work, yet, from his new job. Hermione let her hands drop to the desk for support as he put her down.
She wet her lips and took a deep breath then nodded. Harry watched her as he unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt. He found he’d always liked being the center of her attention though he’d probably have to be profoundly drunk to admit that aloud. Pulling his shirt from trousers, he took a moment to shove his shoes off and kick them under his desk.
“I owe you ten more, by the way.”
She blushed prettily and swung her feet. “Harry.”
He moved forward, slid his hands on top of hers and leaned over her. Her breath caught as he lowered his head and brushed his lips over one rigid nipple. She arched up into his mouth, so he scraped his teeth over her flesh and his wife made a soft, shocked sound that was like a punch in the stomach.
“You lied to me.” He lifted up, ran his lips along her collarbone then kissed her mouth. He caught her bottom lip with his teeth and tugged a little. Her eyes were dark when he released her. “And your punishment should be thorough so you aren’t tempted to do so in the future, don’t you agree?”
Hermione averted her gaze and nodded.
“But right now, my dick is hard and it’s your fault so you’re going to give me all the pussy I want.” He finished undressing then focused on her. “Lie back.” He wrapped his hands around her boot covered ankles and lifted her legs as she did as instructed. He put her feet on the desk, just as he wanted them and murmured a little sticking charm to keep them in place.
Her breath hitched.
He hummed under his breath as he shifted forward and pushed right into her. Hermione arched a little off the desk and groaned.
“You’ve been telling me this for years, haven’t you?” He pressed his hand against her stomach to keep her still and started to thrust into her slow and easy.
“No more secrets.” He cupped one of her hips, let his fingers bite into her flesh just enough to make her groan. “You want me to use you.”
“I’m yours.” Her voice broke with emotion and she closed her eyes. “Harry. I…please.”
“My sweet girl.” Harry grabbed both of her arms, hauled her up easily and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he started to move faster, harder. The sticking charm snapped away with a few sparks as he lifted her off the desk, turned, and pressed her up against the wall.
She wrapped around him and clung as he fucked her—a soft sob burst from her mouth when he ordered her to come, and she clenched down around him and came just like that. Harry shuddered through his own orgasm, startled by the intense response from his wife and the fact that she’d done as he’d ordered. He hadn’t really expected such an immediate response.
He turned his face and kissed her cheek then her soft, sweet mouth. “Don’t worry, love, I’ll take care of you.”
Author’s Note: Happy Valentine’s Day. This is a stand alone fic that I currently have no intention of expanding.