"What did you do to Bellatrix," Hermione accused her grandmother, raising an eyebrow at the amused laugh the elder Drake let out.
"I simply informed her of how nobles dealt with disobedient mates back in our prime," Herma smirked,"the poor dear didn't take it too well. Not that I think you can't handle her."
Now Bellatrix's muttering made sense. In the more powerful noble households, the woman from the more powerful house was more dominant, and the other became somewhat submissive, depending on the status and personality. When the submissive became too out of control, their mate used several methods of punishment. Most were mild, and used for spouses that were still relatively well behaved, but the most extreme was Branding. It was only reserved for people who were beyond control as a last ditch effort to correct it. It was used mostly on males and rebellious servants.
Spare silver was gathered up from around the house and melted over a fireplace and enchanted with obedience charms, while the spouse was stripped of their shirt to expose their back. Then, a branding iron was dipped into the silver, and pressed into the spouse's back. Usually they were small replicas of their coat of arms, and placed at the base of the neck. More cruel people used bigger branding irons to mark the entire back.
"You terrified her," Hermione scoffed,"she was even paler than she normally is and acted as if she had seen a ghost."
"Oh don't be so dramatic," Herma waved her off,"she'll be fine. But since we're on the subject, I've taken the liberty of moving your wedding ceremony up to this coming Saturday. I've already started the arrangements."
Hermione glared at her,"why would you do such a thing?"
"Traditional Warlock ceremonies happen within 2 weeks of the arrangement. I understand the need for time with their schooling in the way, but now you're being ridiculous. What are you waiting on?"
Hermione frowned, shaking her head,"I...I don't know. I just don't want to overwhelm them, I suppose."
"I was right, you're starting to actually care about them," Herma smiled in amusement,"it's very rare with situations like this. Especially when they seem to return your affection. Nevertheless, we will proceed as planned. You may be the head if House Drake, but I am still your elder."
Hermione sighed, nodding her head in agreement. She didn't have much of a choice, so she took the most logical step, and significantly shortened the time she spent arguing with the elder Drake. Before she could say anything else on the matter, a tailor came in, and quickly started taking her measurements. As she posed and got poked with pins, she glared dryly at her grandmother, who was far too amused by it all.
"I hope you know I'll never do that to you," Hermione spoke directly into Bellatrix's ear, feeling the other woman tense at the intrusion of her personal space.
"Do what," Bellatrix tried to sound casual, but Hermione heard the slight quiver in her voice.
"The Branding," Hermione kissed her exposed neck, smiling at the shiver she felt in response to both her words and the kiss.
They were in the dungeons, where Bellatrix had spent the passed 2 days, after finding out she was to be married in less than a week. She was a mixture of uncertain, and furious that she had no warning or say in the whole thing. She hated feeling out of control, and this was the ultimate form of feeling helpless. She spent the time she had secluded herself casting the most dangerous spells she knew on the mice she found in the lower levels, and reading up on everything she could about what her rights would be as a married woman in Warlock society. She had calmed when she realized that she would be given quite a bit of freedom, and decided she would choose this over marriage to a LeStrange like her parents had originally proposed.
Andromeda hadn't been surprised at all by the change in plan, and has casually explained that she knew how Warlock wedding ceremonies worked, because of her tutoring with Angela. She assumed correctly that the return of Hermione's grandmother would mean that the ceremony would get pushed up, and had prepared herself beforehand. Hermione was impressed and slightly proud of how far she had come when it came to Warlock customs. She was truly turning herself into the perfect queen consort. Hermione had no doubts that Andromeda would be the main one that held court with her, and she knew that if she nurtured her skills, Andromeda could be one of the smartest political players in their society.
Narcissa wasn't too bothered either, she was almost giddy. She struck Hermione as the type to dream about her wedding as a little girl, and now it was actually happening. Hermione felt slightly bad at the fact that it wouldn't be the wedding she had probably imagined as a little girl, but internally, she resolved that should Narcissa ask for the wedding of her dreams one day, she would happily give it to her.
"I won't be able to see you until the day after tomorrow," Hermione tempted,"are you really going to waste our time avoiding my eyes?"
Bellatrix signed, finally turning to face her,"is this what you wanted?"
Hermione smirked, pushing her up against the nearest wall,"it's close enough...for now."
As she watched Bellatrix's eyes get even darker, she was tempted to take her right there, but knew if she did her grandmother would have a fit. Bellatrix had already taken her restoration potion, so anything sexual that they could have done was put on hold until their ceremony in less than 2 days. Letting out a sigh, Hermione moved away from Bellatrix with one last kiss.
"I had an interesting conversation with Andromeda this morning," she began,"it would seem you 3 have always been...close."
Bellatrix smirked at her,"indeed we have. You know how the saying goes: sisters that play together, stay together."
Hermione chuckled at that, and shook her head,"I suppose you're right, my dear."
Love and sexual relationships between siblings wasn't exactly new to her at all. Most noble families had married their heirs to their siblings when the potential suitors were unworthy or they were just selfish. In truth, Hermione would have most likely been married to her sister had she had one, and they were still at war. The same went for Hermione's aunt and mother. Amelia Drake was rebellious and stubborn, and when she married Hermione's father, she was set to be married to her younger sister. Eventually, Fiona Drake married a noble from the house Malloy and had a child of her own.
"Why did you really come down here," Bellatrix asked, snapping Hermione from her inner musings.
"After the ceremony, your true magical potential will be unlocked, triggering the Warlock gene inside of you," Hermione spoke casually,"because the gene is quite strong already due to your blood being pure, you'll need to immediately begin training with my grandmother. Your power now is substantially more than your siblings, and I feel she's the one most suitable to teach you."
Bellatrix looking disturbed about the idea of being anywhere with Hermione's grandmother for any period of time, causing Hermione to chuckle,"she won't harm you, I swear it. I think she likes you, actually."
"Of course she does," Bellatrix grumbled sarcastically.
Before Hermione could speak again, she was being swept away by her grandmother, who was lecturing her on the importance of the pre ceremony rituals she needed to perform. Hermione sighed, casting Bellatrix a glare as the younger women snickered at her predicament. Still, she couldn't help but smile internally at the sound. She was startled to find that she was beginning to genuinely care about the Black sisters. Before, she had only seen it as a marriage of convenience, but now she realized it could be so much more.
With a sigh, Hermione slowly eased into the scorching tub of potion her grandmother had prepared for her. The Drake line used a very potent fertility ritual during the wedding ceremony, but before hand, a body modifying potion had to be applied to her before the ceremony. There were several methods of getting her spouse to bare her children, but Drakes traditionally used body modification, to both impregnate and to strengthen the chances of conception. It was believed by Hermione's elders that the loss of their spouse's virginity during the ritual strengthens the magic used. Hermione chose not to argue with that logic, since it went without saying that that was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard. For the passed 2 thousand years, the ritual was still preformed the same way the elders did it, despite the inaccuracy of the claims behind it. It was more about tradition than anything else.
As Hermione soaked in the milky blue potion, Herma Drake poured in several ingredients, while chanting under her breath. Closing her eyes, Hermione tried to ignore the constant, shooting pain that was nagging at her lower body. It started out as a slight tingle, then slowly it tuned into a sharp pain. It progressively got worse, as the potion grew hotter. Clenching her jaw, Hermione braced herself for the pain of the changes to her body. For 2 hours, she sat in the milky blue potion, her mind trying to ignore the pain. When she began to doze off, the potion began to turn a deep blood red. Herma watched it, and gently shook Hermione. Looking up at her grandmother, she accepted the offered hand as she eased her body out of the water. With a wince, she glanced down at her new body.
At first glance, nothing had really changed, until you looked at her lower body. Glancing at the foreign appendage, she let out a sigh. This was going to take some getting used to, but thankfully it wouldn't always be there. Technically, it was now a part of her body, but after a week, it would fade and her original physical body would be back. She would have to perform a spell to summon it again, but thankfully there would be no painful soaking in a potion that smelled horrible.
She used the last of her energy to make it to her room, with her grandmother's help. That potion had drained her, and she could barely walk. Making it to the bed, she groaned when she was forced to roll onto her back, having forgotten about the new equipment she had acquired. Even in her mind, she refused to accept that it was, in fact real, thus, she wouldn't call it what it was. Vaguely, she acknowledged that she was being ridiculous, and it was probably because her mind wasn't quite all there, considering she was out of it at this point. She hoped this side effect would wear off soon.
"Rest up, Hermione. I'll see you tomorrow, and try not to be too distracted by your new...addition," Herma chuckled, slipping from the room.
Hermione grumbled her goodbye, and slipped into a deep sleep. She slept until around 6, the next morning. Her internal clock never let her sleep passed a certain time, so she didn't even grumble as she got up. Immediately, she realized that something was very wrong. Glancing at her lap, she spotted the tent under her covers, and glared at it, as if it had offended her.
"I'll never get used to this," she grumbled, flopping back onto her back, she let out a huff.
She knew a spell that could easily fix her not so little problem, but something stopped her. She would never admit it out loud, but she was curious. Glancing under the covers, she studied the appendage, raising an eyebrow.
"So this is what all the fuss is about," she mused,"honestly, men are just idiots."
She couldn't understand how men could be so controlled by something so unimportant. Still, pure curiosity forced her to tentatively reach down, and touch it. Initially, she wasn't assaulted with the pleasure she had heard men describe in pubs while getting drunk with friends, but she just assumed that it took a second for it to really get to that point. After a few seconds of skepticism, she gripped the shaft, her eyes widening slightly at the new sensation. Letting out the breath she didn't know she was holding, she began to stroke the shaft. Her head fell back, and her breathing picked up. Now, she was beginning to see how someone would enjoy this but she didn't think it was as amazing as some claimed.
Before she could really even get too worked up, there was a loud knock at her door. Hazel eyes flew open, and Hermione looked at the door. Quickly muttering under her breath, she sighed as her erection went away, and clothes appeared on her nearly naked body. Pulling open the door, she glared at her father, who was watching her knowingly.
"Good morning,Hermione," Henry smiled,"are you ready for your final fitting? Herma is waiting for you."
Without responding, she moved towards the guest room, where she would be getting her ceremony robes finished, while more than likely being forced to drink some potion or another. At this point, she didn't even bother asking what the potion was for. She just hoped it wasn't as painful as the last.