Afternoon sunlight pooled into the classrooms of Hogwarts University, highlighting the figure of a bright-eyed girl sitting rather uncomfortably in her chair. Her pencil rapped on the desk in time with the soft ticking of the clock, magnifying her impatience. Only three more minutes of class. Surely she could withstand that much?
"Miss Granger." The student in question jolted, her gaze riveting straight into that of her professor's. The woman's head cocked to the side, her long black curls caressing the pale expanse of her neck as they bobbed gently. Hermione gulped.
"Miss Granger, if you would be so kind as to cease that obnoxious little habit of yours, some of us are trying to concentrate on the lesson."
"You make it hard," the brunette muttered to herself. The professor stepped forward.
"What was that?"
"Nothing, Miss Black. I didn't say anything." The professor pursed her lips, clearly unconvinced.
"Mm. I suppose you wouldn't feel more comfortable telling me what you said after class, then?" At this, the boy beside Hermione looked at her anxiously. The rest of the class was unmoved; they were rather used to Professor Black making this request, especially to Hermione Granger.
"We'll see," the brunette quipped, her expression stoic. Professor Black chuckled darkly.
"Cheeky today, are we? Yes, I do think I shall have a word with you after class. After all, I expect so much more from my best-"
Bzzzzzzz. Bzzzzzzzzzz.
Every student in the class jolted at the sound. The professor's gaze snapped towards the source, staring daggers into the young boy who was already shrinking into his seat.
"S-sorry, Professor, I must have left my- er, alarm on-" The boy spluttered. Hermione watched as the dark-haired woman leaned back slightly, like a snake poised to strike.
Before she could move, however, someone else in the room began to cough loudly. Everyone turned to the messy-haired boy in the chair next to Hermione's, who was coughing into his arm. Professor Black scowled in his direction, catching a glimpse of the clock on the wall as she turned. Noting the time, her demeanor quickly changed from furious to distant.
"Class dismissed."
The students gathered their things quickly before shuffling for the door. The boy whose phone had gone off, Neville, nearly sprinted out into the hallway. Hermione watched him go, knowing her summons to stay after class was the only thing keeping him from a scolding. She began to pack up, brushing arms with her friend with the tousled hair as she did so. He turned and gave her a concerned look.
"I'll be alright, Harry. You go," she told him. Harry didn't seem convinced, but nodded nonetheless. He offered her a small smile before making his way out with the crowd.
When the stragglers had gone and the door clicked shut behind them, Hermione shoved her notebook into her bag with a soft sigh. There was a shuffling of papers from across the room, followed by a thud. With her things put away, the brunette stepped up to where Professor Black sat on her desk, her baton tapping on the wood.
"You make it too easy, Granger." Hermione scowled at that. She came closer, her face now nearly level with the professor's.
"Shut up, Bellatrix." The older woman grinned devilishly.
"I mean it, Muddy. You were practically begging me to give you an excuse to stay. I mean, you could have up and left with everyone else, yet here you are." And risk poor Neville getting the wits scared out of him by Professor Black? Not likely. Still, Bellatrix made it too obvious. She was too cocky; one of these days she was going to get them both caught.
"Bella, I need to talk… about something." Hermione was careful not to say "to you" in an attempt to avoid some cheesy cliché. Those kinds of statements were reserved for people in cheap romance novels, and if anything the brunette constantly felt as if she were trapped in a horror story.
"You always do. That's how it works, isn't it? If your motor mouth ever stopped sorting through the nonsense in your brain, I'm afraid your poor swollen head might explode."
Bella slipped off the desk with a sharp click of heels, but remained leaning against it. She smoothed out her black dress that was cut as high as the school dress code would allow. Her long, well-manicured fingers reached up to straighten the forest green kerchief tucked into her collar. Hermione watched silently, struggling not to betray her thoughts on exactly what those fingers could do. Bellatrix smirked, well aware of the looks the other girl was giving her.
"So, what is it you want to talk about today, Muddy?" Hermione flinched inwardly, the nickname pulling her out of her ill-concealed fantasy.
"I do wish you wouldn't call me that."
"You do wish," Bellatrix parroted. "We all wish for something at some point, don't we? That doesn't mean it ever comes true." Her hand came out to grasp the baton on her desk, waving it around with abandon. "Wouldn't it be wonderful, if we all lived in a world with magic and spells and wishes? Well, maybe not all of us. You would have to be born with a knack for the art of spellcasting, wouldn't you agree?" Bella tapped the baton against her chin thoughtfully before returning it to the desk.
"Lucky for you, there's no such thing as magic. I would have guessed someone of your acceptable intelligence could figure that out."
"Did you just call me intelligent in your own, roundabout way?"
"Perhaps." Bellatrix smiled. "More to the point, I wasn't the one who tripped and fell into a huge mud puddle while my nose was buried in a book, was I? And on the first day of class, no less." She noticed the fierce blush on Hermione's cheeks and grinned knowingly.
"At least it wasn't a school book. Do you know how much I spent on hardcovers this year? A good bloody lot."
"Is that what you stayed to talk to me about? How much you've spent on literature?" The brunette frowned.
"No. It isn't. Bella, what you're doing- it isn't right. I mean, you ask to see me after class almost every day. People will start to... to notice. It isn't proper." She paused, looking down. Bellatrix had pushed off from the desk in favor of towering over the smaller girl. Her hands ghosted over Hermione's waist.
"Funny. It doesn't seem to me like you care what's proper and what isn't anymore."
"I'm being serious!" Hermione fumed. She batted Bella's hands away, tilting her head to meet the taller woman's eyes. "Please, listen to me. If we get caught then both of our lives will become a living hell. My parents could barely afford to send me here. At least you have your ludicrous fortune and your family of snakes to fall back on." Bella backed away, an incredulous look on her face.
"Snakes, indeed," she scoffed. "My family has been swimming in success for ages, and the money is all honestly earned. Well, most of it. I wouldn't put it past my brother-in-law to taint the Black family fortune with his filthy Malfoy money. Honestly, what was Cissy thinking? That man is a crook. The only honest thing he's ever done for her was help produce my darling nephew Draco." Hermione's eyes went wide as her brain processed what was just revealed to her.
"Draco is your nephew?"
"Yes, of course. Do you not see the resemblance?" Bellatrix acted as if this fact was blatantly obvious, but for the record, it wasn't.
"I'm starting to," Hermione muttered. She remembered how the boy and his posse had bullied Hermione and her friends all through primary school. Granted, Draco had mellowed out over the years. He was very intelligent, and handsome to boot. Hermione didn't speak to him much, but he was cordial to her when they passed in the corridor. She could only guess that Draco was becoming more like his mother.
Bellatrix spoke up again, interrupting her thoughts.
"What exactly do you mean by that, Muddy? Are we talking behavior, or intelligence? Perhaps you were thinking about attractiveness. Now that you mention it, Draco has become quite handsome."
"I didn't mention anything like that!" Hermione spluttered, causing the older woman to chuckle.
"You didn't have to. It's alright to find other people attractive, sweetling. So long as you know where your loyalties lie." Bella's hands were starting to roam again. She leaned in close, nipping the skin at Hermione's neck. She jumped at the contact.
"Bella-"
"You know what, I think I'll cut you a deal, if only it will get you to stop talking." One hand came up to curl a brunette strand with a delicate finger. Hermione's hands moved to Bella's shoulders, digging lightly into the skin. She was suddenly having a hard time being patient.
Grinning all the while, Bellatrix grabbed her student by the waist and switched their positions, pressing Hermione's back against the edge of the desk.
"Who's being improper now?" She purred, lowering her lips to Hermione's neck. The girl groaned softly and gripped Bella's hips. The woman rolled forward in response, grinding against Hermione's core and setting off fireworks in her vision. Smiling cheerily, the professor let go of Hermione, watching as she lost her wits and slumped against the desk.
"Bella, why-"
"Hush, Muddy. What we're doing isn't proper, remember? Against school rules, it is. And I know how much you like playing by the rules." She emphasized her last word with a low hiss resembling a serpent's. Hermione almost laughed at the irony, but her mind was too fuzzy to react to anything. Maybe there really were too many things in her head, blocking up her judgement.
Hermione barely registered the hand in front of her face, and she began to reach blindly for it. Bellatrix caught her and pulled her to her feet.
"Do you want to go out tonight?" The question sliced through the fog in her brain like a knife.
"What?"
"Christ, Granger. For a straight-A student you sure are dense. I said, do you want to go out tonight?"
"I heard what you said." Hermione rubbed her temples, the last few sparks of arousal in her mind's eye fading away. "I just- why?" Truly, the thought of Bellatrix taking her out on a date was immensely satisfying. On the other hand, she always had a sinking feeling that her professor only saw her as the teacher's pet. Was she really interested in an honest relationship, or was she just pushing to see how far the law-abiding golden girl would go?
Bellatrix, Hermione noticed, appeared to be getting uncomfortable with the younger's thoughtful silence. She shifted her arms across her chest, flushing lightly. "You don't have to agree, of course. It's not like I care. I only suggested it because there's a new restaurant in the next town over and I-"
"I accept."
"-would feel silly making a reservation for one. Wait, what?" Hermione chuckled.
"Goodness, Miss Black, for a college professor you sure are dense." Bellatrix huffed.
"Shut up, Granger." She gave the girl a once-over, her posture relaxing slightly. "I'll pick you up at seven outside the commons. It's a rather posh establishment, so please try to dress like you haven't missed the past thirty years of fashion trends." Hermione plopped onto Bella's desk, pouting.
"There is a school dress code, you know. Trust me, I have better things in my closet that don't make me look like I live under a rock." This was probably true. Hermione wasn't exactly the world's greatest fashionista, but she had some decent outfits at home to dig through. Her best bet was to have her friend Ginny assist in the wardrobe department, without giving away the occasion of course.
Hermione shifted slightly against the desk, and a familiar tingling sensation bloomed between her legs. Exasperated, she turned to her professor, who was eying her with mild amusement.
"So, are you going to finish what you started, or not?" Bellatrix tapped her chin, considering for a moment. The only response Hermione received was a catlike grin and a short, decisive quip.
"Nope."