Welcome to part 2 of this trilogy! As before, I own absolutely nothing and make absolutely nothing off these stories, they're merely for the enjoyment of myself and others.
I will be honest, there will be a lot of references to the previous story so if you haven't read it, you might want to just so you aren't lost. Or, if you just want to jump in, peruse the comments of the last story, it'll catch you up somewhat.
WARNING: There is mature content in this chapter to make up for the lack of Bellamione in the ending of the last story (The Daughter of Darkness if you're new here). It starts literally when Hermione arrives so use caution if that isn't your thing. The next -X- break is the non-sexy stuff.
A bit of this chapter touches on Draco and his views of the world. While it may seem a bit OOC, in hindsight I don't really think so. He's still Draco, but he has a little more depth to him.
Since this is the beginning of the story, I'm doing a top A/N but next chapter it'll be back at the bottom like normal so I apologize if a top one is disconcerting. There will be at least 40-50 chapters depending on how this goes and, while heavily a Bellamione story, it is also meant to follow their lives and Hermione's growth as a person and her relationships with others as well. It also follows their connection and love, so don't be too put off because I do plan to do them justice and that still be one of the major major focuses. This story is about them, after all.
I will always give warnings beforehand if there is anything sexual. There may be violent moments, but they usually aren't graphic and tend to follow the canon violence. If things are more graphic, there will be a warning as well.
I hope you enjoy and until next time, peace out!
-X-
Cornelius Fudge was in trouble and he knew it. Deniability was no longer a viable option and he was floundering under paperwork and scrutiny that he'd never expected to have when he'd taken office years ago. He'd argued and screamed, fight tooth and nail to convince the world He wasn't back and now, months later, he was trying desperately to regain footing with the Ministry and the entire Wizarding World.
The Daily Prophet retracted their former accusations and nasty words about Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore, trying to placate the angered masses – to fix the chaos Fudge had unwittingly tossed them into - while the Minister himself contemplated his life and the position he was in. Should he step down? Would everyone continue to blame them for the lack of awareness and planning?
How could he get out of this alive?
He glared at the paper resting in front of him and sighed. The world felt new and unknown, yet so old and familiar. They'd suffered through this before, but this was different. You-Know-Who already had followers and a platform; he could advance farther without the resistance he had the first go-round.
There was no proof as to who his followers were. Most of the Death Eaters had escaped the Ministry, leaving behind only a few stragglers and no-name criminals who He must have corralled into his army. None of their suspected Death Eaters had been caught and it left a horrible taste in his mouth. His dementors were revolting, wizards were calling him every terrible name they could think of and his nerves were shot to hell and back.
He was stuck – and it was his ignorance that caused all of his problems.
What am I going to do?
-X-
Malfoy Manor was just how Hermione remembered it. The iron gate stood tall, intimidating and commanding. It was a symbol of strength and power, towering over them and casting shadows along her body. Her things were hurriedly taken from her hands the moment she stepped through the gateway and onto the grounds. Death Eaters were milling about; some waved awkwardly while others smiled genuinely at her and the Malfoys.
Draco ushered her along. "Come. I'm sure Aunt Bella is dying to see you and I would like to miss your impending explicit reunion."
Lucius chuckled, his wife rolling her eyes at Draco's comment. He wasn't wrong, but he was not the only one who wanted to avoid the scene. It was bound to be graphic and clothes were surely going to be strewn throughout her home.
Hermione followed Draco's lead and slipped into the manor, only to be jerked from his side and slammed into the wall next to the door. Desperate lips meshed with her own, teeth digging into her bottom lip and sharp nails dug – almost painfully – into the skin exposed by the slight gap of her shirt and jeans. She flushed with desire and her moan was swallowed greedily.
"Really, Bella?" Narcissa snorted in disgust, steering Draco away. "At least wait until you're in your room."
"Good idea," the dark witch purred, stepping back. She grasped Hermione's hand and tugged her toward the stairs. Dolohov was laughing boisterously from his perch on the second floor railing, shaking his head while they rushed up to the third landing. He'd hope to greet the young Riddle, but alas, he would have to wait until later.
Bellatrix threw open the door and led Hermione inside, closing the door by pressing her roughly against it. She eagerly started pulling on Hermione's shirt, only to have gentle hands stopping hers.
"Slow down," Hermione panted with a smile. "We have time."
Bellatrix relaxed, smiling contentedly at her lover. "Merlin I've missed you."
"I missed you too," Hermione admitted, cupping Bellatrix's cheeks and kissing her so sweetly that tears sprang to the Death Eater's eyes. She'd never known someone so tender yet so fierce. She was passionate and brilliant with a streak of darkness that was entirely too sexy – and she was all Bella's.
Deepening the kiss, Bellatrix licked the back of Hermione's teeth playfully. Her fingers drifted along the plane of Hermione's stomach, a warm thigh pressing between the Gryffindor's legs. Groaning, Hermione's head banged against the door and her hands slipped into inky curls. "Merlin…"
A husky chuckle escaped Bellatrix's throat and she studied her lover, her gaze trailing along the curve of her jaw and downward to her waistline. "Bella will do," she replied cheekily.
Hermione's eyes were almost black, her pupils so dilated that they were drowning her irises. Lust swirled around the remaining color and she urged Bellatrix backward, delicately touching the older woman's shoulders so she could shove her onto the bed. She fell onto the mattress with an "oomph" and Hermione straddled her hips, capturing her in a sensual kiss and grinding salaciously against her clothed center. Bellatrix gripped Hermione's sides, intent to flip them but Hermione merely pushed against the woman's chest and pinned her.
"Not a chance," she purred. "You do what I say right now. Don't move."
Bellatrix's eyes widened and she swallowed dryly. Hermione was never dominant. Even during the Hogsmeade rendezvous, she'd remained rather submissive. This was a side of Hermione she'd never seen – and it instantly made her wet.
"Do you understand?" Bellatrix nodded so fast she was certain she'd give herself whiplash.
Hermione dragged a nail along Bellatrix's pale throat and smirked at the pounding pulse she found there. She'd never felt so empowered before; the right hand of the Dark Lord submitting to her command was the greatest ego boost she would ever encounter. A single line of red was left in her finger's wake, marring Bella's pale flesh.
She ground her hips harder into Bellatrix's, an obscene moan slipping from parted lips. Bellatrix's chest rose and fell rapidly, attentively watching her girlfriend's every move. Wet heat dampened the apex of her thighs, ruining her black lace panties. She ached to rub them together – to quench the burning - but it was impossible with Hermione resting tantalizingly on her hips, pinning her – willing – body to the mattress.
"Patience." Hermione winked lecherously, running her hands up her body and palming her own breasts teasingly, head tossed back as she played with her nipples. She could feel Bellatrix's need pulsing through her veins and it served only to intensify her own. Fire pooled in her belly and she decided that torturing Bellatrix wasn't worth it. She needed her and she needed her now. "Undress me."
Bellatrix jerked into an upright position, spreading Hermione's legs slightly and settling her comfortably on her lap. She tugged at Hermione's shirt, nearly ripping it in her haste to remove it from her lover and she nearly came at the sensation of Hermione's bared body beneath her hands. Her fingers flexed, the urge to stroke Hermione's exposed, supple skin.
"Touch me," Hermione commanded breathlessly. Her eyes rolled back in her head when her lover hurriedly unclasped her bra and her taut nipple was trapped between soft lips while the other was caught by Bellatrix's thumb and forefinger, tweaking it expertly. She knew exactly how to stoke Hermione's heat; strum her body like an instrument that only she could play.
Hiking up the Gryffindor's skirt with her free hand, her digits slid along sodden panties and arousal soaked thighs. She pressed her thumb against Hermione's engorged clit and a wanton moan echoed through the room, Hermione rolling her hips desperately, following the sensation in hopes of coaxing more.
Hermione gripped Bellatrix's hair painfully and tugged, smashing their lips together. "Fuck me," she whined, mouth never leaving Bella's. "Now."
With a sharp twist, Hermione's panties were snapped in two and the cool air on her heated center felt amazing. Groaning brokenly, she grasped Bellatrix's hand and shoved it between her legs. Two fingers were shoved deep inside and she shamelessly rode Bellatrix's hand, the dark witch's arm encircling her waist to keep her upright. The angle was awkward for her wrist, but Bellatrix was so enthralled at the sight of Hermione losing control that she paid no attention to it. She'd never seen such a glorious sight; Hermione, head thrown back, flushed with need and a constant stream of pleas and moans eclipsing the sound of Bellatrix's labored breathing.
Bellatrix curled her fingers and stroked firmly, her own whimper escaping as slick walls clamped down hard. Circling Hermione's clit with her thumb, she watched her lover tumble over the edge into ecstasy. Hermione's head fell forward against Bellatrix's shoulder and writhed uncontrollably as pleasure washed over her and liquid fire rushed through her veins, her teeth sinking into the flesh she found there.
Dragging out the last of Hermione's orgasm, Bellatrix kept Hermione close. Her lover released her burning shoulder but she didn't complain. Knowing she'd sport a bruise was exhilarating.
Freeing her hand, she couldn't help but glide her fingers into her mouth and moaned appreciatively when the taste of something purely Hermione touched her tongue.
Leaning back, Hermione nudged Bellatrix's digits from her mouth and captured her lips in a searing kiss. "Merlin, that was amazing," the younger woman panted. She pressed her forehead to Bellatrix's and sighed blissfully. "I'm so glad to be home."
-X-
Lounging in the summer sun, Hermione was gazing at the grounds of the manor. Narcissa's prized garden was alive with growth and color, flowers swaying in the light breeze. It was the first time she'd come out since she arrived, having been holed up with Bellatrix in their room. For three days they'd tangled themselves in the sheets, alternating between making love, fucking hard, and talking late into the night. Narcissa had sent elves to deliver their meals and Draco found deep enjoyment in banging randomly on their door as he passed.
One Anteoculatia later, he decided that wasn't such a good idea anymore.
Beams of light danced across her face and she tilted her head back, grinning at the twinge of pain that emanated whenever she moved her neck. She had a multitude of bites and bruises littering her body, but Bellatrix seemed particularly dedicated to covering every inch of visible flesh in purpling marks. Her shoulder had prominent teeth marks imprinted just beside the apex of her shoulder and throat, proudly displayed for all to see. Whenever her fingers danced along her shirt, she could still feel the indentions and it flooded her system with arousal and pride.
Who knew she'd like being marked by another?
Embracing the warmth, Hermione lied on her back and sighed. This summer marked a new chapter in her life. Last summer, she was tucked away in a muggle home with two people she was certain were her parents; waiting impatiently for the day to come where she could see her friends and leave that particular world behind.
Just one year had answered a lifetime of questions and changed the world – both for the better and for the worse. No longer was she trapped in unknowns that had once threatened to strangle her. No longer was her world bleak and disparaging.
Now she had a lover who made her heart flutter and her mind swim with possibilities of their future. Now she had friends that she could rely on – that cared about her and expected nothing in return. Now she knew where she'd come from and some vague idea of where she could go from there. Now she had a real family; adopted into a family that genuinely wanted her around and a motherly figure she never realized she needed, a brother who was loyal to a fault and a man who would stand beside her no matter what, and a fatherly man who was more like a cool uncle than a father (she already had one of those). Now…she wasn't alone.
Quite literally.
Draco dropped onto the grass beside her, a mirthful smirk upticking his lips. "My, my, look who finally came up for air." He eyed her purpled skin, but didn't mention it. She was clearly ecstatic to wear them like badges of honor and if she was happy, he was happy.
Hermione arched her brow and returned the smirk. "You have no idea how many times I didn't." She gave an exaggerated wink and he paled.
"Fuck, I didn't need to know that." His face twisted in disgust and he pretended to heave, though he could actually feel bile rising in his throat. "There are certain things a man never needs to know. This is one of those things."
Barking with laughter, Hermione shook her head. "You started it."
He hummed noncommittally. "It's so nice to be out for summer holiday. After those last few days, I can't imagine staying there any longer."
"I can't either," she confessed, her gaze falling to the clouds above. "Sometimes it's hard to remember we're still teenagers. All of the things we've been through have been…" she trailed off thoughtfully.
"…too much for anyone, let alone children," he finished with a nod. "I know. But we're strong and we can do accomplish anything. I am a Malfoy and you are a Riddle; there is nothing we can't do."
"We need more practice," Hermione mused, biting her bottom lip until it stung beneath the pressure. "The Death Eaters let us win those fights but it was still difficult. I cannot imagine what damage they could do if they'd tried."
"You're right," he conceded, exhaling harshly through his nose. "We're lucky that Rodolphus was the only one to ignore orders. If that spell had hit Ginny…" he shuddered noticeably.
"I do have a question though." Draco's brow arched. "Why are we allowed to practice without consequences? Students aren't permitted to use spells outside of school and yet, we dueled throughout of winter break without repercussion."
Chuckling, he patted her shoulder. "I forget you haven't been in this particular world very long. We have power and money, Hermione. It gives us leeway that no others could have. With Father's connections and Mother's bloodline, we are gifted with opportunities most cannot begin to fathom."
"Huh." Hermione had gone so long being looked down upon for being muggleborn that having freedoms was peculiar and often forgotten. Wealth seemed to influence the world – even the Wizarding one – and it made her ill. Why should she be above the law when Ginny's family couldn't? They were of the same status and yet, had Ginny or Ron tried to do the same, they'd get warnings from the Ministry and threats of expulsion. If they were rich, it wouldn't be a problem and that was asinine and wrong in ways she couldn't begin to describe.
Her stomach clenched and her heart thudded sharply in her chest, magic sparking from her fingertips and threatening to consume her; to drown her in rage. It was disturbing and entirely uncalled for so she shoved it aside and focused her attention on the clouds, though the emotions remained.
What the hell is going on?
"Don't think about it," Draco advised kindly, dragging her back into the present. "I know it makes no sense, but we can't change the world – not yet. If your prophecy is right and the Dark Lord wins this war, I have faith that you can fix the problems the Ministry has created. People are judgmental and complacent. If it doesn't affect them, it doesn't matter and they won't care if their laws and prejudices hurt others. People like Fudge only worry about themselves and look where that's gotten us. Magical Creature restrictions that are beyond ridiculous; politicians that would rather line their wallets and pad their pockets instead of doing their jobs and it's fucked up, I know.
"I believe mudbloods are a disgrace to the Wizarding World but even I know that all forms of magical creatures have their place. Centaurs, giants, werewolves – they all serve a purpose. Pretending they shouldn't be here is as much of a disgrace as mudbloods. Witches and wizards aren't the only ones that have rights and feelings, just look at Greyback. If your family reclaims this world, I know we can change it. But for now, we use our privileges and go on."
Hermione blinked. Most of the time, they'd avoided conversations about blood status and magical creatures, so it was a bit startling to hear Draco so passionate about them. He wasn't a bad man; he was simply prejudice. Being born into a pureblooded society, he wasn't given the option to not be. So to see another side of him – compassionate toward magical creatures – was strange and bewildering.
He smiled sheepishly and massaged the back of his neck. "Sorry. I got a bit carried away."
"That's perfectly alright," Hermione assured, eyes widened owlishly. She must have looked comical, but Draco made no remark.
"What are your summer plans?" he inquired when the silence became overbearing.
"Well," she hummed, "I hope to spend time at my mother's home and go through her belongings. I didn't have the chance during winter break to really do anything and now seems like a good opportunity. I want to know more about her and where I came from. There's so much I don't know and Father can only tell me tidbits. She seemed incredible and getting to know who she was might fill the gaps and voids left behind."
Draco's head bobbed in understanding. "I can't imagine not knowing my parents. It must be hard."
Hermione stayed quiet, staring at the puffy white drifting along the sky. She'd always wondered what it'd be like to fly among them – to be as free as the birds and above all of her troubles.
"What do you plan to do?"
Draco paled slightly and he wrung his hands nervously. "O-oh, you know. Meet up with Crabbe and Goyle, spend time with you and my parents and Aunt Bella. The basics, I guess."
Twigs snapped beneath heavy boots before she could reply and Hermione contorted her head awkwardly, peering up at an anxious Greyback.
"Uh, sorry to interrupt, but," he coughed uncomfortably. "Ya might wanna come inside. Bellatrix is on a war path and it ain't pretty."
Suddenly, the feeling of rage simmering in her veins made sense and she was on her feet in seconds, taking off toward the house. She didn't know - nor care - if Draco or Greyback followed. All that mattered was getting to Bellatrix before she leveled the manor with her unbridled fury.
"Those insolent little worms!" Bellatrix's booming voice greeted Hermione as she threw open the door. "I will skin every last one of them alive! To not only disobey the Dark Lord's orders, but to run? They do not deserve to take another breath!"
Greyback gripped Hermione's shoulder before she could chase the sound. "The Lestranges and Yaxley 'ave dis'ppeared. They were angry that the Dark Lord punished Rod for nearly killin' Bellatrix's niece – considerin' He said not to hurt your friends and he was aimin' for the Weasley girl – and they haven't been seen since. The Dark Lord thinks they've gone to their lil' army and instead of just killin' Lucius and Bella, they might be considerin' tryin' to overthrow Him."
Hermione inhaled sharply.
"I will kill all of them! If they dare show their faces again, I will rip them limb from limb!"
"She's in the sittin' room with Narcissa," he said, offering her a sympathetic shrug. "Good luck."
Strolling hurriedly through the manor, she shoved open the door and she gaped at the sight before her. Broken chairs littered the floor, Narcissa's wooden table was smashed in half, there were tears in the walls as though Bellatrix had flung a plethora of spells about, and said woman was pacing furiously in front of Narcissa, who seemed unperturbed by her sister's tantrum. She was settled on the only piece of furniture intact and watching Bellatrix with a composure Hermione could not imagine possessing.
"To threaten me is one thing, but to turn their backs on the Dark Lord? It's unacceptable!" Bellatrix screamed, completely unaware of her lover's arrival.
"Bella, you know as well as I do that Rodolphus cares very little for children. To be reprimanded for targeting one was too much. He does not concern himself with them and he couldn't believe that their lives meant more than his. He's conceited and vain. I am not at all surprised by his actions," Narcissa replied coolly, glancing at Hermione.
Bellatrix's head shook jerkily. "There are plenty of lives worth more than his! A mudblood's has more value than his!"
"You know He only allowed them into his ranks to ensure the Lestrange bloodline carried on. There are few purebloods left in this world and He believed keeping them would strengthen that. Plus, at the time, you were married to him," Narcissa pointed out.
Huffing, Bellatrix leveled a glare at Narcissa before her gaze flickered to Hermione. Her expression softened and her stiffness drained away. She did not want to frighten the Gryffindor. "Hello, love."
Hermione walked over to her, carefully stepping over the debris and nudging the two-legged chair out of her path. "Are you okay?" She stroked Bellatrix's cheek, smiling when the dark witch nuzzled her palm.
"Not really, but you being here helps," Bellatrix admitted, grabbing her hand and pressing a kiss to it. "Why are you here, though? I thought you were roaming the grounds, enjoying the sun."
"Greyback found me and filled me in. He thought I might be able to help calm you." She tucked herself into Bellatrix's arms and kissed her prominent collarbone.
Bellatrix chuckled humorlessly, but held her close. "He isn't wrong, but I had hoped you wouldn't see this."
Tugging back, Hermione peered into her lover's apprehensive eyes. "I want to see all parts of you, Bella, not just the good. You're a Death Eater, right hand of the Dark Lord. You have a good side, but you also have a dark, dangerous side. They are all a part of you and I've always known that." She shrugged. "If we are to be together, I need to see them."
Bellatrix kissed her languidly before resting her forehead against Hermione's. "Okay."
Narcissa cleared her throat. "Is it safe to restore my sitting room now, Bella?" she asked drily, though a playful twinkle in her baby blues softened the bite.
"Yes, Cissy," Bellatrix laughed, her lingering fury dialing back to an irritated boil.
"This is Bellatrix's rage room," Narcissa explained when Hermione glanced between them inquisitively. "She's always been prone to tantrums," Bellatrix stuck her tongue out, "So we designated this room for these moments. She is free to destroy it because it's easy to fix whatever she's broken. Everything in here is replaceable or easily mended." She snapped her fingers and Tinsley appeared. "Restore my furniture to its original state and fix the walls. I expect everything Bellatrix messed up to be taken care of in the next hour."
"Yes ma'am."
Narcissa led the couple from the room, leaving Tinsley to her task. "Why don't you go duel with a few Death Eaters, Bella? Channel your anger into teaching Hermione and Draco. With everything happening in the next year, they'll need to be in top shape. I can send Lucius to join you," she suggested.
"You should practice too, Cissy. You will need to be ready," Bellatrix replied with a meaningful look.
Humming with approval, Narcissa disappeared to search from her husband in lieu of replying.
-X-
Bellatrix bowed, wand pressed to her chest. Her opponent mirrored the action before narrowing their eyes at the Death Eater. Widening their stance, they awaited the typical flurry of spells that were bound to come.
"They're something, aren't they?" Lucius murmured, watching the impending battle curiously. "They're quite a sight; two Black women facing off in a battle of, not only strength, but wit. They know each other better than almost anyone. Growing up together, they're incredibly familiar with the other's style. It's a dance instead of a duel, really." Dolohov and Mulciber nodded, attention glued on the women while Hermione stared on in fascination.
Narcissa was unfazed by Bellatrix's battle cry and stood impassively, subtly shifting onto her back foot. She could feel her husband's appraisal, tracing her curves with a lecherous grin. He always loved to watch her duel and it usually ended with them collapsing into a sweaty heap late into the night.
"Keep it in your pants," Hermione joked, poking the taller man's ribs as his eyes drifted dangerously low.
"Might want to take your own advice," he retorted, chuckling at the blush that spread along Hermione's throat though she didn't try and deny it.
Her lover was hot.
"Gross," Draco gagged, rolling his eyes. He would never admit it but he was a little envious. He desperately craved for what his parents and Hermione had; someone who would love them unconditionally and be there for him, someone he could hold on to at night and feel all the stresses of the world drain away. He wanted the kind of love they had.
Hermione smirked at the youngest Malfoy. "We need to find you a partner, Draco, just so we can tease you over your staring. Maybe Pansy." His eyes widened in horror. "Or maybe Luna." She wagged her eyebrows jokingly, but his response dumbfounded her.
"She's pining over Neville and he's too stupid to realize it," he grumbled absently, glaring at the grass before him. His heart dropped at the jealousy dripping from the blurted words and spared Hermione a quick peek, embarrassment painting his cheeks.
Hermione blinked once. Twice. Her lips parted with a million silent questions but nothing came out, stuck in the back of her throat. "Huh?"
"Drop it," he begged, frantically shaking his head. "Please."
She gaped at the Slytherin, but did as he asked. She shook her head in hopes of clearing her mind, but her thoughts were an flurry of bewilderment and wonder. Wow, I wasn't expecting that. How could I have missed that? We'll definitely need to address this again…
With a cackle, Bellatrix started attacking her sister with an onslaught of dark, powerful spells. She weaved about gracefully, her corset clinging deliciously to her lithe body.
…but later.
Bellatrix bounded closer, her spells slamming into Narcissa's shield and bouncing off aimlessly. She wasn't trying to hit the youngest Black sister, but merely weaken her defense until it shattered into nothing. She was known to be defensive while Bellatrix was incredibly offensive but Narcissa was too predictable – too choreographed.
The moment the shield gave, Bellatrix flung every nonlethal spell in her arsenal at her sister. Jerking out of the way, Narcissa was forced to retaliate before she was hit. Her strength in a fight wasn't as mighty as Bellatrix's, but she was calculating and, often, underestimated. She often fell into a rhythm that Bellatrix found telegraphed, but most paid such little attention to her that it wasn't problematic. Everyone feared the eldest Black, not the youngest.
"Stupefy!" The jet of red flew past her head and she ducked.
"Confringo!"
Bellatrix shrieked in surprise as the hemline of her skirt went up in flames. She hurriedly doused away the fire with a flourish of her wand, pouting at the smoke that rose from the ruined fabric. "Cissy! You burned my skirt!"
Narcissa snickered. "That's for all the times you've destroyed my garden. And the manor. And…"
"Enough," Bellatrix whined childishly, brushing away the singed strings clinging lifelessly to the bottom of her skirt and fighting back the urge to stomp her foot.
"I thought we weren't supposed to get distracted during battle, Bella?" Hermione called out teasingly, crossing her arms. Bellatrix's pout deepened and she did the most mature thing she could think of in that moment.
She stuck her tongue out.
"You'd think she was the teenager here," Draco snorted, his keen gaze observing the entirety of the scene.
While Bellatrix was busy pouting at her lover, he'd noticed his mother eyeing the other witch critically with a mischievous smirk. Narcissa muttered something almost inaudibly, twirling her wand in a way Draco had never seen, and the spectators stared on in amazement as a long black tail sprouted from beneath Bellatrix's scorched garment.
The dark witch's eyes widened incredulously and she cautiously peered down, blanching at the furry appendage.
"Hermione's right, Bellatrix," Narcissa taunted, "You really should stay focused."
Bellatrix glared indignantly, her tail flicking about with each clench of her muscles.
At least it isn't a pig's tail.
-X-
Gentle fingers traced along the smooth expansion of skin presented, nails dragging lightly across prominent bones and an abundant of bites. They mapped out the flesh they'd memorized months ago, committing each dip and new scratch to heart. Finding fresh scars was inevitable when your lover was a Death Eater, but that didn't stop Hermione from fussing.
"What's this one from?" Hermione wondered aloud, brushing a white, thin line marring Bellatrix's quivering throat.
Bellatrix hummed, a little breathless beneath innocuous ministrations and curious hands. It wasn't sexual, but it was so intimate that it stole the very air from her lungs.
"When I was a seventh year, I couldn't stand Lucius. I thought he was a pompous arse and I would do whatever I could to keep him from Cissy. I knew Father wanted to marry her into the Malfoy family and I thought, if I tormented him enough, he'd beg our fathers to call off their engagement before it ever happened. Clearly, I was wrong – on both counts – but younger me wouldn't acknowledge that maybe he wasn't so terrible, so during Defense Against the Dark Arts, I shot a nasty spell at him and it knocked him out cold.
"I was so proud of myself," Bellatrix laughed, "But Cissy… Merlin, she was so pissed at me. In the Slytherin common room, in front of everyone, my third year sister pelted me with whatever textbooks she could get her hands on. Like, she threw them at me - with her hands. I was so surprised that I barely felt the corner of one catch my throat and it managed to break skin. I had no idea it was bleeding until Cissy calmed down and helped me clean it."
Hermione giggled. She could picture it perfectly: furious teenager Narcissa flinging textbooks indignantly at Bellatrix, the latter gaping with astonishment. She could only imagine the dressing down Bellatrix received during the confrontation. It must have been comical, both her lover's expression and Narcissa's ire.
"Can I see that memory sometime?" the younger witch smirked. "I have to see that or I might actually die."
Rolling her eyes, Bellatrix poked Hermione's side. "You're so dramatic."
"Me? Dramatic? Never." Hermione gave an exaggerated bat of her eyes and stuck her bottom lip out. "Why would you say something like that? I'm hurt."
Bellatrix laughed huskily and cupped Hermione's cheek, tilting her head slightly and nipping at the proffered lip. She was quick to sooth the sting away and moaned headily into her lover's open mouth. If her lover wanted the memory, she would give it to her. She would give Hermione anything her heart desired; would bring the world to its knees if she asked.
But later…
Much later.