Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy or Harry Potter. Buffy and related characters belong to Whedon. Harry Potter and related characters belong to JK Rowling.

Originally for TwistedShorts August Fic-a-Day Challenge (Day 06)

A/N: This is somewhat AU concerning the epilogue of Deathly Hallows. And this is set, for Angel, sometime after Spike became corporeal again, but before the end.

Extra Credit

"I don't think this would be considered very academic," Spike smirked, leaving a trail of kisses along her neck.

Hermione Granger—newest recruit to the Ministry's Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures—was almost done with the studies necessary for her job. All that had been left was a month-long stint in wherever the Ministry assigned her, studying whatever they assigned her to study. Or whomever, as the case may be.

Ron had wanted to follow along, since he was her fiancé and "practically married to her," but she had put her foot down. She was a grown woman, fully capable of spending a month on her own. And Ron was needed back home to help with the joke shop. It took a good bit of heavy conversation—re: arguing—but she finally convinced him.

So she got assigned to the States, to Los Angeles particularly, to study the vampire William the Bloody—more popularly known in the history books as Spike. Hermione was supposed to stay in the background, to study him from afar. But Spike was a special case, in more ways than one. He had a soul, and he was more than able to spot someone tailing him. She had tried to pose as an employee of the muggle—and she applied that term loosely—law firm, Wolfram and Hart, that he had been last seen hanging about.

She had been there a week before she had been found out. And considering the circumstances—since she really meant him no harm—she had come clean.

"My name is Hermione Granger. I'm a witch, and I'm here to study you as the last part of the training necessary to enter my Ministry's Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. I'm here to look, not touch, so to speak. So, if it's quite all right, I would just like to follow you about, just until my case study is concluded."

He'd raised a brow at that, not certain whether to believe her or not. She liked to think that it helped her case that they were both from "across the pond." But he had submitted her before his comrades, had her tested—which had meant singing for a delightful, green-skinned demon—and had been declared as telling the truth. It annoyed him and flattered him, the idea of a woman following him about just scribbling notes. And he had muttered more than once something about a "bloody Watcher's Council," but Hermione had assured him that it would all be better for her and her study if he would just act as if she wasn't there. He had a hard time doing that.

And when the time came to study his personal life, the one the history books hadn't recorded, that was when it all went downhill. And it was how she ended up in her current, ahem, position.

Spike's teeth grazed the top of her breasts, moments before his tongue snaked out to taste her. She shuddered pleasurably.

"I shouldn't be doing this," she said, trying to sit up.

He had sneaked her inside one of the unused offices. The tension had been building for the past couple of weeks, despite her own denial. Little flirtations that she claimed to herself were "innocent," the sharing of secrets that she had not even told Ron… and finally, they had kissed. She should have stopped it there, should have stopped it before it started. But she had fallen victim to his charms and had allowed him to lead her by the hand as they ducked inside the office. He had had her out of her clothes in record time.

"I'm engaged," she said, blushing.

Spike sat up beside her, shaking his head.

"You never said…"

"I know. I know! I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head. "Our wedding is in a few months and… I don't know. I guess I was just getting cold feet."

He didn't say anything. He simply waited, watching her patiently. She took a shuddering breath, willing herself not to cry. He placed an arm around her, nothing but comfort in the move.

"I'm sorry. This isn't fair to you."

He shrugged, a half smile on his face. "I'm used to this."

That didn't help the way she felt. She turned to stare at him, to search his eyes, his face, for some measure of forgiveness. She really shouldn't have done that. Her searching stare lasted only a second before her lips were on his.

"You said you that you were in love with a slayer, that you had slept with her and several other human women, right?" she asked, pulling away hastily.

He nodded. She nodded once, decisive.

"Then I have to study why," she said, leaning in.

He stopped her, shaking his head.

"We don't have to do this."

"It's academic. Like… like extra credit."

"But your fiancé…"

She shrugged. "I can't talk about work with him, anyhow. It's against the rules."

They sat a moment longer. Finally, he shook his head.

"Whatever the lady wants."

End Notes: Okay, so maybe a little OOC for Hermione, but I did a follow up that should clear the air a little. If you want to read the follow up, just add this little pretty to your story alerts as I just plan to add it on as a second chapter. I hope you liked it. Please review!