Breaking the Window

Chapter 43: Back to School

Hermione felt the sun on her bare skin as she lay on her back in the lovely bed. The warmth of the sun coming in through the panes of glass was not nearly as pleasant as the hand sliding over her stomach, the curls tickling her thighs and the unrelenting tongue artfully tickling her wetness.

And the fingers. Oh god, the fingers.

Her womanhood felt like a fiery furnace while Bellatrix continued her unrelenting onslaught. This was revenge, pure and simple. Evil, wicked and nasty revenge.

It had been a month since Hermione and Bellatrix had returned to Hogwarts and for Hermione it had been a welcome return to a sense of normality and stability of routine. Both girls had been delighted to hear that all their grades up until their respective winter holiday breaks in 1968 and 1998 were still valid and could pick up their education from where they had left off. Furthermore, considering their usual situation, McGonagall had still decided to separate them from the rest of the student body and the girls were enjoying a converted guest quarters rather than being put into dorms of their perspective houses. Hermione was fairly certain that Andromeda had had a hand in that.

It was a situation the girls were both very much grateful for. Another thing they were grateful for was that they had been given the single big and soft bed they had asked for.

Since coming to Hogwarts, they had been living as a couple. The Christmas and Solstice celebrations were wonderful and their New Years celebration of the year 2002 had been beyond epic, but when Andie offered the both of them private tutors it was Hermione who suggested they simply spent the remaining five months to go at Hogwarts, arguing that it'd be good for them both.

And now here she was: lying in their bed while her womanly secrets were being unrelentingly massacred by Bellatrix' nimble tongue.

It was only meant to be a bit of a tease. Hermione, as usual, had woken up long before Bellatrix had, still spooning her from behind. The sleeping Bellatrix looking so innocent, so enticing. Hermione simply couldn't resist sliding her hands over her shoulders, down the length of her arm. Her skin so soft. The rising and falling of her chest so sensuous. She cupped her breast so softly, so gently. It caused Bellatrix to stir and mumble in her sleep.

A wicked grin crossed her features when Hermione got even more adventurous. Still naked from last evening's frenetic fulfilment, her hand slid down and found Bellatrix' sex. Hermione felt her own arousal mount when Bellatrix' breath quickened in her sleep. The curly-haired witch shifted to give Hermione easier access, raising her leg slightly.

Perfect.

Fingers entered her, crooking as she thrust deeper and deeper. Bellatrix started moaning in her sleep, mewing Hermione's name with a weak voice. Hermione loved every moment of it: the pleasure she was giving to her girlfriend and, secretly, also the power she held over her in that moment. Moans became brief cries of pleasure. Brief cries became laboured exhales until a shudder went through her entire body. She clamped her legs together in ecstasy, trapping Hermione's hand in between her thighs.

Her hand still trapped, Hermione reached over to kiss the sleeping Bellatrix on the cheek.

Only for her to be grabbed by the arm, pulled over Bellatrix and thrown onto her back with a yelp. Bellatrix was upon her in an instant, grinning before crushing her lips on hers. Her tongue invaded her mouth while arms wrapped around her for a heavenly, heavenly kiss.

"Little minx," grinned Bellatrix after breaking the kiss and brushing a lock of brown hair off Hermione's forehead. "I think I need to teach you a lesson."

And now here she was, being pleasured like never before by a Bellatrix who was eager to take revenge. Revenge was a dish best served cold: she had watched Wrath of Khan with her dad often enough to know this. Today's lesson, however, was that Bellatrix had found a way to serve revenge with a hot tongue and soft lips. Much... much... much better. It might be very cold in space, but it was very warm in this bed.

God, she was so close to the edge now. Drenched in sweat, Hermione arched her back while moans had become full on screams now. Thank god she remembered to put a silencing charm up around the bed. Both hands found her breasts, kneading herself gently until orgasm hit her like an earthquake.

"TRIXXxxxxxxx!" resounded through the room as the shouted name devolved into an orgasmic hiss. As Hermione lay panting, Bellatrix shifted up and cuddled up against her. A recovering Hermione giggled along with Bellatrix as they held onto each other.

"I trust you've learned your lesson," Bellatrix raised her chin imperiously.

"Good god, you've made my toes curl," Hermione panted, gazing into Bellatrix' dark eyes while smiling. "I love you so very much," she muttered.

Bellatrix said nothing, but smirked and answered her declaration of love with an ever deepening kiss. Hermione was only to happy to cuddle a little longer, pressing her body against Trix'. Until she looked over her girlfriend's shoulder and saw the time on the clock from the past Bellatrix had gifted her on the nightstand. Quarter to nine.

Immediately, Hermione sprung to action. "OH GOD! We missed breakfast! We have class in fifteen minutes!" she yelped before slipping out of bed. "We still need to take a shower!"

"Hermie!" Bellatrix groaned. "Fuck class, it's not important."

Hermione didn't hear her. Instead, she was frantically looking around the room for the components of her school uniform which lay spread all over their private room, mixed in with those belonging to Bellatrix' uniform. Their room was a lovely private guest quarters with windows on three sides overlooking the lake and the forest in the distance. It had enough room for their big bed, dressers and two desks. While Hermione was picking up pieces of clothing, she passed Zipper's home.

Zipper's wasp hutch had been moved right along from Hermione's house, to the Catterborough Woodhouse and now to their private room at Hogwarts. Zipper was actually on the memory-foam underneath the upside down clothing hamper using his mandibles to shake a plastic ring with bells on it, happily ignoring all the fuss while playing with his fun toy.

Sighing while realizing that Hermione wouldn't come back to bed for cuddles, Bellatrix slipped out as well.

"Where are all our clothes?!" Hermione exclaimed in desperation.

"Probably where we left them last night?" Bellatrix replied after stepping to the washbasin to give herself a quick wash with cold water. "You were quite eager to lose them."

"Oh, god, why is my necktie up in the chandelier? How did it even get there?!" Hermione looked up with a pouty expression.

"Threw it over my shoulder yesterday," said Bellatrix while glancing up to the chandelier and feeling quite pleased with herself. "Zipper, go get it!"

Immediately, Zipper dropped his toy and teleported with a crack, appearing next to the chandelier and then teleported again, hovering in front of Hermione with the necktie in his mandibles. "Thank you," said Hermione while taking it from him. "Could have just accio'd it."

By now, Bellatrix had stepped over to the cupboard and produced a bag of sugarlumps. Zipper let out a few eager buzzes and sat waiting next to his food dish. "Zipper just wants to help and it's a good way to teach him tricks," said Bellatrix. She poured his dish full of sugarlumps and the giant wasp eagerly dipped his head in to consume the lot. While Zipper was eating, Bellatrix tied the harness around his thorax to attach the lead to later.

Dressed, washed, but unfortunately hungry, the girls walked through the halls of Hogwarts, headed to their first class of the day: Potions. Next to them, Zipper looked a bit grim at being leashed. "Yeah, I don't like it either, Zipper," said Bellatrix. "But leashed is the only way McGonagall would let you stay with us."

"To be fair, he does make some girls scream," said Hermione. "And there was that boy he wanted to sting."

"Cowardly bigots, all of them!" Bellatrix snorted. "They don't like him because he's different. If Zipper was a lapdog or a kitten, they would have loved him. And that stupid git threw a book at him! If someone threw a book in my face, I'd certainly hex him! And now he's stuck on a piece of rope all day and a harness which hampers his teleportation. How'd you like it if I cut off your legs for an entire day?"

Hermione let Bellatrix rant a little while washing up and getting dressed. They made it to Potions just in time and took their seats. As usual, Hermione was diligently at the ready with her notebook while Bellatrix continuously looked as if she didn't want to be there.

For Hermione, yet another sign that Bellatrix was an academically gifted genius revealed itself when she was sat next to her in Potions and, of course, partnered with her. Slughorn was droning on and on about a particularly nasty-to-brew potion, a draught of peace, to be precise. Slughorn had added caveats to the assignment, such as increased duration, inducing a certain level of sleepiness and the potion needed to be coloured red.

A draught of peace was difficult enough to brew without these caveats, as she had found out in her sixth year when partnered with Harry. Back then, she had barely managed to get it right. This assignment would be... tricky.

Next to her, Bellatrix was diligently writing notes, which pleased Hermione to no end: her young lover had been often bored in class and usually elected to mess about or make a nuisance of herself. Though Hermione loved Bellatrix to bits, she found her lack of focus to be more than a little vexing at the best of times.

Or so Hermione thought: a longer glance at the scroll Trix was scribbling on revealed the word 'Wendigo', as part of what seemed to be a bit of prose. Trix wasn't taking notes at all, but rather that she was working on one of her creepy stories during class!

Instantly irritated to no end, Hermione was about to whisper a remark when Bellatrix absentmindedly grabbed a smaller scroll, scribbled something on it and handed it to Hermione before she went back to the story she'd been working on.

Curious, Hermione unfurled the scroll and, to her shock, she found it to be a list of potion ingredients and, more shockingly, the ingredient ratio. After doing some quick calculations in her head, Hermione could only conclude that these numbers had to be correct. Furthermore, adding 13 grams of Scaly Pholiota into the mix would both increase the duration and colour the potion red. It was so obvious: why hadn't she seen it?!

This caused the young witch to gape at Bellatrix, who was again pensively working on the plot of her story: Trix had solved a problem in a half a minute which had stumped Hermione for days in her sixth year and she hadn't even been trying!

"Wake me up when we're ready to mix it," whispered Bellatrix. "Until then, I'll be working on this chase scene."

Hermione frowned. "You've just gave me the recipe. We should start mixing right now, Trix."

Bellatrix looked around the room. All the other students were still wracking their brains over getting the right formulae and mix-ratio. She then gave Hermione a grin. "But then we'll be done early and Slughorn will give us another assignment. I want to work on this chase scene."

"You should take this more seriously."

"Pfft, it's just Potions."

"Trix!"

"What?"

Some students were looking in their direction, but thankfully most of them were too busy figuring out the difficult recipe to notice their bickering. A frustrated Hermione sighed heavily. "Why won't you just do the assignment?!"

Bellatrix turned her gaze upward, offering one of those cheeky grins of hers. "Because it's boring as all hell, there's no challenge and I already know what the outcome will be," Bellatrix shrugged. "There's no goal other than 'do the assignment'. Hermie, I could brew this potion in my sleep! Why should I even bother?!"

"But… the assignment..." Hermione tried to think of a reason to prod Bellatrix into action, but was having some trouble.

"I swear, Hermie, if your answer is 'because it's there' I'm going to scream!"

It was at that point that Hermione wisely decided to keep her mouth shut and guessed she'd just have to sit there waiting around until it was time for the brewing to start. Unlike Trix, however, she had no stories to write and just sat in her chair looking around the classroom awkwardly.

It wasn't long until professor Slughorn stepped away from his lectern and was headed straight towards her. A touch of panic shot through Hermione: had he noticed she and Bellatrix were slacking? Well, if he was, she could simply give her the recipe Bellatrix had written up.

"Professor Slughorn," said Hermione, taking the moment to shoot a bit of a glare to Bellatrix who was still refusing to budge on doing the potions assignment, having her eyes glued to her notebook. "If this is about the assignment..."

"I, ah, no," spoke Slughorn with a rather hopeful smile plastered on his face. "I simply wanted to mention that the bi-weekly meeting of the Slug club is coming up and you two fine young ladies certainly qualify for membership. I would like to invite you both to..."

"No thanks," interrupted Bellatrix from in between scribbling sentences of whatever horror story she was working on.

Hermione frowned, sputtering a little. "T-trix."

Slughorn frowned as well. "Well, if you change your mind, you are welcome to join us next Saturday."

"I'm sure we won't," said Bellatrix, not even granting Slughorn a single segment of one eye.

Slughorn seemed to be a little deflated as he returned to his lectern and when he was out of earshot, Hermione shifted closer to Bellatrix. "Trix!" whispered Hermione. "It's a good opportunity to meet people and build a network."

Bellatrix did look up this time, giving Hermione an incredulous look before rolling her yes. "Pfft, come now. Haven't you figured out he's doing this all for himself? Besides, the only people who go to the Slugclub are fools too stupid to see they're being used and people who try to manipulate said fools. And I don't care much for either. Do you seriously want to waste our Saturday evening on that nonsense when we could be snogging under the stars at the Astronomy Tower instead?"

"Well, what do you want to do then?" Hermione said. "As you seem to have decided that Hogwarts is hogwash."

"I want to get through this final schoolyear as quick and as painless as possible and then I want to do things I actually like. I want to write. I want to finish my grandfather's book, I want to explore this new time and see the things which have changed. I want to reconnect with my family. I want to see the world... with you. Don't you see, Hermie? I'm finally free!"

"I..." Hermione started to say, but didn't really know what how to respond.

Bellatrix gave her a long, hard and somewhat sympathetic look. "I forgot about your... issues," said Bellatrix. "You're still stuck in a rut. You need to break the routine. What do you want? Have you ever asked yourself that? Time will keep on ticking whether you like it or not, you know?"

From another table, there were whispers. For a moment, Hermione thought the others were talking about them, until she could make out the names of potion ingredients. The wrong ones for this specific assignment.

Hermione sighed. "I haven't been myself since the war. I always wanted to see if I can change things for the better. I wanted to join the Ministry, but that path is now closed to me. Few companies will want to hire me because my name is tainted. I... honestly don't know what to do."

Tear welled up in her eyes again and Bellatrix was quick to lay a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, I didn't mean it like that," she said. "Hermie, becoming a Ministry drone and hoping to change things is a good way to end up in a burn-out."

"Funny. That's what your father said to me."

"Well, he's right," she smirked. "Hermie, you need to do it your own way, take control of your own life. Shout out to the world: 'Bugger you all, I am Hermione Granger, bitches! And I am better than the whole blummin' lot of you!"

That made Hermione giggle despite herself.

Thankfully, the brewing itself went without a hitch and Bellatrix spent the last fifteen minutes of Potions doing more writing. The next period was time for Advanced Herbology where professor Sprout had allowed Hermione and Bellatrix to work on a project of their own. Said project was attempting to grow some of the flowers they had found in the Fae Realm.

By now, all their applications to the LQB had been approved and both were considered accredited researchers. It had been in the papers, even, and it was quite nice to see her name appear in an article which put her in a positive light. With more and more creatures and plants from the Fae Realm showing up all the time, their already considerable fame was growing.

Unfortunately, due to her family's conflict with the Ministry, Hermione was not involved in the ongoing investigation of how any of these species could be potentially invasive. The point was rather moot, though, since these new species were now part of the wizarding world, like it or not.

Still, professor Sprout allowed them to attempt to grow the blue glowing Andromeda flowers in the greenhouse, as they had been deemed safe and seemed easy enough to grow. So far, they were coming in quite nicely. Hermione and Bellatrix had divided the flowers into six separate patches and varied the amount of water, fertilizer and light per patch. Bellatrix took something of an interest for now, and took note that the patch with the most water, least fertilizer and medium light was doing best, as it was the first patch where the vines and crawled up the wall and had started budding.

At least Bellatrix was paying attention. Until she was not. When Hermione asked her to jot down a few notes, she found that her girlfriend didn't respond. Turning around, Hermione found Bellatrix with her nose in her notebook again, quite unlikely to be taking notes on plant growth patterns. Hermione let out a sigh: Bellatrix had the attention span of a gnat when it came to school-related matters.

Hermione supposed they just had to agree to disagree and realized she'd probably have to learn to live with it if she wanted to finish the school year with her relationship unstrained.

At lunchtime, Hermione and Bellatrix decided to pick up lunch-packets at the Great Hall and have them at the greenhouse where it was nice and warm. They finished their sandwiches over some small talk while a momentarily unleashed Zipper was checking out some of the fragrant flowers near the entrance of the greenhouse.

"Watch out for the Fanged Geraniums, Zipper!" Bellatrix called out. A buzz from the other side of the greenhouse was a confirming reply.

Hermione sat back and unpacked her sandwich. "On the parapet facing the Quidditch patch. Mister Noseybonk dressed as a gardener," said Hermione.

Bellatrix frowned. "Bugger, missed that one. But did you see Lady Ladida trying to blend in with the prefects near the main hall?"

Of course, they were talking about the security forces Andromeda had hired and dispatched to Hogwarts to keep the yellow journos and other people with sinister intentions away from them. Andromeda had never shared the details with her, other than that it was some sort of magically PMC. So far they had identified some twenty-two different individuals and, though they never actually interacted with them, they had made sort of a game out of it to try to spot them during the day and had given them silly nicknames. Of course, right now, Hermione was more curious about something else.

"So," Hermione said. "Considering you've been so focused on that notebook of yours, the story you're working on must be coming along well."

"Hm," said Bellatrix. "Well, the Wendigo story isn't done yet, but I do have another one to share. Bit of a shortie."

Bellatrix chuckled as Hermione lay prone on her back on the bench they were sat on and put her head in her lap. A brief stroke through brown hair later and Hermione was ready for story-time. "Right," said Bellatrix. "I call this one 'The Door'."

"The Great Lake was like many Scottish lochs: deep, dark and ancient. With Hogwarts as a hub for magical power, the Great Lake itself had seen a lot of travel since the turn of the first millennium. Many a treasure hunter had been drawn to its waters in hopes of finding long lost valuables. Some had found great success: finding a chest of galleons washed off deck during a storm or a long lost magical artifact sunken down into the muck.

Morrigan Beaverdam was one such treasure hunters, as was her father before her. In fact, it was her father which found the aforementioned chest of galleons which allowed his family to buy a nice house in Hogsmeade. Still, Morrigan had promised herself that she would outshine her old father to make him proud of her.

So, Morrigan dove into the lake every single day after applying her bubble-head charm and scoured the depths of the lake in search of treasure. Unfortunately, her luck was not as great as her father's had been. Morrigan did find some interesting things: a few sunken coinpurses, a crate of old wine, the odd magical weapon or two. But the really big treasures still eluded her.

Determined as ever, Morrigan swam deeper into the lake than ever before, thinking today would be the day that she would literally strike gold. The darkness became all enveloping and the small magelight charm circling around her head did little to dispel the darkness ahead, below and above her. In fact, she was almost startled when her feet touched the bottom of the lake and she almost swam head-first into the wooden hull of a sunken ship.

It took her a few moments to realize what she had just found. Could this be the day her fortunes changed? She studied the ship briefly: it was a wooden sailing vessel, looking to be at least three centuries old and lay with its hull upturned into the silt. She tried to swim around the sunken hulk, trying to find a name but failing to do so. When she approached the other side of the sunken ship, she paused.

There was a door in the side of the hull.

Not only was this door located on a place in the hull where no door should ever be to keep any vessel seaworthy, but it was a modern wooden door which wouldn't look out of place at a contemporary living room. Morrigan lay her hand on the wooden door and found it to be in pristine condition, warm to the touch even.

Morrigan was baffled and swam to the bow of the hull to lay her hands on the wood. Completely petrified, unlike the door.

Morrigan swam back to where the door was and let herself sink to the bottom of the lake. As she approached the door, she was startled to see it being slightly ajar.

A touch of fear shot through her body when the wooden door was starting to move ever so lightly, opening inward. Morrigan's was overcome with a mix of pure dread and curiosity in equal amount. There was a darkness beyond the door, even darker than the water surrounding her. Something... something was moving in the darkness.

Suddenly, the darkness shifted and Morrigan was stunned to see mountains of gold beyond the door. Easily ten times the gold her father had gathered. This was what she had been waiting for! This was her chance!

But as she was about to dive head-first through the door, she paused. Something was off. The gold... shimmered. As if something else existed in the exact same place as the gold and were shifting into each other. An unnatural fear overcame her as she felt a current tugging on her body, pulling her towards the door.

Morrigan thrashed and kicked with her legs, desperately trying to get away from this unnatural door. Once she not longer looked at the door, the current holding her body suddenly vanished. Morrigan kicked and screamed as she desperately swam back towards the shore. The girl never dared to look back, nor stop because she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being chased even if her pursuer was not as fast as her. Her muscles ached and her lungs burned when she finally emerged from the surface of the water and allowed herself to collapse onto the shores of the lake.

Morrigan never went near the water ever again."

Hermione, having closed her eyes while listening to Bellatrix' voice. Over the weeks, she had gotten so much more confident in her writing abilities and it showed through the passionate way she read the story. "Nice to have a story where the protagonist survives for once," said Hermione.

"Hm," nodded Bellatrix. "I suppose sometimes having to live with the fear of your encounter can be just as bad though, if not more."

Bellatrix fell silent for a moment, realizing what she had said to someone with a very real trauma. "I didn't mean..."

"Ah, it's fine," said Hermione, opening her eyes to gaze in her girlfriend's.

"Are you still afraid of him?" Bellatrix asked. "Rodolphus, I mean..."

Memories started to resurface again. Memories of torture, of war, of loss. She quickly pushed them down. "It's odd, really," Hermione shrugged. "I've went through so much during the war and before. I don't know why, but... Rodolphus Lestrange was just a follower. A lackey. He was the Dark Lord's chosen, his most favoured, but also... just a regular brute. I shouldn't be afraid of him, but... the thought of potentially seeing him again... it keeps me up at night."

"He can't get to you here in Hogwarts," said Bellatrix. "He can't get to you at Catterborough Woodhouse. And knowing him, he wouldn't touch the muggle world with a ten-foot barge pole. His time will run out, Hermie."

"I hope so," smiled Hermione. Honestly, she wasn't so sure.

Finally, there was a subject which had Bellatrix' full undivided attention and dedication. Finally, there was a subject for which Bellatrix put her notebook down.

Well, Hermione supposed it wasn't exactly a subject, but since it was technically a school activity, she decided to count it as such.

The 'subject' in question was nothing less than Quidditch. Practice, of course. On the first day of school, Bellatrix had been approached by Vicky Montesque, the Slytherin team captain and Keeper. The Slytherin team had been doing particularly bad this year and Bellatrix' legendary status as a star chaser caused Vicky to ask, or more accurately, to beg her to join the team.

Turns out that there was a lot of truth to the legend.

Hermione had joined her fellow Gryffindors on the spectator's bench to watch a 'friendly' practice match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. In front of her, the teams were in the middle of a play-off and round her, the Gryffindors were chatting quite nervously. It seemed that the Slytherin team was playing rather aggressively compared to earlier in the year and the Gryffindor team was having some trouble keeping up. Bellatrix herself was zipping over the pitch with a speed she had rarely seen, making turns so sharp that Hermione was convinced that it would have thrown Ron off his broom if he tried.

Bellatrix was zig-zagging in between the players, having a rear guard of two Beaters keeping the bludger and other opposing beaters off her. Next to her, Zipper was eager to join the fun, attempting to fly off to join the players and only being kept from doing so by the straining leather lead tied around the wooden railing in front of her. "Calm down, Zipper," Hermione said, pulling the wasp back to her and putting him on her lap. Tickling him between the wings thankfully calmed him down a little.

Zipper on the whole seemed to be particularly restless and Hermione could only imagine the wasp being frustrated at being tied down. He seemed a bit distracted at the moment though, and a glint caught Hermione eye. Curious, she reached over to the wasp's mandibles. "What have you got there, Zipper?" Hermione asked.

The wasp turned around, eager to show his new toy to Hermione and dropped it in her hand. To Hermione's utter horror, she was now holding the match' golden snitch. Hermione gasped and quickly folded her hands over it. Fortunately, the Gryffindors surrounding her all had her eyes on the match and were too busy cursing Bellatrix' winning streaking that they didn't pay too much attention to her anymore. Hermione swiftly pocketed the snitch and grit her teeth for any incoming response from her benchmates. Seconds seemed like centuries, but after nobody said a word for nearly minutes, Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. Of course, now Zipper was trying to stuff his head down her pocket to get his prize back, but he was quickly distracted by being given his squeaky ball to play with. Hermione stoically resumed watching the match and felt a pang of guilt when she saw the seekers of both teams frantically scouring the playing field for the now pocketed snitch.

In front of her, Bellatrix intercepted a duo of chasers, she twisted her broom one-eighty degrees around without changing speed or direction right before smashing in between them. The manoeuvre surprised the two Gryffindor chasers so much that Bellatrix could easily snatch the Quaffle from them. Bellatrix made a quick second one-eighty turn and made sharp bank, diving towards the ground and, right before she would crash, pulled up so hard that she was almost shooting up vertically.

She heard a collective groan going through her fellow Gryffindors where Bellatrix, once again, with her hands on the Quaffle, changed direction towards the three hooped goals at the end. The Slytherin chasers took formation and the group moved as one, staunch and fearless behind Bellatrix. Hermione felt a smile form when the Slytherin broom phalanx shot towards the goal hoops like an airborne steamroller.

Faced with this relentless onslaught, the Gryffindor team scattered with the exception of one foolish lad who sped straight towards Bellatrix.

Playing 'chicken' with Bellatrix Black.

Hermione hissed through her teeth. That was a rather poor decision on his part.

It didn't take long for the boy to decide that Bellatrix was not backing down and veered off to avoid a head-on collision. Bellatrix zoomed past him, causing his broom to spiral out of control and eventually sending him crashing into the ground.

To her endless joy, the boy Bellatrix had sent hurling into the ground was none other than Cormac McLaggen. Hermione didn't even know how that was possible that he was somehow still at Hogwarts despite being held back so many times, until she realized that his family was 'big in the Ministry' and that being likely a factor. By the way he was swearing and throwing his helmet to the ground, Cormac was none to happy about being 'Bella-blitzed' as the Quidditch school commentators had coined.

In the meantime, the broom phalanx had almost reached the goal and Bellatrix had her mind set on the center hoop. The keeper had seen this and was doing his best to block her. So focused was he, that he never noticed that Bellatrix suddenly and unexpectedly tossed the Quaffle to Kenneth Pucey, a small and nimble junior chaser, who immediately veered off and tossed the Quaffle through the left-most ring in a manner of seconds.

Hermione stood up to cheer loudly. Though it was Kenneth whom had scored the goal, everybody knew that the victory belonged to Bellatrix. Behind her and around her, the Gryffindors were giving her dirty looks for cheering for Slytherin and glared daggers at her back. Hermione cared not, since she was here only to cheer on her girlfriend. To be honest, she quite understood: these were fans who were seeing their hopes for an easy victory at the end of the month dashed now that Slytherin was making an unexpected comeback in a rather dramatic fashion.

The siren signifying the end of the practice match blared across the field and the broom-mounted players started to head back to the backstage player dressing room. But before returning, Bellatrix swung by one her broom to treat Hermione to a wink. Hermione, in turn, blew her a kiss. This earned her another set of glares.

Hermione said nothing, but smiled rather smugly before gathering Zipper and walking right past them without as much as a care in the world. A few moments later, she entered the dressing room assigned to Slytherin and found the team in the process of cheering, hugging and high-fiving. Bellatrix herself slapped Kenneth on the back before grasping both hands with Vicky.

"Oi, Gryffindor on deck!" shouted one of the Slytherins.

"Hermione's alright," Vicky shouted over the boisterous celebrants. "Let her pass."

Bellatrix broke off from the group and, together with Hermione, found a more quiet place near the showers. Bellatrix made a rather striking figure in her Quidditch robes draped over her leather protective gear. Sweaty skin, messy curls, some patches of dirt on her skin. Hermione quite enjoyed the view.

"Well, look at you," said Hermione. "You've turned the Slytherin team around almost single-handedly."

"I did, didn't I?" Bellatrix winked. "Truth is, none of them are bad players and Vicky isn't a bad leader. They've been so demotivated by mounting losses that it became a downward spiral. They just needed some victories to get them back into shape. Slytherins are cunning and daring players, when motivated proper."

"I've seen your aerial acrobatics," Hermione chuckled, letting Zipper fly off to land on top of Bellatrix' head. From this perch, Zipper stood vigil over the entire dressing room. Around them, players were starting to head off to the showers. "And knocking Cormac McLaggen off his broom! You're better than most players I've seen, and that includes Ron and Harry."

"Did I?" Bellatrix frowned. "When was this?"

"Right before Kenneth scored that last goal. He was headed straight for you..."

"Oh, was that him?" Bellatrix snorted. "Well, he's a twat anyway. I noticed him staring at us during Potions this morning. Glaring mostly at me, though, while drooling over your tits."

"Ugh, don't remind me," Hermione rolled her eyes. "I wanted to slam my head into the wall when I heard he was still around."

"Don't do that," said Bellatrix, smirking. "Slam his head into the wall instead."

For a moment, Hermione had the mental image using a Strength-charm to bounce him right out of the window and into a filth-filled rubbish dumpster. A good idea that was hampered by the fact that Hogwarts did not use dumpsters and that such behaviour was usually frowned upon. Honestly, sometimes being polite was such a bore.

Too late did Hermione realize that Bellatrix was fiddling with her wand while trying to keep out of sight. A nasty jet of water came shooting through the room and hit Hermione square in the face. She let out a righteous shriek and tried to get out of the way of the jet, only for the jet to bend right along, drenching her even more. In the background, she could hear the Slytherins laughing with joy.

It didn't take long for her to figure out that Bellatrix had magically bent a water jet from a faucet in the showers to target Hermione. "TRIX!" Hermione shouted. "What the hell?!"

The big grin on Bellatrix' face said it all. "Oh, dear," she chuckled, guiding Hermione to a separate area of the showers. Showers, at the Quidditch pitch, were mostly private as teams were co-ed, so Bellatrix pushed her into one of the shower booths and applied a silencing charm. "You're all wet now. Your clothes are going to have to come off."

Hermione shook her head. "Trix..." she started.

"Hush," Bellatrix demanded. "Hermie, you might be all wet now, but trust me... I'm going to make you even more wet."

"Vixen," Hermione rolled her eyes at Bellatrix' awful joke. "If you wanted to have sex in the showers, you should have just asked before ruining my uniform."

"This is more fun," grinned Bellatrix, quickly undressing both herself and Hermione.

Hermione hissed when her bare back pressed against the cold tiles, only for her lips to be captured and savaged. "God, I love you," Hermione grit her teeth when Bellatrix' hands roamed over her body, soaping her up.

"I know," Bellatrix gave a throaty chuckle. "In fact, I love me too."

Still, Hermione wouldn't just simply forgive. No, Bellatrix would have to pay. Surprising her now equally soaped up girlfriend, Hermione pushed into her, pressing her back against the shower tiles now. A questioning look became a blissful smile as the two of them stood underneath the shower head. With grim determination, Hermione hand slid over Bellatrix' toned stomach. Ever downward until her fingers slid in between luscious folds. Instantly, a sharp intake of breath followed. The curly-haired witch closed her eyes and let her head roll back as Hermione assaulted her with long and gentle strokes.

"Who's all wet now, huh?" sounded a rather smug Hermione.