For the rest of the afternoon she was subdued, getting on with the process of registration and dispatch from the hospital but she felt distant and clearly struggled to process the whole situation just yet. She was just pulling on a jumper that Fleur brought for her when Bill got her attention by clearing his throat.
"So, you'll be staying at Shell cottage then?" He asked.
She froze for a moment before finishing packing the little overnight bag and turning to look at the couple observing her intently. "I was just going to head back to my flat."
Fleur shook her head. "You are not to stay alone. Eet is not safe for you. You should stay with us," she said resolutely.
Hermione was already shaking her head. "I don't..I'm not safe. What about Victoire? I could lose control and I could never forgive myself-" she clamped a hand over her mouth, feeling nausea roil in her stomach at the very idea of hurting the precious little girl.
"She's away for a week. Summer camp, remember?" Bill reminded her. "It will be just us, and you'll have some time to adjust and learn to moderate," he offered.
Hermione continued to hesitate. "What if…what if I accidentally touch one of you? I couldn't -"
Fleur shrugged. "We can take you clubbing, non? That way we have fun, you can feed as much as you need on human snacks," she suggested, ever blunt and practical. It was one of the French woman's qualities she equally adored and dreaded.
Hermione crossed her arms self-consciously but held her tongue as another healer came in to sign the last of the paperwork before she was finally released. Bill picked up her bag and carried it in a clear sign the conversation was mute and she was coming with them. She didn't fight it anymore, still feeling a bit tired from the magical exhaustion, and allowed herself to be whisked off to the couple's lovely home.
She took a long steaming shower, but instead of feeling more centred as she usually did after the hot water pelted her skin, she felt on edge and morose, the reality of what she had become sinking in. When she sat down in the kitchen, a hand with a fresh cup of tea appeared before her. She glared at the man for a long silent moment until he sighed and offered her the glass tumbler from his other hand, watching her with a frown as she downed the clear liquid within. She couldn't touch firewhiskey without choking, but for some reason had a knack for knocking back gin like a bloody sailor. That had been a rather surprising discovery one night during a trip in Prague…
"How are you feeling?" He asked, grimacing a little when Fleur shot him a look for asking such a stupid question.
Hermione's bark of near hysterical laughter startled them all in the kitchen for a moment. "Well, let's see. Not only am I a branded and scared mudblood, I'm now a branded and scared halfbreed mudblood by most of society's standards. I mean if there was anything else wrong with me, I could sign up for the circus, at least I would make money off that," she mused, summoning the bottle from the small bar tucked in the living room and pouring herself another finger of the clear liquid which she promptly downed.
Fleur set the kettle down with a bit more vigour than perhaps necessary. "I'm sorry, I didn't know this was a pity party. Should we fetch you a tiny cello?" She asked, hands on her hips and tone icy.
The giggle escaped her before she could stop it. "Tiny…cello…ahahaha," she laughed, the botched saying starting her spiralling thoughts until she wasn't laughing so much as crying near hysterically, pressing a hand over her mouth to stem the noise.
Despite the cruel, self-deprecating words she had spoken earlier, she felt the blonde's arms wrap around her tightly as she tried to stifle the panic attack rising in her chest. "You shou - shouldn't touch me," she warned, feeling so completely out of control over the body she previously knew so well.
"Shhhh, you won't hurt me anymore than I or Bill could hurt you," Fleur said simply and resolutely as she rubbed her back until Hermione's tears and panic receded.
Bill took the seat across from her and summoned a glass for himself as well. "From one halfbreed to another, it's not so bad once you get used to it," he offered a similarly self-deprecating smile.
The words sunk in and she looked between them both. "I didn't mean - the two of you are not…bollocks," she sighed, receiving amused chuckles in response. "I didn't mean there's anything wrong with you in any way. You're both incredible and respectable. But I have no illusions that I'll be anything but the Golden Girl on one hand and to others, especially the old pureblood guard, I'll always be an activist muggleborn who doesn't understand the magical society and culture as much as they do. I don't naturally belong, or so I've been told over and over," she tried to explain. "Ironically I think I probably know more about the fibre of magic and spells than most wizards," she mused.
"Probably?" Bill weighed in with a pointed brow.
She shrugged. "I just mean it's a lot of 'otherness'. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful to have you both. You are more than friends, you're practically my family now. I just know this will be another thing to make people weary of me. And for someone whom most people find intimidating and who struggles to get a date on a good day, that's a lot," she pointed out.
"Their loss," Fleur squeezed her arm encouragingly. "Besides, it doesn't matter what most people think. This is who you are, and you are beautiful and powerful, non? That's all that matters," she said resolutely.
Hermione covered her hand with hers and wanted to convey her gratitude when the scent of lavender and sea salt filled her sense and Fleur's eyes were suddenly so vibrant and blue-
"Errrrr Hermione? Perhaps…avoid trying to kiss my wife before we finish our drinks?" Bill pointed out, watching with curious amusement Fleur's allure shimmering along her skin in response to the adoration and pheromones of the succubus.
Like a bucket of cold water, Hermione pulled away and sat back in the chair to get some space between them. "Sorry, I promise I'm not doing it intentionally-"
Fleur just waved her off. "Tout est bien. Now, how about we have a look through those books suggested by the healer? Might as well find out what to expect, non? I'll finish making tea first."
"I'll get the books," Bill offered.
"And I'll try not to have another emotional breakdown," Hermione mumbled to herself as she pushed away the empty glass. Perhaps it would be wise to stay sober to figure out what the next part of her life was to be like.
"Are you sure this is a good idea? What if I can't stop?" Hermione asked for the hundredth time as she fidgeted with the edge of her tank top.
"You'll be just fine, like we planned. And if not, we'll be there to help," Bill promised once more.
They spent last night and part of this morning reading through the books and making a plan. Hermione felt the hunger inside her growing steadily and by the time they began to get ready to go out, she was fidgeting. She had very reluctantly agreed that clubbing in muggle London seemed like a good idea as long as she was chaperoned.
They entered the short line for the club and she felt herself being pulled into Bill's side, his large warm hand squeezing her hip supportively as he held the two witches in his arms.
"Lucky bastard," someone mumbled behind them and Fleur positively preened while Hermione tried to suppress her snicker of amusement.
They made for a striking triad - the redhead tall and broad with his rakish grin and scars, Fleur with her Victoria's Secret model figure and striking pale features, and Hermione's shorter, curvier frame, tattoos, and golden-brown skin positively glowing with her succubus appeal. The bouncer took one look at them, his gaze straying to Fleur's long legs before he waved them through.
They got their stamps, dropped off their jackets and entered the pulsing heart of the club where the corners were already occupied by couples in private conversations and heated lip-locks, and the dance floor filled with a mass of heated bodies writhing to Rihanna's latest.
"Get us a drink?" Fleur suggested as she took Hermione's hand and beamed at Bill.
He winked and leaned down to say something into her ear directly before heading for the bar as the blonde dragged Hermione towards the dance floor. It was true that she used to be shy about her dancing when younger but Hermione had discovered her body since, realised she liked the freedom of occasionally going out clubbing and having a dance with her friends. She had been honest, dating was difficult with her hero status and fierce intellect that seemed to intimidate most men she had met previously, and clubs were a good way to find someone she wouldn't mind knowing for one night only.
It has been a while though and as they found their way towards the front of the dance floor and the bodies around them closed in, she felt something awaken inside her. It was like the bloom of a flower, she felt the protective layers around her magical senses open up, layer by layer, until it wasn't just a darkened club with flashing lights and a writhing mass of bodies. She could see the room in shades of pinks, reds and oranges as the bright auras of the people around her and their heightened sexual energy began to manifest.
"What do you see?" Fleur's words reached her over the music, her breath tickling Hermione's earlobe.
"Everyone…I see everyone's desire.." She replied in wonder, spinning around on the spot to take the room in.
She felt Fleur's hands grip her hips and gently guide them to the rhythm of the pulsing beat to blend into their surroundings as yet another dancing pair. Hermione was a little stiff to begin with until she turned around and saw the blonde's enjoyment at the heated glances sent their way, her inner veela thriving on the attention. And she felt herself relaxing, letting loose as she took Fleur's hand and spun them both with a grin until they stood closer, their bodies swaying to the same rhythm.
She felt the shift a few moments later when the circle around them tightened a little and they caught more eyes than before, Fleur's pearlescent beauty and the soft golden glow to her own skin attracting the muggles like moths to the nearest light. They are even approached a couple of times by men but shook their heads to stop anyone from interrupting their moment of freedom and fun. Yes, they were here to help Hermione feed, but they were also here to have fun and this was just for the two of them.
They finally found their way towards the bar and off to the side to a table and set of stools where Bill was waiting for them, eyes glowing slightly in the darkened room. Hermione's gaze flared orange and bronze as she read his aura and saw the heat in his gaze and desire in his energy. He was not unaffected, but that was to be expected when he was so in love with his wife. She tried to temper her powers and climbed up onto one of the stools, reaching for her gin and tonic and getting half of it down before Fleur even got into her own seat.
Bill shot her an amused grin. "Do you see them?" He asked vaguely but she knew what he was referring to.
The books have been illuminating and now they all knew she would read desire and others' energy. She merely nodded, cheeks rosy as she pulled away from his vibrant gaze and scanned the dance floor.
There were so many people of all shapes, size, age, and ethnicity. So many beautiful features, dimples, freckles, wide swaying hips, sweaty hairlines….she soaked up the energy of the club and felt her magical core positively trilling at the saturation of heat and desire. She felt her own body responding, thighs shifting slightly under the table in search of friction for her pulsing clit.
That was when she spotted him.
He was leaning against the wall beside their table and observing the crowd across from them. She could see his aura, heated and dark. But unlike the sweet honey of the warm sexual attraction that was surrounding her, his smelled like pomegranate, dark, ripe and with a deep bitter edge that left her unsettled.
This she had also read about, and her hand reached for Bill's under the table, squeezing his wrist in distress. His grin changed into a frown in the blink of an eye and he followed her gaze to the man who was surveying the crowd silently.
"What is it?" He asked.
"He feels wrong. I think he's…going to hurt someone…" she tried to explain, not quite sure how to put it into words when he nodded in understanding and said something to Fleur before slipping away.
She tried to follow him in the crowd with her gaze but lost him, only for his coppery locks to reappear a couple of minutes later, his tall frame followed by a beefy bouncer. It took the man beside them a few moments to notice but when it was clear they were heading for him, he bolted, weaving his way through the crowd towards the toilets. They managed to catch up with him though and watched as he was taken away by the bouncer as Bill returned to their table.
The episode had dimmed her own desire and Hermione found herself downing the rest of her drink, looking into the glass with trepidation. So that's what the books meant. She could detect desire and sexual energy but on occasion, if the desire was truly violent and dark with the aim to seriously injure or kill, her senses would tell her. And now, knowing she could potentially be spotting sexual predators on these outings, her libido dimmed rather rapidly.
"I want to go," she said, aware that Bill could hear her clearly.
His lips set in a grim line. "You haven't fed."
She shook her head vehemently. "I couldn't if I wanted to," she replied and slipped from her stool.
Though she couldn't hear them clearly, Fleur got the gist of the situation and came to stand beside her, wrapping an arm around her waist supportively. They exchanged a look with Bill and after a moment flanked her once again on each side as they headed out.
Appearing back to Shell Cottage didn't take long at all and she thanked them both quietly for taking her out before heading upstairs, shutting herself in her room to get away.
There was a beat of silence in the kitchen between husband and wife, before Fleur stepped out of her heels and walked over into Bill's arms. He held her close as he leaned back against the kitchen counter with a sigh.
"What can we do?" He asked, his worry clear in the low pitch of his voice as he contemplated their situation.
"I don't think a snack will be enough," Fleur lifted her head, looking at her husband with frank assessment.
"Do you mean a muggle will no longer be enough?" He corrected.
"Sémantique, mon mari chéri," she pointed out. "She needs a wizard, or a witch. Even better, a demi human," she pointed out.
Bill looked into her soft blue eyes and something clicked into place, a soft rumble leaving his throat.
Fleur who had long ago learnt to recognise the wolf within her husband smiled. "I thought so," she nodded and cupped his face gently, her thumb caressing his scarred cheek. "Are we on the same page?" She asked.
"I think so," he nodded. "Are you sure?" He asked, wanting to hear her say it. Fleur's veela heritage made her naturally protective of her own, and he had previously noticed her quiet possessiveness when he was being accosted by a random woman on the rare occasion. But that jealousy didn't seem to affect her relationship with Hermione.
"I wasn't sure at first but then I asked myself - would being with her break or add to our relationship? And I knew the answer, my magic did, as did my veela….just as your wolf is telling you right now," she pointed out.
"I love you….with every fibre of my being, my wolf, and my magic," his words were soft and eyes glowed golden with the truth of his declaration.
"As I love you, William. And I look forward to loving her as much as I love you, if she lets us," she offered, smiling against his lips as they landed across hers in a heated kiss.
Hermione rubbed her face tiredly, feeling the deep bags under her eyes as she pulled herself out of bed. Her night had been restless, she kept tossing and turning, feeling her unrest and hunger grow as the minutes and then hours passed by. She heard Bill's footsteps on the stairs an hour or so back, as he headed out of the cottage. She knew he had a few errands to run and wondered whether it would be rude to avoid her friends and hosts for the day.
There was nothing for it though - she needed a steaming cup of tea and some breakfast, otherwise her stomach would eat itself. She made her way to the kitchen but paused in the doorway at the sight before her.
It wasn't unusual for Fleur to be in a state of undress around her - they'd seen each other in pyjamas, underwear and swimwear over the years. But something about this felt almost deliberate as she watched the icy blue satin barely cover her cheeks, the flimsy camisole doing nothing to hide her soft pale skin, dusting of dark moles on her back and arms, or the firm peaks of her nipples as she moved around the room.
Her own body reacted almost instantly to the beautiful woman, her nipples peaking and making her shudder as they rubbed against the soft cotton on her short nightdress. Control, that's what she needed desperately, not this temptation.
She was about to turn away and try and come back later but Fleur spotted her and smiled warmly in greeting. "Morning, did you manage any sleep?" She asked with a hint of worry in her voice as she set about getting her a cup of tea.
"Some," she responded without admitting just how little. "Sorry for last night again," she ran a hand through her wild mane, taking off the hair tie from her wrist and wrestling it into a messy bun atop her head where it was out of the way.
"You have nothing to be sorry for," Fleur said resolutely as she brought her tea cup to the table, barely a foot of space between their bodies. "I just want you to be well, and happy. We both do," she said softly.
Hermione felt her senses open and the soft rosy aura of the witch before her made her shudder pleasantly. It was the energy of soft pulsing desire in the darker fuchsia tones around the edges of her aura that was her undoing. She could practically smell her this close up, the delicate floral scent heated and musky - Hermione shook herself. Another thing that apparently the books got right - she could smell when women ovulated as it tended to increase hormones and pheromones that her succubus sense picked up. "I- I can't…I'm not safe. You need to step back," she tried to warn Fleur, her own feet refusing to move away from the delicious scent.
"Non, you won't hurt me," Fleur closed the distance between them, reaching to lift her chin a little until their eyes met, powerful glistening bronze clashing with the Veela's silvery-blue shimmer.
And a clash it was - of bodies, of lips, of magic itself as the succubus would no longer be denied what she needed. Fleur's breath hitched as she was pressed back against and onto the kitchen table, her lithe thighs spreading to accommodate the brunette's hips as their bodies pressed even closer. An answering groan had her shuddering in pleasure as her lips parted at the insistent pressure of Hermione's tongue as they kissed deeply. She felt her veela side trill happily at the attention, her head positively spinning as her magical core pulsed with need and recognition.
Instincts taking over after being denied for days on end, the succubus pressed forward and sucked on the delicious energy created by their synergy, fingers tightening in the satin barrier to soft creamy flesh until she was able to pinch a rosy nipple and felt an answering pulse of pleasure feeding her further.
Fleur could only hold on as her back arched in pleasure, fingers digging into Hermione's already half-undone pile of fragrant curls. She could taste honey on her tongue, and her head spun further at the electrifying touch traveling the planes of her belly.
More, she needed more… Hermione gasped when her fingers pressed past the waistband of the thin shorts, meeting a patch of coarse curls and moist heat as he fingers slid between silky folds of the blonde's sex. She relished the trill of pleasure that left Fleur's lips, both her human side and the eager creature within her responsive to her. Her touch circled the pulsing bundle of nerves atop the wet slit before smoothly pressing in one of her fingers, caressing her partner intimately for only a few moments before adding another to appease the eager, hungry walls clenching around her digits.
"Plus dur-ah yesss.." The whispered plea was met with a wet sound of Hermione's fingers thrusting harder, faster, building her pleasure, seeing the blonde's sensitive body was ready to peak.
"Come for me-" the command was soft and husky, the words and succubus magic caressing Fleur's senses and she felt her body respond eagerly, tipping over the edge into the abyss of pleasure but a couple of thrusts later.
Hermione swallowed Fleur's cry in a deep kiss as her brilliant eyes flickered open and she fed on the pleasure bursting from the woman in her arms and feeding her deep hunger perfectly. She felt the blonde's hips rubbing against her hand, riding out the pleasure for a few moments longer before her thighs shuddered and tried to close against the stimulation. Her fingers withdrew gently and she finally felt able to step away from her.
Her eyes returned to their usual whiskey-brown and she felt the sense of horror dawning on her. What has she done? She just practically pushed herself on her dearest friend, her MARRIED friend. Oh Gods - Bill.
Her head snapped up towards the door where she saw the redhead standing in the doorframe, his gaze taking in the scene before him with a quiet stillness, a soft rumbling growl breaking the silence in the kitchen.
"Oh God- Fleur, I - Bill - I'm so sorry-" she had to clap a hand over her mouth to stop the bile rising in her throat and did the only thing her panicked, warring mind knew to do.
She apparated on the spot with a loud crack, hearing none of their calls to stop through the blood rushing in her ears.