Thank you! :D
To imperfectionisoverrated- I totally get where you are coming from, and in a perfect HP world, I would agree. But my reasons for taking Bellatrix so out of character is because the character we know, is in fact, not what she is (at least in my warped little piece of JK's world). Her acting as Bella might, I feel would be wrong for this story, only because she isn't what she portrays. But, I love the memory idea and I might actually use that if you don't mind. Of course, all credit would go to you and I hope my OOC Bella isn't too much of a turn off…perhaps, I will throw in a bit of the psycho we all love, just for fun…just to spice things up a bit
P.S you've all been so supportive of my lack of smut…Well, I'm not too good at it but I thought I'd give you a little more detail this time. Enjoy.
Part 4- The Dream
I can't quiet explain it. Standing next to the others- Harry, Ginny and Ron- like nothing ever happened, as if our friends and family hadn't died in a battle worth dying for. I feel as though time has catapulted us backward, but without my consent, without the power of the Time Turner and its promise to return back to our normal place in time. I feel aged and as we stand together, a perverted sort of feeling washes over me; as if it is wrong that I stand amongst children, on the same journey, to the same place. I don't feel right about it. We've lived through, it seems, countless tragedies and returning to school, a place for young people to learn and to grow, feels beneath me. Not that I am better than, but rather that I simply do not belong anymore, that maybe Hogwarts has nothing left to teach. What could it possibly prepare me for that I haven't already experienced firsthand?
The entire family decided to join. Almost the entire family…Molly wipes her tears on a thin, white handkerchief while Arthur looks to us with pride. George looks around awkwardly, hands deep in his pockets; the twins never were right for school. Fleur and Bill stand hand in hand, waiting behind Molly and Arthur, smiling and saying nothing. It is all very picturesque, the way one would imagine it would look. But I can't shake this awful feeling. My hands begin to sweat and the large, red train with its billowing smoke sounds its horn. This is it. Time to board.
We load our things, and with one last hasty goodbye, the four of us step inside. The train lurches and we walk down the familiar hallway, looking for any open compartment. Finally, we see one, somewhere in the middle. We take it and close the door. There isn't much talking between us, I can assume we all feel the same about returning. We know it is necessary, that we are still young and still in need of a proper education but one cannot help feel like it isn't the same. I wonder if we'll see the faces of our surviving friends. The ones we grew up with, fought next to. Did they feel the need to return too?
I watch the world whizz by, meshing into a muddy complexion of greens and browns and blue. The window in the compartment already accumulating condensation from the crisp September morning. I look to my hands, willing the tightness in my chest to go away. With each mile, it gets worse and I know it is because we are so far away from one another.
"Hermione?" Harry says, leaning over his legs. My eyes snap up, looking into bright green eyes, "Did you want anything? Are you hungry?" He asks, standing to meet the grey haired witch with the trolley full of goodies.
"No, I'm fine."
To pass the time, I close my eyes and think of you. I know it was the right choice but in this moment it is greatly regretted. I fall into an unsteady sleep but it is welcomed because I dream of us, and our last night together and I wonder if there might be a smile upon my face.
It was late, we had eaten hours ago and the majority of the house had gone to bed. I was growing tired but fought it, not wanting to waste my time with you on sleep.
"You're tired," you said, smiling. We had decided to stay downstairs, next to the fire; no wonder I was sleepy.
"No," I said, "just thinking about resting my eyes."
I heard a giggle, it was light and feathery, "Well, how should we keep you awake then?" you asked, poking me gently in the side. I lifted my head from its resting spot on the sofa's arm.
"That's a good question…" I responded, flashing you a drowsy smile.
"C'mon, love. I have an idea." You rose from the sofa and walked toward the door.
"What are you doing, Bella? It's late and dark..." I said, sitting up. The warmth of the fire hit my right side. It was so nice, so cozy. I didn't want to leave it to be outside in the cold.
"Just come on, would you? You won't regret it," you teased as you opened the door and stepped out. I sat a moment, in thought, wondering if it would be worth it. Finally, after realizing you were not going to return, I got up and made my way from the comforts of the cottage and into the elements.
It had been a warm summer and even though fall was its way, it was still warm. I was happy to find that I didn't need a jacket. It was so dark, and for a moment, I couldn't see you but then my eyes adjusted and then went exceedingly wide as I realized you were naked, standing ankle deep in the ocean. I looked behind me than ran down the rickety stairs and onto the sand. I ran until I could see the front of the cottage and I looked for the yellow of a light, indicating that there were others awake inside. But there were none, all were asleep and I let out a sigh of relief.
"Bella!" I called in a hoarse whisper, "Come back here, you don't want to be seen!" but you could not hear me. You looked over your shoulder and your shadowed face, I could tell, wore a devilish grin. I let out a sigh but not one of frustration. I was in fact quite anxious at what it was you had planned for us. I walked to you and when I finally met you I extended my arm.
"Bella, come on. What are you doing?" I asked, keeping my feet out of the way of the rising tide.
"The moon is out, love." You said, "It is a special night. For one moment, let go of your reserve. No one will see you…no one save for me…"
It was tempting. Your deliciously naked form, as pale as the moon above us but it felt unnatural- to be outside and without clothes. Nudity was for love making and maintaining hygiene, not for outdoor adventures.
"Hermione…" you taunted, turning toward me. Your full breasts, which sat beautifully on your chest, got the better of me. Before I knew what I was doing, I was already undressing.
"There you go, love," You walked from the water and soundlessly over the sand, to me. It was cold now, without the protection of my clothes. I looked to you as I stood vulnerably in my underwear. Your arms wrapped around my middle and slithered upward, feathering like whispers up my back to my bra. When you had successfully removed that, your fingers hooked under the thin elastic of my panties, sliding them down and over my hips where they too fell silently to the sand.
Obviously, I had been naked with you before. But when we were intertwined in our bed, in the dark, in a soundproof room, I felt safe and comfortable; outside it was different and even though I knew we were alone I couldn't help but feel there were a thousand eyes on me, each one with its own judging opinion of us and our bodies.
I felt your lush lips on mine and it was then that I knew what you really had planned.
"Out here?...Really?" I asked, pulling away, "…But, it's all sandy and cold…" I said mostly to myself. You let out an airy chuckle; it raised goosebumps on my skin. I love your laugh, so full and confident.
"Come then, I'll find a more suitable place." You took my hand and led me down the shore, to that hill, where you stopped under the dense shadow of our tree.
"This better, love?" you asked, pulling me close. But I never did have the opportunity to answer before your lips were on mine again. Usually, our romps consisted of equal participation but this time, I didn't think that would be the case. You were quick to whirl me around, so that my back was pressed against the harsh bark of the tree. You were gentle of course, and I didn't mind; especially, when your teeth began to nibble down the flesh of my neck.
We were far from the ears of another and you knew just what I liked to get the reaction from me that pleased you. I felt your tongue slide up my throat, biting down and sucking. I let my fingers tie into your black mane as you tore at my neck. Is it odd that pain arouses me? For some reason, I find this out of character for my usual day to day self. One would think after years of pain, I'd prefer to stray from such things but it is in you that I find my inner monster. Whether that is a good or bad thing, I am still uncertain.
I let myself go and vocalized all that I found pleasurable. You moved along; your hands holding my waist, keeping steady my shaking legs. Your tongue, one of my favorite parts of your body, licked down my stomach, teasing the flesh above my groin. I let my hands rest on your shoulders, digging in my fingernails. I am sure by the time you've reach me that I had drawn blood. I knew you wouldn't mind, in fact, I was sure you were aching for it.
There was an assortment of noises and to my ears they sounded like a song, a new song; one that had been freshly written and sang raw without care of perfecting the finer details. That's what it is about, right? Love- To be free and willing; to have disregard for rules? To care not of flaw but instead, to find the beauty in it? For all I knew, we sounded like a bad accident but if you really come down to it, we are and I am okay with that.
I let my head fall back against the tree, eyes tightly closed and breathing heavily. I could feel my knees wobbling and I knew it wouldn't be long before I dropped to the ground. You sensed this and removed your mouth from me, standing and moving in closer. It didn't bother me when you kissed me, the delicate taste of me on my lips. But they were soon back on my neck, and I knew at that point I'd have to find a scarf to wear in the morning. You let out a sigh of pleasure as your hand tickled down my thigh and hooked under my knee, bringing my right leg to wrap around your waist. It was all so exciting, liberating, to be in your control, to be outside…the thrill of being caught. It fired me up, more than I like to admit. I let out a soft cry, feeling your fingers find their way to me. I could have kept going, crying out and egging you on but instead, you found you'd rather fill your lungs with them. Your kiss was hard, passionate, needy and I kept your pace as best as could. I was almost numb, numb with the fire that burnt inside. My hands scratched down your porcelain back, leaving red tracks from shoulder to buttock and I could hear the madness in your moan.
At first, your rhythm was smooth, the better to build me up with but when my breaths started to come out short and rushed, you knew it was time to speed up. It didn't take long for my release at that point. I pulled you in tighter, crying out for all to hear. To be honest, at the time, I didn't even realize where I was. The fact that we were outside, at night, mere yards away from the cottage did not even enter my mind. Your smell, the taste of your sweat on my lips, your warm, sweet breath; that was all that filled my senses, for that was all I cared about in that moment.
I was tired. I could have slept away forever under our tree, with only you to keep me warm. But that wasn't an option. When you pulled out of me, kissing me tenderly on the lips, you took my hand and led me back to our pile of clothes on the beach. We dressed silently and made way back into the protection of our home; walking lightly up the stairs and into our room, where we fell exhausted into our bed. We did not stir until a harsh knock came upon our door at the wee hours of the morning. My things had already been packed the day before and I would wash at the last moment. I spent the last few minutes in your arms, listening to your steady heartbeat and trying to ignore the cries of pain from my aching body. But regret it I did not, that much you had assured me…