Tell Me Your Secrets
Author: Ladyfun
Rating: M. Why? Because.
Summary: Hermione and Fleur, in the post-war world, find themselves in the unsettling role of colleagues with more than a bit of lingering and forbidden attraction towards one another, despite their obligations to others. One fateful evening, courtesy of the firewhiskey, they admit their repressed secrets and darkest desires, to one another. Problem is, one can't unring a bell, once rung...nor the actions that follow. Angsty Fleurmione!
Disclaimers: I don't own Harry Potter or any of its merchandising- all of this is in wholesome, non-profit fun. Ownership belongs to JK Rowling as everyone in the free world is aware. Will have some kinks in later chapters, disclaimers forthcoming as needed...
A/N: NSFW...close your browser at work, you've been warned! The usual... lactation/Veela beastiality kinks.
NOTE: This is a repost -a revised chapter after a friend/Beta pointed out the bajillion errors- sorry for the (literally) 43,000+ views prior to this that read this (color me embarrassed). I feel like I should buy you all Smoothies or something. Whoops.
Chapter 14. No More Lies
Everywhere.
The feelings that she presently felt, were driven solely by carnal motivations, and were almost too much to for the typically intellectually driven woman to bear. For Hermione, making love to Fleur-the-Veela could only described as intense...frightening...
...stimulating...
...but above all else, life changing.
When Fleur-the-Veela first entered her, after the initial flush of excruciating pain (despite slathering on a generous dose of 'Harry's secret weapon,'), she willed her body to relax and stop panicking.
It did, and the rest of her did, as well.
Then, she allowed herself to feel. It was unlike anything she had ever known, before. She realized it was such a deep, physical and spiritual need between them, she and Bob; the drive of their primal instinct and the ingrained bond between them. It was simply physical closure to what had been destined forever. Hermione felt it in her heart, just as much as she felt it as the "hot mess" between her legs.
But make no mistake...she felt it there. She felt it there, and everywhere else. She felt her mate on top of her leaning in across her torso; her heavy breath on her neck; her rough tongue on her cheek, face, neck, and flanks...but most of all, she felt it when she felt her mate filling her, deep inside.
Fleur's girth was utterly astounding, and Hermione was still shocked she didn't faint from the initial pain. What was unexpected to her was that she almost fainted from the intense subsequent pleasure that filled her, moments later.
Fleur was grinding, hard, into her center, to seed...Hermione gasped. Her body was rocking with the force of Fleur's thrusts. It was just everything, everywhere. It was all at once, and sudden. Her body felt completely different than it did when making love with Fleur-the-human. What passed between them now, was so intense, so deep, so primal... so filling!
As she felt her third orgasm approaching, the Veela bit her, on the neck, unexpectedly, to emphasize her point. Naturally it shocked Hermione; but it wasn't unpleasant. Yes, it did hurt; and yes, she could tell that she was bleeding. However, it was hardly the mauling that had been forewarned by Veela lore. It was almost...romantic, in a fashion. Hermione recognized it for exactly what it was; a beast marking its mate.
The Veela growled, above her, declaring, "You are mine, Hermione, only mine... do you understand that?" Fleur demanded, as she continued to ram hard, thrusting deep into Hermione's core.
"I...ungh...Yes! Ohhh...so good...I. Um, yours, only yours...your mate. Oh, fuck..."
The Golden Girl was unable to think or utter any intelligible speech, at this point. The sheer girth of the Veela, as it barreled into her core, was undoing the human it impaled. Fleur-the-Veela, by virtue of her size, reached deep into Hermione in a manner no previous lover had done...including Fleur-the-human. Fleur had been going tentatively, at first; she no longer felt as gentrified towards her human mate. No, now the Veela within felt liberated and authentic; now the Veela was bold. They were no longer strangers, and as such, the lovers moved towards demanding more from one another.
Their first orgasm had been pleasant; albeit rather...polite. It was the type of sex meant not to offend.
Their second attempt was better. Quite frankly, Hermione was over her initial shock at the sensation of being entered by someone so well endowed. Time two was quite honestly... better... as Hermione's opening had been somewhat stretched out, rather extensively. Plus, the novelty and shock of the onslaught between her legs by Fleur's endowed state had worn off.
The third time, however, was when they finally lost their formality. They finally became who they were meant to be, to each other.
Mates. Mates, for life.
The Veela had hungered for the pixieish brunette forever...years, since the first glimpse of Hermione in her awkward 4th year. The young Gryffindor was everything the Veela ever wanted...hungered for...and now, she was finally here.
She was underneath the Veela, and neither were adolescents, any longer.
Now, in fact, the Veela was entering its virile prime. Fleur was now an adult Veela, and she was fully enraptured by the smell of her fertile bride, and lost in the tactile sensation of HER. Fleur was mesmerized by Hermione's wetness, and her obvious arousal. Fleur was possessed, fully, by the desire to pleasure Hermione to the fullest extent possible...and possessed with the desire to impregnate Hermione.
Fleur wanted nothing more than to fulfill her destiny. Their destiny.
Previously forbidden, the heavenly skies had now opened to the previously despairing Veela, and seemingly offering her the kingdom. Fleur was going to savor it. Relish it. Demand it. Her claws gripped the shoulders of her tiny human, holding her firmly in place. Fleur-the-Veela let out a low growl, as her member, lined up at Hermione's entrance. Her penis was still erect- probably permanently, Fleur thought offhandedly, despite having emptied into her mate twice prior. Hermione caused such arousal in her, she never wanted to stop. Plus, Hermione was just so fucking tight, it made Fleur breathless with the pleasure of Hermione's core clamping down on her shaft.
Fleur looked down, meaningfully, at her mate, who gave her a dazed smile in return. Thrusting forward, hard, Fleur let out a guttural moan to the skies...it was the deepest thrust yet. So good, Fleur gasped, aloud. Hermione abstractly realized how different this was from making love to Fleur-the-Human. What they were doing? It was primal, really. What they were engaging in now, was sex at the most base of levels. The desperate thrusts, the wanton moans and pleas for "deeper" and "harder" and "fuck me" were the instinctual calls between the creature and its human mate trying to answer their destiny.
As Fleur thrust herself deeper and farther than she had before into Hermione, in their previous two runs, she reduced the tiny brunette beneath her to gurgling out abstract and wanton moans. Hermione's eyes were unfocused, rolling to the back of her head. Her bangs were matted, pasted down by sweat on her forehead, as she was overcome with the sensation of Fleur.
The Veela discovered a space Hermione herself did not even know she possessed. A rough patch, back deep within her core, deeply recessed near her Os. When the Veela bucked hard into it, the deep friction caused the typically reserved "good girl" to buck and whine and beg, and claw at her Avian mate.
Desperate and clawing, it would appear to an outside observer that it was the human mate mauling the Veela...and not the other way around!
Make no mistake: Fleur was driven by nothing but instinct, at this moment. The Veela was driven by one overriding feeling only at this moment: the drive to impregnate her mate.
To own her mate.
To repel any possible additional suitors, and to ensure the survival of her family line, and her species.
Driving into Hermiones opening, watching her writhe with pleasure underneath her, The Veela finally felt complete. Everywhere. The session was becoming more heated as it became more desperate. Their sex was needy. Hermione's hands were everywhere, while Fleur's talons dug into Hermione's shoulders, as she bucked deeper into her. Hermione felt Fleur everywhere, all at once.
Hermione screamed, out loud, this time. "Oh, Fuck...Fleur, I'm coming!" Yelled Hermione, her voice raspy. "Bloody hell! It's so good...it's so good! Oh, Gods, don't stop..." She threw her head backwards and let out a cry as she gripped the powerful flank muscles of Fleur's avian torso. "The best one yet...oh, fuck!"
Fleurs wings spread, unexpectedly, as she felt her release hit.
Hermione...Hermione...Hermione...The Veela chanted, like some crazed sex mantra. Then she felt, for the first time, her member begin to swell, at its base. Fleur began to panic.
Oh, no! The Veela thought, worried. Oh, Hermione...this will hurt! Oh, Little Mia...I'm so sorry!
The burning pain hit, suddenly, at her opening. Hermione screamed in pain, as Fleur began to knot within her walls. Fleur instinctively began to lick her cheeks and neck, encasing her with her wings. If the human's channel felt tight before, this was absolute bondage. She was so firmly entrenched and stuck within Hermione's tender walls, her knot preventing either from moving. With a grunt, Fleur tilted Hermione backwards, to let gravity do it work, and lessen the physics somewhat, as to palliate the pain.
The brunette was sweating and trembling, but still. She began to pale, and was wimpering, slightly.
The Veela looked terrified. Oh my god, my precious Hermone...I didn't know... The Veela licked her cheek. I didn't know I would knot, like some animal! Oh ma chou, are you okay? Sil vous plait...Please! Say something ..!
Hermione communicated after a moment, wincing as if the the mere act of talking was excruciating. She opted for their non verbal communication, hoping to minimize the pain.
I knew, Fleur. I knew when it was "the time," you would knot in me. Hermione laughed, woefully, and continued. I've been experimenting with this for five months,remember? I was expecting a 4th degree tear - thank god it didn't happen.
Fleur-the-Veela said nothing at first, trying to stay still, and licking her mate, for comfort. Hermione...I think you're bleeding. I may have torn you a bit, down below..Merde! A deep sorrow reflected in the horrified gaze of the Veela.
Hermione remained still.
"Ma belle...please...are you hurt?" Fleur spoke out loud.
"Oh, it hurts! Make no mistake, it hurts... a lot!" Hermione croaked. She licked her chapped lips. "But, worse is..." She licked her dry lips, again. "Worse, is its torture, because it feels... so fucking good!" She laughed, tensely. "Fuck! I feel your seed in me, your knot wedged in my walls, and every little movement is arousing me!"
Fleur looked shocked.
Hermione winced. "Oh, Fuck, Fleur...fuccccck! I'm so close to coming, again..."
As Fleur gasped at Hermiones confession, that faint movement from her gasp was enough to finally tip the human over the edge.
"Oh fuck! Fleur! Ohhhhh..."
XOXOXOXOXO
Hermione continued to research, and soon realized the influence of breast feeding her mate was probably not helping her fertility, so they decided to limit their nursing sessions, restricting them to once in the morning, and once before bedtime. There would be an occasional "as needed" session during the day if one or the other was feeling particularly needy-but that was happening less and less these days.
Frankly, It was fairly impossible for them to "feel needy" for each other anymore, with the sheer volume of the ways in which their needs were being met, in both frequency and intensity.
Bob, as expected, was hardly content to sit on the sidelines, and be regulated to limiting time with Hermione - copulating a mere once a week was simply not acceptable to the virile Veela. Fleur-the-Veela negotiated with Fleur-the-human, and they finally came to an impasse. They agreed to twice a week on Wednesdays and Sundays. While the Veela wanted more of Hermione, even Bob agreed it would be unlikely Hermione's body could handle more than that. Those parameters should have been acceptable, if not for one thing.
Fleur the human. As it turned out, Fleur-the-human's appetite for her mate, and her need for sex with Hermione, had also intensified.
The blonde Frenchwoman had become positively insatiable since the initial Veela sex attack. It was as though the human underwent a "rebirth" and became somehow vitalized by the Veela's awakening, and vice versa with the human to its innate beast. They both became addicts, frankly.
Most shocking, Hermione seemed able to handle the ardor of her spouse, in every form.
The brightest witch of her era chuckled to herself. Hermione...insatiable? She would muse. It seem impossible, earlier in her life. Hermione found herself wondering if it was possibly to die from too much pleasure. She contemplated, half seriously, if one could possibly die from sensory overload. The girl who had lived her life so closed off and reserved, driven by the quest for knowledge was reduced to a creature driven by lust and passion. No longer was she guided by her famous brain, but rather, by the sensations and needs dictated between her legs.
That realization was disconcerting for Hermione on her best day.
After nearly six weeks of this, frankly, her body was revolting on her, in general. She wasn't sleeping, she was constantly eating, her metabolism was so amped up from constant arousal and the demands for sex. Her breasts were engorged, refusing to down-regulate, despite their rigid adherence to the limited schedule. Her lactation had long ago caused Hermione cease menstruating at the beginning of term, when they started to adult nurse; now she would occasionally spot. Worse, she was getting weird blemishes everywhere.
Although some of the blemishes, in fact, were frequent bruises and bites, she had to admit...from either her human or her creature spouse; at this point, she could no longer distinguish who gave her the mark.
She felt like she looked crazy, but Fleur constantly reassured her she looked hot. Or sexy. Or hot and sexy, usually before she fucked her.
What Hermione did know, is that she would not be able to go at this pace forever. For the first time she could honestly say she really didn't give a shit about her professional life, and that disturbed her.
Roughly two months before the end of term, Fleur won the "favorite professor" award from the student body. Not that Fleur wasn't deserving; she was an excellent teacher. It's just that the honor should have been bestowed as Hermione's award, had she brought her "A Game" to the table. Fleur would be the first to admit there wouldn't have even been a contest between the Golden Girl and the next closest competitor. She lived for education, after all.
Ironic. The "Brightest Witch of Her Era", the penultimate academician, had been ousted in the final hour -albeit by a worthy candidate, but one who nonetheless was far more interested in getting into Hermione's privates than getting into the minds of her students...unlike Hermione. In the final analysis, as good as a professor as Fleur Delacour-Granger actually was, everyone knew it wasn't her currency. School hours were merely an annoying way to pass the time until she could reasonably get with her mate again, in private.
Then the strange thing occurred, with less than 1 month left in the term; Fleur's sex drive seem to calm down. Hermione was finally able to sleep again. Fleur resumed her status, once again, of being the charming and protective girl she was when they were courting, and they became more like when they were best friends in the beginning. They were seen laughing together, and didn't seem so...primal. Her scheduled flying sessions with Bob became that again- flying sessions; although Bob would tend to fly simple routes, and never veer too far from Hogwarts perimeter, despite the constant hackling from Hermione that Fleur the Veela was getting conservative in her old age.
But it did give Hermione the opportunity to remember why she fell in love with the overprotective and constantly doting Veela, as well.
Life became somewhat normal, again, much to the relieve of the Headmistress. Thank God Hermione's intellectual capacity had finally been returned to her, for she would need it: With a mere one week left of school, as the professors sat at the head table talking amongst themselves, comparing notes for summer break, something startling would occur.
XOXOXOXOX
They were chatting animatedly at the head table.
Minerva was effusive in her praise. "Fleur, your skin - you've looked absolutely radiant ever since, well, roughly February onward of this year. What's your secret, dear?"
Fleur glowed.
"Mmmm- sank you, 'eadmistress." The blonde said, demurely. "I 'ave been... experimenting wiz various zings in my diet."
She winked at Hermione, causing her to blush.
Headmistress McGonnigall nodded approvingly. "Well, whatever you do, keep it up, dear girl! It's doing wonders for your complexion."
"Oh, bien sur, I intend to..." She said with a evil grin.
Hermione couldnt blush harder if she tried. Worse, Fleur's devilish look made her nipples tingle. Fortunately she was resuced from the great embarrassment, soon to become worsening embarrassment foreshadowed by Hagrid's excited cry.
"Blimey! I don't believe me eyes! It's a short-toed eagle! Two of 'em!" He pointed skyward.
Hermione was amazed at the majestic creatures, fierce in their flight, as was the rest of the student body in the great Hall, until she saw the look of horror on her spouses' face. She asked in a low voice, "Fleur, what is it? What's the matter?"
The color drained out of the French professor's face and her voice trembled, slightly. "Mon Dieu! It is ze Circaete Jean-le-Blanc, 'ermione..." She gulped. "Zis is...not good."
"What are those?" Hermione said, still confused.
In a matter of fact voice, Fleur replied. "Zey are... ze birds of prey, belonging only to ze Veela council."
As if on cue, the regal birds swooped in circles, to awed gasps. Flying overhead, they dive bombed, and landed directly in from of both Hermione and Fleur, respectively. They dropped a identical scroll of parchment in front of the two startled witches, then immediately retreated, exiting the Hogwarts grounds with purpose, leaving the student's mouths agape.
Hermione and Fleur looked at each other, and unrolled the parchment simultaneously:
THE VEELA COUNCIL WILL MEET- Full Session
20:00 Saturday p.m.- second full moon.
Sacred Grounds
Your Attendance Is Required
Hermione startled, as the scroll immediately caught flames, unexpectedly, and self- combusted in her hands. She dropped it just in time before she was burned, causing the nearby onlookers to scream.
Hermione spoke quickly. "That's this Saturday, Fleur! I've heard about this...oh my God, Fleur..."
Fleur looked around, pensive, at the other faculty staring at them. Looking at the ashes in front of her own charred command summons, she muttered, "Bordel de merde..." under her breath. The other faculty that spoke French raised their eyebrows.
Minerva reached over, grasping Hermione's wrist, and whispered, "Professor Del-um, Hermione, dear...is everything alright, ladies?"
"Non." Fleur said definitively. "Everyzing is not..alright."
Hermione looked up at the eyes full of concern. The Gryffindor, shaking slightly, gave her former head of house a terrified look, right before she promptly threw up on the spot.
TBC.
Love these two, I do.