“Frey?” Hermione was suddenly knocked off her feet by an overwhelming, tidal force.
In that instant, she heard the dull thud of her body slamming against the muddy ground.
Frey rolled over without warning, his broad frame like a heavy mountain pinning her beneath him.
“Frey! What are you doing!” Hermione cried out in terror.
Frey was deaf to her cries.
His eyes remained unfocused, replaced instead by a raw, naked possessiveness.
He didn’t even bother to unbutton her shirt, tearing it open with a violent tug.
*Snap!
Snap!*
Several pearl buttons went flying.
One struck Frey sharply on the cheek, leaving a faint red scratch, but he didn’t seem to feel it.
Hermione watched him in sheer panic.
Frey’s Adam’s apple bobbed violently, his eyes locked onto her pale, slender neck.
“Let her go!” Newt barked.
Newt and Long Jiu rushed forward almost instantly.
But a powerful wave of magic erupted from Frey, forming a protective barrier that ruthlessly threw Newt and Long Jiu back.
Frey’s hands began frantically groping her—not caressing, but rather roughly taking inventory of his loot.
He rifled through all of Hermione’s pockets, dumping out her belongings in a chaotic pile: hairpins, hair ties, and the coin purse containing Pudgy…
“Don’t touch my notebook! You idiot! That’s the record of our trip!”
“Meat… meat…” Frey muttered incoherently.
Then, he suddenly lunged down and bit hard into Hermione’s shoulder.
“Ah!”
The excruciating pain brought tears rushing to Hermione’s eyes.
His bite was so fierce it felt as if he might tear her shoulder blade clean off.
She thrashed and beat against him, trying to push him away.
The metallic taste of blood seeped past Frey’s teeth and down his throat.
He froze.
His nose twitched mechanically: the scent of fresh grass, parchment, and a lemon shampoo he knew all too well.
His glassy, unfocused eyes flickered slightly, and his bite loosened.
No longer tearing at her like prey, he held her shoulder gently in his mouth instead, like a great cat carrying its cub.
His breath spilled across Hermione’s bare skin, hot as a branding iron.
Hermione glanced at the anxious Newt and at Long Jiu, whose hand was already reaching for her throwing knives.
Taking a deep breath, she waved them off despite the throbbing pain.
“Don’t… don’t come near. He didn’t mean to, he’s just…”
Her voice trembled.
Giving up all resistance, she hesitated for a moment before cupping Frey’s head with her shaking hands, forcing his forehead against hers.
“Frey, look at me. I’m Hermione Granger. Don’t you recognize me?”
Frey didn’t move.
His teeth remained clamped on her skin, and an impatient rumble vibrated in his throat. Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
“Ten years ago, when I was six, I went to Professor Newt’s house for the first time for magic restriction training.
That’s when I met you.
Do you remember?
I was wearing red leather shoes with bows on them.
It’s been ten years, Frey.
How many weekends have we spent together?
Can you even count them?
We fed the Hippogriffs together at the farm.
You took me out for ice cream—you cheapskate, you’d only ever buy me the daily special…
And yes, our big plan.
The Danish fairy tale hasn’t even come true yet, and that’s supposed to make us a fortune…
You promised you’d buy the newest, best broomstick and take me on a trip to Paris, saying we’d watch the fireworks from the rooftops.
You even promised to get me a purebred Kneazle for my birthday this year…
Have you forgotten all of it?”
“Galleons… give me… Galleons…” Frey muttered through gritted teeth, his jaws still clamped around Hermione’s shoulder.
Hermione’s tears spilled down her cheeks, dripping onto Frey’s burning forehead.
A wave of unprecedented despair washed over her, and her voice cracked with a sob:
“We all know you’re greedy, lecherous, and incredibly lazy. If you want Galleons, I can give them to you. If you want… if you want me, I can give myself to you too. But please, look into my eyes and ask me. Don’t just take it yourself! Frey. You always tell me to ‘trust the professional,’ but right now, you’re acting like a clumsy, pathetic bandit!”
Newt drew a gleaming Gold Galleon from his robes, handed it to Hermione, and silently mouthed, *Give him this.*
Miraculously, the magical shield didn’t block the coin.
Newt tugged at Long Jiu’s sleeve.
Long Jiu hesitated, looking at the delirious Frey.
She seemed to want to say something, but ultimately fell silent and followed Newt toward the canoe by the lake.
Hermione took the Galleon and pressed it firmly into Frey’s palm:
“Here, take it. Take all of it. Every stone on this ground, the water in this lake, and me… we’re all yours. But first, you have to spin this coin for me. That’s an order, Frey.”
When his fingertips brushed the familiar texture of the metal, Frey’s fingers began to move mechanically, the Gold Galleon spinning into a blur of gold light.
Hermione didn’t let go.
She leaned in close, whispering in his ear, pouring out secrets she had buried deep in her heart, never intending to share.
“When I was six, the kids at my Muggle school wouldn’t play with me. They called me a freak and said I was stupid. But you—the first time you saw me, you told me I’d definitely be the top student in the school… You also tricked me into eating Cockroach Clusters. I should have known then that you’d never be reliable a day in your life.”
Frey’s eyes twitched.
“When I was ten, you said you were going to marry me and make me your bride. I told you that you were dreaming… but actually, actually, I had already agreed in my heart. You idiot, when are you going to ask me a second time? When you ask, I’ll say I need to think about it, and then I’ll say yes on the third time. A girl has to have some propriety.”
Frey silently released his bite.
“And last year, I searched every single book in the Hogwarts library. I know you don’t actually get Floo powder vertigo. You insisted on flying me back on your broomstick every time, flying so high and fast, just to take advantage of me. It’s fine… actually, so did I… I wanted to hold you too…”
As Hermione spoke, she closed her eyes and sobbed:
“I was so scared you’d stay like this forever. Come back to me, you bastard. Don’t leave me all alone like some wild beast. I can’t picture myself marrying anyone else…”
Time drifted by on the silent island in the middle of the lake.
Finally, the high fever racking Frey’s body seemed to break in an instant.
His eyes cleared, though they still held the confusion of a splitting headache.
He realized he was pinning Hermione down in an incredibly intimate, awkward position.
“Did… did I do that?”
Hermione abruptly stopped crying.
She pushed him away and turned her back, hurriedly adjusting her torn shirt to cover her exposed skin and the bloody bite mark on her shoulder:
“Why? Were you hoping someone else did it?”
Realizing what he had done, Frey tried to explain, his words tumbling out incoherently.
“I… that… I didn’t mean to, Hermione. I swear, just now… I really have no memory of it. Do you believe me?”
Hermione turned her head to quickly wipe away her tears.
Seeing those familiar, lazy, money-grubbing eyes restlessly scanning her, all her terror melted into relief.
She threw herself into his arms, colliding with him so hard it stung.
“It’s okay. I believe you. I’m just glad you’re back.”
*Rumble.*
An incredibly poorly timed growl erupted from Frey’s stomach.
Hermione blinked, then laughed through her tears.
Standing up, she grabbed the plate of long-cold roasted potatoes from a nearby rock and shoved it into his hands.
“They’re cold, but you’ll have to make do.”
Frey mechanically popped a piece of potato into his mouth, chewing with a grimace.
“What happened? My head hurts like hell… Where’s the giant snake? Where am I? Are Grandpa and Long Jiu okay?”
Hermione had already regained her usual brisk, efficient demeanor.
She stood up to gather her scattered belongings, picking up her tossed notebook and carefully patting the dirt off it before packing it away:
“Eat first, Mr. Curiosity. Professor Newt and Long Jiu are perfectly fine. Right now, they’re probably somewhere laughing at you.”
“Roasted potatoes again?” Frey looked down at the brown chunks on the plate with a look of distaste.
“Nothing else? These are really awful.”
“Frey!” Hermione’s voice suddenly spiked.
“Do you have any idea how close you came to never eating another roasted potato in your life?!”
Frey shrank back at her shout, looking like a startled puppy.
“Believe it or not, I had a dream just now.” Frey swallowed the last bit of potato and watched Hermione’s busy back.
“I dreamed I stole piles and piles of Galleons, enough to last a lifetime, and dragged a princess back to my cave…”
Hermione didn’t even look back, letting out a cold snort.
“Well, your princess is very angry right now. She’s currently considering making you eat nothing but roasted potatoes for the rest of your life, until you turn into one.”
“Aw, come on, can I request a different princess? I really did dream I kidnapped a princess, and she had curves in all the right places and legs for days—her figure was amazing! But who knew…”
He cast a glance at Hermione’s youthful, vibrant figure, noting the curves beginning to fill out her jeans, and added with mock regret, “Who knew she’d be so fierce when she woke up…”
Hermione froze.
She spun around, pointing her wand directly at Frey:
“Shut up and eat your potatoes! And for your information, while you were busy losing your mind, that princess already cleaned out your vault! As compensation for my mental anguish, you now owe me ten thousand Galleons and your life! You are an absolute pauper now—you won’t be able to pay me back even in your next lifetime!”
They stared at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter at the same time.
After laughing for a bit, Hermione looked down at her torn collar, then touched the scar forming on her shoulder.
She mumbled softly:
“Frey, you ruined my clothes. When we get back, you have to take me shopping.”
“We’ll go to Paris—once our Danish fairy tale comes true.”
“Including the outfit you bought for Sister Long Jiu, you owe me two shopping trips now.”