Title: Insons Insontis(meaning 'innocent' or 'guiltless' in Latin)
Author: CubisticHen (or Henny to you all)
Email: shesacubistichen(at)gmail(dot)com
Rating: M (or NC-17 not really sure how this is gonna turn out but just to be on the safe side)
Warning: This is likely to be an incest (perhaps bestiality) fic. If you get grossed out by that, turn away now - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! This is also AU and very OOC too. Possible smut in later chapters, I'll have to see what the reviews say before I make any decisions.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and anything relating to the Potter universe are trademarks of Warner Bros. and J.K. Rowling herself. I do not own Hermione (as much as I would love to), I merely write for the need to rid myself of some of the plot bunnies that sneak up on me whilst I'm taken unawares.
A/N: Take a look and let me know what you think of it - R&R please! I can only be as good as constructive criticism and a beta make me! Happy Reading! :)
For as long as she could remember, things had been this way: quid pro quo. He would make her feel good and in return she would make Him feel just as good. Light touches, kisses, innocent gestures as they appeared to many in public held a whole new meaning in reality. After They had died and left her alone with Him it had become this way and she, for one, was not complaining of their little arrangement. Oh no, He was not something she would ever forsake and they both knew it. He was hers, just as she was His, there was not question about it. They had been worthless enough to leave her in this predicament after all. Ah, to be so weak and never awaken from their peaceful slumber. 'How unbecoming, really, to die in such an uneventful manner' she had thought, and the sentiment had remained with her throughout her life.
She lived with him in the Manor that he had acquired after his parents' unfortunate deaths just a few short weeks after the devastating passing on of Them. Sharing a floor, merely because it was convenient to have each other so close to hand in a moment of need. Just as convenient as it was to have rooms next to each other. If anybody questioned them, they would be fed a simple reply of: 'It's to help with the nightmares, after the tragedies of Their deaths, you understand. Helps to have someone quick on hand'. The whole lot proved gullible to a point of idiocy and for this small fact, she was thankful. She wasn't ashamed of their relationship, quite the contrary, how could she be with such fine blood running through them both. What she did fear, however, was that He would be taken away from her and that provided enough motivation to keep their little relations between themselves. The Secret had to be preserved.
Not that she didn't push the limits to the extreme though. If He happened to scoop her up into His arms and sit her on His lap in front of company, she would almost always wriggle around on His lap, seeming to be restless, ticklish or eager to escape His arms (and the straying hands that were attached). More often than not, He would excuse himself, conveniently remembering that there was a 'business call' that just could not wait and the perplexed visitors would be forced to wonder of the enigma that was their host (until a few short minutes ago at least) as they made their way out of the Manor. Oh yes, the 'business calls' were always her doing and mostly a ruse to get rid of the stuffy, boring people, 'friends' they called themselves, who insisted on forcing their presence upon the habitants of the Manor at least once a week, perhaps twice if they were unlucky.
He would take all of the events in His stride of course, the well-bred individual that He was, and by the time the visitors had set foot on the road outside, she would be ready and waiting for Him in the Library. Precisely seven minutes after the 'guests' left, he would stroll in and upon finding her ready, would proceed to 'teach her a lesson' she thoroughly deserved, and enjoyed. Once His needs had been dealt with and hers, to some extent, they would retire to His chambers where she would show Him just how much He really meant to her, skilfully stoking the fire that would rise in His belly until it boiled over and exploded, then taking care of care of her own needs.
They'd become so used to each others company that speech was rendered irrelevant and looks became their new language. One for every type of emotion or expression, speech being demoted to only being used in His chambers or the Library as they became One.
They had a give-take relationship; she had never known any other and for that she thanked the gods daily.
A/N: What did you think? R&R please! I need to know if anybody is actually reading this or if I'm wasting my time? Just a heads up, I'll need a beta too if this is to continue. If you're interested PM or email me, the address is above :)