Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11889885.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Hermione_Granger/Percy_Weasley
  Character:
      Percy_Weasley, Hermione_Granger, Harry_Potter
  Additional Tags:
      affair, Infidelity, Awkward_Sexual_Situations, Awkward_First_Times,
      Office_Romance, Adult_Hermione, Adult_Percy, Underage_Masturbation
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-08-23 Words: 4017
****** A Vengeful Affair ******
by GlassesAndGiggles
Summary
     Hermione attempts to rekindle an old flame after being burnt by Ron's
     infidelity. That flame (Percy) has reservations about being lit,
     however, having already dimmed in his family's esteem enough for one
     lifetime.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
"Ron's been seeing someone on the side."
Harry said the words like remarking on how the day was rainy once again.
Hermione almost didn't hear me, scribbling away at the document on her desk.
"Oh yes, that sounds like something he'd do-" Then she stopped in the middle of
her prepared making small talk line, looked up, and squinted at Harry. "What?"
"Ron. He's seeing someone on the side." Harry repeated, his face miserable.
"Ron? My Ron?"
"Yes, that one."
Hermione stopped writing, setting the quill of to the side.
"How? Who?"
"A dark witch we've been investigated in France. He was trying to get on her
good side, and uh, they became a bit closer then the mission really called
for."
"Just the once?" Hermione eyes, eyebrows knitted. Aurors were Aurors. They did
things might seem distasteful to the general public. It wasn't worth ripping up
their household by the foundation if he'd only had sex as a strategic element
of spycraft. Once.
Harry's frown deepened, as if he'd eaten a very disagreeable curry hours ago
and it was now exacting revenge by pummeling the inside of his stomach.
"Harry?"
"No." Harry shook his head. "He, uh, is still. Still seeing her."
Hermione felt light headed. Ron was seeing her, not just sleeping with her.
Seeing her meant conversations. Meals together? Cuddling afterwards? Presents?
"How long?"
Ron didn't even get her presents, some soft voice in the back of her mind
hissed.
"Two months now." Harry reached under his glasses and rubbed at his eyelids.
Hermione found her seat with a hand that was surprisingly calm despite how she
felt weightless. She pulled it out and sat down.
"How long have you known."
"Two months now." Harry repeated with a sigh. He eventually drew his green gaze
over to meet her wounded eyes. "I didn't tell you right away because I wanted
to give him the chance to. I know if Ginny ever... saw someone else, I would
want her to tell me. I gave him weeks to go to it. To tell you. But, not only
did he not say anything, he didn't stop..."
Hermione found it hard to breath.
"...and he's my mate. He still is. But it's not fair for him to expect me to
keep this sort of secret, because you're my mate too. I can't lie to my best
friend everytime I see her, not for such a selfish reason."
"Isn't Ginny your best friend?" Hermione asked, voice distant and airy as the
news sickened her at a physical level.
"Ginny is my wife. That's more but also different than what you are to me
Hermione. I trust you, and if it came to pass that you couldn't trust me..."
Harry swallowed. "I'm sorry, I guess in the end I told you for really selfish
reasons."
"No, no.." Hermione waved a hand. "It's good that you told me. I... I would
want to know you're looking out for me." Her face began to crinkle. "It's...
bad enough I can't trust Ron, at least I can trust you."
"Is there anything I can do?" Harry asked, his voice quiet
.
"I... need a moment."
"You're not going to do anything drastic, are you? I... don't think he does it
to hurt you, or because... I think he's just... Ron."
"I'm not the drastic one of our trio." Hermione blinked. "But I really do need
a moment, Harry, if you don't mind?"
"Of course." Harry stepped outside, closing the door. He hesitated, wondering
if he should stay, but then decided he'd done enough damage. Whatever came
next, he'd done what he thought was right. If she wanted evidence, he had it.
He wouldn't need it. They trusted each other.
He disappeared.
Timing is everything. Some people have amazing timing. Most of the Weasleys had
amazing timing. It's what made them so good at Quidditch and at having
basketfuls of children. However, every family had it's black sheep. The one who
just didn't quite fit in because they weren't good at the same things, didn't
have the same sense of humor, and just rubbed everyone the wrong way.
This black sheep also had bad timing.
Huffing, Percy readjusted the scrolls tucked in his elbow. He stepped off of
the elevator on the floor of Magical Law Enforcement. Hermione Granger promised
to review these files for the upcoming Magical Education Reformation Symposium
weeks ago. . This needed to be fixed. Of course, the entire department was
operating in a backlog. The ministry always was. Percy, however, was fond
enough of overtime and stubborn enough that he never acknowledged that to be a
bureaucrat meant being behind by several months as a general rule, not an
exception.
 
When he'd been an assistant, whether to the Minister of Magic or the evil
wizard who was pretending to be Mr.Crouch, he'd assumed the lateness with which
everything occurred was some personal failing. He thought if he just worked
hard enough he'd overcome this. Even when he'd aligned himself with the
Pureblood Agenda of the Ministry during those scary years of the Voldemort take
over, he'd still valiantly fought against being persistently behind schedule.
Whether Lawful Neutral or Chaotic Evil, however, it seemed the demands on the
ruling body always exceeding its ability to meet them.
He'd come to accept this from most departments, but seeing Granger behind on
something infuriated him. She was the exception, not the rule. One of the women
who saved the world when he'd been too afraid to. She was almost mythical.
And she was late on her paper work! Unacceptable.
So he strolled in front of her door.
He did not knock. He opened the door. Opened his mouth, and said:
"Hermione, I understand you are busy, but this is utterly unaccept...a..ble."
His word trailed off as he saw a grown woman, her arms crossed and his face
buried in her sleeves, sobbing like a teeanger in a school bathroom. Big fat
tears, rolling down her face. Her hair sticking to her cheeks. Pooling on the
desk below with the intensity of her sorrow.
Percy tapped the door with his heel, closing it behind him. He stood there,
awkwardly adjusted his tie, swallowed and frowned. He'd never been good with
emotion. He'd gotten bite-shy after being so utterly wrong the last time he was
enraged, betrayed, and scared feeling. While Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, Ron,
and Ginny all had their wild phases which made their mum rage until she was red
in the face and their dad give stern half-lectures, Percy wild phase had
sincerely hurt the family in a way that left a permanent scar.
His sibling's wild teen antics had led to funny stories and saving the world.
His youthful devotion to blind trust in his own feelings had in contrast
traumatized all involved. Percy never shook the feeling at Christmas dinner
that they wished he'd died instead of Fred.
Percy just couldn't trust his own feelings, and so, didn't express them
publicly. This meant he didn't know how to deal with others expression very
well either.
"Pu-Puhrcy?" Hermione hiccuped.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know you were busy." Percy's eyes darted around her face.
It wasn't his place to ask what was wrong. It was his brother's. He should just
go.
"I...should go home. I should appa...but Ron's there right now." Then she
remembered Ron was there, and began wailing violently. Percy stepped back and
bumped into the door.
"Is that a problem? I could ask him to leave. Wait, I don't actually know your
location..."
Hermione muttered something unintelligible.
Percy closed his eyes. He didn't read much fiction. He did love nonfiction. He
especially found himself drawn to self-help books in recent months, after
stagnating at the same level in the MInistry for several years.
Physical contact was a power move, but also an instant soother. Something
primitively effective, even if it wasn't a particularly British behavior. He
set the scrolls down on the top of a filing cabinet. He strode to the desk. She
didn't recoil, but just kept crying. He put a hand over her shoulder. She
didn't look at the hand. He gave her shoulder a small squeeze.
"There, there." He felt stupid as soon as he said it. There there? To Hermione
Granger? Defeater of the Voldemort, savior of the world, and constant champion
of the Ministry Pub Night Trivia Challenge? Absurd,
She sniffled.
"You haven't touched me since I stayed at your house second year." She managed,
calming down. Wait, did that actually work? Percy was so stunned it took him a
second to respond.
"Oh, yes, I suppose not." He breathed.
"You tutored me." She stated. Percy frowned. Tutoring was a strong word. More
like, previewed what she'd be learning. He had just wanted to brag. Fred,
George and Ron had no interest in his school work and accomplishments. Ginny
despite being clever wasn't quite to Hermione levels.
Wait.
She wasn't talking about-
"That time you touched my bottom." She blinked.
Percy drew his hand back as if burned. He hadn't thought of the moment in a
long time, much more intense erotic experiences over writing it when he'd
gotten an actual girlfriend. It all came rushing back now.
Those damn blue jeans.
"Uaah. Right. Sorry about that. I wasn't thinking clearly back then."
"You were a teenaged boy and I was a cute girl staying in your house." Hermione
smirked in a heavy, sad sort of way.
"It was... admittedly, a bit unconventional. I was older than you."
"Only three years older than me."
"Yes, which is a lot when you're sixteen." Percy should have retreated, he knew
that now. Whatever she'd been miserable about before hadn't involved him. Now
he was being dragged down into the brackish waters of youthful indiscretion
that he had almost successfully entirely forgotten about.
Hermione reached over, grabbing his hand with hers. She looked at the fingers,
curiously. Percy, frozen with guilt and uncertainty about what to do, just
stared at her from behind his glasses.
"I am sorry, even if the apology is a bit late."
"Don't be." She examined the nails. "You get manicures, don't you?"
"No, not at a shop. I just take care of them on Sundays." Percy shared, face
heating as her soft fingertips rubbed at his.
"I can't convince Ron to take care of his hands at all. They're all calloused
from Quidditch and while that's fine for a back rub it's not great when things
travel southward...." She trailed off. She'd obviously cried herself silly.
Percy wasn't even sure he was supposed to hear whatever she was going to finish
that sentiment with. At least not without Ron wanting to punch him in the face
from jealousy.
He tugged at his hand. Hermione's grip tightened.
"Percy, you know you were the first one I liked?"
"Excuse me?" Percy blinked, now completely lost.
"You're the first one I had a crush on in your family." Her large brown eyes
glistened from tears. "Prefect Percy, with the glasses and all the freckles.
You were so confident but so undeniably a nerd. I couldn't phrase it that
eloquently when I was a child. You made my heart race. I became excited
whenever you paid attention to me. Even though you were kind of a rubbish
Prefect."
"I was not rubbish-" Percy began, but then just gasped as Hermione pressed her
lips against his hand, moistening the index and middle fingers. It was such a
lewd gesture that he really did yank back his hand this time, which caused
Hermione to almost fall out of her chair, so reluctant she was to release him.
Her caught her shoulders to keep her from hitting the floor. She clasped onto
him with a firm hug around his thigh. This position was even more compromising
than the one before. "Hermione!"
"You liked me too." She tilted her head, big bushy hair bunching on her
shoulders to look up his body at him. "You touched my bottom second year when I
was visiting Ron. Remember? I was pestering you for attention and you finally
gave in. You were showing me some of the advanced textbooks?" Hermione stood
up, unlatching herself from Percy's waist. Relieved, Percy took his
handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped at his finger. Some of her lipgloss
has come off, a different viscosity than the thin layer of spit she'd left on
them.
"I was leaning over your desk, looking at them, and you were standing behind
me.". She shoved the chair. It rolled, hitting the far wall with a soft thud.
She bent at the waist, pretending to be looking at something on the desktop.
Papers were scattered in a circle around the desk on the floor. "And you came
up behind me, looking over my shoulder the way you did whenever I convinced you
to tutor me, but this time I wasn't sitting, and..." Hermione lifted on hand,
placing it first on the side of her hip. Then she slowly let it drift down and
back, until it rested where the bump in her robes indicated her rump. The
pinkie linked just below the indentation from the tailbone.
Percy's face erupted into flame-red embarrassment as the memory came rushing
back.
A sweltering summer afternoon in the Burrow. The lack of privacy and constantly
noise that were par for the course during school holidays had given him a semi-
permanent headache. Hormones surged in his already aggravated body by this cute
girl traipsing after him and bothering him all the time. He'd been bored,
trapped, frustrated, and horny. Hermione, the only one who treated him with any
respect, added powerful to that dangerous mix. She'd worn her muggle outfits on
the hotter days. Blue jeans. Tank tops. Little skirts. Tight, revealing, not
something Percy was used to seeing much besides in his dad's cataloges.
Blue jeans. Perfectly normal in the streets of NYC or London, but unheard of in
the Weasley household. Tight, form fitting denim with a mesmerizing pattern
that curved to Hermione's bottom and begged to be counted one stitch at a time.
"You didn't say anything, you just started touching it. You rubbed it, neither
of us talked, then you sort of..." She squeezed. "...groped it a bit. When I
didn't swat you away, you even..." She slid her hand until it was pressing
folds of robes between her thighs, though she wasn't flexing. Just holding it
there, hand flat and tight against her panties where Percy's hand had found
itself all those summers ago.
"I'm so sorry." Percy felt arousal and shame in equal measure.
"Are you curious?" Hermione tilted her head. There was something vengeful about
the expression that scared Percy. She rubbed herself so slowly, the robes
shifting only beneath her nails. "About how it feels now, compared to then?"
Was this actually happening?
"Stop touching yourself, we're at work." Percy hissed the words, as if they
would be overheard in her office, his ears positively vermillion.
"Why are you embarrassed now? You weren't embarrassed when I was a kid. You did
this part, in fact." She licked her lips, fingers speeding up a little, the
fabric bunched bouncing in a heartier rhythm.
"Well this is different, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is. I'm an adult. I can consent now." Hermione's eyes darted down to
Percy's belt area, looking expectantly for a biological greeting. Percy's
stomach was so twisted in knots, however, that he had no visible erection. Even
if he did, the voluminous robes may have hid it.
"You must be some sort of doppelganger, or.. or... under the imperius curse.
Hermione would never act like this." Percy swallowed. Hermione laughed, once.
It sounded mean, mocking and horny at the same time.
"Who else would I tell about my first orgasm?" Hermione sulked.
Percy knew she wouldn't have told anyone. Not even Ron, considering who the
cause had been.
"I didn't mean to take your first, uh, experience."
"You didn't? You kept rubbing me, there in your bedroom, bent over your desk,
until my legs trembled and it was hard to stand up. My panties got so warm, all
the friction, and I felt this sort of swelling feeling...." Hermione stopped
touching herself, letting her words do the work her hands had done before.
"....and then you used your other hand to cover my mouth."
"You were moaning, we were going to get caught. You-you didn't say no, I
just..."
"You just kept pushing me and pushing me with your long fingers until I felt my
whole body shake and I got so wet my panties stuck to me. I was so terrified
you'd be able to feel the moisture through the denim." Hermione's body went
rigid as her fingers frantically stroked between her thighs. Just as it seemed
she couldn't go any faster, her body went rigid. She uttered a soft gasp that
was immediately familiar from all those years ago. Her body shuddered. She let
her hand drift away from between her thighs. She rubbed the back of her neck,
embarrassed. "But you weren't grossed out. You kissed me afterwards. All up and
down my neck, and my shoulders..."
"It just seemed like the thing to do." Percy defended weakly.
Hermione pushed herself back up, using the desk as leverage.
"I'm sorry." Percy muttered, shame-faced. "I never should have done that a girl
who I was supposed to guard and protect. I failed you in that way more than a
few times, didn't I?"
"I liked it." Hermione huffed. "I still think about it sometimes when I'm
having sex."
Percy nodded, not surprised by this news after the casual self-gratification
Hermione had displayed.
"I just don't really understand what you're wanting." Percy bleated.
"Let's do it. All the way. Like we never had the guts to back during the
holidays."
"S-sex?"
"Yes. We kissed and touched and groped, but it was all over the clothes."
"I didn't want to hurt you."
"Well, you can't hurt me now. I'm a big girl." Hermione strode towards him. He
didn't retreat. She grabbed his tie and pulled on it, bringing him down. She
pressed her lips against his, breathing in the stale air of a day spent in the
office and hours old mouthwash.
Percy, in a moment he knew would condemn him, wrapped an arm around the small
of her back. Although shaking, he puckered his lips and kissed her back. Shame
and horror swam through his body, from the soles of his feet to the
feverishness peak of his head. He shouldn't be doing this. Yet, at the same
time, no one would expect better from him. He'd essentially thrown his lot in
with Wizard Nazis until the last second. His moral integrity had long since
been shredded and discarded and no amount of groveling and stepping on
eggshells over the years had restored it in the eyes of society at large.
Why shouldn't he sleep with Ron's wife? He was already trash. Utterly
disposable and they already hated him, even if they had to act like they
didn't. Ron certainly never had liked him. The prat.
The was mostly testosterone talking. Later, when the image of Hermione working
her panties with her fingers wasn't so recent in his memory, he'd deny that
he'd ever thought such awful things.
His mind, thankfully closer to his mouth then his cock, interrupted. He parted
his lips to speak. Hermione jammed her tongue forward, finding a row of teeth
as resistance. She pulled her tongue back and blinked at Percy, a little dizzy.
"You haven't kissed in a while, huh?"
"Why you?"
"Why me what?"
"I understand why I'm going along with this. Why are you proposing it, though?"
He asked. "You're, well, a hero."
"Ron's having an affair." Hermione explained, each syllable hollow. Then, all
at once, the lustiness fell away, and she looked ill. "Percy, he's cheating on
me. After everything we've been through together. After how we fought with and
for each other. I... I thought it was destiny."
Percy didn't know what to say. She sagged against him, and he brushed her hair
with his finger, exhaling.
"Then... maybe, us shagging here in your office isn't what's going to make you
feel better?" Percy asked, although it almost physically hurt him to. She was
so close. He could feel the heat from her breasts squashed against his chest.
He could smell her shampoo and perfume. Her bottom was only inches away from
where his hand rested on her back. He could grab her up right now, push her
onto the desk, hitch up her robes and get the first action he'd had in ...
How long had it been? Years. Percy knew it was years, though he resisted the
thought fiercely.
"You don't want to have sex with me." She mumbled into his shoulder.
"I've wanted to have sex with you since I was sixteen, Hermione, don't be
absurd. But... if Ron has you feeling like this, then I don't imagine a five
minute frolick on your desk is going to do much to help that. Especially since
I'm not going to tell him and you're not going to tell him, unless you want me
killed. So it's pretty rotten as far as revenge goes since it'll never hurt
him."
Hermione looked thoughtfully into his eyes. He began to swell with pride.It was
a pretty
clever speech on such short notice. Then, she parted her lips, closed them,
considered, licked the bottom one, and spoke.
"Are you really only expecting to last five minutes?"
Percy stammered, but his rage faded away as he saw a hint of a smile on the
corner of her mouth.
"Well, not all of us got married right after school, you know. I... don't, uh,
work out as much as you do. I imagine my performance would improve dramatically
though in a short amount of time. Though, in this context, improvement means
adding time, not shaving it off."
"You're rambling." Hermione sniffled. Percy dabbed at her eyes with his
handkerchief, then wiped her nose.
"I can't believe i didn't notice this huge boogie while we were making out.
Ugh, it's gross." Percy scolded. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"So, you're still a lousy know-it-all."
"No one ever really changes. You're still a cry baby." Percy smirked. "Do you
know I almost got my prefect badge revoked when it was discovered I'd failed to
corral all of the first years during that incident with the troll?"
"Really?"
"Yeah, you hid in the bathroom and Harry and Ron had to save you. Everyone
blamed me for not doing my job right. I was so scared I threw up beforehand
while waiting in Dumbledore's office."
"Now THAT'S gross."
"I found a trash can, first." Percy frowned.
"So if we're not... frolicking, is how you put it?" Hermione looked sidelong at
the desk. "Why are you still holding me?"
"Let's do it, let's have the affair." Percy proposed. "Let's just... do it
right."
"Affairs are morally wrong, there is no right." Hermione's mouth was a straight
line.
"Then, let's do it like we like each other, even a little." Percy tilted his
head. "I have clearance to eat lunch in Asia all this month, no apparition
restrictions. You feel like some Thai food tomorrow instead of the cafeteria?"
Hermione pursed her lips.
"You know, I kind of do. Is this a date?"
"I think it is."
Percy kissed her cheek, right below the eye, where the tears had been.
"You'll sort it all out."
Then, he let go of her and picked up his scrolls.
"Okay, Percy, see you tomorrow..."
"Right." Being dismissed, he pushed out of the door, exhaled, and then tried
not to smile. She probably would change her mind tomorrow. This was probably
only a temporary bout of madness. He'd probably just cost himself the only
chance to bed Hermione Granger, genius, hero, and surprisingly sought-after
childhood crush.
But, anything worth doing was worth doing right.
Even having an affair.
End Notes
     Thank you for reading this fic. It is a little more sexual than the
     last one I submitted for this pairing but I tried my best to keep it
     true to the characters. I apologize if this isn't totally canon
     compliant. It's been a few years since I read the last couple of
     books. This takes place exclusively in the novel universe, not the
     movies. The dialogue doesn't make sense if everyone regularly dresses
     like muggles as they do in the films.
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