HP: The Good Side of Black pt 7
After Narcissa said a much more pleasant farewell to her son and the arrangements for Hermione's homeschooling were finalized, the two women returned to the gate and its carriage. For the brunette it was an unusually excruciating walk, as every empty room and dark corridor and even an empty classroom with an all too convenient teacher's desk, called to her with a siren's song. Naturally this was also the the exact time that students streamed around them on their way to their courses.
She almost wished for the Room of Requirement, something with a large comfortable bed and enough time to lay Narcissa down and do more to those perfect hips than just watch ...
"Hermione! Hermione!" She was jerked out of her contemplations by the abrupt call of Luna Lovegood, who came as near to shouting in joy as she ever did. The slim young woman was probably the palest of her friends, had hair so blonde it was near platinum, and she was what one might call... ephemeral … in nature. Hermione seriously wondered, more than once, if she might actually have a little fae in her background.
Then again, her father was a bit of a strange one too.
Narcissa paused, signalling Hermione closer. "A friend of yours?"
Hermione nodded.
"Then we shall take a moment for her."
Hermione offered a tight smile, one which sparked amusement in her mate's eyes. She leaned in closer, a whisper that had the brunette clenching her hands into a fist to keep perspective. "Soon."
Hermione pasted her smile on tighter, turning toward the direction of the call. "Luna!" The girl drew closer and then suddenly smiled.
"Oh! You're not a ghost!"
"My demise has been greatly exaggerated." Luna grinned at her, reaching forward without self-consciousness or a lick of caution. Hermione cast a glance at Narcissa, whose expression did a remarkable impression of being mildly amused and not frothing on any level at the audacity of another touching what was hers.
Not that it would have been about jealousy, per se. It was that she and Cissy were so tuned to the need that was building within them, that the want to soothe was growing exponentially. And anyone else touching for a certain length of time was... well, a little more dangerous than one might suppose. As it was, Hermione imagined that their next coming together was going to be a tad rough. The anticipation stirred sharply within.
Even so, Hermione rendered the hug for a socially acceptable amount of time and then let go. "It's good to see you Luna. How are you holding up?"
The girl promptly withdrew, considered, and said, "Randomly. But there is much entertainment to be had in reading the news of late."
"And how is your father?"
"Recovering from our latest trip still. He finds most dungeons very damp and they cause him aches. He much prefers towers and sunshine."
"Well, so long as he is doing better."
"Oh yes. He is. Will you be returning to school soon?"
"Homeschooling for the foreseeable. I have family obligations." This, oddly enough, was what caused Luna to pay the remotest attention to the woman at her side.
The ephemeral girl studied the older woman for a moment and nodded. "And I see I should not keep you from them longer. Do come back, to see us sometimes, Hermione. Shall I tell the others you were here?"
"If they happen to ask, then please do, but don't put yourself out."
"I never do." Luna smiled and spoke, just before Hermione was able. "And, of course, I shall be pleased to join you for tea. Professor McGonagall will let me know when." Then with a cheerful wave she was off again.
"Curious girl," Narcissa commented, but as if she couldn't help herself, her hand landed briefly on Hermione's arm, fluttering down the sleeve as if wiping off some loose strand. Her blue eyes were just a shade darker and her tone a careful tone and warning.
"But not to be underestimated," Hermione said. She did not lean to the touch, though she wanted to, but she was aware that Cissy had to be seeing the fire in her eyes. "She just comes at the world," she used a hand to demonstrate, "a little sideways. It throws people."
"But not you?" Cissy's hand dropped to her side, and she resumed her normal aristocratic pose.
Hermione shrugged. "I figured her out a long time ago. It's why we get along so well."
Narcissa smiled with abrupt affection. "My very bright Beast." She glanced around and said, "Come, let's go before someone else decides they must verify your state of aliveness."
"I heartily agree.
- HP -
If the walk back was excruciating, the ride was torturous, as once within the carriage Narcissa warned Hermione off with a simple hand motion. It was not offensively given, but it was firm, and the girl was pulled between amusement, pouting without appearing as if she were doing so and a deeply sharpening want all the way through the return to the safe distance of the gatehouse. The ride was absolutely silent as there simply was no safe way to have conversation and not have an erotic consequence.
She was first out again, nearly leaping to the ground, and her hand went out to support her mate on near autopilot. It took everything she had not to jerk Narcissa into her arms and proceed with meeting the inner demand. Cissy chose that moment to speak. "You're doing so well. Hold on. Just a little longer," she soothed her younger lover.
Hermione at near growl did not dare reply.
The blonde did not let go of Hermione's hand, though it had to hurt to some extent, and the reason soon became clear. She apparated, dragging the younger woman along sideways in dizzying teleportation.
Once again they arrived outside gates, but this time, it was outside Malfoy Manor.
"Oh thank Merlin," Hermione gasped out, which garnered an amused and predatory glance from her mate. Narcissa waved her wand and the tall, dark iron gates swung slowly open. Hermione glared at them the whole time, offering a muttered, "Oh sure, take time opening now, why don't you..."
"Hush. Not far now."
Hermione managed a sketchy nod, but she did not feel at her most graceful and kind. She felt raw and needful. Hungry. As they stepped within the gates, and they began closing, Narcissa took her hand again and another apparation dragged her through the aether settling them firmly within the abode and on the floor where their suite dwelled.
"Nicely done," Hermione managed an admiration, which Narcissa merely took as her due. The blonde's expression turned warmly smug, as she dragged the younger woman along the hallway, hands still clasped.
They almost made it.
A black, spikey cloud wafted in front of them and then expanded, revealing the apparated form of one of the Death Eaters.
"Fenrir!" Narcissa's tone bristled, even as she dragged Hermione protectively behind her. "What are you doing here?"
"Tried to chase me away, did you? Think you won't have something to pay for it?"
"I gather Bella has spoken with you, and obviously, like the good henchmen you are, you are disobeying her word. I will remind you that this is my house and she is your leader. You need to go." She made a hand motion behind her back to Hermione.
"It's the Master's den, from what I see. Bella can rot in her crazyland. I may have to follow her now, but I got my own clan to rule. I've come to claim what I brought. Give her to me. I want her."
Narcissa's eyes narrowed at him and then she said, very calmly, "Despite what you think, this is still my home and the Malfoy Manor. It would be well for you and anyone else who may think they have a right to be here to remember that and not test my patience. More, Hermione was never promised to you. In fact, I distinctly remember, your request was denied. Either way, your claim is defunct. Hermione was given to me and is mine. You are too late, and your want has nothing to do with anything."
He snarled then, outraged. Narcissa continued in that same, cool, dangerous tone. "Leave, Fenrir. While you still can."
He laughed, his dark shaggy mane of hair shaking with it. "Oh. Such acting. One would think you were worried for my welfare, when we all know you're just as much a prisoner as the mudblood behind you."
"And yet," Narcissa pointed out logically, "I managed several errands to the outside world. Your beliefs and understanding are flawed. Obviously you are not thinking well. Perhaps your time is coming soon?"
He growled at her.
And then blinked as a growl came right back at him, sharp and deep and surprisingly dangerous; from behind Narcissa.
"Now Beast, Fenrir and I are still talking."
"Please...Please let me..." Hermione said, her voice rough. Narcissa did not look behind her, but she could see Fenrir eyes widen.
"Not yet, Hermione. He gets one pass."
"No passes. Let me see to it that he never bothers you again..."
"No."
"But you told Bella..."
"That you could defend yourself and myself. He hasn't made a real move yet. Have you Fenrir? You were just playing wolf, were you not? Trying to be Alpha, but it's not good to do so now, in my home. My Beast, she doesn't like you."
Fenrir spat, "She's a little girl. You play like she's fearsome and you're just stalling." He stalked forward, teeth showing and his eyes turning a dangerous light.
Narcissa flicked out her wand in a lightning move. He stopped as if startled. "Do not think me defenseless. I have allowed you in this house under the understanding that you honored your allegiance to the Dark Lord and his right hand. It becomes obvious your respect only goes so far. I tell you once more. Leave now."
He outright laughed and then, in a move that was almost too fast to see, bum rushed at Narcissa.
He didn't make it far. He never even got genuinely close.
Narcissa's wand had been aimed, but it was Hermione who was suddenly in front of her, and it was Hermione's whose wand flashed with power from a command silently delivered. And then another one and another and another in quick succession. The process could hardly be seen, but the results...
The werewolf was halted with a brief stun and then a second one hit, as he resisted, trying to and somewhat succeeding in pushing through the first muscle-freezing incantation. The second one held him, however. That was not so unusual, but it was what happened next was, as portions of the iron banister were torn from their natural places and flew toward Fenrir like dark shafts of doom. Then, they altered, their heavy metal surface took on a shiny metal cast in midflight, until every single rail had been transformed to a long piece of silver and flew toward Fenrir. A shouted, "Hermione, No!" erupted. Those silver bars, sharpened and pointed at the end, halted a handful of centimeters from, and encircling in staggered angles, the Werewolf. It was perhaps a good thing he was frozen, as a single step forward, which his body was already poised to take, was a death sentence; and one guaranteed to be a painful exit.
They heard a crackle and pop and then saw the dark apparation that followed.
"I thought I heard a commotion," Bella said easily, striding toward her sister. She seemed taller somehow, her skirts and robe less rumpled, and her hair more in place. She walked past the very still and dangerously entrapped Fenrir without apparently looking at him. She did glance at Hermione, whose glaring focus left no room for a return gaze. Bella smiled and then turned to her sister and kissed her cheek.
Hermione growled, again. Which prompted an exclamation from the dark witch.
"What was that for?" Bella almost sounded hurt. Or maybe it was amused. It was hard to tell at the moment.
Narcissa was blunt. "I'm afraid we waited too long. Her temper is short and touching by others is sparking her a bit. And then this one..." Narcissa used her wand to point at the werewolf, "Decided now was a good time to test everyone's resolve. He admitted that you spoke with him. I am halfway inclined to let Hermione have her way, as I am very put out. Do you need him very much?"
Once again Bellatrix looked at Hermione. She seemed to be holding her cast with very little effort, but at the same time her focus held a grim determination. Bella was hard put to decide whether that determination was resisting the effort to kill or simply anxiously awaiting it. She then turned and looked at Fenrir, finally walking toward him. She paced slowly around him, observing the careful aim of each silver rod. They were all directed toward important functional places of the body. Everywhere except directly to the heart. Hermione meant him to suffer, meant him to live just long enough to feel every excruciating moment of his death.
Bella finally said to her lieutenant, "Well, you seem to have gotten yourself into a fine pickle. I did warn you." His eyes were already wide open, as he couldn't even blink. "Were it not for the fact the Dark Lord needs you, I'd kill you myself for disobeying and trying to strike at my sister. As it is..." Bella's wand snapped out. Her expression went firm. "I do this for your own good. Crucio!"
The were's scream blew through an already open mouth, half articulate, but all pain. It lasted maybe twenty seconds, though Bella could have gone much longer. She had stamina when it came to magic. All of the Blacks did.
But she had more business to attend and could not linger. She released the incantation and then grasped one of the silver rods. "Girl, I need this one. Would you kindly release the others."
The younger woman's nostrils flared, and the snarl on her lips had yet to leave.
"Do as Bella says, Beast."
Hermione dropped her arm, now holding wand to the side, and the silver rods felt to the ground, except for the one in Bellatrix's hand.
"Thank you," Bella said cheerfully, before abruptly launching forward and dragging the silver spike along Fenrir's back; once, twice, thrice. He screamed each time, as she made sure that each cut was deep, through the skin and muscle. He wouldn't die, but he'd feel it. Already the skin on his back was peeling away from the silvered wound and darkening.
Bella let the bloody item drop. "Now, I'm afraid I really was serious that I had some business to attend. I hope you don't mind if I take Fenrir away from all this. Although now he's going to be useless to me for a day or two now."
"Be my guest," Narcissa said drolly. "We will hope he found this experience salutary. After all, we should learn from mistakes and this was a grave one. Oh, I should mention, this was his sole free pass. He is to abide by our previous agreement as I won't stop Hermione next time."
Bella flashed a grin, grasped Fenrir's arm, and then apparated away.
Narcissa looked to Hermione, noting her trembling in silence. Then she glanced at the empty space where the banister had been. "I don't suppose you can put it back for me."
It was a wave of the wand, a spoken repairing incantation, and the banister resettled almost like new; except, a portion of it was silver, and blood dripped from one of the bars.
Well. It would be an object reminder. Useful, for the moment.
"Let's go to our rooms."
- HP -
Their rooms. Narcissa hardly even needed to ask. This time it was Hermione who clasped her hand and all but dragged her. The door opened with a wave of a wand, closed with the same. The blonde wasn't even sure that Hermione was aware that she hadn't said a word. Her focus was so total.
As soon they had privacy, Hermione turned to face Narcissa, that same determined gaze on her face. Her wand was pointed at her mate, but then her arm dropped down. She closed her eyes, still trembling. "Too many clothes, Cissy."
"Let me."
A word and a flick of the wrist and they were both nude before one another. Hermione expelled a breath of relief and opened eyes gone dark with need. She gazed at her mate with an indelicate hunger and then cast her glance about, and suddenly was aware that they had more choices. "The elves have been busy."
"It seemed appropriate." The brunette wasn't the only one staring. The older woman took in the vision of the younger, letting her gaze trail hungrily over the form. She'd seen the furniture of her abode before.
"Cissy... If you don't lead, I will." The blonde shivered at the younger woman's tone. "I need you."
"Then have me." It was taunt and promise and surrender all rolled into one delirious phrase. Hermione struck forward, like a snake, needing no further invitation, and grasped Narcissa to her, bending the taller woman into a soul-searing kiss. Then, as if she'd memorized the layout of the room and still holding her firmly, she bustled the blonde around the room in near dance-like moves. They didn't stop until Cissy felt the back of her legs press against a soft rolled arm of the couch. Hermione still held the wand and she felt it tap and roll with the younger woman's touch, not exactly forgotten, but also, not surrendered yet.
Well, she could see Hermione's point. The bed really was too far away. Perhaps they ought to plan for such days and make a port...
Narcissa was kissed senseless again. Hermione's hands roved her skin hungrily. When the kiss slowed, the younger woman's mouth slid along her jaw and her neck and then she pulled back and redirected the blonde to the seat of the couch.
Well, maybe they didn't need a portkey after all.
"Wand?"
Narcissa grinned, surrendering hers and, while Hermione allowed her free and wasn't looking at her, so she could place their wands on a small table, the blonde settled back more fully. She sat back, letting her legs spread akimbo, putting her feet flat to the floor. She draped her arms across the back of the couch and curled her lips into a smirk, knowing that the deliberate display would provoke Hermione.
She watched with a hungry smile as the younger woman turned back and her expression glazed with desire. Then she nearly laughed with triumph as Hermione pounced, sliding between her legs, kneeling before her without any need for summons. Strong arms hooked around her thighs, partially lifting her, pulling her. One of her legs draped around one of Hermione's shoulders. The younger woman leaned in and gentle fingertips slid along the delicate wet seam of Narcissa's desire. They played in the curls, stroking lightly before sliding in to part her and reveal what Hermione sought. The younger woman licked her lips as she took in the flushed rose before her. She deliberately inhaled, inducing a hum of pleasure. She glanced up at Narcissa, smiled, and then dipped her head, laving her tongue along the silky folds until she arrived at the prominent bud. She groaned with the taste, flicking her tongue in rapid pulses and then swirling it, before dragging it into her mouth and sucking.
Narcissa, keened as she clenched and opened in receptivity, rolling back and thrusting her hips up for closer contact. Hermione tongue drove down then, sliding at the nonverbal command. The brunette's fingertips caressed Cissy, taking over where her talented tongue had been. And then, she was inside, her tongue pressing and dipping, sliding in and out, drinking. She growled her hunger, drank up her mate. Groaned with pleasure and relief.
Narcissa, with her back up against the backrest on the couch, drew her hands to herself, sliding them across her own breasts to soothe powerfully aching nipples, which only stiffened them more. One hand drove down, and she grasped Hermione at the top of her head, threading her fingers through the thick brown hair. It wasn't to guide her. She just needed the contact. Her hips rolled and bucked, pushing with each invasion, each delicious sensation calling forth the deeper pulse of pleasure.
Hermione wasted no time, had no inclination to deny her mate pleasure, in fact, she wanted her to sing out. She had so many needs, but this soothed and thrilled her, redirected that fire. Plus, the extraordinary taste of her mate, the flavor that was just her, spread light through Hermione's veins, heat through her loins. She wanted more, needed it and that more she could feel rising, as Narcissa fluttered around her tongue, clenched her tightly, wrapped her legs around her as if she intended to draw her mate in.
She bent her will to it, summoning her mate up and higher, calling her.
She had been ready, so ready for this, the day had been so long and the need so fierce. Narcissa lit, finally screaming her release, which Hermione drank up and claimed and then spun around again and again. Until Narcissa called her up, begged her to rise and rest. Hermione, however, wasn't exactly interested in rest, but she had always been sensitive to Narcissa's needs. She claimed her mate's lips, warmed them with her own moist response. Drew Narcissa's hips to her own, pressing lightly and just held her for awhile.
- HP -
Narcissa had a few reasons for the nickname she'd bestowed upon Hermione. It wasn't just her adventurousness or her seemingly endless supply of energy once started, but there were aspects to her that had been profoundly adjusted, either through her experience with Bella, her healing by the elves, and-or the bonding. The Lady of the Manor suspected that they had not encountered all of the changes writ in either of them, though both had noticed with some amusement that Hermione had what might be called an enhanced verbal vocabulary. The most instantly noticeable were the fact that she, a magical human girl, growled and she purred; and both had tones that were solely for Narcissa. Hermione could set her alight, make her wet and receptive, with the right sound, at the right time.
Then again, Narcissa, apparently had a similar, if not exactly the same quality of voice for Hermione. Her own tone of voice had taken on a new sultriness, a near siren effect that could pull the younger woman to her or pull her back from the brink. She too had a purr, and it cloaked her words with a heat that sometimes scorched them both.
Hermione was also, well, pain resistant wasn't the word, but when Narcissa scored her back with her fingernails, all it seemed to do was push the younger woman to the edge. She took love bites without so much as a quiver of shock, but rose to them and delivered them back with very careful applications of her teeth. Narcissa thus, had managed to mark Hermione at least twice, blooding her, and all it did was set fire in her eyes and remind Narcissa that she'd better be prepared for the consequences.
Another reason for the name was even more transparent, at least to the one who knew about it, than Hermione's insatiable stamina and her trick voice. It was something that Narcissa found herself delighting in, more and more, and now she wondered if she had indeed missed it, but had gone into denial. Survival made people do funny things. But as Narcissa bent over the desk in the study, palms flat to the surface, legs spread wide with Hermione's hands on her hips, thrusting that wonderful thick staff with gorgeous talent, driving and plunging deep inside, she had to consider, yet again and with profoundest pleasure, that Beast was the most apt description.
That, however, wasn't all. Over the course of their short time together, Narcissa had come to the conclusion that Hermione had to know some form of wandless magic. She certainly used it and to amazing effect. Either that, or the girl had an impossible reach that managed to touch multiple places at once. This aspect became particularly clear earlier when she'd felt caresses at the back of her knees, while Hermione's hands had definitely been in contact with other portions of her anatomy.
Even now, she felt those ghost touches, some firm, some soft, all seductive and hitting the high points. She knew both hands were on her hips, and the girl's feet were where she could see them (when she bent over enough to look), but she felt those same hands tweaking her nipples, caressing her sides, gliding along the sensitive insides of her thighs, and stirring an even sweeter point; making her gasp and quicken. She was frankly amazed, given how stimulating it was, that Hermione had not thought to use it on her while they were out.
Or maybe, she just hadn't realized…
It seemed impossible, but… She felt a particularly fantastic caress and then, distraction disappeared and her rapidly random ability to analyze went completely south and gone. She began to chant Hermione's name, intending to finish the thought, but she found herself in a loop of pleasure, one that rose and rose.
She felt Hermione's lips slide along her back, her shoulders. Narcissa reared back and the kiss extended up, catching the nook between neck and jawline. She heard a fierce whisper, "Mine. Cissy. Mine." It went jagged at the end, torn from Hermione's mouth as the final height was reached. She felt her mate pulse and spill hotly within with a powerful rush and Narcissa clenched and crested as she was filled and filled some more.
The blonde reached behind, looping around Hermione with her arm, even as she pushed herself back against the younger woman with a strength that would have surprised anyone else, but only made her lover happily crazy, "Yes. Hermione. Mine."
The song spiraled through them both, spectacularly, as they claimed each other; knowing the truth of their bond. All of her. Always hers.
- HP -
