Succubus Surprises
Hermione's close friends have accepted her for who she is. Of course, there were still many in the wizarding community who simply could not believe that their great war heroine Hermione Granger, was a succubus. But no matter how malicious the despise contained in their looks was, her friends' gaze never held it.
The Weasleys, Harry, and her closest friends, all understood that this is something Hermione was simply born with and could not help. They knew that she could change her appearance at will, suited to whichever man she was seducing so as to be most attractive to him; but for the most part, she assumed her natural appearance – frizzy-haired, slightly buck-toothed, nerdy Hermione. Their Hermione.
They understood that she wouldn't harm them in any way, least of all steal their energy while causing their health to deteriorate through sex. They knew that if she had ever wanted to, she'd had plenty of time to take advantage of them in the past 5 years since her succubus maturity. But she never did, and the dire situation had never arisen in which they had had to offer.
And that's why it was so surprising when one night, Fred did offer.
Hermione blinked. "You realise…it will make you sick."
Fred shrugged. "I'll get better."
That drew a snort from her. "I suppose once wouldn't hurt you drastically," she said. For a moment, she let herself contemplate the possibility of a night of wonderful bliss between them. Then she shut down the thought. She couldn't, wouldn't, let herself consider that only to be disappointed when he leaves in the morning. "But still. No."
"Hermione," Fred whined. Hermione ignored him, trying to focus on her book and not on the thought of pinning him down and riding him until sunrise. He hopped on her bed next to her and poked his face in front of her book. "Please?"
"Jeez, Fred, you must be pretty desperate to be asking for sex from a succubus," Hermione said, swatting his head away.
"Always wondered what it'd be like," Fred replied cheerfully, making Hermione raise an eyebrow.
"Is that why? Curiosity?" She tried to ignore the sting in her chest.
"No, of course not," Fred said hastily. "Well…not for the succubus part of it at least…"
"What does that mean?"
Fred scratched the back of his neck, looking a bit awkward. "I, err…I just wanted…you know how you change into the appearance that a guy most desires?"
"Yes?"
"Well…I just wanted to, erm, to know what you'd change into for me."
Hermione sat still. "So you're using me." Then she pushed Fred off of her bed. "Go away Fred." As soon as he'd gotten up, rubbing his elbow, she turned him and pushed him towards the door.
"Wait. Hermione!"
"Get out of my room Fred." She pushed him out the door, too focused on trying to keep her voice angry instead of hurt to care when he hit his injured elbow on the doorframe.
"Hermione," Fred pleaded, sounding genuinely distressed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way. I only wanted…" Hermione glared, waiting for his explanantion. "Look, I've been wondering lately. About a girl."
Hermione was pretty sure her heart stopped for a second. Who was this girl who Fred loved?
"And?"
"And I…well, I wasn't sure, you see? About my feelings for her," he said, licking his lips. "So I thought, if you changed into her, the person who I desired most…then I'd know."
She didn't want to. She didn't want to see this other girl who received the love of the boy who held hers. She didn't want to pretend to be her for a night. Because Merlin knows she would take advantage of that, of being able to pretend that Fred was making love to her and not that girl, to pretend that it was her who was receiving his love. Only to realise the next morning that it was never her, that it never will be. She thought that that would break her heart.
"Lust isn't the same as love, Fred," she sighed. "Nor is attraction."
"I know," he said. "I want to try anyway."
Hermione didn't say anything to that. She was almost tempted to close the door on him, if only to drive out the temptation of taking the chance to pretend anyway, despite the heartbreak.
"Hermione," Fred said softly. "I'm sorry, I know it's rude of me to ask this of you. It's…it's perfectly fine if you refuse…"
"It's okay," Hermione said abruptly. "I can…we can see your mystery girl without, um, without having to…" She trailed off.
"Can you?" Fred asked with genuine interest, somewhat lifting Hermione's mood.
"Well, yes," Hermione said, opening the door so he could re-enter her room. "I'd have to change to catch a guy's attention before we ever enter the bedroom, y'know?" She walked back to her bed, picking up her book from the covers and setting it on the bedside table, and sat down on her bed. "So we can…start until I can change, and then stop there."
He sat down next to her. "What do you mean, start until you can change?"
"Well, in order to know what he wants most, a guy has to show interest in me first, to let my body know what he wants," Hermione explained. "Like, a glance across the bar, y'know? Or a flirtatious wink. Or even a kiss, if it's dark enough." She felt only a smidge of guilty pleasure at telling him this half-truth. She usually didn't need something as strong as a kiss to understand what lewd men wanted, but there was no reason she couldn't enjoy this pretence, if only for a little while. "The stronger the action of attraction expression, the better my body can understand."
"So you don't know what he wants until you change?"
"No. Usually I'll let him kiss me, then excuse myself for a bathroom to let myself change, then come back out."
"Okay," Fred said. "So what should I do? Wink at you?" He demonstrated with a highly exaggerated flirty wink that brought giggles to her lips. She was glad for his jokes; easing the tension between them made it easier when the time comes.
"That would work," she said. "Or something stronger. Like I said, the more desire-revealing the action, the easier it is for me." Because I am helping you. I am definitely not trying to enjoy receiving your attraction. "Kiss me," she said, fully aware of how demanding and suggestive it sounded. "Just…" she bit her lip. "Just pretend I'm her and kiss me as if I was her."
He stared at her for a moment, trying, she assumed, to imagine another girl's face on her body, before leaning in suddenly, taking away her breath. She held in a moan as their lips touched and his hand slipped into her hair; she couldn't let him know she was enjoying this, she's only meant to be helping him. But oh, was she enjoying it. Her hand tangled itself in the locks of dark red hair at the base of his neck, the way she'd wanted to for the better part of the past year, while her other hand gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him closer. They fell back against her bed, his body pressingly comfortably into hers from above. She could hear him breathing heavily as his hands roamed her body.
So this is how he feels about his girl, her brain thought, unhelpfully, jolting her from bliss into reality. She had to stop this before it got too far for her to save herself from heartbreak. This was enough. She pulled away.
"Is that enough for you to do it?" Fred breathed into her neck, his husky voice sending shivers down her core.
"Yes," she whispered, her eyes closed and her face turned away from him. She reminded herself that that was all he wanted. To see his girl. Not her. No matter how much his distracting wandering hands suggested otherwise.
She took a deep breath, letting the familiar feeling of attraction wash over her. Somewhere, at the back of her mind, that indescribable understanding clicked, as it always does, and she waited, letting her body take over.
The usual warmth of the transformation never came.
She opened her eyes, confused.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice still husky.
"I'm not changing," she said. "I let my body change, but it isn't doing it. This hasn't ever happened to me before."
"Maybe I haven't let you know well enough what I want," Fred said, and leaned down to distract her again by placing kisses down her neck.
"No," she said breathlessly, as he trailed kisses slowly from her ear down to her collarbone, which was exposed now that the top button of her shirt had fallen open. "No, that was more than enough. I don't understand why…" she trailed off, unable to keep her moan contained as he start sucking on her collarbone.
He was making it very hard for her to remember that she was only doing him a favour. Focus, Granger.
"Fred, what if I'm losing that ability?" she asked, worried. "What if I can't show you who you want?"
He stopped kissing her neck, much to its disappointment. He pulled back from her body, and his eyes made their way from her eyes down her neck and torso, down her leg, staring intently at every inch, and then up again, until his green eyes, dark with desire, was gazing into hers again.
"Hermione," he said. "I don't need you to change. I love you just the way you are."
…~o.O.o~…
As the dawn spread itself within her rooms, Hermione was struck with the sinking realisation.
"I know, Hermione," Fred whispered, when she shared her fear of hurting him with their passion. "I know this won't be the most conventional of relationships, Hermione, but I don't care. All I care about is that I love you, and by some blessing of Merlin you feel the same way. I know we'll make it work."
For all the studying she'd done on succubi, Hermione never thought she could find love whilst being one. But it didn't matter how much derisive doubt other people's gazes at them held, she didn't care, because in his gaze there was only love.
