Author: Nes
Rating: R
Disclaimer: JKR is the root of all
BREAD & HONEY SABBAT
Hermione never ate bread and honey at her parents' home. The idea of saccharine goo squeezed out of a bear-shaped plastic container onto a plate of dry white toast was messy and unappetizing. But in the Hogwarts kitchens, she delighted in the chipped china bowl the House Elves provided and ran her knife's edge along the comb and split it open. Then she took fresh-baked bread and tore it into bits with her small hands, taking pieces and dipping them into the bowl of honey. She closed her eyes, chewed slowly , and licked the sweetness as it ran down her fingers. Sometimes, when she menstruated, she added tender roast ham to her ritual, winding the strips on a long fork and alternating bites of sweet with salt.
Of course, she only enjoyed this luxury at night. Morning was for coffee and fruit, something she could eat while reading a book or glossing the past day's notes. The indulgence of bread and honey took two hands.
And it was pure indulgence. She waited until the third weekend of seventh year before giving herself the gift. Of course, she had already been down to the kitchens with the boys and berated their hoarding of candy and pumpkin pasties, but the House Elves kept her secret. It had been a good week, two exams down and a birthday quietly celebrated.
She felt warm and replete with contentment afterwards, feeling her way past the Great Hall in the dark. But when she turned into the next corridor, she could sense a difference. There was a soft, woodsy musk of leaves in the air. It was pleasant but most certainly did not belong inside the castle.
Satisfaction gave way to curiosity, she put her ear to the door of classroom eleven. There was a slight rustling, like trees moving. Tentatively, she pushed the handle down and opened the door. With her first step, she felt a deep languor overtake her. Her school-regulation heels pushed into moss below her and she paused to take them off. She left them near the entrance and began to explore. Classroom eleven, she recalled, had briefly housed Divination during Firenze's tenure in fourth year; it was perfectly safe.
Yes, there were trees moving softly. She could see slivers of the moon overhead through the thick green canopy. She moved further in, loosening her tie and brushing her hands against the rough bark of tree trunks. Sliding her hands up, she pulled away black ribbon restraining her hair and let it fall down past her shoulders. She kept moving through the slants of pale starlight, deeper into the forest.
She emerged in a glade with a small pool of clear water surrounded by smooth rocks. It was calm and saw her reflection with only the slightest undulation. She sat on one of the rocks to remove her knee socks. It was cool and soothing against her bare legs. She stood barefoot, loving the feel of loam underfoot. She wanted to wade in the shallow silvery pool, but a hand on her arm stopped her.
She had thought she was alone.
Hermione looked up. He was taller than her and his eyes were blue as nothing else in this silver and brown wood was. She didn't remember him ever being this beautiful in class. Two small horns curled out of his black hair like wisps of smoke. His hand on her arm grew unbearably warm and she could feel the violent thrum of her heart with each second his touch remained. He was naked. She wanted him badly. Frightened by her want, she broke contact and stepped back; a leaf broke quietly beneath her step.
He laughed, then smiled invitingly towards her and held out his arms. She went to him slowly. Holding back was an endeavor, she wanted to ask what he was doing and what this place was and where were his clothes and why but he brushed his mouth and her mouth and her questions remained quiescent. She leaned in, losing herself in the smooth of his skin. The embrace sent her shuddering for air as his hands traveled beneath her shirt and reaching for her breasts. She clung to him greedily; she wanted to crawl inside him. She twined her fingers about his neck, caressing his soft skin. Gasping, she pulled away to remove her shirt and threw it over his shoulder. Again, he laughed. This time, she did, too. She licked at his collarbone, pushing her head against his chest the way his erection pulsed against her belly. He sucked on her throat, up the line of her jaw to her ear before pressing his way downwards again. He lay them down in the moss. His hands were everywhere and then his hands were there perfectly, spreading her wetness carelessly. His mouth covered her when she let out her release in a low, heavy moan. And then he was above her and all she could do was crash her mouth against his mouth and try to get deeper inside.
Hermione woke up the next morning, sore and happy. It had not been like that during the summer. Never with Viktor had she felt natural, both times she had been too preoccupied with mechanics and giving correctly. Last night, she had not even thought of artistry, too lost in craving.Today, she felt like like giving up her studies and becoming a professional wanton. She hadn't expected such a gift from Blaise Zabini, he was usually so reserved; then again, so was she.
Smiling with the memory, she rolled onto her back but Blaise wasn't beside her. Instead, her school uniform and panties were folded in a neat pile and there were the horns from last night, revealed to be string and paper in the light of day.
She dressed quietly and resolved not to regret, even if she did want another night like the one before, one would be enough. She would make it last.
Professor Dumbledore was waiting for her outside the door to classroom eleven. His eyes were not twinkling. She went with him in her stocking feet, holding her shoes like a shield between them. Finally seated inside his office, the fire blazing in the hearth, he looked at her seriously.
"Miss Granger, this school has rules for a reason. Head Girl you might have been, but you are not allowed to wander the corridors after curfew. I am afraid I have to remove you from your position."
Hermione sat very still, hands in her lap. She waited, knowing she must have trespassed more seriously than a mere curfew offense.
"Last night was the autumnal equinox. Although we don't recognize the occasion since the British Ministry reformed, the old ways still hold in certain parts of the Continent. Mr. Zabini is from one of those areas. For that reason, we provide him with a place to celebrate in the traditional fashion. You interrupted his observance at a point when he was, shall we say, vulnerable."
She felt dangerously close to retching. "Are you saying I raped him?"
"No, or you would find yourself expelled. Part of the Italian Sabbat ritual is the ingestion of certain substances that release a person from their inhibitions."
"So he-"
"Mr. Zabini has not made charges. Beyond that, you must settle the matter between yourselves, at his discretion. If Mr. Zabini chooses to forget the matter, I will enforce his decision."
"Oh."
"Now I must ask you to take these," he gestured to two vials on his desk. "Since the Sabbat began as fertility festival, it nullifies the usual charms and potions."
"I'm on Muggle birth control," she told him but still drank the two offered potions.
When she gave them back, his voice softened, "Miss Granger, I know you did not mean any harm. Be prepared to return to Gryffindor tower this afternoon; there will be no further punishment from the school."
She ran to Moaning Myrtle's and threw up.
Blaise was waiting for her outside. He was wearing his uniform and robes even though it was the weekend and there were no classes. She stared at him, wanting to apologize. He stared back, his black eyes hard and Hermione took his blank expression for anger.
Finally he gave a curt nod and she followed him to an empty nook.
She was careful to keep at least two feet between them. "I'm sorry-"
"Save it. I know you are."
His voice was rough but rich and Hermione remembered how beautiful he was last night in the glade by the pool. She tried not to wince as the image flashed in her mind.
"Look, I know you didn't do it on purpose but if I'd wanted to share that with someone I barely know, I would've stayed in the dorm last night and fucked Draco. I'll try not to hold it against you, but it never would have happened if I'd been in control."
"I am very sorry. Is there anything I can-"
"There's not," he gave her an ugly smirk. "You weren't a virgin; I wouldn't have expected that. Good thing one of us wasn't."
Hermione did wince at that.
"I wasn't waiting for marriage or anything," he rolled his eyes. "Just stay away from me."
He left her there; the taste of bread, honey, and Blaise sour in her mouth.
Author's notes: Okay (1) This was an experiment, it was going to be a PWP but I can't write smut and it turned into something else. (2) Didn't it turn into a nightmare? (3) I was thinking of making this into a three-parter, but I'm only writing a sequel if I can find the balls to do it. (4) I don't know what I'm doing and if you're going to yell, could you do it nicely? I'm fragile. (5) I never made a claim as to a "sabbat" in regards to anyone's religion. What Blaise does in his ritual is my invention and not intended to offend.