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: A little bit of NSFW
Chapter 10. The Awful Truth.
Hermione got up, from their bed, and with the light from a small lantern next to her desk, she unfurled her prolific notes, and resumed her research, sighing. Tomorrow, in her free period, she would continue her experiment, in which she transfigured a matchbook and a salt shaker into a miniature human and a miniature Veela, attempting to copulate using the spells she had catalogued in the reproductive arts, after consultation with Madame Pomphrey.
She already had 11 failed experiments. The first few resulted in the Veela, as in real life, essentially bludgeoning the human to death; after she corrected for that by taming the Veela first, the two species appeared to be too different in their reproductive genome to actually have the Veela sperm fertilize the human egg. That is, of course, after she extracted the Veela sperm from the gonads and tried in-vitro fertilization: allowing things to happen "naturally" resulted in the human sustaining perineal tears.
The Veela was just too large for the human to handle, realistically.
That fact had not escaped the smartest witch of her era. However, she was Hermione Delacour-Granger, and she considered this merely a speed bump. She was becoming quite adept at augmented reproduction, in fact. So far, she had indexed the two genomes, using her blood and Fleur's blood, and thought she had figured out a way to crack the code.
She sighed.
Hopefully, tomorrow's experiments would result in a breakthrough.
She looked over to Fleur, laying in their bed, who was completely dead to the world, and she sighed again. She owed it to Fleur; she knew what was riding on this. Simply because Fleur loved her, Hermione the muggle born human, the leadership and rule of the most powerful Veela Clan in Europe would pass from the Delacour's hand to someone...far less deserving.
She grimaced in remembrance...
XOXOXOXOXOXO
Flashback: Four 1/2 Years Prior
Hermione and Apollene gave each other an unspoken look of solidarity before they entered the highly secure hospital suite. After their top secret clearance was vetted, they were allowed entrance into the room, where a single female lay in a bed, barely alive. Wrapped in bandages, with IV fluids and multiple mediwitches tending to her, Apollene let out a small gasp.
The patient turned towards the door. Her eyes widened in fear, until she saw who it was entering.
"Sil vous plait...Agent Granger..." she croaked, lifting up her one hand that was not crushed.
Hermione kept her expression calm, and offered a smile, as she crossed the room, and grasped the young woman's hand. She put everything she had into extending a comforting smile, hoping it worked.
"Hello, Colette."
"Bonsoir, 'ermione."
"I'm sorry, I know you feel out of sorts...but Agent Delacour has a few questions, okay?"
"Will you be 'ere?"
"Of course." Hermione squeezed her hand. "The whole time. I promise."
"D'accord. What is it, Madame Delacour?" The young Veela addressed her with the title of her standing in the Clan, versus her wizarding title of Agent.
The older woman looked at her, then Hermione, nodding. "It iz very lucky zat Agent Granger found you, oui?"
"Oui."
"She saved your life." The older woman said, appeasingly.
"Oui. And nearly died, herself."
Apollene nodded. "Not bad, for a human." The two Veelas exchanged a knowing smile, in solidarity. "Alors ...Mademoiselle, I 'ave to ask...'ow did zis happen? Veela's travel in packs...'ow did zey get you, by yourself?" Apollene asked, sternly.
The battered young woman, a shell of what she used to be, looked up meekly at the fierce matriarch. "I was not alone, Madame Delacour."
Apollene looked shocked, and a look passed between her and Agent Granger.
"Who? Who waz with you?"
"The Mendonca sisters, Madame." She said quietly, wincing as she pushed herself up, slightly.
The regal Veela looked shocked. "Morceau de merde!" Apollene muttered, under her breath. "Let me guess...zey abandoned you, and let zat 'orrible man take you."
The broken woman nodded.
Apollene looked up at Agent Granger. "Well, 'ermione, zat was the only piece of zis I did not understand. I understand 'ow he tortured her once he had her, I just did not understand how he got her, in ze first place. Veelas travel in packs, to prevent ambush."
Hermione nodded, grimly.
"I never zought it would be one of her own, who betrayed 'er...not even zem."
She looked down gently, at the battered remains of the broken Veela, who was still trembling. Colette's eyes were darting around, nervously. She clutched Hermione's hand like it was her only lifeline.
"Colette," Hermione began gently, holding her hand firmly. "We need to talk about...your future."
"I 'ave no future, Agent Granger."
Hermione Accio'ed a chair to sit by the bedside snd looked sincerely into the younger woman's eyes. She gripped her hand.
"That's not true, Colette!" She said fiercely.
"Zey will find me. I 'ave seen Zem...what zey are capable of. I will end up like Nanette."
Nanette was the sentinel Veela murder, the one that caused the international scandal. She was the one that brought the global sex ring to light, enslaving Veelas of all nationalities, torturing them into submission. The women were forced into becoming sex workers for their kidnappers. It made sense, in a morbid way, to use Veela for this purpose; their thrall allowed their grizzly captors to drive up their "commission" price to nearly unreasonable levels. Poor saps would bankrupt themselves, their families, their businesses... All to have 'just one more night' with the irresistible women.
Nanette was the reason Hermione and Apollene became the unusual partner duo; as Hermione the only Agent in the multi-national collalition tasked that was seemingly immune to Apollene's thrall, it made sense for them to work together. When she asked her why she was immune, the older woman merely shrugged, offering sagely, "I suspect your heart already knows what it wants."
Plus, Apollele was an experienced pro, and she did not tolerate fools lightly.
Hermione was the rare Agent indeed that could work alongside her, worthy. The veteran agent formerly known as "The Silver Fox" taught Hermione tirelessly,on a wide range of things that 40 years of experience would offer an Agent in the field...wizarding or Veela. Hands down, Apollene was impressed by the Golden Girl. And so, she had a menthe, outside her own children, that she felt was worthy of teaching for the first time in many years...maybe ever. It was a relationship that would continue in the years to come, long after the case was closed.
But now, the wise one was oddly silent. Hermione was perplexed. She looked to Apollene, confused. The Silver Fox was in the unique position to both solve the case and offer the witness shelter. Shelter more impenetrable than any witness protection program could offer.
"But...what about your Clan..?"
Both Apollene and the battered woman shook their heads.
"No. I will just be considered damaged goods." Colette said, pained. "I 'ave disgraced the Veela."
Hermione exploded. "Through no fault of your own, damn it! They...they surely wouldn't blame the victim, right?" Hermione cast her gaze at her Mentor. "Right, Agent Delacour?"
Apollene said quietly, "I fear, even wiz the protections of ze House Delacour behind 'er, ze Mendonca twins will be a nightmare..."
Colette grimaced, nodding. "Nathalee et Nicole, zey are..." tears fell from her eyes, and she winced. She looked up at the Silver fox, Madame Apollene. "Zey are awful, Madame! If anyone does better zen them, zey so some zing to get rid of Zem, or destroy Zem! Zat is the only reason zey graduated first at Beauxbatons ... Zat, and ze fact zey were never in ze class with Fleur or Gabrielle..."
"What? Why?" Hermione asked. "What do the Delacour girls have to do with it?"
Colette snorted. "Ze only zing zat awful family fears in ze least bit, are Ze Delacours. Ze only family more powerful zan zeire own."
Apollene was pensive. Speaking, as though deep in thought, she asked, "Nanette was in zeire year group, oui? At Beauxbatons?"
"Yes, Madame." She answered dutifully.
No one said anything, the silence suffocating. Hermione looked at both of them, closely. She was the rare individual, emotionally intelligent as well as academically.
She rubbed Colette's arm, gently, changing the subject. "So...no Clan, then. Where in the wizarding world would you like to go, then?"
"Nowhere. Zeire is nowhere for me to go, Agent Granger. My thrall will identify me, everywhere, it will only be a matter of time until zey get me."
Hermione's eyes twinkled, fueled by the incandescence of her brilliant mind. "I just might have a solution for that, Colette! So let me ask you again, if your thrall was not an issue, where in the world would you like to go?"
XOXOXOXOXO
Honestly, Fleur could be like a man, in some ways. After Hermione fucked her silly, Fleur would drag herself towards Hermione's tit, and Fleur would latch on, greedily, and suckle her mate, until she fell dead asleep. Some nights were more difficult than others to pull her off; so occasionally she would just leave her there, and eventually fall asleep herself.
Then in the morning, she would be completely drained, on one side, and Fleur would have to quickly "even her out," on the other. Gulping her down, the equivalent of "chugging," if there were such a thing, in nursing terminology... in order for them to make it to the Great Hall on time for Minerva's mandatory breakfast appearance by the staff.
Ordinarily, Hermione would often be the first one there. These days, however, she was dictated by her own addictive desires.
For in those mornings, when Fleur was forced to nurse her so quickly, the "letdown" would hit the brunette like a ton of bricks. Similar to all women who lactate, it would release oxytocin to her brain...but in these moments, it wasn't the warm and cozy feel of a fleece blanket as most of their nursing sessions were. No, these isolated times were more like what a supposed heroin injection would be like, Hermione imagined.
It was so good...so addicting...and she wanted more. And the fact that it was Fleur's hungry mouth that was doing it to her, eager to empty Hermone's full breast, only added to her addiction. It would reduce her to nothing but a pleasure craving as she watched Fleur; Fleur's hunger put her mouth on her, Fleur's eager gulps as the milk trickled down the sides of the blonde's lips and Hermione's breast; and listening to Fleur's sated moans while she swallowed.
She wanted it, all the time.
The times Fleur had stayed on her breast, overnight, she apparently sucked with such force, in their sleep, it was as though Hermione's body went into panic mode. Her mammary glands on high alert, going into DEF-CON5 mode and thinking they had someone waiting that was THAT hungry they'd be willing to nurse 8-10 hours straight, caused a physiologic reaction. And her body responded, accordingly. So the breast that Fleur did not nurse from was always engorged.
So there would always be a full breast waiting for Fleur, the next morning, on the one she hadn't latched onto, the night before.
She would take to it, just as addicted as Hermione. She would drink it down, hungry; but it would leave Fleur fully sated, and as a result, she would only pick at the actual food on her breakfast plate subsequently, turning her nose up at the "human food."
Hermione hated to admit it, she did...but the fact of the matter was, she loved the fact Fleur filled up on her. She loooooved it. She loved, specifically, that she sated Fleur Delacour; she nursed and provided for her in such a manner, that her mate needed nothing else. And so, more often than not, she would make sure Fleur would go "second," during sex, so that she could intentionally put her down, her mouth on Hermione's nipple, latched.
The Gryffindor would watch her, tenderly, while stroking her hair, her neck...all surefire ways to get Fleur to nod off; especially as the warm milk let down, and the familiar comfort of Hermione's milk landed in Fleur's eager mouth.
When the sensation of letdown hit Hermione's brain, not even the unsettled nature of her experiments could make her anxious. It was the only time her my knees magnificent brain wasn't attempting to figure out a solution to this problem.
Because it was a problem, indeed. In those tiny windows of pleasure, it was the only time Hermione had peace; the only time she forgot reality.
The reality that kept her sleepless...
The reality that her human nature would be the reason for transfer of the power from the Delacours to...the Mendoncias.
TBC
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