Fic: Unanticipated (Kingsley/Hermione)
Title: Unanticipated
Characters/Pairings: Hermione/Kingsley
Rating: Adult
Summary: Kingsley and Hermione have a meeting that turns into something neither of them anticipated
Word Count: 2610
Beta: None so please excuse an errors.
For _snitchbitch because she listened to me ramble about this pairing and I promised to write her some to show her why I love their potential!
“I apologize for the interruption, Hermione. I had to take care of a few important matters before Percy leaves for the day.”
Hermione looks up and watches Kingsley shut his office door. “I understand, Minister. It isn’t a problem.” She smiles as she leans forward to pick up the parchment that she had been referring to before Percy called him away. “This is a comfortable chair, after all.”
“The accompanying sofa is very comfortable, too.” He returns her smile as he takes his seat behind the desk. “I’ve tested it many evenings since this responsibility was placed on me.”
“I did notice that it appeared to be charmed to accommodate a taller man,” she says, arching a brow. “Should I casually mention to Molly that you’re not even going home to sleep?”
“Only if you’re prepared for me to return the favor and inform her that you’ve been spending many nights sleeping at your desk.” He does an eyebrow arch that puts her attempt to shame and smiles serenely. “We do need to discuss that habit at some point, by the way. I would be negligent as Minister and a failure as a friend if I allow such behavior to continue indefinitely, Hermione.”
“Whenever you start leaving work at a normal time, you can stop by my office to collect me. I think that would be a fair arrangement, don’t you?” She leans back in her chair and sighs. “On a more serious note, you do look close to exhaustion, Kingsley. You haven’t even shaved in weeks, and I know for a fact that you’ve been keeping extra robes here so you aren’t going home at all. You’ll be no good to us if you work yourself to death.”
Kingsley reaches up to rub the scruff on his chin before he drags his fingers over his head. “I can’t recall the last time I actually had hair,” he admits. “It just hasn’t seemed a necessary priority considering everything else. I can’t really explain that the reason I’m late for a meeting about the upcoming trials or can’t attend another memorial event or miss a radio program is because I’m indulging in a shave.”
“I don’t think anyone would think badly of you for needing time to yourself. It doesn’t look bad, though, if you’re concerned about such things.” He’s a striking man whether he has hair or not, and she knows there are many fans of his recent scruffier look according to a poll in the Daily Prophet.
“Doesn’t look bad?” He chuckles. “Thank you for the compliment, young lady. I don’t happen to be concerned with such things, fortunately. As an auror, it was easier to shave and keep up with grooming. As the minister, I’ve been too busy to even bother.”
Hermione rolls her eyes. “You know you’re dashingly handsome, Kingsley. The state of your grooming doesn’t affect that very much. Now, shall we continue our discussion? I want to review the data I’ve gathered regarding the state of Azkaban and the treatment of prisoners.”
“Of course, Miss Granger. No more about my dashing good looks. Let’s discuss your proposals for prison reform,” he says, reaching over to pick up a pair of spectacles that he slides on before studying the folder of research she’d given him prior to their meeting.
It’s only been five months since the Battle of Hogwarts, and they’ve been working on the most important issues since. Kingsley appointed Harry to take over the aurors, which shocked many considering he was only seventeen at the time, and he drafted Hermione into helping work on a variety of projects. The prison reform is something she actually suggested after taking a tour of Azkaban, and she is excited to hear his thoughts on her final proposals regarding ways to improve the conditions there.
Their meeting goes on for hours. He asks questions that she can occasionally answer immediately and that she sometimes has to stop and really think about before replying. He goads her at times, playing devil’s advocate so well that she has moments where she doubts her own research. When she’s in the middle of describing her observations of their prison versus one in the Muggle world she visited, she realizes that he’s being too quiet. She looks at him and notices that his eyes are half-closed and his lips are curved into a small smile.
“You aren’t even listening to me, are you?” she asks with a frown. “We would have finished this discussion over an hour ago if you hadn’t kept asking questions.”
“I’m listening, Hermione.” Kingsley straightens up and removes his spectacles, rubbing at his eyes before putting them on his desk. “I apologize. I got distracted for a moment.”
“It’s fine. Do you want to wrap this up?” She rubs the back of her neck and stretches in the chair.
“Perhaps a break,” he suggests. “Are you hungry? I have some leftover Chinese food that can easily be heated up.”
Her stomach growls in response, and she smiles sheepishly. “Food sounds lovely. Are you sure there’s enough?”
“There’s enough.” Kingsley gets up and stretches his arms above his head before he glances at her. “I’m going to take off my robe, if you don’t mind, and get more comfortable. You’re welcome to take yours off, too.”
“That would be wonderful.” She stands and shrugs off her robe, leaving her in a blouse and pencil skirt that makes her feel grown up and professional and not like a nineteen year old playing dressing up. Kingsley is wearing tailored Muggle suit trousers and a fitted shirt in pale lavender, and she allows herself a moment to admire the way it fits his broad shoulders and displays his arse when he moves.
“I ordered this for lunch but wasn’t able to find time to eat,” he explains, turning around and popping that eyebrow when she looks away quickly so he won’t catch her ogling his body. “Alright there?”
“Yes, of course. It smells good.” She expects him to put the food on his desk, but he carries it over to the table by the sofa instead. “Do I smell chicken and mushrooms?”
“You do.” He smiles and nods at the open cartons. “Take whatever you like.”
Hermione walks over to the sofa and sits down, looking from the food to him. “I thought you hated mushrooms,” she says, reaching for that carton because it’s one of her favorites. “You refused to share a pizza with me at Grimmauld Place several years ago because I wanted mushrooms.”
“Did I?” Kingsley gives her a skeptical look. “I highly doubt you remember that, Hermione.”
“I was offended and thought you were being a prat being you were a bad arse auror who resented having children fighting alongside you,” she admits. “Since you obviously do like mushrooms, I might have been right.”
“I don’t think you’ve ever been a child.” Kingsley takes a bite out of an eggroll, and she watches him lick his fingers when he’s done. When he catches her staring, she feels heat spreading across her cheeks, but she tilts her chin and doesn’t look away this time. “You were wrong, little girl. I refused to share a pizza because I loathe mushrooms. They taste of dirt and grit to me.”
“Why would you order chicken with mushrooms then?” She finally looks away, feeling flushed and confused without even knowing why.
“You’re the clever one. You tell me.” Kingsley’s voice is low and deep, yet there’s a tone that is almost challenging.
“You made a mistake when ordering,” she suggests, clearing her throat when he lets out a husky laugh in response. “Or not.”
“You can do better than that, Hermione.”
“You ordered it for me.” She raises her head and looks at him. “You knew we were meeting at the end of the day, so you ordered food so we could eat during our meeting. You wanted to spend time with me that wasn’t about reports and proposals.”
“Well done. Fifty points to Gryffindor.” He nods at her before taking a bite of beef and peppers. When she opens her mouth, he holds up a chop stick and shakes his head once. “You don’t want to continue asking questions, little girl. I doubt you’ll like the answers.”
“You don’t know that,” she says, feeling heat in the pit of her belly at the way he’s looking at her. Her skin feels tight and warm, and she isn’t overly familiar with this, so she doesn’t know what to do about it. With Ron, there had been tingles and it had been sweet, in a way, but she isn’t feeling very sweet right now. This feels grown up and wicked, and she likes it even if it scares her a little.
“Eat your dinner, little girl, and then run along home. Take the weekend off.” Kingsley leans back and focuses on his carton of food. She’s been dismissed, and it irritates her that he’s just deciding for her.
“Stop calling me a little girl. No matter how often you say it, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m a woman.”
“You’re eighteen, and a few months ago, you believed yourself in love with Ron Weasley. You’re too young to know what you want.” Kingsley frowns at her. “We shouldn’t even be discussing this. It’s inappropriate, and I am too bloody exhausted to deal with this on top of everything else right now.”
“I’m nineteen, Kingsley. My birthday was a couple of weeks ago. I’m a consenting adult, and I don’t think it’s inappropriate to have a discussion about something that is obviously happening between us.” Hermione nibbles on her bottom lip. “I know you’re overwhelmed with everything going on, so it’s probably wrong of me to push this, but I don’t want to think back in a few months or years and wonder what might have happened if we’d talked about this.”
“And I’m in my thirties, which is too old to even be thinking about the way your eyes sparkle when you’re passionate about something or the way your legs look in that skirt.” Kingsley glares at her. “Not to mention those full breasts and pouty lips. Don’t even get me started on your mind, your loyalty, your bravery…”
“You aren’t old.” She isn’t sure his exact age, but she knows he was at Hogwarts the same time as Bill, at least for a couple of years, so he can’t be ancient in the way he makes it sound. “You’re just giving me excuses. Your age isn’t a valid reason to ignore this chemistry.”
“You want valid reasons? What about the fact that I’m the Minister of Magic, and you are an employee at the Ministry? Or that I’m more than a decade older than you. Merlin, you aren’t even out of your teens yet. Your only relationship lasted a few weeks and just ended recently. All we’re feeling is attraction based on working so closely together, and it’s not logical to pursue something that is likely to make things more difficult for us.” Kingsley actually uses his fingers to count off his points, and she can definitely see the Ravenclaw making an appearance.
“I’m not suggesting that we run off and elope, Kingsley.” She reaches over and puts her hand on his to stop the counting. “I’m attracted to you because you’re an intelligent, strong, compassionate, handsome man who always makes me feel safe. It has nothing to do with working closely these past few months. That’s given me an opportunity to get to know you better, yes, but it’s not the only reason I feel this way. Sure, the timing is unfortunate, but I don’t see why we can’t pursue it, even if we keep it to ourselves until we’re ready to go public. It might not be logical, but that doesn’t mean we can’t do something for ourselves. I want you, Kingsley, and I see nothing wrong with that.”
Kingsley arches a brow and strokes his fingers against her hand. “I already planned to approve your proposals. I read through the file when you dropped it off yesterday. Your points were valid and the supporting documentation was superb, as expected. I didn’t cancel the meeting because I wanted to spend time with you, as you correctly guessed earlier. I got distracted because it’s so easy to rile you up, and you’re beautiful when you’re making a point that you’re passionate about.” He lowers his gaze to her mouth. “Tell me; are you a virgin, Hermione?”
“No. Ron and I…we had sex a few times before we decided that things weren’t going to work out between us.” Hermione feels awkward discussing it, but she can’t claim she’s a woman instead of a child if she gets embarrassed talking bluntly about sex.
“Good.” The word is almost a growl, and she has no warning before he’s moving. She’s pinned back against the sofa with his mouth on hers and his hand on her thigh before she can catch her breath. Bloody hell. This is what had been missing with Ron. There hadn’t been any spark once they finally got together. She moans into the kiss and becomes an active participant, not wanting Kingsley to think she doesn’t want this. When he pushes the crotch of her knickers to the side, she tenses because it’s going so fast, but he keeps kissing her, and his fingers feel so good against her that she relaxes and presses down against him.
He’s hard against her thigh, rubbing against her as his fingers tease her. When the kissing stops, he moves his mouth down her neck, whispering things into her skin that she can’t quite hear. His mouth is wet against her blouse, her nipples hardening as he sucks at them through the material. “Kingsley.” His name is a breathless whine as he strokes her until she’s soaking wet and craving more.
“Not yet, little girl.” He moves lower, sliding his fingers out of her and licking them clean while staring into her eyes. It’s one of the most arousing things she’s ever seen. “Now to taste from the source.”
Her eyes widen when she realizes what he means, and this is definitely something that Ron never did. He pushes her skirt up to her waist and tugs her knickers down before he’s there, face buried between her legs, tongue licking at her in ways she never imagined could feel this good. Merlin. No wonder women like this. She’s always thought it sounded a little gross, but she’ll happily tell anyone who asks that she was wrong. “Bloody hell,” she murmurs, shifting her body on the sofa so she can rub against his face. It doesn’t take her long before she tenses and comes with a soft whimper. He keeps licking at her, though, using his fingers and his tongue in ways that make her toes curl and her pulse race. Only after she comes a second time does he finally stop.
“I can’t believe I came in my trousers like an inexperienced schoolboy,” he mutters, crawling back up her body and kissing her thoroughly. His face is wet, and she can taste herself on him, which is something she has to adjust to but she does because she’s sated and her body is loose and relaxed in a way she hasn’t felt for a long time. When they pull apart, he cups her cheek and stares down at her. “You have no idea what you’re getting into, little girl.”
She smiles at him and reaches up to touch his face. “I’m looking forward to finding out, old man.”
End
Characters/Pairings: Hermione/Kingsley
Rating: Adult
Summary: Kingsley and Hermione have a meeting that turns into something neither of them anticipated
Word Count: 2610
Beta: None so please excuse an errors.
For _snitchbitch because she listened to me ramble about this pairing and I promised to write her some to show her why I love their potential!
“I apologize for the interruption, Hermione. I had to take care of a few important matters before Percy leaves for the day.”
Hermione looks up and watches Kingsley shut his office door. “I understand, Minister. It isn’t a problem.” She smiles as she leans forward to pick up the parchment that she had been referring to before Percy called him away. “This is a comfortable chair, after all.”
“The accompanying sofa is very comfortable, too.” He returns her smile as he takes his seat behind the desk. “I’ve tested it many evenings since this responsibility was placed on me.”
“I did notice that it appeared to be charmed to accommodate a taller man,” she says, arching a brow. “Should I casually mention to Molly that you’re not even going home to sleep?”
“Only if you’re prepared for me to return the favor and inform her that you’ve been spending many nights sleeping at your desk.” He does an eyebrow arch that puts her attempt to shame and smiles serenely. “We do need to discuss that habit at some point, by the way. I would be negligent as Minister and a failure as a friend if I allow such behavior to continue indefinitely, Hermione.”
“Whenever you start leaving work at a normal time, you can stop by my office to collect me. I think that would be a fair arrangement, don’t you?” She leans back in her chair and sighs. “On a more serious note, you do look close to exhaustion, Kingsley. You haven’t even shaved in weeks, and I know for a fact that you’ve been keeping extra robes here so you aren’t going home at all. You’ll be no good to us if you work yourself to death.”
Kingsley reaches up to rub the scruff on his chin before he drags his fingers over his head. “I can’t recall the last time I actually had hair,” he admits. “It just hasn’t seemed a necessary priority considering everything else. I can’t really explain that the reason I’m late for a meeting about the upcoming trials or can’t attend another memorial event or miss a radio program is because I’m indulging in a shave.”
“I don’t think anyone would think badly of you for needing time to yourself. It doesn’t look bad, though, if you’re concerned about such things.” He’s a striking man whether he has hair or not, and she knows there are many fans of his recent scruffier look according to a poll in the Daily Prophet.
“Doesn’t look bad?” He chuckles. “Thank you for the compliment, young lady. I don’t happen to be concerned with such things, fortunately. As an auror, it was easier to shave and keep up with grooming. As the minister, I’ve been too busy to even bother.”
Hermione rolls her eyes. “You know you’re dashingly handsome, Kingsley. The state of your grooming doesn’t affect that very much. Now, shall we continue our discussion? I want to review the data I’ve gathered regarding the state of Azkaban and the treatment of prisoners.”
“Of course, Miss Granger. No more about my dashing good looks. Let’s discuss your proposals for prison reform,” he says, reaching over to pick up a pair of spectacles that he slides on before studying the folder of research she’d given him prior to their meeting.
It’s only been five months since the Battle of Hogwarts, and they’ve been working on the most important issues since. Kingsley appointed Harry to take over the aurors, which shocked many considering he was only seventeen at the time, and he drafted Hermione into helping work on a variety of projects. The prison reform is something she actually suggested after taking a tour of Azkaban, and she is excited to hear his thoughts on her final proposals regarding ways to improve the conditions there.
Their meeting goes on for hours. He asks questions that she can occasionally answer immediately and that she sometimes has to stop and really think about before replying. He goads her at times, playing devil’s advocate so well that she has moments where she doubts her own research. When she’s in the middle of describing her observations of their prison versus one in the Muggle world she visited, she realizes that he’s being too quiet. She looks at him and notices that his eyes are half-closed and his lips are curved into a small smile.
“You aren’t even listening to me, are you?” she asks with a frown. “We would have finished this discussion over an hour ago if you hadn’t kept asking questions.”
“I’m listening, Hermione.” Kingsley straightens up and removes his spectacles, rubbing at his eyes before putting them on his desk. “I apologize. I got distracted for a moment.”
“It’s fine. Do you want to wrap this up?” She rubs the back of her neck and stretches in the chair.
“Perhaps a break,” he suggests. “Are you hungry? I have some leftover Chinese food that can easily be heated up.”
Her stomach growls in response, and she smiles sheepishly. “Food sounds lovely. Are you sure there’s enough?”
“There’s enough.” Kingsley gets up and stretches his arms above his head before he glances at her. “I’m going to take off my robe, if you don’t mind, and get more comfortable. You’re welcome to take yours off, too.”
“That would be wonderful.” She stands and shrugs off her robe, leaving her in a blouse and pencil skirt that makes her feel grown up and professional and not like a nineteen year old playing dressing up. Kingsley is wearing tailored Muggle suit trousers and a fitted shirt in pale lavender, and she allows herself a moment to admire the way it fits his broad shoulders and displays his arse when he moves.
“I ordered this for lunch but wasn’t able to find time to eat,” he explains, turning around and popping that eyebrow when she looks away quickly so he won’t catch her ogling his body. “Alright there?”
“Yes, of course. It smells good.” She expects him to put the food on his desk, but he carries it over to the table by the sofa instead. “Do I smell chicken and mushrooms?”
“You do.” He smiles and nods at the open cartons. “Take whatever you like.”
Hermione walks over to the sofa and sits down, looking from the food to him. “I thought you hated mushrooms,” she says, reaching for that carton because it’s one of her favorites. “You refused to share a pizza with me at Grimmauld Place several years ago because I wanted mushrooms.”
“Did I?” Kingsley gives her a skeptical look. “I highly doubt you remember that, Hermione.”
“I was offended and thought you were being a prat being you were a bad arse auror who resented having children fighting alongside you,” she admits. “Since you obviously do like mushrooms, I might have been right.”
“I don’t think you’ve ever been a child.” Kingsley takes a bite out of an eggroll, and she watches him lick his fingers when he’s done. When he catches her staring, she feels heat spreading across her cheeks, but she tilts her chin and doesn’t look away this time. “You were wrong, little girl. I refused to share a pizza because I loathe mushrooms. They taste of dirt and grit to me.”
“Why would you order chicken with mushrooms then?” She finally looks away, feeling flushed and confused without even knowing why.
“You’re the clever one. You tell me.” Kingsley’s voice is low and deep, yet there’s a tone that is almost challenging.
“You made a mistake when ordering,” she suggests, clearing her throat when he lets out a husky laugh in response. “Or not.”
“You can do better than that, Hermione.”
“You ordered it for me.” She raises her head and looks at him. “You knew we were meeting at the end of the day, so you ordered food so we could eat during our meeting. You wanted to spend time with me that wasn’t about reports and proposals.”
“Well done. Fifty points to Gryffindor.” He nods at her before taking a bite of beef and peppers. When she opens her mouth, he holds up a chop stick and shakes his head once. “You don’t want to continue asking questions, little girl. I doubt you’ll like the answers.”
“You don’t know that,” she says, feeling heat in the pit of her belly at the way he’s looking at her. Her skin feels tight and warm, and she isn’t overly familiar with this, so she doesn’t know what to do about it. With Ron, there had been tingles and it had been sweet, in a way, but she isn’t feeling very sweet right now. This feels grown up and wicked, and she likes it even if it scares her a little.
“Eat your dinner, little girl, and then run along home. Take the weekend off.” Kingsley leans back and focuses on his carton of food. She’s been dismissed, and it irritates her that he’s just deciding for her.
“Stop calling me a little girl. No matter how often you say it, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m a woman.”
“You’re eighteen, and a few months ago, you believed yourself in love with Ron Weasley. You’re too young to know what you want.” Kingsley frowns at her. “We shouldn’t even be discussing this. It’s inappropriate, and I am too bloody exhausted to deal with this on top of everything else right now.”
“I’m nineteen, Kingsley. My birthday was a couple of weeks ago. I’m a consenting adult, and I don’t think it’s inappropriate to have a discussion about something that is obviously happening between us.” Hermione nibbles on her bottom lip. “I know you’re overwhelmed with everything going on, so it’s probably wrong of me to push this, but I don’t want to think back in a few months or years and wonder what might have happened if we’d talked about this.”
“And I’m in my thirties, which is too old to even be thinking about the way your eyes sparkle when you’re passionate about something or the way your legs look in that skirt.” Kingsley glares at her. “Not to mention those full breasts and pouty lips. Don’t even get me started on your mind, your loyalty, your bravery…”
“You aren’t old.” She isn’t sure his exact age, but she knows he was at Hogwarts the same time as Bill, at least for a couple of years, so he can’t be ancient in the way he makes it sound. “You’re just giving me excuses. Your age isn’t a valid reason to ignore this chemistry.”
“You want valid reasons? What about the fact that I’m the Minister of Magic, and you are an employee at the Ministry? Or that I’m more than a decade older than you. Merlin, you aren’t even out of your teens yet. Your only relationship lasted a few weeks and just ended recently. All we’re feeling is attraction based on working so closely together, and it’s not logical to pursue something that is likely to make things more difficult for us.” Kingsley actually uses his fingers to count off his points, and she can definitely see the Ravenclaw making an appearance.
“I’m not suggesting that we run off and elope, Kingsley.” She reaches over and puts her hand on his to stop the counting. “I’m attracted to you because you’re an intelligent, strong, compassionate, handsome man who always makes me feel safe. It has nothing to do with working closely these past few months. That’s given me an opportunity to get to know you better, yes, but it’s not the only reason I feel this way. Sure, the timing is unfortunate, but I don’t see why we can’t pursue it, even if we keep it to ourselves until we’re ready to go public. It might not be logical, but that doesn’t mean we can’t do something for ourselves. I want you, Kingsley, and I see nothing wrong with that.”
Kingsley arches a brow and strokes his fingers against her hand. “I already planned to approve your proposals. I read through the file when you dropped it off yesterday. Your points were valid and the supporting documentation was superb, as expected. I didn’t cancel the meeting because I wanted to spend time with you, as you correctly guessed earlier. I got distracted because it’s so easy to rile you up, and you’re beautiful when you’re making a point that you’re passionate about.” He lowers his gaze to her mouth. “Tell me; are you a virgin, Hermione?”
“No. Ron and I…we had sex a few times before we decided that things weren’t going to work out between us.” Hermione feels awkward discussing it, but she can’t claim she’s a woman instead of a child if she gets embarrassed talking bluntly about sex.
“Good.” The word is almost a growl, and she has no warning before he’s moving. She’s pinned back against the sofa with his mouth on hers and his hand on her thigh before she can catch her breath. Bloody hell. This is what had been missing with Ron. There hadn’t been any spark once they finally got together. She moans into the kiss and becomes an active participant, not wanting Kingsley to think she doesn’t want this. When he pushes the crotch of her knickers to the side, she tenses because it’s going so fast, but he keeps kissing her, and his fingers feel so good against her that she relaxes and presses down against him.
He’s hard against her thigh, rubbing against her as his fingers tease her. When the kissing stops, he moves his mouth down her neck, whispering things into her skin that she can’t quite hear. His mouth is wet against her blouse, her nipples hardening as he sucks at them through the material. “Kingsley.” His name is a breathless whine as he strokes her until she’s soaking wet and craving more.
“Not yet, little girl.” He moves lower, sliding his fingers out of her and licking them clean while staring into her eyes. It’s one of the most arousing things she’s ever seen. “Now to taste from the source.”
Her eyes widen when she realizes what he means, and this is definitely something that Ron never did. He pushes her skirt up to her waist and tugs her knickers down before he’s there, face buried between her legs, tongue licking at her in ways she never imagined could feel this good. Merlin. No wonder women like this. She’s always thought it sounded a little gross, but she’ll happily tell anyone who asks that she was wrong. “Bloody hell,” she murmurs, shifting her body on the sofa so she can rub against his face. It doesn’t take her long before she tenses and comes with a soft whimper. He keeps licking at her, though, using his fingers and his tongue in ways that make her toes curl and her pulse race. Only after she comes a second time does he finally stop.
“I can’t believe I came in my trousers like an inexperienced schoolboy,” he mutters, crawling back up her body and kissing her thoroughly. His face is wet, and she can taste herself on him, which is something she has to adjust to but she does because she’s sated and her body is loose and relaxed in a way she hasn’t felt for a long time. When they pull apart, he cups her cheek and stares down at her. “You have no idea what you’re getting into, little girl.”
She smiles at him and reaches up to touch his face. “I’m looking forward to finding out, old man.”
End