You can all thank "drippingwithsin" for this one, who reminded me of how underrated Molly/Hermione is. Hope you enjoy!
The war had cost many lives, and propriety had destroyed many others. For Molly Weasley, her life would go on, but the wizarding tradition of one marriage, and one marriage only left her alone after the final battle had taken the life of her husband, Arthur. Legally, she could not take another husband, and unless she wished to bring shame to her family, taking a lover was not an option either. It was no wonder, she thought, that the wizarding population remained so small compared to the muggles. How many women had been widowed young, never allowed to move on to some other man with whom she might have had a child?
Not that Molly was interested in having more children. She had seven, and by the grace of Merlin, every one of them had survived the war. Just not Arthur. Most days, the notion of being alone didn't bother her too much, but during the nights, she felt cold and empty, and desperately wished that someone...anyone… would join her in bed and just hold her.
She'd been up all night again, and as Molly watched the sun rise, she got an idea. It was ridiculous, and wouldn't help in the long term, but for a night, perhaps she could rest easy with the comfort of a lover. The only thing she really had to ensure was that he, whomever he wound up to be, never knew her identity. She didn't want to get anyone else in trouble, so the use of Polyjuice was out of the question. She was not overly skilled at Transfiguration, so the notion of morphing her body into something it wasn't was also out.
What Molly did happen to be good at, however, was Potions. Fred and George had inherited that skill from their mum, no question. One night of comfort, she mused, might be as simple as a de-aging potion. She could avoid anyone who might remember what she looked like when she was just out of Hogwarts, and she couldn't say she minded one bit at the notion of taking to bed with a willing, much younger man; so long as it wasn't one of her six sons, or young Harry. Ginny would never forgive her if it came out that her mother had seduced her boyfriend. Otherwise, all bets were off.
Hermione Granger never expected to be that girl; the one who goes to a random bar with the decidedly singular intent of getting shagged. That said, she'd decided that she'd rather be found out to be a slut than to spend one more night alone. Being bisexual, Hermione felt that she really had no excuse for going without physical comfort. There were three million men in the world, and three million women, and odds had to be that at least one of them would be inclined to take her to bed tonight.
Once at the bar, brown eyes scanned the choices before her, trying to decide who would be most likely to say yes, when she asked them to come home with her. Men were decidedly easier to seduce, if Ron's girlfriend Lavender's opinion was anything to go on, but for whatever reason, Hermione was feeling more inclined to go for a woman tonight.
There, Hermione decided, eyeing a woman who looked to be only a few years older than she was. She had red hair, similar to that of Ginny's, and wore a summer dress that showed off a pair of very nice legs. Hermione didn't recognize her, and wondered if she might be older than she looked. Even in her first year, Hermione interacted with many of the upper level students at Hogwarts, so whoever this was either had to be more than seven years older than her, or not be from around here.
She slid onto the bar stool next to the mystery woman. "A gorgeous woman like you shouldn't be drinking alone, you know," Hermione said smoothly. "Mind company?"
Molly had been deep in thought when she realized that someone was speaking to her. She'd only been in the bar for a few minutes, and had already ruled out half of the occupants via simple lack of attraction. It was frustrating to see so many young people, all ever so rowdy and not inspiring any sort of confidence that they could ease the ache for one moment. How did one gauge maturity just by looking at a person?
"Huh?" she said, turning to face whoever was talking to her.
Molly blinked when she recognized Hermione Granger sitting beside her now. Her first thought was one of wondering if Hermione had recognized her. Merlin knew the young woman had spent plenty of time around her in the last few years. Then, Molly's brain registered Hermione's words, and she realized that her youngest son's best friend had just hit on her.
"Sorry," Hermione apologized. "Didn't mean to startle you. I just, well… you looked as lonely as I am. Thought we could have a drink together, and then maybe, find somewhere less noisy and just talk. I'm Hermione, by the way."
"Evelyn," Molly lied after a pause, buying time to decide what on earth to do now. She wasn't an idiot; she could read between the lines. Hermione Granger, supposed good girl, was not only hitting on someone she thought was a perfect stranger, but was intent on taking said stranger home tonight. Molly hadn't known Hermione was gay, or bi, or whatever, but she did know how lonely the younger witch was. This was not the first conversation they'd had about it. "And let's start with that drink and see where things go."
Hermione ordered the barman to fill Molly's glass, and as casual conversation about post-war Wizarding society went on, the older woman gave serious thought to her current predicament. Hermione obviously wanted to take her to bed, and it had been Molly's objective to do much the same. That said, this was Hermione. She'd watched this young, beautiful woman grow up, and while she wasn't dating one of Molly children, she was a close friend to both Ron and Ginny, not to mention the twins.
Had she been herself, Hermione never would have hit on her, nor would she have dared reciprocate, but when it boiled down to the point, Molly was not herself, and this was only a one-off. Despite being female, Hermione was exactly what Molly had been hoping to find. A mature young person to take to bed. Molly had never found herself attracted to another woman before, but as she thought about her needs for tonight, she found no reason that a woman couldn't offer as much comfort as a man could. Besides, she'd try anything once. So, she started flirting, after promising herself that when it was over, she would come clean to Hermione. She owed the younger witch that much.
"You wanna get out of here?" Hermione asked after a while, sliding her hand gently onto Molly's thigh, and dragging her fingers upward, pushing away the summer dress as she did.
To Molly's surprise, this action turned out to be quite arousing, and suddenly any lingering hesitation vanished into thin air. All at once, the thirty years missing from her age didn't seem fake at all, and she moaned quietly as the tip of Hermione's finger brushed against her underwear. "Yes…" she whimpered. "Side-Along?"
In response, Hermione's hand moved away from Molly's inner thigh, and her strong arms encircled Molly's waist. A moment and a loud POP later, the two women were standing in, presumably, Hermione's living room.
Hermione wasn't called the brightest witch of her age for no reason. She'd began to suspect the woman now staring at her with lust filled eyes was Molly Weasley all of ten minutes into their conversation, and had confirmed it with a subtly cast identification charm a few minutes later when the other woman's back was turned. At that point, she'd had a decision to make.
She and Molly had conversed about their frustrations of wizarding society many times before, including the older witch's struggle with loneliness as per the expectation that she remain single after being widowed. That in mind, it hadn't really surprised her that Molly would disguise herself with a de-aging potion and come out looking for companionship. It seemed a very natural thing to do.
That said, while she had also come out tonight seeking a lover to ease the pain with, and she had wanted a woman, this woman was Mrs. Molly Weasley. Ron and Ginny's mum. This was Arthur Weasley's widow, whom up to an hour ago, Hermione had only ever thought of as a surrogate mother. After realizing who her target was, Hermione had quickly decided to enjoy the conversation for a while, and then take her leave, knowing that while Molly had no idea Hermione knew who she was, Hermione did know, and she felt wrong to take advantage of this woman's desperation.
Then, Molly had begun to flirt with her, and Hermione had been unsure of how to respond. She'd expected Molly would be thinking much the same as she was - feign ignorance and then walk away, sparing both of them the awkwardness of the morning after. With the older witch now becoming the initiator, despite knowing exactly who Hermione was and what the potential consequences of their coupling could be, the brunette decided to just go with it. So, she asked Molly to come home with her, and Molly said yes.
As soon as they'd arrived in her flat, Hermione lunged forward and captured Molly's lips with her own, determined to get the proverbial ball going before one of them lost their nerve and this became awkward. Explanations could come after - she would tell Molly that she knew exactly who she was taking to bed later, but for now, she could not bring herself to rob this wonderful woman of her night of comfort. Merlin knew they both desperately needed it.
Molly responded with vigor to the kiss, and before too long, kisses became languorous, allowing them each clarity of mind enough to slowly undress, and in the process of such, the older woman allowed herself to be led down a short hall and into the bedroom.
"Hermione…" Molly breathed. "I need you…"
No disrespect to her deceased husband's memory, but Molly had never been more aroused in her life. She could feel the trickle of liquid dripping down her thigh by the time she and Hermione made it to the bedroom, and her heart almost stopped when the younger woman eased her on to the bed, and then collected the dribble with her tongue, before spreading Molly's legs further and moving her mouth right to the source. "Oh, gods!" she gasped, fisting the thick comforter with one hand, and squeezing her own breast with the other.
Hermione expertly teased Molly's clit, flicking her tongue in perfect time to the gasps coming out of the older woman's mouth. The buildup was slow, but constant, and Molly was certain she was going to get a good orgasm out of this. Then, Molly felt Hermione's finger begin to circle around her opening, as if to test if it was ready to be intruded on. Experience told Molly to brace herself, and she bit her lip; experience also dictated that she muffle the cry of completion, so as not to wake one of the children.
"Relax, love," Hermione whispered, pausing in her ministrations "No one will hear you…"
Molly let out a sigh of contentment, astonished that this young woman knew her well enough to understand why she was holding back, and before she could form another thought, Hermione slowly eased two fingers into her body, and resumed licking the swollen nub. She moved along leisurely at first, and Molly could feel the orgasm retaking form. Hermione picked up the pace, and Molly's hips began to move with the rhythm.
The older witch's stomach muscles were so tight she could hardly breathe when Hermione finally stopped licking, and gave her full attention to hard, fast strokes of the hand, each and every one hitting just the right spot, and moments later, Molly came harder than she had ever come in her life. A tear escaped her eye; the relief was so intense.
Molly lay there panting as Hermione lifted her head and began peppering kisses on her stomach, moving deliberately higher with each one. She paused to suckle on Molly's breasts for a little while, causing the older woman's still very sensitive body to shudder. By the time Hermione found Molly's lips again, the older woman was smiling blissfully, and welcoming the contact of one naked body on top of another. "That was amazing," she whispered.
"Hummm," Hermione muttered non-committedly.
"Truly, Hermione," she insisted. "In fact, as soon as I can breathe properly again, I intend to show you just how inspiring it was."
"You don't have to," the younger woman said weakly.
In a moment of clarity, Molly realized that Hermione had known who she was all along. If she hadn't already loved this young woman, she certainly did now. Much like she had been unsure of the wisdom of this coupling, Molly knew Hermione would have carefully considered the implications of them going to bed together. If she also deemed the risk worthwhile, then Molly had nothing to lose from confronting her about it. "You know," she accused.
Hermione's brown eyes filled with shame. "Yeah…" she muttered. "I was going to be honest with you about it, after. I just… I thought we both needed this."
Molly nodded. "I intended to come clean to you as well. I couldn't have kept this from you, though I did worry you'd be rather vexed with me after finding out."
In response, Hermione eagerly kissed Molly again, and the older witch accepted the sign of forgiveness in a heartbeat. This night, however mad it seemed, was meant to be. It could only have been serendipity to bring both of them into the same bar, looking for the same sort of comfort.
Can I continue this? Yeeesss. Will I? Maaayyybee... marked complete for now, as it can stand alone, but there is room for more. Please review!