Archive of Our Own ^beta

Bill stood with his arm wrapped around Hermione’s shoulder and quickly glanced around Shell Cottage. It looked the same as it always did but with a few additions. Hermione’s books, for instance, had always been there, but now lived on a shelf - or two or three - of their own next to his. She’d also brought some of her furniture, though they hadn’t really needed it. It didn’t matter though. Bill could never say no to her. Besides, if anything, all of the furniture made the place cozier, softer, more homely, more … them. 

There were a few blankets in a small wicker basket that hadn’t been there before, along with an armchair that they’d spent lots and lots of time on, doing all sorts of things. She’d brought over a few photos to hang on the wall. Photos of her and her friends, photos of them, photos of the other Weasleys. She’d even set out some toys for Crooks; a scratching post and something she’d called a cat tree house. Crooks had fun off somewhere, surely sniffing around the housing, assessing its quality and worth. 

They’d just finished moving all of Hermione’s belongings from her small flat into Shell Cottage this morning. It was official. It was home. It was theirs.

“How are you feeling?”

Tucked against him, Hermione glanced up and smiled.

“Good,” she said. “I’m excited to live here.”

“Just here?” he teased.

“With you,” she clarified, laughing.  

“Me too,” he smiled, leaning down to press a kiss against her forehead. “I can’t believe you’re here. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

They stood together for another moment, just glancing at the space in contented silence, before Bill took Hermione’s hand and led her to the armchair.

“Let’s sit,” he said.

When she went to sit on the longer loveseat next to the armchair, Bill grabbed her by the waist.

“No,” he grumbled. “Come here. On my lap.”

She settled over his thighs the way she had numerous times before, wriggling around until she was comfortable, flush against him.

“Good,” he said, pulling her closer. “Now that the hard part is over-”

“The hard part doesn’t feel like it’s over,” Hermione smirked, rocking her hips on him.

Bill growled. “Whose fault is that? Keep still, woman.”

She grinned. “What were you going to say?”

“Now that the hard part is over, let’s discuss how we should celebrate you moving in.”

He said it seriously, though obviously he had naughty intentions, and Hermione hummed, her hands sliding into the nape of his neck. He loved when she played with his hair, twirling with the strands absentmindedly as she talked. He’d cut it recently, finding it difficult to manage, and now it was shorter than it had been in many, many years. He didn’t mind it, thankfully, and neither did Hermione. If anything, she’d turned all shades of red and stuttered about how attractive he’d looked when he’d come over that night. 

“A walk on the beach?” She suggested, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Hmm,” Bill replied. That did sound nice. But there would be lots of time for that later. It was still early in the day, and the sun would be up for many more hours. “I was thinking something a little more … intimate.”

“A romantic walk on the beach?” Hermione teased.

Bill grumbled some more, his hands sliding up Hermione’s thighs. “Later.”

“Oh? Did you have other ideas on how to celebrate?”

“I was thinking,” he whispered, pressing his lips softly against hers once, then twice, then again. “We should celebrate by having sex in every room.”

“Every room?” Hermione questioned as Bill nipped her lower lip. 

“Every single one,” he confirmed, kissing her again. “Starting with this one. Right now.” 

“Well, that certainly explains this,” Hermione giggled, grinding on him again. 

Could she really blame him? He’d been hard the moment they’d started bringing Hermione’s belongings over the Shell Cottage. No. That was wrong. He’d been hard since the moment she’d agreed to live together. In fact, he hadn’t stopped being hard since then. She was here now, his in almost every sense of the word and he had to have her. 

He didn’t wait another second before he was reaching impatiently for the hem of her blouse, his heart swelling at her sweet giggles. Quickly, he lifted the blouse up her belly, then over her ribs and above her chest, until she finally lifted her arms and let him swoop it off.

“Beautiful,” he breathed, in awe of her. “You’re beautiful.”

It was sweet the way she blushed every time he complimented her, the soft pink hue creeping from her cheeks to her neck down to her chest. It was one of his favorite things about her; how she was so reactive, so sensitive to his touch. Most days, he didn’t even need to do anything to make her squirm. Just a few kisses on her lips, on her neck, and she was writhing over him, asking for more in the sweetest, neediest way. Simply put, Hermione Granger was addictive and he was addicted. 

Now, he kissed her again, needing more of her. Their lips collided in a heated embrace, soft and sweet, and Bill felt his cock thicken beneath his clothes, demanding more. He reached up to unclasp her bra and pull it off, leaving her breasts bare and ripe for the taking. His large hands slid over her chest, spanning her sternum, before he squeezed her left breast, his thumb flicking over the stiff nipple. 

“Bill,” Hermione sighed, her hands pulling on the short strands of his hair as he bent his head toward her chest. 

“What is it?” He murmured, peppering kisses over her, intentionally avoiding her erogenous zones. 

“Stop teasing me,” she writhed. 

“I’m not,” he denied, lips lingering over her collarbone. He was. He loved teasing her, getting her all riled up until she became restless and tried to top from the bottom. Then the fun really began. It was his favorite thing to do.

Bill smirked, pulling away to glance at Hermione’s pout, her lower lip jutting adorably out. He brushed his finger against it slowly, and she bit him, still pouting. Bill arched a brow in response, his other hand sliding down her waist to grip her tighter. 

Hermione didn’t say anything. She simply pouted further, causing Bill to chuckle. She was too adorable. She knew she couldn’t escape his dominance. If anything, Bill knew that she loved it, craved it, almost as much as he craved the feeling of sinking inside her.

He kissed her again, until he was breathless, until she was protesting, and even then, he continued to kiss her, deciding that tasting her was more valuable than his next breath. His lips hovered over her neck, over the hollow of her throat, until finally, finally, he moved his mouth lower and pressed a tender kiss against her breast, his tongue flicking over her nipple.

“Oh,” Hermione sighed, her arms wrapping around his neck to clutch him closer. “Yes.”

Bill groaned as he tasted her, alternating between suckling softly and biting down on her sensitive flesh, his teeth grazing the bud. She released these sweet, addictive noises that made him dizzy with desire, noises that made him want to spend the rest of his life right there, in that exact position, Hermione pressed against him, soft and vulnerable, letting him please her. 

He released her breast, now glistening with his spit, and trailed open mouth kisses over her chest toward her other breast, quickly taking her other nipple into his mouth. Her hands tightened in his scalp, and he winced at the tug, biting down again on her nipple.

“Mhm,” he grunted. “Fucking love your tits.”

Love simply didn’t cover how he felt. He was obsessed. Addicted. Mad with want. If he could spend the rest of his days, mouth attached to Hermione’s supple tits as she sat on his lap and kept his cockwarm, Bill would be one happy, happy man. 

He growled at the thought of it, suckling harder, and Hermione let out a small gasp, making his cock twitch. When he finally pulled back, her chest was beginning to bloom with those satisfying blemishes he loved, the ones that indicated his claim on her, made him feel like a wild, possessed animal. His hands reached up and groped her breasts, pressing them together, and she squirmed. 

“Bill,” she whined, letting go of his neck. “Please.”

“No,” he said, taking both of her wrists in one hand as she reached for him. “No touching me. Not until I say.”

She pouted again but didn’t resist further, letting him hold her wrists. 

“Good girl,” he praised, kissing her again. She was so good at following rules — mostly – and so fucking perfect for him. He knew what she needed. She needed him to quiet that loud brain of hers, fuck her into oblivion until there was nothing she could focus on but the sensation of his cock filling her utterly and completely. 

Bill’s cock ached, desperate to pump into her, and Bill shifted quickly, trying to adjust himself in his bottoms. Still, he didn’t stop kissing her. He couldn’t. They’d been kissing all of five more seconds before something pounced on them, knocking them away from each other.

“Oof,” Bill grunted, peering down.

It was Crookshanks on Hermione’s lap. Or it was Crookshanks trying to get between them, onto Hermione’s lap. 

“Oh,” Hermione said. “Looks like Crooks wants to join the party.”

Crooks let out a long yewl, headbutting Bill. 

Bill blinked, sighing. He was unsurprised at the interruption. He’d dealt with many of them before.

Bill had an … interesting relationship with Crookshanks. For as long as he’d been dating Hermione, he’d been absolutely hated by the part cat part kneazle beast. There were moments, such as these, where Bill suspected Crooks was actively plotting against him. For one, he always chose the most inopportune moments to disrupt them, to creep into the room and crawl over their bodies. Sometimes, Bill swore, Crooks even glared at him with narrowed eyes. Of course, he’d never say that out loud. He knew it sounded insane, the thought of a cat plotting his demise. But he was convinced it was true. For the most part, though he had his moments of tolerance, Crooks did not like him. He didn’t know if it was a purely Bill Weasley opposition that Crooks held or if he’d behaved this way toward all of Hermione’s partners. He had an inkling it might just be him. 

Obviously, they’d managed before, with Hermione being able to stay over at Shell Cottage, leaving them with plenty of uninterrupted time. It could be a problem, though, now that both Hermione and Crookshanks occupied Shell Cottage alongside him. 

Bill sighed again, watching as Hermione coo’d at her cat. He was older now — the cat, thank you — much too old to be acting in such childish ways.

“Crooks wants to celebrate too,” Hermione said, smiling at Bill.

`Bill glanced down at the cat, who simply flipped onto his back, revealing his fluffy belly. It was a test. One Bill had failed many times before. The position, the sweet look on his face, the fluffy fur, all of it indicated that Crooks wanted to be petted. Bill knew better, though. He’d fallen into the trap too many times to fall for it now, barely scraping by the skin of his teeth the few times he tried to rub Crook's belly. Honestly, it might have been more terrifying than Greyback’s attack. 

Still, as he watched Hermione reach for Crook's belly, watched as the little devil began to purr, he couldn’t help but glare at the cat. He only reacted like that with Hermione. Not Bill. Never Bill. 

Bill didn’t have the heart to tell his beautiful, sweet girlfriend that her cat hated him. For one, it sounded ridiculous. Bill was a grown adult. There was no reason for him to say such a thing. He could deal with it. Besides, it was too late now. They had already moved in. If getting to be with Hermione meant putting up with her cat and how often he cockblocked them, Bill would happily accept. 

“What are you doing?” Bill asked as Hermione started to shuffle around. 

“Looking for my bra - ah, I found it!” She put it on quickly, pulling on her blouse next. 

“But-“ 

He didn’t even finish what he wanted to say, didn’t even get the opportunity to lament over Hermione’s soft tits disappearing into her clothes again. Hermione was already picking up Crooks and moving off his lap.

“I’m just going to go give him a treat,” she informed Bill as she disappeared into the next room. 

Bill slumped into the chair, his cock softening. He glanced down and sighed again, heavily, dramatically. 

There went his plans for sex in every room.

A few days later, Bill woke up to what felt like a ball of hair in his mouth. For a second, he didn’t know whether it was Hermione’s or Crooks. Since their move into Shell Cottage, Bill was getting accustomed to finding hair, all sorts, everywhere. Sometimes, he could swear Crooks left his hairballs all over Bill’s clothes, his robes, his belongings on purpose. Like he was trying to stake his claim. 

Bill sputtered, almost out of habit, slowly blinking awake, his eyes adjusting to his surroundings.

Ah.

It was just Hermione. This time. 

Tucked against him, chest to chest, was her soft, sweet warmth. Merlin. He’d never tire of it. Waking next to her. Spending their mornings together, slow and leisurely, before they started their days. It made him grateful to be alive. Of course they’d had days like this before, but it was different now, more special, the sharing of routines, their bodies syncing into the same circadian rhythm. It was special, despite how ordinary it was, every moment he got to have with her.

She was murmuring softly as she often did in her sleep, and he pulled her closer, his hands slipping around her waist to hold her against him. He glanced over her shoulder at the Muggle clock she had set on her bedside table. It was 5:42 AM. Too early to be awake on a Saturday. But obviously not too early for a boner. He groaned softly, shifting on the bed, trying to get comfortable. It had been a few days since they’d last had sex, before Hermione had moved in. He really wasn’t to blame, it was only a natural reaction. He was obsessed with her, his Hermione. Who wouldn’t respond? A mad man, that’s who.

Almost as if she sensed it, she wriggled, her eyes fluttering open slowly. Bill groaned again, unable to help himself from grinding against her.

Fuck, she felt so good. He couldn’t wait even a second more. He needed her. Now. Yesterday.

“Morning,” she whispered groggily, stretching out her arms.

“Morning,” Bill whispered, leaning in to kiss her. 

“Mmf,” she protested, the same way she did every morning when he tried to kiss her. Something about wanting to clean up and brush her teeth. Remarks Bill brushed away with his tongue. He didn’t care about any of that. He just needed her. Any, every, version of her he could get.  

It didn't take long before she relaxed into the kiss, also something she did every morning. Their lips met softly, at first, then with more urgency, Bill’s ache for her driving ahead their movements. His hand traced over the curve of her waist before slipping underneath her nightshirt, needing to feel her bare skin.

“So soft,” he murmured as he deepened their kiss, their tongues colliding, his cock hardening to an uncomfortable length. “I need you.”

“Mhmm,” Hermione moaned sweetly as his hands crept up her ribs, closer and closer to her chest. 

He’d barely brushed his fingers against the underside of her breasts when a weight, an unexpected large weight, landed on Bill’s chest, startling him. He jolted, pulling away, only to make eye contact with Crookshanks’s old beady eyes. 

If eyes could kill, Bill would have died right at that instance.

“Merlin’s sake,” he growled under his breath. “Not this again.”

Crooks let out a loud meowww, his tail up as he turned toward Hermione, leaving Bill with a view of his furry behind.

Next to him, Hermione giggled, pulling away from Bill and sitting up to reach for Crooks, seemingly ready to end their encounter. But Bill was not one to be so easily deterred. Not again. 

“Not now, Crookshanks," he murmured as he attempted to gently push aside the cat. “The adults are busy.”

He knew it was absolutely no use. The cat did what he wanted. And apparently what he wanted was to ruin Bill’s goddamn life. Still, he could not be deterred this easily. He glared at the creature, hoping to communicate that he meant business. Crook’s merely let out another loud mreowww, returning Bill’s look of disapproval with his own. A smack to the face with Crook’s tail indicated that Bill, in fact, was one to be easily deterred. 

He tried not to glare at the orange monster as he flopped dramatically between him and Hermione and began to purr, a self-satisfied look on his villainous face. 

“I think it’s so sweet,” Hermione said, scratching Crooks’ head.

Bill glanced skeptically at his girlfriend. “You think it’s sweet your cat prevents us from having sex?”

She grinned. “He’s just territorial.”

Bill glared at the beast once more and sighed loudly, knowing that, no matter what he said, he had already lost the battle.

Bill arrived home to Shell Cottage after a long day at Gringott’s to find Hermione singing in the kitchen, wearing nothing but one of his button-ups. He passed by Crooks, who seemed to be asleep on the chair by the bookshelf, on his way to the kitchen and reached for Hermione.

Finally. Some uninterrupted time. 

He didn’t waste another second before placing his lips against hers, fast and frenzied. 

“Oh,” she mumbled between kisses. “Hi.”

Bill growled, pushing her onto the counter, crowding between her legs. He’d been thinking about her all day; about wanting to kiss her, taste her, bring her to orgasm on his tongue, his cock.

“You’re acting feral tonight,” she moaned as he quickly undid the buttons, pulling the shirt off of her shoulders.

“It’s not my fault,” he whispered, kissing her collarbone. “Your lovely cat keeps cockblocking me. Plus, the full moon is soon.”

“The full moon isn’t until two months,” she laughed, shoving at his chest. 

He caught her wrist, holding it between them. He didn’t know how much time they had before the beast awoke. 

“And you’re going to take my knot then,” he murmured, his voice low and thick with desire. “Aren’t you?”

Hermione stopped wriggling at his words, and he pulled away and arched a brow at her, thrilled at the red flush traveling down her chest.

It was something they’d discussed for a few weeks now, even before she’d moved in. The full moon, the ritual, the claiming. Bill wanted it more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life, more than he wanted his next breath of air. He had changed a lot since being attacked by Greyback. Though he’d never transformed fully, he had been altered in other ways. He was still human, and he would always be, but certain parts of his physique were … Different. Just different. Plus, now he had all of these urges, these cravings, and the full moon, no matter how far away it was, didn’t help. But he couldn’t think about all of that now. He had other pressing priorities. 

He pulled away his shirt, baring her pretty, plump breasts, and bent down to take her nipple into his mouth. Finally. Reunited. 

“Aren’t you?” he asked pointedly as he bit down on sensitive flesh.

Hermione nodded shyly, sweetly, her eyes fluttering closed, and his cock thickened further. 

“Good fucking girl,” he praised as he flicked his tongue around her areola. Even Crooks wouldn’t ruin Bill’s plans for the night of the full moon… He hoped.

“Bill,” Hermione whispered, her hands sliding into his hair to hold him at her chest. 

She tasted sweet, like she always did, and Bill groaned, his hand sliding lower and lower, toward her core. 

He should have known better. He really should have. His hand had barely grazed Hermione’s knickers when a meowwww echoed through the room, announcing the arrival of one orange menace. 

“Fuck’s sake,” Bill grunted, just as Crooks jumped onto the counter, making his way to Hermione’s lap and plopping down. He nudged Bill away with his head, and when Bill refused to move, glaring down at the animal, Crooks pawed him, his claws out.

Bill grumbled under his breath. For such an ancient cat, he sure was feisty. Not to mention agile. 

Not to mention evil. 

Hermione laughed again, the amused look back on her face as Crooks plopped down on her, forcing aside Bill’s hand. 

“Crooksblocked again,” she teased. 

Bill could only sigh in response, his cock throbbing. 

Just a day or two later, Bill found himself alone at Shell Cottage with Crooks. He’d just gotten home himself and knew he had only a few moments before Hermione arrived. He didn’t have much time, but he had just enough to do what needed to be done, once and for all. 

“Alright,” Bill said, peering down at the biggest threat in his life. “Enough is enough. We need to have a chat.”

“Mreow.”

 Bill narrowed his eyes.

“Yes, you are going to listen to me. This has gone too far! It was cute at first but now it’s intrusive.”

“Mrrp,” Crooks responded calmly, licking his paws.

“Come on,” Bill said, exasperated. “Don’t you want your mom to have a healthy sex life?”

Crooks growled, a menacing rumble that startled even Bill, revealing that he could give less of a fuck about Bill getting his dick wet. 

Fine, he’d have to change tactics. 

“Well,” Bill crossed his arms. “Think about it. Wouldn’t it be fun to have a little baby to play with?”

Crooks let out a long, unentertained yowl that made Bill cover his ears.  

“Of course, I’m not trying to baby trap her!” He said defensively. 

“Rrrrrr.” 

“I meant in the future.” Bill rolled his eyes. “But there’s nothing wrong with letting us practice now, you know.”

A hiss was Bill’s only response. A loud hiss followed by a series of louder meows. Apparently, there was a lot wrong with letting them practice now. 

“Obviously, I’m planning to propose! Why? Are you planning to ruin that too?”

“Mrow,” Crooks replied sweetly, beginning to groom himself.

“Of course you are. Okay, listen here you little shit,” Bill grumbled. “Don’t think I’m above leaving you in the bathtub -”

Crooks continued to stare at Bill like he was unamused, his paw hovering in the air.

“-With the water running,” Bill continued, his eyes narrowed. 

Crooks meowed again, a soft cry unlike the ones Bill had just heard.

“Meww.”

“That’s right,” he tried to say assertively though he knew he’d never do such a thing, not even to the beastly animal that had prevented him from laying with Hermione the last three times he’d tried. “Don’t think you can underestimate me.”

“What are you doing?” Came a voice behind him.

Bill turned around to see Hermione standing by the counter, her eyes darting between Crooks and Bill.

“Nothing,” he said. “We were just having a boy’s chat.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Were you threatening my cat with locking him in the bathroom?”

“No!” Bill lied. 

Next to him, Crooks purred, a smug, satisfied sound that made Bill want to spray bottle the creature. 

“Are you sure?” Hermione said, her voice light with amusement. “It sure sounded like it.”

Bill pinched his nose. “Hermione. Darling. You’ve been living here for almost two weeks, and in that time, we haven’t had sex once. Aren’t you concerned?”

“We had sex in the shower the day I moved in!” Hermione said, moving toward Crooks and taking him into her arms. 

Bill almost pouted. It should have been him she was reaching for. 

“Yeah,” Bill muttered under his breath. “At your flat. Before you moved in. And since then, I haven’t even been able to breathe near you without somebody trying to interrupt us.”

The devil in Hermione’s hand meowed happily, and it took everything within Bill not to pull out his wand and cast a curse. 

“He won’t always be like this,” Hermione reassured Bill as she ran her fingers through Crook's fur. “He’ll get used to not being the only man in my life in just a few more weeks, I’m sure.”

“Weeks?!” Bill exclaimed, his head nearly exploding. He would literally die if he had to wait a few more weeks to have her.

“Come on. Think about it. Anticipation will only make things hotter when we finally have sex again,” Hermione whispered, learning toward Bill. 

He couldn’t resist her even if he tried. Plus, she did have a point. An excellent one. The thought of not having to hold himself back, of rutting into her however he wanted, demanding that she be a good girl and fucking take it as he pounded into her over and over again gave him pause.

“Fine,” he growled grouchily. “Don’t think for a second I’m going to hold back the night of the full moon.”

Or sooner. Ideally sooner. Otherwise, he’d die.

“Oh, I won’t,” Hermione replied. “I’m ready for everything you’ve got.”

Bill wasn’t too sure about that. How was she going to take his knot if she couldn’t even take his cock without them being interrupted? Still. The full moon was still a few weeks away. They had time to prepare, and Bill could wait. 

Right?

Wrong. 

A few days later, Bill’s hand slipped beneath Hermione’s shirt, reaching up to fondle her breasts. Merlin, she felt good. 

They had been in their bedroom, just sitting, chatting, talking about their day, when they’d started making out all of a sudden. It was all of the tension, the desire building between them. Bill wasn’t sure how much longer he could survive before he was crawling to his knees and begging to have her. He’d do it. There was no shame in wanting your woman this bad. None whatsoever. 

Except tonight, he didn’t need to beg. Tonight, it was just the two of them. 

The door to their bedroom was closed, impenetrable by cat or kneazle. They hadn’t planned it. In fact, in anything, Bill had given up, given in to the demands of the dementor living in his home, and had not been expecting nor preparing to initiate anything. 

It had just happened. 

So he was going to seize the moment, milk it for every second it was worth.

“Come here,” he demanded, impatiently yanking Hermione’s trousers off. “Take off your knickers.”

He was already hard. So hard it actually, literally hurt. He wasn’t sure if he’d last longer than ten seconds inside of her, but he didn’t care. Fine, he did. But he was too mad with want to do anything about it. Plus, he’d make it good for her in other ways. 

Hermione giggled, teasing him, but she still tilted her hips, shimmying out of her knickers. Bill nearly salivated at the sight of her. Impatient, he didn’t even wait for her to pull off her knickers all of the way, leaving them dangling at her ankles before he leaped for her. He was touch starved. No, that wasn’t it. He was Hermione starved. Yes. That was it. 

He knocked apart her thighs, settling in between them, his mouth practically salivating. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, licking up her slit. It had been too long. Two weeks too many. No, it had been longer. Hell, it didn’t matter how long. Even one day without tasting her was too long. 

“Oh,” Hermione panted as he ate her cunt. “Yes.”

He was ravenous. He went at her like a starved animal, feral and messy and impolite. His tongue flicked over her clit, sucking on the little nub. He was pretty sure his chin was soaking wet, that Hermione was crying and shaking and moaning something, but he was too lost in it to care. 

“Yes,” Hermione cried. “Fuck! Just like that.”

He growled, licking up her absolutely drenched slit. Fuck, he wanted to stay there for hours, decades, spend the rest of his life worshiping at his altar. 

Beneath his own clothes, clothes he had yet to tug off, his cock throbbed, practically screamed at him to fuck her. He would. Soon. He needed this first. He needed her juices smeared all over his face. He wanted her lingering on his tongue as he sank into her and watched her face scrunch up in that cute way it did whenever she took his fat cock. 

He ground his groin onto the mattress, hoping the friction would stave off some of the desperation he felt. It didn’t. In fact, it just made everything worse. His sensitive flesh rubbing against his bottoms, begging for release as he grunted and continued devouring his meal. 

He pressed his nose firmly against her clit, shoving his tongue as far as he could inside her, wanting to drown in her taste. 

“Fucking obsessed with your pussy,” he growled. 

“Bill,” Hermione gasped, clutching his arm. “I’m - you’re going to make - I’m going to come!”

He growled, burying his head further into her thighs, working harder. It was a demand, a quiet one, but still a demand, and Hermione understood perfectly. She crashed through her orgasm, soaking his face, her thighs shaking around him. Bill continued to lick her through it, not yet satisfied. He was positive he could turn this orgasm into another one and he was going to do just that. Then he was going to fuck her. Finally fuck her. And he was going to be ruthless, give her everything he’d been wanting for days, just pound into her until she was spasming and tightening around him, trying to milk him dry. Then he was going to do it all over again, until she was whimpering, telling him no more, pushing him aside. And then he’d give her a break, before repeating the action over again. 

“Another one,” he demanded, his tongue relentless. “Soak my face, Hermione.”

Hermione whined as he licked up and down her slit with fervor, his hands parting her sensitive, wet flesh fingers probing gently at her entrance. Fuck. She was so tight and wet. He couldn’t wait to sink into her warm heat. 

It didn’t take long for her to explode again, for the orgasm to barrel into another one. She arched her hips off the bed, nearly hitting him in the face with her pelvis, and Bill grunted, licking up the last of her juices.

“Holy fuck,” Hermione panted for breath as Bill shuffled back and quickly pulled down his pants, revealing his cock. It bobbed against his stomach, thick, full, fucking aching. 

“I can’t wait,” he growled. “Need to be inside you.”

Hermione nodded quickly, her hands stretched out, reaching for him. “Yes. Yes. Please. I need you.”

Bill uttered a series of curses, taking his throbbing cock into his fist, squeezing it tightly. Internally, as he fisted himself, he uttered a prayer, an incantation, a spell of sorts, that he wouldn't lose his shit and come in three seconds. Chant and prayer completed, he shuffled closer.

“Legs up,” he grunted. 

Hermione quickly pulled her knees up to her chest, hooking her arms beneath them, and Bill settled in between her thighs. 

He slapped his heavy cock against her flesh, and she moaned, her eyes squeezing shut. He loved how responsive she was. How quickly and easily she turned red, how she tilted her hips seeking him, how she moaned and screamed his name. Most of all, he loved how desperately she begged for him to come inside of her.

“Bill,” she whined.

“I know,” he groaned. “Fuck. That’s so hot. We look so fucking good together.”

“Please,” she whimpered. 

He slid his length over her, parting her lips, slapping the thick head of his cock against her clit once, then again, watching her reaction. Her mouth was parted slightly, the flush on her cheeks traveling southwards, and she was already shaking. It helped, knowing that she was just as affected as him, just as needy and desperate. He needed it, almost as much as he needed her. 

He shifted closer, his body flush against hers, and slid his cock down to her opening, pressing against her when a loud yeowrl sounded at the door. At first, it didn’t register. Bill was too lost in Hermione to notice, too focused on his dick sinking into her snug little cunt to pay attention. But then it came again and again and again, joined with scratching at the door. 

Bill’s dick nearly weeped. No, it was weeping. It was weeping and dripping with precum, begging him to ignore the noise and fuck his girl. 

He snarled, looking down at Hermione, who was biting her lip. 

“We should-”

“No,” Bill practically pleaded. “Don’t say it.”

Hermione bit her lip again, and Bill squeezed his eyes shut, pinching his nose. 

Bill Weasley was a good man. Normally. Usually. Typically. Except at that moment, he didn't care. He didn’t about being a good man. All he cared about was sinking so deep inside Hermione that they never separated. 

“Let’s just ignore him,” he continued. “He probably doesn’t even need anything.”

Hermione hesitated, and Crooks let out a particularly loud wail, like he was experiencing a Crucio, like every nerve in his small body was being put through paralyzing torture. It did sound bad. Bad enough that Bill didn’t even wait for Hermione to respond. He already knew what she would say, anyway. He just sighed, pulling back. He knew that there was no such thing as ignoring Crooks. He’d yowl and howl and hiss and roar until he knocked the house down. 

“I’ll let him in,” Bill growled, tucking his cock, his very angry cock, back into pants with a bit of difficulty.

He practically marched over, grumbling under his breath, every inch of his skin on fire for multiple reasons. He couldn’t believe it. He had been three seconds away from prematurely ejaculating inside Hermione. Couldn’t Crooks have waited just those three damn seconds?

He harshly yanked open the door, practically tearing it off its hinges, and peered down at the floor.

“You,” Bill snarled. “I’m sure, are aware of the boy who cried wolf.”

Crooks mreowed, his tail swishing happily as he entered the room and immediately jumped onto the bed.

“Mreow.”

Bill rolled his eyes. “I know you’re not a boy damnit. The cat who cried wolf.”

Bill wished, in a moment of temporary insanity, that he could actually transform to a wolf just to prove a point. 

From the bed, Hermione simply gazed at him with amusement, her lips tugged up, an apologetic look on her face.

“Crooks,” she scolded. “You can’t keep doing this.”

Finally. Finally. Maybe now that it was coming from Hermione, the monster would listen, would actually let them have some privacy and peace.

Except Hermione scolding Crooks lasted all of three seconds.

“Oh, you’re so silly,” she said in her next breath, rubbing his belly. “Aren’t you just the silliest?”

She gave him a kiss on the head and started cooking about what a good boy he was and Bill practically had an aneurysm. A good boy? A GOOD BOY? No. Absolutely not. He would not enable such ridiculous notions.

“Don’t encourage him!” 

“What?” Hermione glanced up, a puzzled look on her face. “What do you mean?”

“Hermione,” Bill sighed. “Darling. We were about to have sex one minute ago before your little rascal started crying at the door. I tucked my dick away, only for me to open it and him to be perfectly fine. Why did it sound like he was about to die?”

“Oh,” Hermione waved away Bill’s concern. “Sometimes Crooks sounds like that.”

“Then why didn’t we just ignore him?” Bill practically whined, knowing he sounded like a petulant child. “We haven’t had sex in years.”

Never mind that it had been just a few days at most.

Hermione burst into laughter. “The Weasley theatrics really did not skip any of you, huh?”

Bill pouted. “I’m serious.”

“I know you are,” Hermione replied. “But we can’t ignore him! It’s just better to be safe than sorry in case anything does go wrong, especially since he’s older now.”

Bill sighed, about to respond but it was too late. Hermione was already distracted. 

“Aren’t you? Aren’t you, Crooks?” Hermione said, placing an aggressive series of kisses onto his head. Crooks mreowed cheerily, stretching out his paws, and Bill swore, looking at him with a smirk of victory on his face. 

Bill sighed for the millionth time in a matter of weeks. 

Death by dry dick, it appeared, was how he was going to go.

A couple of days following the last incident as Bill had started to denote the days of Crooks’ victories, Bill stood beneath the shower head. Nowadays, it seemed like this was the only way he got his cock wet. It was tragic, but he’d take what he could get. One thing was for sure, though — tugging on his length and spilling his seed down the drain was definitely not as hot as watching Hermione swallow. But desperate times called for desperate measures. And Bill. Well, he couldn’t deny that he was fucking desperate. Embarrassingly desperate. 

It had been almost two weeks since he and Hermione had had sex, and it was all because of Crooks. Evil, meddlesome, conniving, manipulative Crookshanks. Bill didn’t want to think such things about a small creature. He really didn’t. He was above that. He was no Malfoy. But he couldn’t help it. Other than the night where he’d feasted on her, Bill hadn’t come close to being near Hermione without Crooks growling or screaming or behaving like he was dying. Hermione laughed it all off, saying he was still being territorial, to give him another few days, and it would be alright. Bill tried to be patient instead of pout but he was sure that he was being punished. He was sure of it. He just didn’t understand what or why. 

The full moon was approaching faster and faster. They should have been practicing. He was worried. Worried for her, and also worried he’d lose all control that night, be unable to restrain himself. He already felt so desperate for her, even while he was on his suppressants. The full moon didn’t really matter in that regard. He felt feral, ravenous, for her, no matter the day, no matter the phase of the moon, no matter the circumstance. But he couldn’t stand the thought of hurting her. 

Enough was enough. Bill could stand this no longer.

He had a plan. 

Not an extravagant or extensive plan. Just a simple one. It was time to take matters into his own hands – which, unfortunately, he had been doing regarding other needs as well. 

Once he was finished showering, he wrapped a towel around his waist, shaking out his hair. Hermione wouldn’t be home for another few hours, staying for an extra shift at St. Mungo’s so he had plenty of time. Bill hadn’t heard Crooks since he’d walked through the Floo, but he was sure he was solemnly up to no good somewhere in the house. He tugged on his pajamas and moved through the house. How exactly was he supposed to call for a cat that seemed to be plotting his demise?

“Crooks?” He tried, walking through the bedroom.

Nothing.

“Crookshanks?” 

Still, nothing.

“Here, kitty, kitty,” he said next, feeling absolutely ridiculous. As if Crooks would respond to that. He was probably too proud, too regal, Bill thought, scoffing to himself. Pretentious little fucker. 

“Pspspspspsp,” he whispered next as a last resort. He'd heard Hermione say that before to lure him out. Maybe it would work. What was the harm in trying? 

But still no response. Bill wandered over to the kitchen and shook Crooks' container of treats. 

“Alright," he called. "Come out now, or I’m tossing this into the bin and telling Hermione you ate them all.”

Ha! If that didn't work, Bill didn't know what would. He had no qualms about stooping low to Crooks’ level. One way or another, he was going to have this damn talk with the cat. 

At first, nothing happened, and he was sure he’d been ignored yet again, even with the treats in hand. But then Bill heard the little pitter patter of paws on the floor before Crooks appeared, moving closer and looking at him inquisitively.

Bill shook the treats again. 

“Is this really all it takes?” he mused. “For you to leave us alone?”

Crooks mreowed quietly, walking in between Bill’s legs, rubbing against him. It was the sweetest he had been to Bill, and immediately Bill was skeptical, suspicious. 

"Meow."

“How do I know you mean it?” He asked, scrutinizing Crooks’ for cues of emotional manipulation. 

Crooks meowed again, the sound gentler than usual, and Bill threw all caution to the window. He was desperate, alright? 

D E S P E R A T E.

“Alright, alright. Don’t pretend to be adorable,” he said, crouching down. “I’ll give them to you, but you’re not getting more than two.”

Crooks gently meowed again. 

“Mreow.”

“And you’re going to listen to me first,” Bill said, still holding the treats hostage. 

Crooks let out another gentle but wary meow.

“Mreoww.”

“Yes, you are. You have no choice if you want treats,” Bill said. “I’ve had enough. Hermione’s had enough. You can’t keep interrupting us or scratching at the door and whining. It’s not going to work anymore. We’re going to start ignoring you.”

“Meow merow mreow mreowmeroewmeow”

“Fine,” Bill agreed. “Hermione might not ignore you, but I certainly will. No more games. You give us our privacy and I give you treats. Got it?”

“Meow mreow meow.”

“I mean it,” Bill said sternly. “Let’s shake on it.”

Then Bill reached for Crook’s, who merely gave him a look of contention but didn’t try to hiss or scratch. Bill picked up his paw, lifting it up and down once, then twice. 

“Alright,” Bill said. “No more meddling, and I’ll give you treats.”

“Mreowww.”

“Good,” Bill said, dropping a few treats onto his hand. “Here.”

Crooks gazed skeptically at his hand, sniffing it like Bill was holding poison in his hands instead of cat candy. 

Bill rolled his eyes. “If you’re going to be that -”

He didn’t finish his sentence because Crooks pawed at his hands, licking at his palm, and gobbled up both pieces at once, munching on them contentedly, purring with satisfaction once he was done. 

It was adorable. Adorable enough that Bill held his hand out and pet the damn cat, stroking his head.

“Good Crooks,” he praised. “I knew you could listen.”

“Meow, meorw mreow,” Crooks replied, walking through Bill’s legs again, his tail swishing once more.

“No,” Bill immediately shook his head. “You can’t have more.”

Crooks glanced up, his fluffy face softer and sweeter than Bill had ever seen, his eyes blinking slowly. “Mreow, mreow.”

Bill hesitated, looking at the container. It was old, all of the writing on the paper scratched off. He wasn’t sure how many treats were too many. Surely, a few more couldn’t hurt, right? Besides, it seemed like they were bonding, like Crooks was actually on his side for once. So what if Bill had needed to barter for sympathy. Clearly, it was working.

“Oh, alright,” he said. “A few more can’t possibly hurt.” 

He shook out a few treats, Crooks practically vibrating with excitement on the floor in between his legs, and crouched down to hand them over. Again, Crooks gobbled them up, happily, even letting Bill pet him on the back. He was soft, softer than Bill remembered, and kind of sweet. 

“Oh,” Bill murmured. “You’re really a sweet thing, aren’t you? It just takes a little. I know what that’s like. Your mum’s the same way.”

“Rrr,” Crooks growled.

“Please,” Bill replied. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I mean.”

“Mreoww.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bill replied, still petting Crooks on the back. “You’re not innocent.”

“Mreoww, meowmrow.”

“No. I’m not giving you anymore,” Bill stood, placing the treats container back where he’d found them, tucked into a small corner in between the fridge and the cabinet, somewhere out of sight from Crooks.

“Well,” he said, stretching out his arms. “I’m glad we’ve got that settled.”

A pep in his step, Bill moved towards the fridge. Maybe he could surprise Hermione with a romantic date at home; an uninterrupted nice meal with candles, followed by a moonlit walk on the beach, and then him and Hermione in bed, all night long. It was perfect. He almost rubbed his hands together in glee. 

As Crooks disappeared into the other room, Bill gathered ingredients and set them on the counter. A creamy mushroom gnocchi with a side salad was on the menu for tonight. He hummed as he worked, sauteing the mushrooms, bringing everything to a simmer. The aroma of onion, garlic, spices, wine filled the kitchen, and Bill’s stomach rumbled in anticipation. 

He checked the time quickly, noting that Hermione would be home soon. No matter. He was almost finished, just needed to set the table and find the candles. He couldn’t wait to surprise her.

A few moments later, the dinner table set, as Bill lit the last candle, Hermione walked in through the Floo.

“Hi,” she called from the other room. “I’m home!”

Home. He smiled at the word. He loved it, this domestic life they’d created together, the fact that Shell Cottage was no longer the place he inhabited but a home he’d built together with Hermione, even in the few days since she’d moved in.  

Bill stuck his head out of the dining room. “I’m in here!”

“Coming!” She called.

Oh, you will be, Bill thought to himself. He hadn’t seen or heard Crooks since he’d given him treats. He imagined the cat was elsewhere in the house, keeping up his part of the bargain, and he thanked the stars. He heard the shuffle of footsteps before Hermione appeared.

“Oh,” she breathed. “Wow.”

He reached for her immediately. “Thought I’d make a nice dinner for us tonight.”

Hermione smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck, and Bill bent down to kiss her, trying hard not to get lost in the kiss. Not yet. He was confident there would be plenty of time for that later. Plus, it had been some time since they’d had a sweet and romantic date like this, even if they were still in their place of residence.

“Have I told you how much I love you?” Hermione murmured against his lips, her body relaxed against his.

“Hmm,” Bill smiled. “Tell me again.”

“I,” she said in between kisses. “Love - you - so - freaking - much.”

“I love you too. So much more.”

She pouted. “Impossible.”

He simply chuckled in response and she stuck out her tongue.

“Is it alright if I shower really quick? I want to wash off the grime from the hospital.”

“Go,” he said, slapping her on her arse. “Go shower and get changed. I can wait.”

“You’re the best,” she called as she left the room. “I don’t deserve you!”

Bill smiled, shaking his head, and went about his movements. 

The food was just about done, just a few more minutes in the pot, and it would be perfect. By that time, Hermione would likely be ready. 

Contentedly, he began to put away the dirty dishes that had accumulated while cooking; the cutting board, the measuring cups, and a few spatulas. Then, the kitchen less cluttered and cleaner than it had been moments ago, Bill began to set up the table, retrieving the china from the cabinets and setting it down on the table. 

For a brief second, it crossed his mind that Crooks hadn’t come out to greet Hermione, something he normally did. Maybe he was in the bedroom and Hermione had seen him on her way to the washroom. The thought left as quickly as it came, Bill placing the dishes down.

“Alright,” Hermione called as she walked back into the room dressed in a pair of soft pajamas and one of his old sweaters, her hair haphazardly tossed into a messy bun. “I’m all clean!”

She looked adorable, utterly decadent. Any other day, Bill would have dragged her into the bedroom to have his way with her, but he’d just set the dinner table. Plus, it wasn’t so easy these days, dragging Hermione into the bedroom to have his way with her.

“Right in time,” he smiled, taking her head. “Come on. Let’s eat.”

He led her by the hand to the table and pulled out her chair, waiting until she was seated before he took a seat himself.

“It smells amazing,” Hermione said. “My stomach is growling.”

The two of them sat together, filling their plates with the delicious meal, eating and chatting about their days. 

“I understand,” Hermione said halfway through. “I really do. I know there aren’t enough funds to support every department. But this program is crucial for the improvement of the patients in the Ward. Without it, their prognoses are only going to worsen.”

For the past few years, Hermione had been working as a researcher at St. Mungo’s in the Janus Thickey Ward. In the beginning, all of her training had been standard, focused on treatment for magical ailments, but in recent years, she’d been leading new research centered around neurocognitive health.

“If we had the resources to better understand mutation carriers and biomarkers,” she shook her head. “It would make a world of a difference.”

“They’re still not negotiating?” Bill asked curiously. She’d requested additional funding to continue the project she and her team had started for the last half year to no avail. 

“Well,” Hermione said, taking a bite of her food. “They said there are other competing priorities. The Maternity Ward is requesting funds to enhance their midwifery clinic and The Admissions Department wants to redo the lobby, which, in all honesty, is not just a waste of time and money but also offensive. The lobby is bloody fucking fine.” 

Bill frowned, listening to her frustrations. He knew how much it meant to her; the research, her patients, their families, and wished he could do something to support her, help her.

“The good news,” she continued. “Is that we’ve got a meeting tomorrow afternoon. We’ll be presenting our research then.”

“You’re going to do amazing,” Bill said confidently. “They’ll have no choice but to grant you the funds once they hear your points.”

Hermione smiled. “Thank you. I really hope so. But enough about work. I was thinking, this weekend, it would be nice if we -”

A sudden loud hacking noise echoed through the house, interrupting Hermione. 

“What is that?” Hermione asked. 

Bill paused for a second, listening. 

“It sounds like -”

“It sounds like Crooks,” Hermione finished. “Like when he’s sick.”

Bill said nothing for a moment, the both of them silent, listening. At first, he didn’t hear anything, just the silence extending between them as their ears perked up but then the sound came again, louder this time, and the two of them looked at one another in concern.

Hermione stood from the table, her utensils clattering against the plate. “Crooks?”

Bill stood, following her out the room. They followed the noise, moving through the dining area, into the sitting room, until finally they spotted Crooks. He was sitting by the bookcase, his whole body heaving.

“Crooks!” Hermione exclaimed worriedly as she crouched onto the floor. “Oh! What is it, Crooksie?”

Crooks let out a loud cough, his body heaving with the effort of spewing out whatever it was that he was trying to expel from his system. He coughed again, then again, until finally, he spat out some gunk.

“Mew,” Crooks flopped onto the floor.

“Is it a hairball?” Bill asked.

“No.” Hermione said, peering down at Crooks. “Oh, look. He’s still shaking. I need my wand. It’s in the bedroom, can you -”

“I got it,” Bill offered.

He shuffled quickly out of the room, walking back in one second later, Hermione’s wand clutched in hand and crouched down next to her to peer at Crooks. 

“Thank you,” she murmured softly, pointing her wand at Crooks and waving it around once, then twice, a soft light at the tip.

“Hmm,” she said. “Nothing’s wrong. It looks like he ate something that disagreed with his stomach. Like he got into the treats. But how…”

“I gave him some treats earlier,” Bill started. “Just a few. No more than five -”

“Oh, Bill!” Hermione exclaimed, looking up at him. “He can’t have more than three treats at a time. They make him sick.”

Bill glanced over at Crooks, who was still heaving on the floor. For a second, he wondered if it was another one of Crooks’ ploys to make Bill look bad. The Crooks vs Bill count was already much too high for Bill’s liking, and he refused to lose another point in this battle they’d started. But another glance at the cat and Bill decided it couldn't be a ploy, not when the poor guy seemed genuinely unwell. 

“He asked for them!” Bill explained. “He kept rubbing my legs with his face and meowing. I thought we were bonding.”

Bill frowned. They had been bonding, hadn’t they? It had been sweet, actually. He couldn’t believe the sudden turn of events. 

Hermione shook her head. “He does that to me, too. You just have to ignore it.”

“Mew,” Crooks let out a soft noise, his body still shaking. 

“Fuck. I didn’t know. Is he going to be okay?”

Hermione nodded. “It’s not the first time this has happened, unfortunately.”

“I’m sorry,” Bill said genuinely. “I just thought it would get him to like me.”

She stood up and turned to him, her arms around his neck. “You’re so silly. It’s just Crooks’s. You don’t need to try to convince him to like you. He already likes you.”

Bill tried not to scowl. 

“I’m not jealous,” he said, jealous. “And he does not like me. Plus, I just miss you, I miss touching you, I miss being able to come near you without him hissing.”

“I promise he won't always be like this.”

“It’s been almost two weeks,” Bill replied skeptically. “How much longer?”

Hermione laughed. “I’m sure Crooks will let us know soon.”

“Was he like this before?” Bill wondered. 

“Before?”

“With your other partners.”

Hermione bit her lip, and Bill watched her think, taking in the way her brows furrowed and how the line that appeared on her forehead when she was deep in thought materialized. 

“No,” she said after a moment. “Not really.”

“Great,” Bill groaned. “So he hates me. Me, specifically." 

“Well,” Hermione offered. “He also really didn’t like Ron, if that helps.”

Bill growled. No, that absolutely did not help. 

“I never experienced this before we lived together,” Bill thought out loud. “In fact, he seemed to like me. Or at least tolerate me well enough. What do you think changed?”

“Perhaps it’s like having a second child,” Hermione said. “The first child feels jealous and throws a tantrum because they're not the focus of attention anymore.”

“I’m not trying to compete for attention,” Bill frowned. “I just want to be able to touch you without worrying about his teeth sinking into my jugular while I'm sleeping.”

Hermione let out a laugh, and Bill frowned. “I’m serious.”

“Just give him some time. I promise, you’ll be best friends in no time.”

Bill eyed her warily. Best friends? Bill would accept tolerable acquaintances.  Still, with Crooks still in the corner, laying down after seemingly coughing up an artery, even though Hermione assured him he would be alright, Bill couldn’t bring himself to actually be annoyed.

“Alright,” he muttered. “I’ll be more patient. But only because I feel bad for him.”

He glanced over at the creature he referred to as the villain in his life. “Are you sure he’s going to be okay?”

“Yeah,” Hermione nodded. “I checked all of his vitals. He’s a strong boy. He’ll be fine. Just don't let him trick you into giving him treats again.” 

“Oh, I won't,” Bill said determinedly. 

“Even if he starts purring,” Hermione added.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” she bit her lip.“He can be a little … sweet when he wants something. He brings out all of the charm; rubbing on your legs, meowing sweetly, looking up at you with that loving gaze. I’ve fallen victim to it plenty of times myself.”

“I can’t believe it!” Bill pouted. “I really thought he was being genuine.”

“He was,” Hermione offered. “But for the sake of treats.”

Bill sighed, and Hermione patted him on the shoulder. “It happens to the best of us. Now, come on. Let’s finish dinner.”

She walked back into the dining room, leaving Bill lingering. 

“Should I bring him -” he started.

“No!” Hermione shouted. “He’ll hate that. Just let him be for now. He’ll come to us when he’s ready.”

Bill cast one final look at Crooks on the floor. He now appeared to be grooming himself, licking his paw and lifting it to his head. 

“No more treats for you,” Bill announced declaratively.

“Mreow,” Crooks replied, his paw in the air.

“Don’t you try to sweet talk me,” Bill said, crossing his arms over his chest. “It won’t work this time.”

“Meow, mreow.”

“No,” Bill almost laughed, impressed with the cat’s negotiation. “I’m not even going to give you three. 

“Mreowww.” 

Bill shook his head, walking away. “Cats.”

“MEROW!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he tossed over his shoulder. “You’re part kneazle, I know.”

“Reow.”

The next day, after Hermione had already left for St. Mungo’s, Bill sat down in the living room, taking a sip of his morning tea. He sighed, running his hands over his face, through his beard, as he looked over the documents he’d scattered onto the table earlier. He was working from home today, as he did on Fridays, to complete the week’s paperwork. It hadn’t been a difficult feat to negotiate an administrative day into his contract, not with how long he’d been working at Gringotts and especially not considering how many of the Goblins owed him favors, one of which he’d quickly cashed in in the form of remote days. 

Bill loved his job, he truly did, but nobody really loved doing paperwork. It was necessary, but it was his least favorite part. He’d brought home all of the paperwork with him the night before, hoping to get a head start, but had forgotten all about it as soon as he’d stepped into the shower. 

Now, there was no avoiding it. Except, he was already distracted, glancing over at where Crooks was sitting. His tail swished happily as he looked out the window, and his eyes seemed to be following something moving outside. Every so often, when he saw a bird or another creature, he let out a small chirp, his paw on the window pane. It was kind of sweet, actually. Bill had never noticed it before; the way the small creature seemed to have a routine. He started his mornings by the window, soaking in the sun, before he inevitably moved into a different space in the room. His next destination, Bill already knew, was going to be the spot on the floor between the couch and the bookshelf, where the light streamed in. 

Bill took another sip of his tea, focusing on the papers in front of him. He’d start with filling out the paperwork for the items he’d discovered in the Nott vault, then he’d document the artefacts that Draco Malfoy had handed over after discovering them in Malfoy Manor. 

He began to work, moving through the tedious task. He’d been sitting there for no more than an hour before he heard Crooks move onto the floor, following the moving sun. He flopped down onto the floor, his belly up, and stretched out his paws, letting out a big yawn. In the sunlight, his fur gleamed, bright orange, as coppery as Bill’s own locks.

For a second, Bill felt envious, wanting to do the same thing. Sitting on the floor, feeling the sun on his face, sounded like it would release every bit of tension within him.

“Eh,” he murmured out loud. “What have I got to lose?”

He set aside the quill and parchment in his hand, pushing back his chair as he stood, and made his way towards Crooks, crouching down on the floor.

“Mreow,” Crooks said, warily. 

“Oh, come on,” Bill replied, not unkindly. “You make it seem like it’s the greatest thing in the world. I just wanted to try it.”

With that, he lay on the floor, making sure not to disrupt Crooks, but trying to a spot where the sun would still be on his face. He tucked his arms behind his head and closed his eyes, soaking it in. 

He couldn’t deny how nice it felt, laying there on the floor with the sun on his face. He’d never get used to it, the feeling of the sun soaking his skin, not even after all these years living in Shell Cottage, the beach right behind him. It felt like the first time every time. There was something wondrous about it, something indescribable, like releasing a breath after being afraid.

“Alright,” Bill murmured. “You’re onto something. This feels nice.”

“Yeow.”

“Hmm,” Bill commented nonchalantly, making a note to go for a walk on the beach and lay on the sand later. 

“Merow.”

“Yeah,” Bill sighed. “I know I should be working.”

“Reow.”

“What do you mean, leave you alone? This is my house and I’m not even touching you.”

“Merw, meow, mew.”

“Oh,” Bill scoffed, his eyes still closed. “I’ll get up in a few minutes. Just let me enjoy this.”

“Reow.”

“You like me more than him, right?” Bill asked, after a moment. The question had been bothering him since the previous night and he needed to know, even if it was childish. “Ronald?”

“Yeowr.”

“What do you mean, no comment?”

Crooks simply purred in response. 

“Hmmp,” Bill huffed. “Well, it doesn’t matter. Hermione likes me more than him.”

“Meow, mewow, meow, merow, mreow.” 

“I didn’t steal my brother's girl,” Bill said defensively. “They had been broken up for years!” 

“Meow.”

“Is that why you don’t like me? Because you think I stole Hermione from Ron?”

“Meow meow meow,” 

“Of course you don’t care,” Bill sighed. “Don’t know why I bothered.”

Crooks didn’t bother replying, and Bill cranked open an eye, peering at him.

“Wait,” he said suddenly. “You’re not an animagus, are you?”

“Mreow, grrr, mrrp,” Crooks commented, clearly unamused.

“I’m not an idiot!” Bill cried, in outrage. 

Crooks let out a long unentertained yawn.

“I’m not boring either,” Bill scowled. “I was just trying to have a conversation. Get to know you.”

“Yeoww,”

“But fine,” Bill grumbled. “I’ll stop trying. We can just sit here in silence.”

“Meow.”

“This feels nice,” Bill said absentmindedly. “Good for the back.”

“Merow!”

“Don’t you call me old man.” Bill glared. “I’m plenty young.”

“Meowww.”

Bill rolled his eyes, and they launched into silence, just two gingers of various sorts basking in the sun. It was so comfortable that Bill laid there longer than he’d planned, sitting up and groaning as he remembered all the work he still needed to get done. 

“Alright,” Bill uttered. “Can’t avoid work much longer.”

Crooks released an unentertained response as Bill shuffled back to the table, picking up the quill and parchment once more. 

He sighed, really wanting to avoid work, and glanced one final time at Crooks, still basking in the sun. He’d never felt more envious of the cat before, not even when Hermione gave him more attention than he needed.

The afternoon passed in a haze with Bill redirecting his attention to the work that still needed to be completed. He managed to record a few of the artefacts before he decided to take a break, standing up and stretching, his bones cracking. 

“Urgh,” he groaned. “Maybe I am old.”

He shuffled from the table, toward the sofa, and took a seat there. Much better. He looked over to where Crooks had been laying just a few hours ago, preparing to see the cat fast asleep. Except, Crooks was jumping onto the sofa, plopping down next to Bill. Well, “next to” was too strong a sentiment to express what was really happening. Near Bill felt more accurate. He was still on the opposite side of the couch. But it felt big. Important, somehow. Like an outstretched hand, the beginning of a blooming friendship.

“Meorw!”

“Yeah,” Bill smirked. “Sure. This doesn’t mean anything.”

 Maybe, he thought to himself, this meant he could finally have sex with Hermione without being interrupted.

“Yeow! Yerow! Grrr.”

Bill rolled his eyes. “You don’t know what I’m thinking.”

“Meow, meorow, meow! Meow!”

“Alright, alright,” Bill huffed. “Calm your paws.”

Just like that, the afternoon passed.

Bill didn’t even realize it was the end of the day until Hermione walked in through the Floo and flopped down on the couch, her robes still on. 

“Hi,” she murmured, positioning herself so that her head was over his lap.

“What’s wrong?” Bill asked immediately, sliding his hand into her hair. He knew her enough by now to know that something was indeed wrong. 

“Urgh,” she groaned. “My day was awful.”

“Tell me about it.”

She launched into an explanation about her presentation, about all of the ridiculous questions she had to answer about her research – questions that she had answered multiple times in the past, only to be told they would need to discuss it further.

“It’s such a waste of my time. Just tell me yes or no!” She frowned. “I’m starting to think I should look for external funds.”

“It’s not a bad idea,” Bill murmured. “Especially if they’re going to keep leading you on.”

“Yeah,” she mumbled. “I’ll look into it tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll help,” he offered. 

“Thank you,” she smiled, moaning softly as he massaged her scalp. “How was your day?”

“Eh. It was rather boring,” Bill started. “I finished some of the paperwork I brought home last night.” 

“Oh!” Hermione said suddenly, peering up at him.“I just remembered. I called Crook’s vet earlier.”

Bill glanced over at Crooks, who was now perched on the side of the loveseat across from them. He seemed to be asleep, judging from his shut eyes and the rise and fall of his fluff covered chest. 

“Did something else happen?”

“No, no,” Hermione replied, shaking her head. “I just figured it might be time for another checkup, so I called to ask for an appointment. The earliest one they have is tomorrow morning, though.”

“Okay,” Bill shrugged easily. “I’ll take him.”

“I can’t take him because I have that volunteer thing. You know, the one -”

“I know, darling,” Bill interrupted easily. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.”

Hermione gaped at him, shifting up slowly. “He hates going to the vet. He’s going to give you a hard time.”

“No, he won’t,” Bill said, probably a bit too confidently. 

“Are you sure?” Hermione said, biting her lip. “It’s a Muggle doctor.”

“Yes. I’m sure,” he reached over and nipped her lower lip. “Trust me, I have plenty of experience with Muggles.”

Hermione smiled. “Alright. If you’re sure.”

“I am,” he said, gathering her into his arms. “Don’t you worry about a thing. You just focus on being brilliant.”

He pressed a soft kiss to Hermione’s lips, his hand sliding into the nape of her neck.

“Mrroew!” Crooks suddenly pounced, landing between them.

Bill pulled away and rolled his eyes. Of course, he was awake now. 

“I’m not even doing anything,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender before turning back to Hermione. 

Hermione laughed, wrapping her arms around Bill’s neck and sprinkling a few kisses on his nose. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I promise, I’ll make it up to you.”

“Yeah?” Bill rumbled, his hands slipping around her waist to hold her closer. “How?”

“Mreow! Mreow! Mreow! Mreow! Mreow! Mreowwwwww!”

Hermione giggled. “I don’t think Crooks wants me to answer that question.”

“No,” Bill replied, amused. “I don’t think so either.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said. “Really. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Bill said, kissing her forehead. “I’ll do anything for you. You know that.”

She snuggled closer, seemingly reaching for another kiss, and Crooks let out another long yowl. 

“Oh, Crooksie,” she whispered. “Don’t be like that.”

Bill resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at the cat. He didn’t want to undo the progress they’d made earlier that afternoon. It wasn’t worth the risk.

“We bonded today,” Bill said, turning to Hermione.

Hermione turned to him curiously, and he launched into the explanation. No sooner than he’d finished did she let out a long yawn.

“So sweet,” she mumbled. “My two boys, getting along.”

“I’m not a boy,” Bill grumbled.

“Mhmm,” she replied. “My big strong man.”

“Damn straight.”

Hermione laughed, pulling away from him. “Let’s make dinner.”

Bill watched her exit the room, pulling off her robes, a warm feeling spreading in his chest. He couldn’t deny that Crooks interrupting their kissing didn’t make the moment any less appealing.

The next morning, Bill found himself at the Vet’s office, a meowing Crooks tucked inside of a small carrier Hermione had handed him that morning before leaving. If Bill had known this was all it took to confine Crooks, he would have done it weeks ago. Except, not actually. The poor guy was meowing up a storm, and Bill felt terrible and restless, eager to get back home. 

“I know,” he said, glancing down at the carrier on his lap which Crooks was attempting to escape from, scratching and hissing.“I know you don’t want to be here. We’re next, and then we’ll be out of here, alright?”

A woman who had come in after him, dressed in a chunky sweater that reminded him of the many his own mum had knit him over the years, took a seat next to Bill and coo’d first over Crooks, then Bill, commenting how sweet it was that he was trying to reassure his baby. Bill nodded politely and listened to her chat about her three cats, one of whom was clutched in her hands, burrowing his or her head into her jacket.

“This is Jasper,” she explained. “He hates being here though I can’t say I blame him. The wait always ends up being hours long.”

She launched into a complaint, monologuing about how frustrating spending an entire day at the Vet was, how it was unfair to their babies who were unwell. Bill didn’t disagree. It felt like he’d been there for decades, like a spell had been cast and he was trapped in a time loop where everyone else and their pet went in to see the doctor, leaving Crooks and Bill behind.

Bill nodded along in agreement, offering grunts of platitude, when the receptionist popped her head into the room and called out Crook’s name. 

“Please follow me,” she said. “Dr. Clifford Barkley is ready to see you.”

Quickly, Bill stood, nodding goodbye to the woman next to him, and followed the receptionist into a room in the back.

“Here you are,” she said before shuffling back toward the reception area.

Inside the small room, an elderly Muggle doctor, wearing glasses and a long coat, likely the age of Bill’s own father, was standing by the examination table, reviewing some notes held in his hand.

“You’re not Hermione,” he said once he noticed Bill. 

Bill shook his head. “She couldn’t make it today.”

“Hmm,” Dr. Barkley replied, scrutinizing Bill with the same intensity that Crooks sometimes glared at him with. Bill wasn’t sure if he should be intimated or not. “And you are?”

“William, sir,” Bill replied, easily. “Bill Weasley.”

“And your relation to Hermione and Crookshanks?”

“I’m Hermione’s partner,” he replied easily. Which made him Crooks …. Dad? He didn’t dare say that part out loud, even with Crooks inside the carrier. He valued his life too much.

“Hmm,” Dr. Barkley repeated, a tad bit judgmentally before motioning to Bill to remove Crooks from his carrier. “Alright. Well, let’s take a look.”

Bill quickly unzipped the carrier, and Crooks stuck his head out. As soon as he realized he was free, Crooks tried to leap across the room, hissing and screeching.  

“He’s been hissing since we got here,” Bill explained, trying to catch him. 

The doctor redirected his scrutinizing gaze away from Bill to Crooks, grabbing ahold of him before he could get any further. Holding him by the scruff, he placed him on the examination table and began his examination. First, he checked Crook’s vitals. Then he took a look at Crook’s ears and listened to his chest, before finally gently prying his mouth open to inspect his teeth. 

“Overall, he seems healthy,” Dr. Barkley said once he was finished. “A little stressed, but that is not unusual, especially for an older cat. Plus, coming to the Vet can be a stressful event for many animals, even Crooks who has been coming here for years.”

Bill nodded politely. “So, that’s it? He’s alright?”

Though Crooks wasn’t hissing anymore, he was still growling (kind of adorably, Bill couldn’t deny, like a cat trying to roar at a tiger) and didn’t seem pleased to be there. Bill figured the sooner they got out of there, the better it was – for both of their sakes. 

Dr. Barkley shook his head. “Just one last thing. It’s almost time for his annual shots. Since you’re here, I will go ahead and give them to him now. Save Hermione another visit. I need you to hold him for a moment.”

Bill glanced at Crooks who shot him a look that Bill could only translate to don’t you dare touch me. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered under his breath. “It’ll be over in a few seconds.”

“Just hold onto his scruff,” Dr. Barkley said. “I’ll handle the rest.”

Bill did as he was directed to, holding onto Crooks scruff, whispering soft praises to him as the doctor worked.

“You’re being so brave,” Bill said, knowing the chances of him getting his eyes scratched out was only increasing by the second. Still, he meant it. Crooks was being brave, and it deserved to be acknowledged. 

“Mreow!” 

It was weaker than any of the other animated mreow’s Bill had ever heard and he felt awful for the small creature.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized again. “You’re doing amazing!”

Dr. Barkley turned toward the medical cabinets and rummaged around, searching for something. Bill watched curiously, holding onto Crooks. When he turned back around, there was a small syringe and vial in his hand. 

“Alright,” Dr. Barkley said, moving toward Crooks. “It’ll just be a few…”

“Grwrr!” Crooks thrashed in Bill’s hold. 

“Seconds,” he finished, stepping away and depositing the syringe. “Wonderful.”

When he turned back around, he was holding a small treat in his hand. He fed it to Crooks before Bill could make a comment, patting him on the head and whispering soft praises. 

“He’s a good boy,” he remarked. 

Eh, Bill thought. 

When Bill didn’t respond in acquiescence, the doctor raised a brow and continued. “At Crookshanks age, cats can start retreating or become overly affectionate and attached to their caregivers. Have you noticed that happening?”

“Yes!” Bill practically shouted. 

Dr. Barkley nodded understandingly. “A lot of the time, families will bring home another cat. Someone to keep them company, encourage playfulness, that sort of thing. 

Bill nodded, the wheels in his head turning. He would have to talk to Hermione about it when he returned home. It could be the solution to their problem. He glanced at Crooks who glared at him in response.   

“Anyway, we’re all finished here. I’ll update his records and have the receptionist print them out for you.”

Bill relaxed, loosening his hold on Crooks, who let out another long mreow, about to leap across the room again before Bill gathered him into his arms.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he scolded. “We’re going home. No need to run away now.”

“Meow!” 

“No,” Bill said, quickly zipping up the carrier and exiting the room, tossing a goodbye nod to the doctor. “You’re not getting any treats when we get home.” 

“Meow! Mreow!”

“I’m sorry,” Bill said genuinely. “I know this was hard for you, but the treats are part of the reason Hermione made this appointment in the first place. Plus, the doctor already gave you one.” 

“Meoww,” Crooks replied sadly.

Bill gathered the documents from the receptionist and made his payment, before exiting the office. 

Once they were back at Shell Cottage, Bill released Crooks from his carrier.

“Yeow,” Crooks said, looking up.

“No,” Bill said sternly. “I meant it. No treats.”

“Meow!”

Bill shook his head. “You won’t convince me so stop trying.”

“Mreow!” Crooks sneered before turning away, toward the window sill. Bill watched for a moment, as he took a seat at his favorite spot, and plopped down. The sun was still shining at that specific spot, and it took only a few minutes before Crooks started purring, the sound echoing through the room. The sun, it seemed, was all it took to please the cat. 

Hermione would be home in a few moments and Bill didn’t have anything better to do. He moved through the room, pulling a chair against the window, and took a seat next to Crooks.

“Meow?!”

“You did good today,” he said conversationally. Afternoons spent talking to an elderly cat who hated his guts. That was his life now. 

Crooks didn’t reply, his eyes tracking the movements outside.

“Hermione will be glad to hear you’re alright,” he continued. 

“Yreow!” Crooks supplied. 

“Yeah,” Bill responded. “She’ll be home soon.”

“Meow, mreow, mew.”

“She really does do a lot,” Bill agreed. “But she’s bloody fucking brilliant, isn’t she?”

Crooks purred in agreement.

“Hmm,” Bill said. “This is nice. Just like that day, laying on the floor.”

Crooks didn’t bother responding, and Bill took it as a cue to stay silent. The two of them sat together in silence for a bit, peering out the window, and only when he heard a shuffling sound behind him did Bill turn.

“You’re home!” 

“Hi,” she said, softly, her eyes moving from Crooks back to Bill back to Crooks. “What are you two doing?”

“Watching the birds.”

“And talking about me?”

Bill grinned. “Only how brilliant you are. Isn’t that right, Crooks?”

“Meow!”

Hermione raised her brow, and Bill shrugged. 

“I’m trying to participate in Crook’s hobbies with him. Watching the birds. Laying in the sun. I read that it’s important.”

“You read?”

“I needed a break in between all the boring paperwork I had to complete.”

Hermione smiled, a soft huff escaping her like she found him amusing, and shook her head. “How was the vet?”

“Oh,” Bill said, glancing at Crooks, who seemed occupied by a flock of birds in the sky. “It was good. Got his annual shots, but otherwise, he’s healthy. Healthy but old. The report is on the table.”

Hermione nodded. “I’ll take a look at it later.”

“I didn’t realize you were home,” Bill said.

“Got back earlier than I expected,” Hermione explained. “The event had more volunteers than we planned.”

“That’s great,” Bill said as he stood and moved the chair back to where it belonged.

“It’s nice to have an afternoon at home,” Hermione said as she moved onto the sofa. “But I missed you.”

Bill followed her, taking a seat next to her. 

“Hi,” he said. I didn’t even greet you properly.”

“You didn’t, but you didn’t know I was home,” she smiled. “And Crooks is stealing you away from me now, it seems.”

“Nonsense,” he murmured, shifting close enough to press his lips against hers. “Come here.”

He placed his mouth on her lips, and she relaxed against him, melting into the kiss. Bill got swept into it, as he always did. There was something about kissing Hermione, something that made him simultaneously lose his mind and appreciate everything about life. She tasted sweet, like she always did, and smelled even sweeter. He could tell, based on how she smelled, where she was in her cycle, a side effect of his preternatural senses. He knew, based on her cycle, that she would be ovulating during the full moon. The full moon, which was fast approaching, and they’d done very little to prepare for. He was blaming it on Crooks. He was entirely and solely to blame. 

“Fuck,” he grumbled, pressing her into the sofa and covering her with his body. “You taste so sweet. You smell so sweet. Want to drown in you.”

Hermione wriggled beneath him, trying to get comfortable, and his hand gripped her hips to steady her. 

“Don’t move,” he grunted. 

Hermione looked at him in confusion, and Bill responded with his own look of unamusement. 

“I need a minute. It’s been weeks since I’ve had my dick anywhere near you. There is nothing stopping me from releasing in my trousers like a prepubescent boy.”

Hermione moaned softly, raising her hips teasingly. 

“I don’t know,” she grinned. “That sounds really hot.”

“Merlin,” he groaned, tightening his hold on her. “You don’t know how bad I want you.”  

“So have me,” she pleaded, her hands reaching up to caress his face. The slight touch made Bill shudder, his skin breaking out into goosebumps. His cock was hard as a rock, already, and he wanted nothing more than to fit into her, feel her squeeze and explode around his cock.

“Take me,” Hermione said. “Please.”

Bill let out a tortured sound, bending down to place a kiss against her. He knew the moment would last only a few seconds more before the annoying pest in their house interrupted them. He pulled away from Hermione, who released a noise of protest, trying to pull him back down, and peeked at Crooks, who was still sitting at the windowsill, his tail swishing. This time though, instead of watching the birds, he was looking straight at Bill and Hermione, his eyes drawn into a look that said don’t you fucking dare. The same look Bill had seen at the vet but more intense this time. 

“Fuck’s sake,” he groaned. 

“What is it?” Hermione said, craning her head to follow Bill’s eyes. 

“He’s glaring at us. At me,” Bill said, shuffling back.

“No!” Hermione grabbed his shirt, turning back toward him. “Don’t you dare.”

“We can’t.” 

It pained him to do so, but they, he, couldn’t continue. Not when Bill was sure Crooks was seconds away from jumping onto them and ruining the moment. Plus, he didn’t want to undo all of the progress the two of them had made. Even if he denied it, Crooks was starting to tolerate him a little more. What if one hand up Hermione’s blouse undid all of that work? Then, Bill would never be able to put his hands up her blouse! Or elsewhere.

“Just ignore him,” Hermione said. “Keep kissing me.”

Bill raised his brow at Hermione. “Ignore him?”

“Mhmm,” Hermione said, pulling Bill’s head down to her lips. 

Bill meant to protest. He really did. He meant to say something like you never ignore Crooks, but it was too late, he was already getting lost in the kiss. It was his default. He couldn’t help it. She was perfect. Soft and sweet and oh, fuck, his dick was only growing harder and thicker as she opened her mouth and wriggled and wrapped her legs around him. 

Bill pulled away, not wanting to crush her, needing a moment to calm down, prevent himself from getting too worked up.

“No,” Hermione protested. “Crush me. I want to feel you.”

Fuck. She said it all pouty and moany, in that voice he bet she knew was his kryptonite, and he couldn’t resist. He had never been good about saying no to her anyway.

“Fuck it,” he grumbled, before settling his full body weight on her and grinding his cock against her lax body. He kissed her again, swallowing all of her whimpers and moans, defiling their innocent couch when Hermione let out another loud moan.

“Touch me,” she begged.

He didn’t need another word. His hands reached for the waistband of the trousers she was wearing, a brow arched in question as he pulled back. 

“Yes,” she sighed, spreading her legs wide to accommodate his hand. “I’m ready.”

Bill moved faster than lightning, trying to shove down Hermione’s bottoms and his at the same time. It was a desperate, urgent, hasty move, but he didn’t care. All he could think about was sinking deep into her warm, wet cunt. It had been so long. Too long. If he couldn’t have her tonight, he would literally die.

“Fuck,” he grunted, freeing himself from the confines of his bottoms. “I need you.”

Hermione nodded urgently, and Bill took it as an incentive to grip his thick cock and slide it up and down her slit. She was plenty wet, wet enough to take him, but Bill hesitated for a moment, wanting to build up the moment, though he felt seconds away from prematurely ejaculating.

“I can’t wait,” he growled, pressing himself against her opening. He didn’t wait for a response. He could see it on her face, the way her mouth was parted slightly, the way she was flushed, the way she was already shaking with need. He pushed himself inside of her and nearly sobbed from the sensation.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned. “Fuck. You feel so fucking tight.”

Hermione let out another whimper, tightening her legs around him as Bill pounded into her. It was uncoordinated, a bit clumsy, definitely unrhythmic and relentless, but he didn’t care. It all felt so good. He couldn’t do anything but feel. He couldn’t even look at her. Looking at her would make him erupt, explode. Instead, he buried his face into the crook of her neck, his body covering hers again as he rutted, cursing and cursing and cursing. 

Beneath him, Hermione moaned and shook, her arms around his shoulder, clutching him closer. 

“Bill,” she cried. 

“Yes,” he growled. “Just like that. Say my name just like that.”

His hands slipped between their bodies, finding her center, her clit. He knew what she needed. Just a little touch, and she would shatter. He knew it. But he didn’t press his thumb against the sweet, sensitive bud immediately. Not yet. He wanted to savor it, this moment, the two of them connected after weeks of not touching each other. 

“Fucking perfect,” he grunted into her ear. 

“Please,” she cried. “I’m so close.”

He loved hearing her beg. It did something to him. Scratched that animalistic nature that he kept restrained. 

“Please, please, please,” Hermione whimpered. 

It was his undoing. He thrust into her with an intensity he’d never felt before, never experienced in their relationship. It was like it had been years since he’d had her, not mere days. 

“Come for me,” he demanded, his fingers at her clit, rubbing and teasing and flicking the way she loved. “Want to feel you squeeze my cock.”

She shattered, and Bill did too, immediately afterward, his thrusts growing harder and rougher, their harsh breaths intermingling with the sound of skin slapping against skin. She squeezed him like a vice, like she was milking him for every bit of his seed, like it was her salvation and he, her savior.

He groaned and growled and cursed, spilling into her, his cock dragging against her walls as he filled her and filled her and filled her. It felt like it was everywhere, like it would never stop, never end, and he could feel it, the wetness inside of her. Still, even after, he didn’t pull back. Didn’t immediately push away. He wanted to stay there, connected, the aftermath of their passion still lingering between them. 

“That was -”  she gasped.

Bill could only nod. He was at a loss for words. There were simply no words to describe what they had just shared. 

Eventually, after catching his breath, when Hermione pushed at his chest, Bill shifted away, watching as his cock exited her, the way her cunt stretched around him, dripping with his semen. If it was the last thing he ever saw, he’d consider himself a lucky bastard.

He flopped against the back of the sofa, watching as Hermione sat up, her legs still trembling.

“Come here,” he murmured, reaching for her. She let out a small shriek as he adjusted her until she was sat on his lap, the bottom half of her body bare, the top still covered by her blouse. His cock had softened a bit, not enough, and it twitched at the skin-to-skin contact. 

Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck, and Bill reached in for a kiss. A gentler one, this time, slow and hazy like a rainy afternoon spent indoors, leisurely like they had all of the time in the world. When they pulled away, there was a grin on his face.

“That was fun.”

Hermione grinned. “Let’s do it again.”

Bill groaned. “Don’t tease me. Crooks is going -”

Lost in the moment,  he’d forgotten about the small beast entirely. As soon as he realized that Crooks had just been in the room with them, Bill froze, his entire body, every single muscle, tensing. He looked over at the window where Crooks was no longer laying before turning back toward Hermione, who now wore a chagrined look on her face. 

“I uhm,” she said nervously shifting on his lap. “Cast a little spell.”

Bill blinked. Then he blinked again. The words did not compute. She had cast a spell? A spell? 

“You cast a spell?” He said out loud.

“Just a small one!” Hermione exclaimed. “So Crooks wouldn’t interrupt us.”

Bill had twenty thoughts at once. The first of which ‘why hadn’t he thought of that?’ The second of which ‘why had he been trying so hard to get on the cat’s good side when they could have been using magic the entire time?’ And the third of which ‘was Crooks actually going to murder him in his sleep?’

“A protective orb,” Hermione continued. “It didn’t hurt him. He just couldn’t come near us.”

Bill gaped at his girlfriend, trying to think of how to respond. 

“A protective orb?” He repeated. 

She nodded shyly. 

Bill didn’t know whether to be impressed or terrified. 

Impressed. He was definitely impressed. And peeved, just the tiniest bit. He couldn't believe he could have been buried balls deep inside of her cunt this entire time.

“And you waited until now to use it!?” He groaned, throwing back his head. “You torturous woman.”

Hermione bit her lip sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I really did think he would come around in a few days. But he still hasn’t, and I couldn't wait anymore.”

Bill shook his head. “He’s going to hate me even more now.”

They both turned and looked toward the spot Crooks had been laying.

“Where is he?” Bill whispered. 

“I’m not sure,” Hermione frowned. “Maybe he went into the bedroom.”

Bill sighed. “Let’s go find him and apologize.”

Hermione looked at him with the slightest bit of amusement before she nodded and stood up, quickly putting on her bottoms. Bill followed her movements, tugging on his own clothes. 

The two of them tip-toed down the hall, toward the bedroom. It was quiet, just the sounds of their breath leading them. It felt akin to escaping from the scene of a crime than walking through their own home. 

“Crooksie?” Hermione called, pulling open the door to the room. 

It didn’t take long for them to spot him. He was seated at the foot of the bed, on Hermione’s side, his paws tucked beneath him. He didn’t appear any different than when he’d been sitting, basking in the sun, which immediately put Bill on high alert. 

Having no reaction? That was almost as terrifying as being horrendously clawed at. 

“Hey, buddy,” Hermione said, stepping closer to the bed, reaching for Crooks. She had just put her arm out, about to pet him on the back, when he jumped, letting out a loud shriek.

“YEORW!!!!!”

Hermione froze, quickly pulling her hand back, and turned toward Bill for help. 

Bill wanted to help and be supportive, he really did, but he knew if he held out his hand and tried to soothe the cat, he would lose an entire limb. Still, for Hermione’s sake, he tried. He didn’t make it very far though. In fact, his hand had moved barely a few inches before Crooks let out another loud shriek, arching his back, jumping away from them.

“Oh, no,” Hermione lamented, a frown on her face. “He’s really upset.”

Bill frowned. Crooks had never reacted this badly before. Still, they couldn't go on like this. Enough was enough. It was time for another strict conversation. 

“Maybe he just needs some time,” he said after a moment. “We can come back and check on him later.”

Hermione hesitated, her eyes fixed on Crooks, who continued yeowling and hissing, before she nodded reluctantly. She looked back at Crooks as she exited the room and let out a sigh before the door shut gently behind her. Bill could hear her footsteps fading and waited just a moment. 

“Alright,” he said, turning back to Crooks when he could no longer hear Hermione. “Here’s the deal. We’re sorry, okay? That wasn’t cool, I get it. But you have to give us some grace. Intimacy -”

“YEORW!!!”

“Intimacy,” Bill stressed. “Is an important part of a relationship, and Hermione and I haven’t been intimate for days because of you. Plus, the full moon is soon, and I’ll have to either fight or fuck my way through it. And I’d really prefer the latter. So you need to give us some space.”

It was the wrong thing to say but Bill didn’t care. The more Crooks got used to Bill and Hermione’s sex life, very active sex life, the sooner this would be over. 

“MRROW!!!!!!!!! MREORW!!!”

“No,” Bill glared, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t act all innocent.”

Crooks turned his head away in a hmmph gesture. 

“Don’t you dare look away! You listen to me!”

“RREOW!!”

“We won’t do it again, okay?”

“MRE-ow?”

Bill nodded solemnly. “I mean it.”

“Mreow…”

“If -” Bill continued.

“MROEWWW!!!”

“If you leave us alone,” Bill finished. “Let us have privacy.”

“YEOWR MRWOW MREOW MEOR MEOWR MROEW!”

“Don’t use that kind of language!”

“MEROW!!!”

Bill sighed, shaking his head. He couldn’t believe he was arguing with a cat. Again.

“Fine,” he said, holding up his hands. “It’s your decision. I have absolutely no qualms about using the spell again.”

“HISSSSS,”

“None whatsoever,” Bill shrugged. “It’s really up to you.”

Then, before Crooks could hiss again, he turned and exited the room, walking into the kitchen where Hermione was leaning against the counter, a glass of water in her hands. As he approached, taking her into his arms, she brought it up to her mouth for a sip. 

Bill rested his chin on her head as she sighed and wrapped her arms around him.

“He’ll come around,” he murmured soothingly.

“I’ve never seen him that upset before,” she said. “I really messed up.”

Bill held her close, reassuring her that it would all be fine by tomorrow morning, she’d see. 

Hermione groaned. “He’s never been like this. I don’t know what to do. It doesn’t seem to be getting any better. I really thought it would be okay, that he wouldn’t even notice but…. Ugh.”

“Shhh,” Bill soothed. “It’s going to be alright.”

“Maybe…”

She paused and Bill pulled back to see that she was biting her lip.

“Maybe?” He prompted.

She looked up at him, her cheeks flushed, her curls dancing in every direction, and sighed.

“Maybe if he had company,” she continued. “Someone to keep him occupied, it wouldn’t be this hard.”

Bill froze. That’s what the vet had said earlier. He’d meant to discuss it with her when he arrived home but had gotten sidetracked.

“Company as in another cat?” He questioned, wanting to make sure they meant the same thing. “Another kneazle?” 

Hermione nodded slowly. “Maybe a kitten. Someone young.” 

“That’s what Dr. Barkley said earlier.”

“Really?”

 Bill nodded excitedly. “He said that adult cats get needier as they age and require more company. Having another cat around can help with companionship.”

Hermione didn’t reply for a second. She just squeezed Bill tighter and he gently rubbed her back in response.

“It doesn’t seem like a bad idea,” Bill said. 

Hermione sighed again and Bill pressed a kiss against her head. 

“Alright,” Hermione said decisively. “Let’s do it.”

Bill tried not to sound too eager but he failed. The end was in sight! 

“We can go to a shelter together and ask about adoption.”

“Yes,” Hermione nodded. “That sounds like a good plan. Next week?”

Personally, Bill would have opted for tomorrow but next week was soon. Not soon enough but soon. Hopefully, by then, Crooks would have calmed down too. 

“Perfect,” he murmured, kissing her head again. “Let’s just hope we don’t get eaten in our sleep tonight.”

Hermione laughed, the sound bright and bubbly, and Bill grinned. Even in the most stressful of moments, her laugh made everything better. 

The next two days passed in a blur. During the day, work kept them preoccupied. Bill continued his projects and Hermione battled St. Mungo’s for funding. At night, the two of them sat together, had dinner, chatted about their days, kept a wary eye on Crooks who was still glowering and growling around Shell Cottage though no longer hissing or shrieking, and researched external funds for Hermione. 

Two days passed and Bill didn’t touch Hermione. He chalked it up to the two of them being busy and less Crooks being intrusive. Still, he couldn’t let go of what they’d discussed over the weekend. 

They’d come up with a plan to visit a Muggle shelter later in the week, Hermione’s choice. She had volunteered at the shelter a few years ago and was familiar with the adoption process. She’d explained that if they decided they wanted to bring someone home, she would know exactly what to do. Bill had nodded, agreeing easily, and they’d continued about their day. 

It was a simple and easy plan. Go to shelter, adopt a cat, exit shelter. Except… Bill didn’t want to wait another day or so. He was a bit antsy, a little restless. He’d finished his work for the day and had a little more than an hour to go. He could have easily started his next project, the next task on his list of priorities. But he didn’t feel very motivated to do that. It was a bit reckless, what he actually wanted to do, but it didn’t matter. He was already pulling on his robes and standing from his desk. 

“Be back tomorrow,” he called out to the Goblins as he exited Gringott’s. 

The Goblins merely grunted in acknowledgement. 

It didn’t take long to get to where he needed to go. Just a few footsteps, actually. 

The Magical Menagerie was an interesting place. It housed all sorts of creatures – practically every small creature one could imagine. There were kneazles, owls, toads, snails, ravens, black rats. Truly, there was something there for everyone. Including Bill.

The bell chimed above the door as he walked in and his eyes fell to the counter behind which nobody was standing.

“Be right there,” a familiar voice chirped from somewhere in the store. 

Bill didn’t fret. He just began to move through the store, looking for what he’d come for. It didn’t take long for him to stumble upon a small section of cats. There was a tower of items; cages, carriers, even food stacked up in the shape of a triangle, and in the middle of the display, there were two cats held inside of an enclosure; a Siamese cat who appeared to be asleep named Felix and another Siamese cat named Empress, who was hissing up a storm and clawing for release. There was a bright sign next to them that read “Flight risk. Do not release.”

They seemed young, not exactly kittens but not exactly adults. They were cute, even Empress who was trying to reach for Bill through the barrier. It was adorable in a way Bill had never thought anything else to be. Bill moved closer, peering at them closely, when he heard a shuffle behind him. He turned around to see a young witch, dressed in an assortment of bright colors, approaching. 

“Luna!” Bill exclaimed, surprised. Last he’d heard from Hermione, Luna had been in Australia, completing her Magizoology studies. He hadn’t realized she’d returned. He’d have to send an owl to Charlie. Charlie, who’d had somewhat of a crush on the blonde, would surely want to know. Plus, he wasn’t going to refuse an opportunity to tease one of his brothers.

“Oh, hello Bill!” Luna smiled. “How are you?”

They quickly went through the niceties, catching up on how they were, what they’d been doing for the past few months. 

“When did you return?” Bill asked curiously.

“Only yesterday,” she smiled. “Today is my first day working here! It’s been a delightful day so far. I’ve already …”

She trailed off, launching into a monologue about all of the animals she’d taken care of and all of the witches and wizards that had come in and left the store with a companion.

“It’s so exciting!” She exclaimed, concluding her sentence. “But anyway! What brings you in?”

Bill scratched his beard. “I wanted to see if you had any cats or kneazles.”

“Oh?” Luna asked curiously.

Bill nodded. “Hermione and I are hoping to bring home a friend for Crooks.”

Luna nodded knowingly. “Ah, yes. The classic old age crisis. No need to explain. I understand.”

She turned toward the cats Bill had been looking at. “Well, as you can see, we’ve got these guys. They’ve been here for a couple of weeks. A few people have come in to look at them but no purchases.”

“How come?” 

“Well, Empress can be a bit … lively. As you can tell,” she nodded toward the cat who meowed excitedly, chasing her tail. 

Case in point.

Bill nodded. Lively. That was exactly what Crooks needed, someone to keep him occupied, distracted.

“That’s perfect,” he said. 

“And Felix,” Luna continued, a hint of laughter in her voice. “Well, he’s a mischievous little thing. I’ve only been here one day, and he’s already tried to escape three times! Just a few moments ago, he was raising a fuss. He must have decided it was too much activity for one small being and fell asleep. Now, Empress seems to be on duty for the ‘trying to escape shift.’”

Bill laughed just as Empress let out a small meow. 

They were both perfect. Exactly what he’d been hoping for. He couldn’t believe how simple it was. There was an inkling, a small one, in the back of his mind that he should wait for Hermione, wait for later this week when they were meant to go to the Muggle shelter. But he was already here, and they’d already agreed to bring home a cat. Did it really matter which one it was?

“And,” Luna continued. “They’re a bonded pair.”

“Bonded?”

She nodded. “Littermates. They’ll be emotionally distraught if they’re separated. That’s another reason they’ve been here for longer than expected. People have been hesitant to purchase two cats.”

Bill frowned. That changed things. He went through the calculations in his head quickly. Would two cats be too much for Crooks? Would Hermione be upset if he brought home not just one but two cats without consulting her? Were they ready for a three cat household? There was really only one way to find out.

Besides, it wasn’t like he could separate the pair. That was just plain evil. There was clearly only one solution.

“I’ll purchase them both,” he said easily. 

“Oh!” Luna exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “How wonderful!”

“Meow!” Empress let out another tiny sound, still chasing her tail in the enclosure and bumping into Felix, who let out a big yawn and stretched out his paws. 

“Meoww?”

“Meow! Meow!” Empress responded enthusiastically. 

“They’re chatty too,” Luna explained. “They love talking to each other.”

Bill grinned. “They’re perfect.”

Twenty minutes later, Bill walked out of Magical Menagarie, two chatty cats in hand, along with an assortment of toys, treats, food, and scratching posts. He made his way toward The Leaky Cauldron, stepping through the Floo to Shell Cottage. 

When he arrived home, he could hear distant noises in the bedroom. He furrowed his brows. It didn’t sound like Crooks. It sounded like Hermione was speaking with someone. But that couldn’t be. She wasn’t due home for another few hours.

“Hermione?” He called, walking down the hallway.

“Meow?” Empress – or was it Felix – said from inside the small carrier Bill was holding.

“I know, I know,” Bill said reassuringly. “You’ll be out and able to roam around soon.”

“Bill?” came Hermione’s voice from the back. “Is that you?”

Bill pushed open the door to the bedroom. “It’s me. I have a surprise. What are you -”

“Surprise!” Hermione said. 

He froze at the doorway, blinking rapidly, trying to make sure he wasn’t seeing wrong. There, clutched in his girlfriend’s arms, was a small mangy cat.

“What-” he started.

“What-” Hermione said at the same time, gaping at the carriers in his hand.

“I -” Bill began to explain.

“I -” Hermione said.

They both stared at each other for a moment before Bill motioned for Hermione to continue.

“You go first.”

“No,” she said. “You go first.”

Bill closed the door behind him — Crooks was somewhere in the house, he was sure, sulking and scheming, and Bill didn’t want him to come into the room and freak out.

He walked further into the room and took a seat next to Hermione, setting down the carriers as the cats meowed.  

“I went to Magical Menagerie,” he started. “Just to look.”

Hermione looked at the cats again before peering into Bill’s eyes.

“And purchase?” Her voice was light, filled with amusement, and Bill knew instantly that she wasn’t upset. Slightly curious, possibly wary, but definitely not upset.

“I didn’t plan it,” he said. “I promise. I was just curious. I was planning to wait until we went to the shelter together, but I finished work early and figured I’d walk over to the shop.”

He explained the rest of the visit. He told Hermione about how he’d run into Luna, how she had just returned from Australia and taken up the post as Caretaker of the shop.

“They were so sweet. I figured, since we decided we would get a cat, I could surprise you. But then Luna said they’re bonded!” Bill exclaimed. “And I couldn’t leave one behind. That wouldn’t have been right.”

The cats, both of them, let out a synchronous meow, agreeing with Bill’s statement.

In Hermione’s arms, the cat, whose name Bill still didn’t know, let out a small yawn, gazing curiously at the room.

“Merlin,” Hermione said. 

“Are you upset?” Bill said.

“No,” Hermione shook her head. “Of course not! I mean I - Well,”

She looked down at her arms, motioning toward the small creature burrowing into her chest. “Looks like we both had the same idea.”

Bill nodded, waiting for her to continue.

“I finished work early too,” she started, quickly going through her explanation. It was similar to Bill’s; she had gone to the Muggle shelter to look, only look, but then she’d seen the small kitten and couldn’t resist, especially since they had agreed to adopt one. 

“Meow,” one of the cats - it was hard to tell which one, considering, well, there were now three new cats in the room with them - said.

Bill took a seat next to Hermione on the bed, laying down the carriers next to him.

“Well,” he said. “Crooks is either going to love us or hate us.”

Hermione frowned the way she did when she was contemplating something and turned toward Bill. 

“What should we do?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we can’t send them back. That’s just wrong.”

“We don’t have to,” Bill said, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. “It’ll be alright. There’s plenty of space around here for four cats. Plus, it’ll be practice for when we have kids.”

He grinned, but Hermione let out a small huff, the corners of her mouth curling upward in a small smile.

“We’ll have to introduce them to Crooks - and each other – really slowly,” Hermione said.

“Well, at least these guys are already bonded,” he said, nodding toward the meowling cats, now growing restless in the carrier. “And this little guy seems pretty calm.”

“Yeah,” Hermione said. “He is.”

“We’ll be alright,” Bill promised.

It was both true and false. They were alright. Having three young cats was obviously a lot of work, more work than Bill had realized, and for a few days, he did lament over how much time they spent taking care of the kitten’s needs instead of each other’s needs. It almost felt like a cosmic joke, the way he and Hermione barely had time with one another before one of the cats pounced on them, demanding their attention. Still, it was fun having them around.

For the first few days, they kept all of the cats separated, slowly introducing the new cats to each other. For the most part, they seemed to all get along. They were playful and energetic and kept each other preoccupied when Bill and Hermione were busy. Crooks, though, had yet to be introduced to any of them. But he knew something was up. Bill could sense it, the way he walked around the house sniffing and throwing accusatory around glances like Bill committed a crime and he was about to phone up an Auror for his arrest. 

Bill was wary, nervous, but still hopeful. It would work. It had to. It would just take some time.

Today, they’d slowly introduce the cats to him. Thankfully, Hermione had a plan. They would start one by one. First with Ghost, the cat Hermione had brought home. Then Empress. Then Felix.

“Ready?” Hermione asked as though they were preparing for battle – which, in this case, didn’t feel too far off considering what they were about to do.

Bill nodded. “Let’s do this.”

Hermione nodded solemnly, her battle face on. “Alright.”

Together, they walked into the room Crooks was sitting in. Clutched in Hermione’s hands was Ghost. Ghost had a fairly easy temperament. He was relatively calm, and he loved to snuggle. They figured Crooks would warm up to him faster than the other cats who were more rambunctious. 

Hermione had spent the week laying out some of the kitten’s toys, trying to get Crooks familiar with their scents. She said, hopefully, when they met, he would be somewhat familiar with them, and that would make it simpler.

“Crooks?” Hermione called gently. “We have someone we want you to meet,”

From where he was laying, Crooks craned his head, warily eyeing Bill and Hermione before his gaze landed on the small bundle of fur in Hermione’s arms.

“Mreow?” He said curiously, sitting up fully.

“We brought you a friend,” Hermione said. “Do you want to meet him?”

Bill watched the entire interaction, amazed that Crooks was not hissing or snarling or throwing a fit like he’d anticipated. Instead, the cat appeared merely curious, wandering over slowly to Hermione who crouched down, Ghost still clutched in her hands. 

Bill considered helping, wanting to be helpful, but it seemed like Hermione had a pretty good handle on the situation. So instead, he stood behind Hermione, watching the interaction unfold, ready in case something went awry.

“This is Ghost,” Hermione continued. “He’ll be one of your new friends.”

“Mreowwww?” Crooks let out, gazing up at Bill for confirmation.

Bill nodded. “Yes. There are more friends.”

“Meow?!”

“Now?” Bill raised his eyebrow. “You want to meet them now?”

Crooks bobbed his head in somewhat of a nod, and Hermione reached out one of her hands to pet him. 

“Oh, you’re so sweet, Crooksie,” Hermione coo’d as Crooks began to sniff Ghost, bumping him with his nose.

Bill didn’t know whether or not it was a trap. What if they looked away for two seconds and Crooks hurt the kitten, trying to stake his claim?

“Reorw!” Crooks cried, glaring at Bill like he knew what he was thinking.

Bill held up his hands in defense. “Sorry. Sorry.”

Ghost let out a small meow and tried to lick Crooks, who took a step back, peering inquisitively at the small creature before he stepped forward and licked Ghost on the head instead.

“Awh!” Hermione smiled. “They’re getting along.”

“The doctor really was right,” Bill mused. “Maybe he was just lonely and needed company.”

“Seems like it,” Hermione said. “But we can’t get too ahead of ourselves. There’s still Felix and Empress.”

“Let’s introduce them to Crooks now,” Bill suggested. “He seems curious.”

“I don’t know,” Hermione hesitated. “It’s a lot at once.”

“Meow, meow, mroeww,” Crooks replied. 

“I think he’s ready,” Bill assured her.

“Are you sure, Crooksie?” Hermione asked.

“Meow! Meow! Yeow!” 

“Okay,” Hermione stood. “I’ll bring them. You stay here.”

She quickly exited the room, leaving Bill with a purring Ghost and an intrigued Crooks. He crouched down and held out his hand toward the cats. 

“Look at you guys,” he murmured. “Being all sweet. See. I knew you had a sweet spot.” 

“Mreow!” Crooks protested as Bill reached for him.

“There it is,” Bill huffed. “Alright. I won’t touch you. You can play with Ghost.”

Hermione appeared back in the room in a heartbeat, Felix and Empress in her arms. Again, just as she had before, she approached Crooks gently.

“Okay, buddy,” she said, motioning toward the cats and introducing them. “This is Felix. And this is Empress. They’re also going to be your friends.”

Crooks let out another curious mreow, his nose in the air as he sniffed. Still, he didn’t hiss or snarl. He just gazed curiously between the cats, then at Ghost, then back at the cats, and then finally, at Bill and Hermione.

Bill couldn’t believe it. Crooks not freaking out? It was almost too good to be true. There was no way it would be this simple. Bill scrutinized the cats, searching for signs of fear or stress. His eyes had just landed on Crooks when he snarled.

“Yeoewr!” Crooks let out a loud hiss as Felix jumped on him.

“Oh!” Hermione exclaimed as the cats began to hiss and claw at one another. “Okay. We should separate those two.”

Bill nodded, already on it. He picked up Felix with one hand and stood up, clutching him against his chest.

“Yeow!” Felix protested, clawing at Bill.

The cat was small but so feisty that Bill laughed, reminded of Ginny.

Felix aside, it seemed that the cats were indeed getting along. Next to him, Hermione hummed.

“I can’t believe it,” she said. “Look at them.”

They were still sniffing each other, bumping their noses against one another, but at least there was no blood on the battlefield.

“We’ll just have to warm him up to this guy,” Bill said, nodding toward Felix. “Then we’ll be one happy family.”

Hermione nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

A few days later, just before bedtime, as Bill lay on the sofa in the sitting room, lost in his book, Hermione plopped down next to him. He didn’t think anything of it, just continued reading. It was something they did; body doubling, catching up on their reading, spending time alone but together. So he didn’t glance up, he just extended out his arm and tucked her against his side, feeling her get comfortable around him, his eyes not straying from the page he’d been reading. It was just another night. Or it would have been, if not for Hermione, just a few moments into their encounter, burrowing her face into the crook of his neck and peppering small kisses on his skin. 

Bill shifted, glancing at her.

“What are you doing?”

“Kissing you,” she said. “Was it not obvious?”

He arched a brow and shut his book, redirecting his attention toward her as she began to bite down gently. 

“Hermione…” He growled, the cadence of his voice slipping into dangerous territory. “Don’t start things you have no intention of finishing.”

The cats, he was certain, were around somewhere, and would require their attention. It had taken some time, but they had started to get along and spend more and more time with one another. Even Felix and Crooks, though they occasionally hissed at one another, seemed to be getting along better. Crooks, it seemed, had been lacking companionship, and though he still spent most of his days sitting on the windowsill, basking in the sun, he also chased the kittens around the house, and no longer glared at Bill when he went near Hermione. Okay, he did still do that, but less so now than he had before. Progress was progress, and Bill was not going to ask questions.

“Mhm,” she said as she kissed his jaw. “Who said I have no intention of finishing? I am actually really, very interested in both of us finishing.”

He shoved aside his book, ready to pull her against him, when she pulled back, a grin on her face. She jumped up before he could react, flitting through the room.

“Catch me!”

A chase?

What game was she playing? 

Had he not been tortured enough? 

Even confined within their home, his inner beast reacted immediately at the prospect of a chase. 

He stood faster than necessary, his book and plans to catch up on his reading already forgotten, and ran after Hermione. It wouldn’t take anything to catch her, to lock her arms behind her and hold her against him as he thrust into her from behind, but Bill slowed down his steps, giving her a few more seconds of advantage. She wasn’t too far away. He could have her in his hold in an instance. But it was more fun, this game she’d started.

She looked back at him and laughed, her hair dancing as she moved. Bill merely watched in amusement, counting down five seconds, before he leaped. 

“Come here!” He growled as he moved around the clutter of furniture in their home to grab her. He missed her wrist by a second, her shrieks of laughter filling the room as she dodged him and ran toward the large bay windows, her intention clear. 

The beach.

“Hermione,” he warned. Did she understand what she was getting into? If they moved outside of Shell Cottage, there was nothing, nothing, holding him back from claiming her, and with his beast provoked and wide awake, there was simply no way he would be gentle. He already felt ruthless, every fabric of his being screaming at him to catch, capture, claim.

She reached the large windows, her hand on the handle of the door that provided her exit, Bill still moving toward her, when a series of meows, yeowls, and small pitter patters filled the room. Bill had barely registered what it was when not one, not two, but all three kittens swarmed around his feet, standing on their paws, excitedly clawing at his pants and running in circles in between his legs. 

“Meow!”

“Meow! Meow!” 

It was too cute to ignore. 

Bill looked up at Hermione, who stood still by the window, her face softened. 

“Oh,” she smiled. “They think we’re playing with them.” 

By Bill’s feet, the cat appeared to be in the middle of a game, not really focusing on him and Hermione, but not entirely focused on each other. 

“Where’s Crooks?” He wondered. 

It was a miracle that the older cat hadn’t been the one to interrupt them.

“Reowww,” Crooks announced, walking into the room. 

Speak of the Devil, Bill thought, preparing for Crooks to throw his usual tantrum; to glare at him and hiss and howl and prevent him from moving toward Hermione. But Crooks did none of that. Bill watched as the kittens realized they were not alone and scampered away from him, skidding toward Crooks, who plopped onto the floor, letting the younger cats play around him. 

Bill stared for a moment, wondering if it was a test, wondering if Crooks would snarl if he grabbed Hermione by the waist and tossed her onto the sofa to ravage her.  

He took a tentative step forward, watching for a reaction. When nothing happened, he took another step forward. Then another and another. The cats seemingly preoccupied, Bill locked eyes with Hermione again, his legs carrying him through the room. He saw the instant the realization that the cats wouldn’t be stopping them reached her. She let out a small cry and escaped through the door, running toward the beach. 

Bill growled, following, his cock thick and heavy with anticipation, prepared to rut into her. 

Bill Weasley was a sexual creature. He needed sex as much as he needed his next breath of air. And he needed sex with Hermione more than he needed to breathe. That’s why, when he woke up on Saturday morning the week after they’d first introduced the cats to one another and saw Hermione’s pink tongue lavishing his cock, he didn’t even think. He just reacted. He groaned out loud, his hands sinking into her hair as he thrust his hips into her mouth, trying to shove his dick inside. 

“Fuck,” he grunted, waves of pleasure rushing through his body,

“Good morning,” she smirked as she took the tip of his head into her mouth, swirling her tongue around him.

Fuck. What a fine morning it was. 

It has been just a few days since their last sexual encounter, a few days since he’d fucked her into the mattress. A few days were not that many, not enough for Bill to be behaving this animalistic, and yet, he wanted, nay, needed, to feel her take him into the back of his throat. He growled as she teased him, pushing her scalp on him, prompting her to take him deeper. When she did, he bucked his hips, almost losing control. It felt so fucking good, he couldn’t think straight. 

“Gods, look at you,” he swore. “Such a good fucking girl for me.”

Hermione let out a loud moan, drool on her chin, her mouth stretched around his thick cock, and looked up at him. It was too much, the sight of her, and Bill felt his veins throb, ache. He pulled her head back, and Hermione gasped for breath. He’d missed her mouth, and as much as he wanted to release into it, watch as she swallowed his seed, he needed something more. He needed to be buried balls deep inside of her. 

“On my cock,” he ordered. “Now.”

She moved quickly, shoving off her pajamas, and straddled him, her legs on either side of his. She didn’t wait another second before she gripped his thick cock, bringing it to her core. Bill let out a harsh grunt as she started to slide him up and down her slit teasingly, her head thrown back. Just from that small touch, he could feel just how fucking soaked she was already.

“You’re fucking dripping,” he growled. “Did you like sucking my cock?”

Hermione nodded eagerly and began to press him against her opening.

“Look at me when you take me,” Bill grunted as she began to slowly sink down, moaning loudly.

Bill growled, moving his hands to the back of his head, watching as Hermione used him for her pleasure.

“There you go,” he praised. “Merlin. Desperate little thing, aren’t you?”

“Bill,” she gasped as she rode him fervently. “Oh, fuck!”

He could have touched her, pressed his fingers against her clit, grabbed her by the hips and pounded into her from the bottom, but he did none of that. He didn’t need to. Watching Hermione lose her mind as she took what she needed, whimpering and moaning, taking him deeper and deeper, was enough. More than enough.

Bill grunted, his cock aching, as she fucked herself on his cock harder, faster, the sound of their skin slapping against each other echoing through the room. Her hands came to his chest, and she leaned forward, dragging her cunt over his cock. Bill hissed at the sensation, about to lose his mind, when Hermione cried out.

“Please,” she begged. “Touch my clit.”

“Hmm,” he responded, watching her bounce on him. “Not yet.”

His hands slipped from behind his head and captured hers over his chest, keeping them locked. He wanted to watch her lose her mind, wait until she was sobbing, on the edge of shattering,  and begging for him to give her what she so desperately needed. Then, and only then, would he give in.

“Bill,” she cried. 

He’d never get used to it, the sound of his name on her tongue, the way she begged and pleaded when she was close to orgasm. It was addictive, and he needed his fix.

“Louder,” he ordered. “Scream my name.”

She screamed his name, begging again and again, and Bill finally gave in. His fingers slid toward her pussy, pressing against the sensitive bundle of nerves. He flicked it once, then twice, before pinching it between his thumb and forefinger. It was instantaneous, the reaction. Hermione screamed, shattering around him, his name a sweet chant on her tongue. He felt her squeeze his cock and thrust up his hips instinctively, needing to be so deep inside of her that when he released, all of his seed went exactly where it was meant to be. 

She rode him slower as she came down from her orgasm, her breath evening out, her body trembling less, and Bill arched a brow. 

“Is that all?”

“I -” she moaned as he thrust his hips upward. 

“Oh,” Bill coo’d mockingly. “Is your pussy feeling sensitive after one orgasm? Is that what you needed? To use my cock.”

He didn’t wait for her to respond. He merely gripped her waist and shifted them so that she was on the mattress, Bill hovering over her. She let out a loud yelp, her hands clutching his arms as he ruthlessly pounded into her, all of the pent up energy, all of the moments he hadn’t been able to touch her over the past few days rising to the surface.

“Yes! Yes,” Hermione screamed, her nails sinking into his skin, sure to leave marks. “Feels...so…good!”

Bill grunted, ravenous, pistoning his cock harder and harder into her, desperate to feel her squeeze his cock again.

“Come for me,” he ordered. “Now.”

His thumb pressed against her sensitive nub for a second, his hand coming down in a harsh smack against her wet pussy.

“Bill!” Hermione screamed, her back arching. 

Bill repeated the action again and again, until Hermione’s pussy was as pink as it was puffy, and dragged his cock against her inner walls, pushing up against that special spot. Hermione detonated, screaming as she fell into the abyss. Her body shook with the intensity of her orgasm, and Bill wasn’t able to hold himself back. He thrust inside her again, once, twice, in a rhythmic beat before he followed her over the edge, grunting loudly as he flooded her insides.

“Fuck,” he cursed, gyrating his hips gently when he was sure she’d bled him dry. “Fuck.”

Beneath him, Hermione nodded in understanding, her face glistening with sweat, her hair sticking to her cheeks. Something in Bill’s chest tightened at the sight of her. He couldn’t believe she was his. That he got to touch her, kiss her, keep her. It was maddening, and he didn’t know what he’d done to deserve it. 

He pulled out of her, watching his seed leak out, and cursed again, pulling up her legs.

“Keep them up,” he growled. She was on the contraceptive potion so it didn’t really matter, but the primal part of Bill’s brain was too far gone to care. 

Hermione moaned but obeyed, holding her legs against her chest, and Bill squeezed his eyes at the sight, his cock twitching again. 

“Shit,” he groaned, pulling down her legs and taking her into his arms. “I missed you.”

Hermione wrapped her arms around him and burrowed her head into his chest. “Me too.”

They laid there for a moment, basking in the glow of their post-orgasmic bliss, when Bill stiffened.

“Where are the cats?”

“They’re in the other room,” she answered. “Playing with each other.”

“Even Crooks?”

She nodded. “Especially Crooks.”

Bill grinned, turning toward her. “So we can do that again? Without any interruptions?”

“Yes,” Hermione laughed as Bill interrupted her with a kiss. “Yes, we can.”

Everything was exactly how it was meant to be at Shell Cottage. And with the full moon fast approaching, it was about damn time their home had some order, some sort of distraction, because Bill and Hermione, especially Hermione, needed to prepare for the Claiming.