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“Fucking Salazar,” he cried out as Hermione yanked the bandage around his leg tighter. “Do you have to be so rough?”
“You have no idea, Rowle,” she replied with a bit of a grin. “Besides it wasn’t my pulling causing the pain. It was you getting hit with the slicing hex,” she told him as if he didn’t already know that.
“Maybe I just like it rough in a different way,” he suggested. She made to step away from his bed in the make-shift infirmary, but he reached a hand out and wrapped it around her waist, pulling her close. “I can make it worth your while,” he whispered.
Hermione balanced her hands on his chest to keep from falling into him. “It’s against the ethics of a Healer to have a relationship with her patient,” she reminded him primly. “Besides, how rough could it be with your lame leg?” She offered him a wink before slipping out of his embrace entirely.
“It’s a war, there are no ethics,” he called after her. She offered him a wave as the door clanged shut and it locked automatically. It may be a war, but they were on opposite sides and Thorfinn found he wasn’t even upset when he had been captured by the Order forces. If nothing else, it gave him a few days of rest. And perhaps, he could actually convince Granger to join him in bed. He grinned to himself. He was pretty sure she would be a wild-cat in bed.
~Finn~
