Murder Most Horrid
Chapter 35: Coming Home
The Granger residence was a lovely and stately two-story detached townhouse with four bedrooms and a garage. Being dentists in the Muggle world certainly earned plenty of money to be able to afford such a nice house. Clearly, it wasn't a mansion, but the Grangers certainly had done well for themselves. Hermione, for one, was quite excited to be staying here for a while.
Charlotte was most impressed with the idea that the house had three bathrooms. The first thing she did once inside the Granger residence was to run up and down the house to flush all the toilets.
Though Bellatrix had visited there a few times before, Hermione had still felt the need to 'sell' Hampstead Gardens to her. How this quiet little London suburb was just a stone's throw away from the inner city of London, was busy, but not too busy. How there's parks nearby for much needed greenery. How everything was within reach. Not that Bellatrix needed much convincing; if she'd have to stay in the Muggle world, she'd rather do it in a place which was somewhat familiar to her. In her hands was an enchanted suitcase with enough clothes to last all three of them for plenty of time.
In truth she had to admit she did rather the place. Heathgate street certainly looked pleasant enough with plenty of green and the occasional tree. Shame about all the smelly Muggles mucking up the perfect scenery, though.
Wearing the warmest smile a father could possibly manage, Jack Granger came out of the living room and happily embraced his daughter. "Hermione, it's so wonderful to see you again."
"Dad," Hermione returned the hug.
"Though the circumstances are less than pleasant, I'm so happy to have you living with us again," Bellatrix heard him say while he peered over his daughter's shoulder. "Hello Bella. I hope you are well."
His greeting was warm and well-meant, to which Bellatrix offered a slight smile and a polite nod. The dark witch had to admit she felt a touch of unexpected jealousy seeing Jack fuss over his daughter before she pushed it back into her mind. That damn letter from her own father was burning enough of a hole in her coat pocket already.
"Where's mum?" Hermione asked.
"At Jane and Kenny's house next door," said Jack. "She'll be back at any moment."
Just then, Charlotte came rushing down the stairs from her quest to flush all the toilets in house. The little girl stopped in front of Jack, looked at him and extended her hand in an exaggerated fashion. "Hi," she greeted.
Jack smiled, bent down to one knee and took her hand. "And you must be Charlotte. Hermione has told me so much about you."
"Oh?" the girl looked slightly worried, to which Bellatrix rolled her eyes.
"I take it the three of you've already eaten, considering the time of day?" Jack said.
Hermione nodded. "We've had a bite to eat in Diagon Alley before coming here."
"Well, in that case, let's get you settled in, then," said Jack. "I figured it'd be best to put Charlotte in your old room, Hermione. You and Bella can use the guestroom. It has a double bed and I'm guessing you like to sleep together."
That off-hand comment made Bellatrix's eyebrows shoot up into her hairline.
Immediately, Jack realized his faux-pas and blushed bright red. "I mean, uhm, sleep in the same bed..."
Hermione chuckled briefly. "We are a couple, dad. We have been for four years. It's perfectly alright to acknowledge the intimacy which comes with that."
The dark witch shook her head; her pet had just made any further conversation between her and her father completely awkward for the rest of the day.
As soon as Hermione's mother returned from the neighbors, everybody moved into the living room where Hermione's parents sat on the sofa while Bellatrix and the young witch had taken the loveseat opposite to them. Charlotte, of course, had run off somewhere doing whatever.
Around them, the orange demon Crookshanks, now released from the cat carrier, was walking around looking for what had changed since he'd last been at the house. Their other pet, the eagle owl Horus, had been released outside to fly around the while being essentially off-duty until Bellatrix or Hermione wanted a letter delivered.
The Granger living room reflected a family which was quite house-proud. The living room and, by extension, the entire house was devoid of any spec of dust. The furniture was well-maintained and the room was well-lit through the bay window looking out onto the street. The room was dominated by still pictures of Hermione taken at all ages, though her pet didn't like it whenever Bellatrix's eyes lingered too much on an embarrassing photograph of her sitting in a baby chair after having just thrown her food all over the table in a tantrum.
The oddest thing was that there was a picture of her as well. Alright, it was a picture of her and Hermione in front of Rosewood Cottage, but it was still... uncomfortable. The young witch had told her that her parents considered her part of the family now, but to think that a photograph of her was displayed on the mantlepiece in a Muggle home was just strange beyond belief.
Hermione had told her parents all about what had been happening to them in the recent months, but she could imagine they'd still have plenty of questions.
"Let's start at the most important question," asked Jack. "Just how dangerous is this man?"
Bellatrix nodded. A fair question. They'd be staying at their house, after all. At the same time, however, she didn't want to worry Jack and Emma too much. "Very," Bellatrix admitted. "He's a known murderer who doesn't discriminate. Two days ago, he attacked a member of my family at, what we thought was, a secure location."
"Is Hermione in any danger?" Emma asked.
'Acutely', Bellatrix thought, but when she was about to answer, Hermione jumped in. "No, mum," Hermione replied. An obvious lie. "He's after Charlotte and... I think Belle too. But we should be fine."
"We won't turn away family in need, but with all due respect," said Jack. "What protection could we and our house offer which the Wizarding world couldn't?"
Another fair question. One the dark witch would address. "All the experts we spoke to confirmed that werewolves have trouble with urban areas, and London is as urban an area as they come. They have a sense of smell that is better than that of a normal human, but still not comparable to, say, that of a dog. There's too many smells in London. Creed wouldn't be able to distinguish enough to find us."
Hermione broke in. "We'll be protecting the house with all manner of charms and spells to prevent him from ever finding us through magical means. Belle has already made all of us untrackable, including the both of you. We'll be placing wards to protect against unauthorized entry and, if need be, we'll be able to make the entire house disappear off the face of the Earth."
"Nobody knows where we are staying except for a few people at the auror office and my sisters," added Bellatrix. "Once connected, your fireplace will only floo to an unplottable classified auror safehouse. From there, we can floo to anywhere on the network. As you can tell, we're not taking any chances."
"Hermione," Jack started. "We're in the book."
Hermione turned to Bellatrix with a smirk on her face. "Belle? What's 'the book'?"
Bellatrix frowned in response. "It's, uhm, a stack of papers with a leather-bound cover wrapped around it?"
"I rest my case," Hermione smirked. "Creed is your typical pure-blood wizard with no idea how the rest of the world works. Even if he did manage to find out how to work the book, there's so many Grangers living in London... Well, I am certain we'll be perfectly safe."
Bellatrix scraped her throat. "We don't need to worry about him paying a wizard to find us for him either. I know how the wizarding underworld ticks; they really don't like the kind of attention Creed is garnering and there are stiff penalties for dealing with a known murderer like Creed. In fact, they're more likely to try to turn him in for the reward money. Honor among thieves is not inclusive to child-murderers."
"Alright," said Emma. "We trust your judgment and you're all very welcome to stay with is. Is there anything you need when you're here?"
"A bottle or two of Cola would be nice," Bellatrix said, just before shooting her pet a glare. "Hermione won't bring any for me anymore."
Hermione didn't miss a beat. "That's because you'd brush your teeth with it given half the chance! You keep drinking that stuff, and you'll be so round you won't be able to get through the door! The only reason why our larder isn't overstocked with cola bottles is because you don't want to be found dead at Tesco's."
"That place is hell!" Bellatrix snapped. "Endless amounts of overweight hapless Muggles strolling about a giant building looking for food with a vacant expression on their face, often with their brood in tow! And that horrible, horrible music!" She'd been there once, never again. The dark witch had to shudder at the mere memory alone.
Emma snickered. "On that we can agree. Hell on Earth is Tesco's on a Saturday afternoon. I'll bring you a bottle next time I go there. Just remember to brush properly. Cola is very bad for the teeth."
Bellatrix shot her irate girlfriend a self-satisfied smirk. "A room where both of us can work would be helpful," Bellatrix added before Hermione could say anything.
"I can do most of my work for the Department at home," explained Hermione. That was understatement, Bellatrix thought. Hermione had been able to keep on handing her work reports on a regular schedule despite all which had happened the past weeks. "And I'm sure Belle would like a place do to work if need be."
"You can use the study," said Jack with an uneasy expression on his face. "We hardly ever use it anyway."
"Dad?" Hermione asked with some concern on her voice. "What's wrong?"
Jack rubbed his chin, his eyes refusing to meet theirs. "All this talk about werewolves. It sounds outlandish to me. Next thing you'll be telling me vampires are real too."
Hermione and Bellatrix shared a look. "Welllll..." Hermione started.
"I've had some... first-hand experiences with a vampire," Bellatrix instinctively rubbed her neck. "I still bear the puncture scars if you look close enough."
Jack sighed. "Frankenstein?" he asked.
"That one is fictional, dad."
"And thank god for that," Jack sighed in relief, causing the dark witch to chuckle. Bellatrix liked Jack. He was very rational man, preferring to walk the path of logic and reason. As such, he had a hard time accepting certain aspects of the magical world. It was not to say that the magic didn't have any logic or reason to it, it was just a different field.
It was then that Charlotte came running downstairs from Hermione's room, rushed into the living room and parked herself between Jack and Emma, effectively ending any further discussion about werewolves and murders.
"Wow, this place is great," said Charlotte. "Everybody in this family has a great house."
Hermione raised her finger sternly. "And we're going to keep it that way. Remember what we talked about, Charlotte."
The girl nodded in response. "I'm going to be a nice girl."
While Grangers had a quick dinner, it was Bellatrix's task to settle them in. Having drawn the short straw, it would be her who'd be unpacking the suitcase and setting up a desk in Jack's study while Hermione enjoyed a book on the sofa in the living room. As Bellatrix gathered the suitcase and was about to go upstairs, the Grangers finished their dinner and were, oddly enough, followed to the kitchen by Charlotte.
"Could I help with the dishes? I used to wash dishes at the orphanage, but Bellatrix and Hermione both use magic to clean the crockery," spoke the girl.
The dark witch found this most gratifying; Charlotte was turning a new leaf, being a lot more helpful and polite than she had been while staying at Rosewood. She decided to wait a bit to spy on Charlotte before going upstairs.
Bellatrix saw Emma offering Charlotte a friendly smile. "Sure, sweetie. You can help me fill the machine."
Charlotte looked at her quizzically. "Machine?" she asked.
"Yes, Charlotte," said Emma. "We have a dish-washer."
Bellatrix couldn't help but shake her head. Poor muggles; having to invent a bulky machine to do the work of the simplest of spells. It was sad, really. She had to wonder how they could cope with normal living.
After watching Charlotte awkwardly help fill the machine for a bit, Bellatrix went upstairs to unpack.
The guestroom was actually quite nice; the bed dominated the room, but there was still plenty of space for a desk, a mirror and a bookcase. Really, this house seemed to be made from bookcases; all of them filled to the brim and overflowing with books. According to Hermione, there were even more books up in the loft. It was also nice to have a private bathroom with shower. A sizable window, when not covered by the drapes, would give a nice view of the front garden. Rather than being square-shaped, the room had an angled slope on one side above the bed, giving it a pleasant and cozy aesthetic. Which was good, considering they'd be staying there for an indeterminate amount of time.
Crookshanks had taken to the room as well, settling into the catbasket Hermione had bought for him ages ago and left at the house.
Bellatrix got to work to transferring their clothes from the suitcase to the walk-in closet, as well as some toiletries.
Pleased with her handiwork, Bellatrix got to work setting up her desk in the study. While she was at it, she figured she might as well fill out some requisitions and approve some reports really quickly. The dark witch took a quill and started working. Before she knew it, almost an hour had passed.
Cursing under her breath, Bellatrix dropped the quill and headed downstairs. At least Hermione wasn't upset with her, otherwise her girlfriend would have come upstairs to fetch her already. Once downstairs, she was confronted with a rather odd sight; Charlotte was lying prone on her stomach, peering intently and suspiciously at the whirring dish-washer.
"Charlotte?" asked Bellatrix as she entered the kitchen. "What on Earth are you doing?"
Before Charlotte could reply, there was a sharp ping from the machine. Immediately, Charlotte eagerly sprung to action, yanking open the door and causing steam to escape. The little girl gasped when she saw the sparkly clean contents of the dish-washer. "Bellatrix, look!" she raved. "They are clean! They are all clean! It's magic! Look, it's magic! I didn't know Muggles could do magic."
Bellatrix rolled her eyes and snorted. "Oh, you are such a little idi..."
"It's not magic, sweetie," said a smiling Jack Granger as he stepped into the kitchen. "It's just a machine, dear, and I can assure you no magic is involved."
Being the kind man that he was, Jack knelt down to one knee and placed a hand on the kid's shoulder. "Come here, I'll show you how it works. Look inside, do you see those plastic arms?"
Not interested in hearing about the ins and outs of Muggle dish-washers, Bellatrix left Jack to explain it, and headed into the living room to spend time with her girlfriend.
The rest of the evening was spent relaxing, something the dark witch sorely needed after this horrible weekend. The Grangers decided to spend some time celebrating the end of the busy day by sitting in front of the Muggle television device watching some sort of documentary about strange looking fish which dwell in the depths of the ocean. Bellatrix looked up from the book she was reading ever so often either let her gaze linger on the more weirder of deep sea creatures or to observe Hermione and Charlotte playing chess. Or more, specifically, watching a very frustrated Hermione getting her arse handed to her by Charlotte at chess.
"Dad," Hermione called over, annoyance clear on her voice. "Could you turn down the TV a bit? I can't concentrate."
"Sure thing, Ladybird."
Bellatrix frowned and mouthed 'Ladybird?' to Hermione.
Hermione was not in the mood for flippancy, however. "Only dad is allowed to call me that, Belle. If I even catch you saying it to me once, I swear I'll obliviate you! Don't think I'm joking, I obliviated Ron too!"
"I wouldn't take that threat lightly if I were you, Bella," Jack chuckled while turning down the volume somewhat. "Hermione's red-headed friend was looking rather confused for an entire day."
"For a Weasley that is not usual," Bellatrix smirked. "Still, you must have called her that before. I've known you both for four years and I don't recall you ever calling Hermione that."
A grin that was more wicked than Bellatrix was used to marred Hermione's gentle features. "Indeed?" her pet spoke, her voice full of mischief. A feeling most horrible crept over Bellatrix.
"Y-you obliviated me?!" Bellatrix blinked while letting the idea sink in.
Hermione's wicked grin never faltered. "Perhaps this time, you won't make fun."
Needing a few moments to process the fact that she'd been selectively obliviated by her own girlfriend, Bellatrix decided to leave well enough alone and focused on her book for a bit while Charlotte and Hermione continued their game of chess.
Hermione maneuvered her rook and looked at Charlotte with a smug grin. "Try coming back from that one, Charlotte."
"Okay," said Charlotte and immediately took Hermione's king.
Bonk!
Sounded the head of Hermione as it hit the table.
"Yay!" Charlotte cheered, oblivious to Hermione's distress. "First time playing chess ever and I win! Hermione, next time you play, you don't have to let me win. Just play for real."
Bellatrix could swear she could hear Hermione growl. "I... wasn't... letting you win," she almost hissed.
The dark witch snickered, earning herself a harsh stare. "Why don't you try poker, pet?"
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Now that is a bloody good idea!"
"Did you have fun utterly destroying a seven-year old at poker, pet?" Bellatrix laughed, sitting in front of the mirror doing her hair for the night.
"Absolutely!" Hermione called back from the bathroom after brushing her teeth. "My self-esteem is completely restored."
After exchanging her clothes for her sleep wear and washing up in the bathroom, Hermione rushed right towards the bed.
"It's rather odd to stay in the guestroom of my own home," Hermione said while settling in underneath the duvet. She seemed rather relaxed and far more happy than she had been the past days, laying her head on the pillow as she did.
"Tired, pet?" Bellatrix asked while running a brush through her curly dark hair with gentle strokes in front of the mirror.
"Not really," replied Hermione. "It's just... I feel better. I still miss Rosewood cottage, but... this place does feel like home to me, even though it's not anymore. Does that make sense?"
"I think it does," Bellatrix said while putting down her brush and lifting her undershirt over her head. "That horrible old apartment I used to live in for more than twenty-five years was a complete pit. The pipes were leaky, it was stone-cold in winter and I didn't have enough room to swing a cat... no offense, Crookshanks... but I still loved that place despite everything."
"It was a symbol of your freedom," Hermione concluded. "I remember you looking a bit down when you handed in the key to the landlord."
"Very astute," said Bellatrix. "But, I have to say, I much prefer Rosewood cottage these days."
The dark witch turned around to walk to the bed, earning herself an appraising stare from Hermione. "Hm, nice view," her pet smiled before Bellatrix slid underneath the duvet. "Belle?"
"Hm?"
"Thanks... for agreeing to stay here," said Hermione while moving to snuggle up against her.
Though it remained to be seen just how safe they were exactly, Bellatrix didn't want to put a damper on Hermione's obviously high spirits. "This... this was a good idea," she spoke sincerely. "Charlotte seems to like it too. Silly girl thinks everything is magical here."
Hermione said nothing, but simply smiled before running a hand through the dark witch's curls. Definitely an invitation there.
"Say, pet?" Bellatrix grinned when she felt her lover's fingertips starting to trace patterns over the soft skin of her belly. "Just... how thin are these walls?"
"Not very. I daresay they are thick enough," Hermione gently rolled on top of the dark witch, waiting to be embraced. At first Bellatrix shivered; Hermione body was still cold from washing up, but soon enough she reveled in the sensations of Hermione's cold skin pressing against her, holding her in her arms. She flinched when she felt Hermione's soft lips wrapping around her earlobe, lovingly biting and suckling.
"Pity," Bellatrix husked when she felt a soft hand cupping her breast. A husk which became a lustful groan when Hermione pushed her leg in between hers and gently but firmly started rubbing her thigh against her sex. "Would have been a wonderfully scandalous conversation at the breakfast table tomorrow."
Hermione giggled while using her free hand to yank loose her long hair. "Bellatrix Black, you just love trolling my parents, don't you?"
"And you don't?" Bellatrix chuckled and mimicked Hermione's earlier words. "Ahum, 'It's perfectly alright to acknowledge the intimacy which comes with that'."
"Well, it's true," Hermione replied. "We are two responsible and healthy adults in a committed relationship, after all."
"Rrrrrr, I love it when you talk dirty to me," Bellatrix leaned in for a kiss, but it was coyly avoided.
"Sssshh," Hermione replied softly while unbuttoning her pajama top. "I want to make you feel good today."
Far be it for Bellatrix to argue with Hermione, especially when she was naked, draped all over her and doing deliciously naughty things to her. The dark witch rolled her head sideways, letting Hermione kiss the soft flesh of her neck with wetted lips.
Her breath caught in her throat after Hermione led a painfully slow trail of kisses to her breasts, where the young witch's soft lips found a hardened nipple to tease with the impossibly warm tip of her nimble tongue. Her heart pounded in her chest while Hermione twirled circles with her tongue and a soft hand found her other breast for a gentle massage. The dark witch embraced her lover, letting her fingernails slide over her back. However, the embrace didn't last long. Hermione slid ever downward until Bellatrix could feel Hermione's long soft hair tickling her inner thighs.
The young witch wasn't about to hurry things along, however, but agonizingly slowly blew softly over her skin.
"You cruel, cruel tease," Bellatrix almost chuckled through her gasps.
"I learned from the best," sounded Hermione. She could literally hear her smirking.
She arched her back the moment Hermione's finger entered her, rocking her hips with the rhythmic motion. Her breath quickened, her heart pounded in her chest. It was a reminder how truly alive Hermione could make her feel. Her pet always told her that her movements were serpentine during lovemaking, a thought that made Bellatrix chuckle.
Hermione undoubtedly interpreted the chuckle as an invitation. An invitation she responded to.
It was the sweetest of tortures; her tongue working in unison with her nimble fingers, every lash hit her sensitive flesh like an earthquake. Quick and shallow strokes alternated with long and deep. Bellatrix thrashed on the mattress, one hand reaching down to run through Hermione's lovely hair, another grasping her own breast.
Her body, moist from sweat, quivered when release came; hard and merciless. As she lay panting, a smiling Hermione curled up against her, lay her hand on her cheek and gently brushed her dark curls away. Their lips met, Bellatrix rewarding her efforts with a hungry and deep kiss. Her fingers dug into Hermione's brown wavy hair to crush her lips to her even more.
In that moment, all worries and all cares were forgotten. There was no more Creed, no more threat, no more nasty business. Just her, Hermione and their love for each other. And it was perfect.
"Well?" Hermione asked, offering her a wonderful lop-sided grin. "Did I make you feel good?"
"What a stupid fucking question," Bellatrix laughed and, when the girl wasn't expecting it, pushed her back onto the bed and grabbed her wrist.
"Belle!" Hermione giggled.
"Why, pet," grinned Bellatrix while she pinned down the giggling girl. "You didn't think I'd let you off that easily, hm? Oh, no, no, no, no, something wicked your way comes, pet. Something very wicked your way comes..."
Hermione's giggles turned into sighs and moans fairly quickly after Bellatrix started her assault. No doubt Crookshanks hoped that the loud humans would finally go to sleep soon and give him some peace.
The cat was going to be sorely disappointed.