Masquerade Act Three: The Veneer of Thalia and Melpomene
The Thirty Second Dance: Once Upon a Dream
I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream
I know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam
And I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem
But if I know you, I know what you'll do
You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream- Once Upon a Dream, Sleeping Beauty
Hermione was in her apartment, reading a heavy text at her table when a knock came at her front door. Getting up with a hint of confusion for who could it possibly be when she wasn't expecting any guests, she opened it up and found Ginny standing there, hands on her hips.
"Uh, Ginny," Hermione said, throw off by her friend's appearance. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to apologize, in person," the red head clarified, pushing her way past Hermione's frozen figure.
"Sure, come in. But what for?" Hermione asked in confusion as she let her friend in.
"For doing what I did, all those nights ago."
Hermione shook her head at this. "If it's because Harry chewed you out, which I told him not to do, then don't worry about it. It's all water under a bridge. I can't even remember too much of it to be honest."
"Yes, but, I just felt bad," Ginny commented as she settled down at Hermione's table, glancing casually at the book Hermione had been studying. "It was a rotten thing what I did. I shouldn't have tried to get you drunk in order to get you to slip up on something regarding your relationship with Ron."
Hermione listened to Ginny with one ear as she hurried over to her kitchen to pull out some china in order to prepare the girl some tea. "Yes, well, while you shouldn't have done that, but like I said, it's all over." Using her wand she was able to heat up the tea quickly and pour it into the cups. She carried them over to the table.
"I was just concerned about you. I know you have a tendency to keep things inside and it's not healthy. I'm here for you as a friend. And I know that I will gladly help you talk out your issues. Like the ones with Bellatrix."
Hermione furrowed her brows; she couldn't recall talking about Bellatrix with Ginny when she was drunk. "What do you mean?" she asked cautiously as she took her cup and blew on it so she could take a sip.
"Well...I wasn't as drunk as you... and ugh, well, you told me some things," at this Ginny seemed a bit distressed.
Hermione's cheeks colored preemptively. What kind of things had she said? "Like what?" she said in a small voice, taking a shaky sip of her tea this time.
Ginny stared down at her cup, hands wrapped around it. She looked to be trying to put words together. Hermione only grew more disquieted with each passing second. What could have been so bad that the usually gregarious and impulsive girl was thinking over her words like this?
"I don't know...look, I don't know what's going on between you and Bellatrix but-"
Hermione's stomach churned. Had she told Ginny about the tingles? Merlin, if she did it would be all over! "What did I tell you. Just tell me what I said in exact words." Hermione didn't want to wait around for Ginny to finish speaking in her roundabout manner.
"Eh, well, you were telling me how you felt bad because it was of how you enjoyed spending time with Bellatrix that it had brought an end to your and Ron's relationship."
Hermione leaned back into her seat with a relieved sigh. So it seemed she hadn't said anything incriminating. Still, saying this surely had raised flags in Ginny's mind and so Hermione had to explain. "Yes...that is true. I know it might sound bad-"
"Hermione, it's okay," Ginny reached over a warm hand and placed it on the brunette's shoulder, her eyes calm and full of care for her friend. "I sort of gathered that you enjoyed spending time with her. You weren't exactly subtle. Whenever you would talk about the progress or activities the two of you had done together, your eyes would light up."
"Oh." Hermione felt her ears burn and she looked down in mild mortification. Had she really been so easily readable? No wonder Ron had always been so upset when Hermione talked about the program in what she had thought to be a neutral manner.
"I didn't understand that at first, but...hey, it's your life. And you always see the good in people, so I'm sure if you can see some good in her, even after all she's done, then it's fine. I suppose." Ginny finished a tad awkwardly. The girl was trying but it was still hard for her to fully accept Hermione's new relationship with the older witch.
"It's just complicated...it's...well, a lot changed, you know," Hermione fished for a good way to explain why she felt this way; why she was comfortable being around the raven haired witch where before even the mere mention of her name had been enough to cast shadows on Hermione's face.
"I bet. With that stupid soul spell, gosh, I can't believe she corrupted your freedom like that. Now you're stuck with her for the rest of your life until you reverse it." Ginny tapped on the open book between them. "Are you looking for ways to get rid of it?"
"Yea," Hermione admitted, feeling more at ease discussing this and not her new found relationship with a certain ex-criminal. "But it's tough going. There are so many dangers to removing the spell. Everything has to be done to the precisely minute detail."
"If anyone can do it, it's you. You're a perfectionist," Ginny gave Hermione a reassuring smile. "And this way you can finally focus on your life without that extra baggage. And without those..uh, what did you call them?" Ginny scrunched up her nose as she thought of the right phrasing, her eyes going up to the ceiling. "Those tingles?"
"Tingles?" Hermione squeaked out as her eyes opened wide. Curse her and her stupid drunk mouth! She had mentioned the unmentionable to Ginny! The tea cup in her hand shook.
"You don't remember that either?" Ginny rubbed the back of her neck in discomfort. "Never mind, it's probably not important. You were saying how you felt it when you touched her, but you were really drunk, so...I didn't take it too seriously." At least the red head had some decency to notice that this was something extremely touchy for the brunette and thus was trying to make the most of the situation.
Hermione wanted to bury her face in her hands. How was she going to explain her way with this? First, nearly spilling her newly found feelings for the older witch to her friend, then coming home drunk to Bellatrix and waking up in her night robe the next day before parading herself like that in front of several aurors and Harry. Dear Merlin, she was losing her grip. That was it. No more alcohol. She couldn't have any; couldn't trust herself to not do something embarrassing while under it's influence.
"Hermione...?" Ginny softly asked, noticing her friend's sphacelus state. "If you need...if something is going on...if you need to talk to someone..." Ginny trailed off, not wanting to verbalize what she was suspecting to spare the girl's face. It looked like she was overheating already from shame.
"I'm fine. Everything's okay," Hermione said but it sounded more like she was reassuring herself. And in indeed she was. As long as she reversed the spell then everything would go back to normal. "But thank you for asking and offering." She squeezed her friend's hand.
If Hermione thought that having the soul spell book would make things easier, it was a derisory and hopeful thought. It only helped a little. The text was written in a hard to decipher way, and it took them weeks on end to translate it into something they understood. And they had to be very careful with those translations, otherwise one slip up and their souls could be painfully wretched from their bodies. Then they would be stuck wandering the earth soulless and sucking up the souls of those who were still alive. That was not a pleasant outcome and it almost discouraged Hermione from even trying to remove the soul spell. But the thought of her rising attraction to Bellatrix and the implications of it was concerning enough that she threw herself into the work.
And it wasn't just in the waking world that Hermione had this issue, for even now her dreams were slowly being corrupted by the other woman's presence. They started off innocently enough, with her and Bellatrix partaking in the pleasantries of tea or idle chatter that really didn't make much sense once the Gryffindor awoke but which felt profoundly important whilst under the hold of sleep. Those dreams were calm and idyllic and often took place in wondrous places like fields of flowers or forests or libraries or parts of Hogwarts. All of Hermione's favorite haunts.
When Hermione first realized she was having these dreams, she had been concerned. Why was she having them? And why was she so happy in them? She'd wake up with a small smile on her lips and the last vestiges of the dark witch's voice in her ears.
Hermione grew worried as each and every night she would repeatedly visit a dream state in where Bellatrix could be found. Hermione knew these dreams were somehow linked to her growing forbidden attraction for the older witch, which she had rationalized was all part of the soul spell ( and maybe a bit of admiration for the raven haired witch's smarts) and her theory proved true when the dreams underwent a paradigm shift.
Whereas they had started off with the two of them sitting far away from each other, almost comically far, they slowly ended up getting closer and closer with each passing night. Hermione still remembered the first dream she had had, in which she and Bellatrix had stood at opposite ends of the woods, screaming at each other about something, neither seeing the other but knowing she was there. But by the time a month had passed they were roughly at field length to each other, mere dots of color. And then another month had passed and they were walking a length of a bus away from each other, talking in calm and pleasant voices. Here Bellatrix was like the one Hermione had first meet in the afterlife. Caustic but caring and mind innocent of the crimes she had wrought.
Hermione was ashamed to admit that she almost craved these dreams. They made her feel like the world was at peace, like everything was perfect, a light bubbling feeling entering her veins and making her sigh happily. But she knew she should be wary of these dreams, should be fighting them, because they only drew her into this attraction she had and she couldn't let it grow. She couldn't be engaging with an ex-Death Eater and besides, it wasn't a real attraction just phantom feelings brought by the soul spell. Having the leeway of the soul spell, allowed Hermione to (shamefully) indulge more in these innocent fantasies. However, it was when they took a more mature turn that she began to really fear these feelings forced upon her.
On month three, she and Bellatrix were now so close in the dreams, that they walked brushing shoulders and hands against one another. It made dream Hermione's cheeks flare. They had never touched before, and as the other witch's limber fingers wrapped around Hermione's hand, the brunette found herself spun around till she was facing the other. Eyes opening wide, she stood frozen as Bellatrix kissed her lightly on the cheek, pulling away with a grin at Hermione's steaming face.
Hermione had woken up with a shock at that, her cheek tingling still from the phantom touch. This was when she knew that her attraction had reached a threshold from which it could no longer return from. Swallowing down a lump in her throat of anxiousness of the implication of this new development, Hermione swore she would throw herself into her work until a solution could be found because she was scarily losing control rapidly in the dream world and this was sure to translate to the real world in her unconscious motivations.
And after three months had passed, they finally managed to figure out the ritual to the spell. It required many ingredients and many chants and wand maneuvers. But Bellatrix was very sure with dark magic and so she guided Hermione through the process. If done correctly, it would draw their souls out, along with the bond, and have the souls be purified and the bond shattered before their souls would return to their bodies. And after all the smoke and the fanfare was over, they got what they wanted.
It was done. The spell was cracked. A blue string was connected from their chests, hovering in front of them and bathing them in blue light. The string was attached, but as they watched, slowly it began to disintegrate and the blue flecks floated up into the air before they disappeared completely. The blue light began to fade as did the magical wind that had surrounded them.
They stood there a while, not saying anything, just absorbing the feeling of not being connected to each other. There was a lightness to Hermione's body that she hadn't felt before; that she hadn't realized could exist. "We finally did it," she spoke softly, as Bellatrix took to examining her own arms, feeling them for any last traces of the magic. Satisfied that they were clear, her black eyes lit up in joy.
"Yes, we did," Bellatrix smiled back, something so pure that it made Hermione's heart squeeze. She had never seen the other smile genuinely, usually the older woman wearing smug or arrogant looks. But she liked it. Liked the way it made Bellatrix's eyes crinkle up, made her face look younger, made her look more alive. She wanted to see Bellatrix smile more. "So that means we should no longer be burdened by these odd feelings." She outstretched both hands and Hermione took them in her own, expecting the bliss of absence. But her smile fell when she realized there wasn't the emotional vacuum she had been expecting.
Bellatrix must have felt it too because her eyes immediately got broody and she retracted her hands. She didn't have to say anything. Hermione knew. The spell reversal didn't change how we feel. That means it wasn't the soul spell that caused this...that means...these emotions must be genuine...and I...Hermione swallowed heavily on this and bolted out of the room, feeling tears press in the back of her eyes.
This wasn't happening.
This could not be happening.
She didn't stop running until she made it back to her apartment where she collapsed face first onto her bed and stayed there, trying to drown out these thoughts with rationalizations, rationalizations that sounded weak. She sobbed too, for everything that had happened, for what now awaited her.
This couldn't be. This couldn't be. Why had this happened? She couldn't have feelings for an ex-death eater!
But she had no answers. Only tears.
Somewhere along the way she must have fallen asleep from emotional exhaustion, because she was having the oddest dream. A dream that felt so real.
A familiar voice was ricocheting around her head. "You already know what this all is. It's l~o~v~e!" The voice sang gleefully. "But since you're too stubborn to accept it, or to see it for what it truly is, then I'll guess I'll have to show you."
And with that, the dark background of her mind slowly filled in, sort of like a puzzle. First came the colors, splotches of cream and beige, of dark rich carpet. They painted an incomplete picture, but as sounds joined in, noises of chatter and of dancing feet, Hermione slowly came to realize where she was.
"The dance hall," she whispered to herself, just as the last part of the picture became complete. She was standing right in the middle of it, surrounded by dancers on all sides. And while the sounds of chatter and dancing feet continued the dancers stood immobile, in silence, waiting for something.
And she was wearing her dress, the splendid white, of when she had danced with Bellatrix in the dance hall in order to save her from Dorian's spell. (But what was she doing here? She was confused. Hadn't she already gone through with this?)
A group of dancers parted to her right and she turned on her heel to see who it was that was approaching her. It was Bellatrix, wearing that same dark black outfit, and that devilish mask of hers, her earrings glimmering and giving off a dark radiance. Her black lips were twisted up in a cocky grin and she eyed Hermione like she was going to be devoured. Hermione swallowed at the sight, overcome by how amazing the other looked in her clothes, and at the heat coming from those eyes. They were dark and smoldering and they made Hermione feel flushed. They made her want to take off her clothes so as to seek some respite.
"Hello Hermione," Bellatrix said in a dreamy voice as she glided over to the brunette. "Isn't this such an enchanting night for a dance?" Her hands grasped those of Hermione's and the younger girl found herself losing her train of thoughts about this odd dream. All she wanted to do was dance with Bellatrix. "I am glad to share it with someone who is not just as, but even more, enchanting."
Bellatrix's sweet words were swimming in Hermione's head and she felt light headed at the praise. "You flatter me," she found herself saying, giggling like a little girl at the end, not that she could help it. Her body had lost it's strength in obeying her; it was like clay in the older woman's hands. Her feet were unsteady and her heart fluttering.
"Shall we?" Bellatrix positioned their hands accordingly and on her first step, music began to flow from the orchestra. The dancers around them, men and women in alternating black or white pairs, took to their feet and began to swirl around them as Hermione and Bellatrix twirled on the dance floor.
The older woman was in the lead, twisting Hermione this and that way, manipulating her moves. They waltzed smoothly across the dance floor, the light in the room following them minutely, the other waltzing dancers mimicking the steps. The dancers clothes began to change from black to white, or white to black in measure to the music.
For some reason Hermione was able to keep up; she knew the moves and she felt she knew this song, but she didn't know why. The melody filled her body and made it move almost as if controlling her. She was like a puppet on a puppeteer's strings.
"Do you remember?" Bellatrix had begun to speak, her voice almost more melodic and hypnotizing than the song.
"Remember what?" Hermione asked, a touch breathlessly. It was hard to concentrate on words.
"Our last dance?"
"Yes, I do," Hermione nodded her head as Bellatrix lead them on a turn. And then another and another, until Hermione's head was spinning, her surroundings a blur of music and bright light. All that she knew was she had to hold onto the dark witch or else she'd spin off into oblivion; be lost in a crowd of faceless.
"Remember how we almost kissed?" At this Bellatrix dropped Hermione down for a dip, before pulling her back up. Hermione found herself practically on top of the other, their faces inches away, her hands splayed across Bellatrix's shoulders, trying to find grounding there. They had stopped dancing but everything was still spinning, and all that Hermione could make out was the other's face, and her all too tempting lips. She wanted to see more of Bellatrix's face, wanted to run her hands and lips across it. With shaking hands she grasped the edges of the mask, Bellatrix's own hands rising to match, and slowly the two of them slipped each other's masks off.
Bellatrix's familiar face looked back at her, her eyes heavily lidded and Stygian. Hermione's breathing rate increased and she dropped the mask in her hand, as if the unveil, so simple in its action, held some sort of weight to it that she couldn't understand. With trembling fingers she traced Bellatrix's jawline, taking in the feel of her soft skin. Her hands traveled upwards and settled somewhere in her black curls. Bellatrix's eyes followed Hermione's motions curiously and patiently, knowing what it was the brunette wanted before the brunette herself did.
The world around Hermione seemed to spin uncontrollably, going even faster. The music pounding even louder. She didn't know what was going on anymore. Only Bellatrix stayed steady under her hands.
And all Hermione knew was that she was going to melt if she didn't kiss Bellatrix, her hands shaking with want.
"Do you want to amend that?" Bellatrix asked seductively and it was all Hermione needed to hear. Her eyes began to close slowly as she brought her mouth closer to Bellatrix, guiding the other's head with her hand. She felt like her heart was going to burst out of her chest.
The moment their lips meet, Hermione knew she was addicted. Bellatrix's lips were soft and full and they fit her mouth perfectly. She couldn't help the moan that slipped free. It felt so good to finally do this. She wanted more. And more.
A hand on the small of her back supported her, Bellatrix's other hand coming up to cup Hermione's cheeks as their lips began to move in increased fervor. Hermione could feel the heat of the kiss affecting her; her body was growing hotter and hotter and she knew she had to do something to alleviate that. "More...more," she begged between gasps, her hands coming over to Bellatrix's shoulders, clawing at them, trying to get her to do something.
"Gladly, pet," Bellatrix answered, kissing down from the corner of Hermione's mouth, down her neck, to her collarbone, all these kisses searing hot and making Hermione burn inside all the more. She threw her head back so that the other could have more access.
Bellatrix took the opportunity to suck hard on a spot at the base of Hermione's neck. "Ah," Hermione panted, her hands unable to stay still. They tangled in the dark witch's raven locks, holding her there, holding onto her like a lifeline. Hermione could feel her knees getting weaker. She had forgotten where she was, nothing else mattered to her in this moment then getting her relief. It was like the rest of the world had disappeared.
"Go lower," she prompted in desperation and Bellatrix did, her head slowly going down, kissing a path from Hermione's neck to the top of her breasts, her hands ghosting down the brunette's sides and sending shivers down her back. Now Bellatrix was out of skin to kiss, Hermione's dress covering the rest of her body. Still she descended downwards, her face now hovering directly in front of the apex of Hermione's thighs, her hands resting possessively on her hips.
"My my, it looks like this dress is in my way. What should I do hmm?" she drawled coyly, taking the front of the material between her teeth and snapping it back. Hermione could feel the heat of Bellatrix's lips through the fabric and she held back a whimper. So close. Yet so far.
"Rip it off, just rip it off," she panted out, excitement making it hard for her to say this calmly.
"As you command," Bellatrix hummed and dragged her hands down to the back to the top of Hermione's shoulders as she rose to find the dress's zipper. Her fingers touched upon it and she began to take her time as she pulled it down. Hermione opened her eyes to see what was taking so long and saw that Bellatrix was teasing her with her pace deliberately.
"Bellatrix," she whined. "Don't play with me like that."
But the older witch merely chuckled, a sound that Hermione wanted to swallow up and so she did, kissing the other hard, finding something to occupy herself with while Bellatrix continued to work the zipper until it was all the way down. Then she gently began to push the dress down Hermione's shoulders until the brunette was only left with her bra on her upper half, the cool air making goosebumps erupt onto her skin.
The dress continued to move downwards, until it pooled around Hermione's legs. She felt incredibly exposed, but also incredibly aroused. She was finally going to be touched, to get what she wanted. And all she wanted was the feel of the other on every inch of her skin. The feel of her inside her.
Hermione pulled her mouth away to draw breath and Bellatrix took this moment to suck on the same spot she had been sucking on before while her hand trailed down Hermione's smooth stomach and rested on where her underwear was, other hand resting on the small of her back.
Hermione wiggled her hips to remind the older woman of her job and with another chuckle, Bellatrix's hand bypassed the sheer fabric. At first touch, Hermione felt such a sharp spike of arousal that she woke up.
She was momentarily disoriented, wondering what she was doing lying on sheets, face buried in her pillow in a dark room, arousal flowing through her veins. Wasn't she just in a ballroom and-? It dawned on her what just had happened. She had been having a dream, a very naughty one at that, and of Bellatrix of all people.
No, this is wrong. This is so wrong. There must have- my mind must have been mistaken. Why would I have a dream on her? Was this because of what happened earlier?Why would I do those things with her? And why was I so turned on? A thousand thoughts ran through her head, none which made her feel easy.
Hermione could feel panic settle in and she shakily removed her hand from where it had been lodged knuckle deep inside her. It came back wet and sticky.
Was I masturbating in my sleep? Hermione swallowed down a choked sob. What was wrong with her?
Disgusted with herself, she stumbled out of bed, making her way in the dark to the bathroom. She felt out of odds and still dangerously turned on, half tempted to finish the job that dream Bellatrix had started despite Hermione's huge sense of wrong shrouding it.
She splashed some cold water on her face, trying to regain some sense of control. The water only helped to sharpen her realizations and she let out a groan. Did she like Bellatrix? More than bloody like. Just check your wet panties to see how much you 'like' her. A dark voice in the back of her head said.
Hermione stared at her frightened reflection in the mirror. Her hair was disheveled, she still had the clothes on that she had fallen asleep in and on her neck...was that a bruise? She pushed some hair aside and peered at it closer. Where had she gotten it from? The longer she pondered over it, the more she didn't like the answer. Shit. Don't mean to tell me this is the hickey I got in the dream? But how the bloody hell would that be possible?
It was almost like magic...Hermione's nostrils flared angrily as a single word came to mind.
"Dorian."
That night when Bellatrix went to sleep, it was with much on her mind. All of it having to do with Hermione. They had worked hard to reverse the soul spell, but it hadn't worked. And that was because they still could feel those mysterious tingles whenever they touched. And Bellatrix still had the infuriating need for the other's company. Had the want to spend...bloody hell, (she sighed at this as she admitted it) more time with Hermione.
It's not the soul spell, which can only mean one thing...that I have feelings for her. That I fancy her. Bloody hell. I never thought such a day would come when I, a reputed death eater with a strong distaste for muggleborns, would fall in love with not only a muggleborn, but one of the golden trio, the very person who helped bring Voldemort down. Not to mention she's bloody half my age.
Bellatrix had flopped down onto her bed sheets in despair at this. She didn't want to admit it, but it was true. She couldn't keep denying it any longer. But if Hermione feels the tingles...does that mean she also fancies me?
Get a grip, who in their right mind would fancy a killer? Sneered a voice in her head and Bellatrix heaved out a sigh. "Oh bugger this all. Maybe I should have just stayed in that blasted afterlife," she lamented to the dark room around her. Surely that would be easier to deal with than this thing that was going on between her and Hermione. And then to spare herself from any more mental anguish due to her unrelenting thoughts, she closed her eyes and tried to go to sleep.
But sleep was a long time coming, her thoughts not leaving her, tormenting her. Just when she was on the cusp of drifting off, a voice rang out in her head.
"Love, love," it chanted. It sounded familiar but she couldn't quite place it. "You can see it, but you won't say it."
Bellatrix sat up in bed, huffing in annoyance. "Bloody hell, I can't get any sleep like this."
"Me either," came a voice from the dark, causing the dark witch to startle badly.
"Who- show yourself!" She got out of her bed, hands curling defensively by her sides. Had someone come to kill her? Get her back for all those crimes she had committed? It must have been Shivers, that bastard. He couldn't wait to get his hands on her and hurt her again.
A young woman stepped out of the shadows, coming into the light of where moonlight filtered in through the windows. She had a distraught expression on her face. And swayed unsteadily on her feet.
"Hermione?" Bellatrix questioned. "What are you doing here at this hour? And drunk no less. Are you looking to embarrass yourself again?"
"No...I just had to talk to you," Hermione stumbled over and Bellatrix caught her as the girl tripped on something and would have fallen flat on her face if Bellatrix hadn't rounded the bed and reached for her.
The brunette smelled heavily of spice and liquor and she was hot, her skin burning even through her shirt. "It's about what happened tonight," Hermione continued, not feeling the urge to remove her person from Bellatrix. Right now her lips were on the dark witch's pulse point and Hermione could feel it fluttering under her mouth. Bellatrix tried to crane her neck as far away from Hermione's lips as she could.
"First, get off me," she muttered out, not sure she could handle being this close to the brunette. She tried to gently push her off but Hermione only seemed to grow heavier and heavier and suddenly she was too heavy for Bellatrix to hold up. The brunette pushed against Bellatrix's shoulders and the older woman found the backs of her knees hitting the corner of her bed. She fell down, Hermione following her, straddling her waist, arms gripping her shoulders.
Bellatrix felt the situation was becoming all too reminiscent of what had happened last time Hermione had been drunk and forced Bellatrix into cuddling with her. She wasn't going to let a repeat occur. Especially not when her feelings were too unsteady and dangerous. She didn't want to deal with them. She didn't want to believe they were real.
"If I get off, you'll run," Hermione whispered, bringing her face down to speak this in the older woman's ear. The timbre of her voice was enticing, and it sent shivers down Bellatrix's spine. "And I want you underneath me." She pulled her face back, her eyes dark. Evaluating Bellatrix's face.
Wait-? Had Bellatrix heard right, or was she just assuming things because of her own feelings; projecting them onto Hermione's actions.
"Hermione-" she began to protest, but Hermione dragged a finger up to her lips.
"Shush. I need you to listen. We need to address this thing that is going on between us properly. No running away, no avoiding it. No bollocks. Because we both know I feel it, as do you."
"What?" Bellatrix asked in a small voice. Was Hermione saying that she knew? But did she really? Bellatrix had tried so hard to keep it all in.
"Bellatrix," Hermione drew her face closer at this, so close that their foreheads were touching. Her hands were cupping the sides of Bellatrix's face. Her warm breath ghosted over Bellatrix's lips that felt too sensitive all of a sudden.
"Hermione, I suggest you get off before I make you," Bellatrix didn't want to use force on the other, not ever since she made that promise to herself. But the brunette was being odd, and Bellatrix did not feel comfortable in this situation. For Hermione was way too close to her and it was making her entertain weird thoughts in her head. Thoughts about the golden girl that she shouldn't be having.
Bellatrix's stern tone of voice didn't have the desired affect. Hermione bit her lip and grasped one of Bellatrix's hands in her own, sliding it up to cup her breast. It was warm and so soft. Bellatrix's eyes opened wide at this and she tried to remove her hand but no matter how violently she pulled Hermione's hold did not waver an inch. Had she suddenly grown super strong? Things weren't making sense. "Please," Hermione pleaded huskily. "Get me off."
Bellatrix swallowed heavily at the double meaning in those words. She tried to sit up, to move, but her body wouldn't obey her, filling with heat that made her heavy, made her sink more into the sheets. "Hermione, no," she protested but the other wasn't listening. She gently placed her lips on Bellatrix's, almost as if testing them out. Bellatrix struggled to move her hands and they did move this time, but in accord with what her body wanted. Her hand on Hermione's breast squeezed down harder, her other hand circling up to hold the back of the brunette's neck, melding her closer.
What am I doing? Bellatrix questioned in outrage, while her body betrayed her. Her mouth opened up in answer to swallow down Hermione's tongue and began to suck gently on it, the girl on top of her moaning in response and rocking her hips slowly into Bellatrix's.
M-merlin, Bellatrix stuttered as her hips began to move in earnest to match Hermione's pace. What is going on? She wondered not for the last time. Hermione pulled away from Bellatrix's mouth and lowered her lips onto the pale flesh before her.
Bellatrix bit back a hiss of pain as Hermione bit down hard on a spot on Bellatrix's neck before she sucked on it aggressively. And she wasn't done there. As she trailed down to Bellatrix's collarbone, she left several hickeys, dark angry things ringed by teeth marks.
Bellatrix had to stifle a groan each time, a fog growing over her mind; the tiny voice that said that something was wrong, getting smaller and smaller. The bites hurt, but they hurt so good. Her eyes had closed on the first touch of the brunette's soft lips but now they opened as they felt Hermione's weight on top of her shift.
Was she leaving? Bellatrix thought with disappointment. Did she finally sober up a bit and realize what she's doing?
But that wasn't the case. Hermione was tugging up the bottom of Bellatrix's nightgown, an excited and breathless look on her face. This raised many red flags in Bellatrix's mind, the fog on her mind lifting instantly no matter how much her body was thrilled at the prospect. "Hermione stop. This isn't you. What are you doing?" Bellatrix cried out in shrill panic. Had the girl been enchanted? Had Bella been enchanted? Who did this to them?
She tried to move; to throw herself off the bed. But her body wouldn't listen to her. Instead her arm was slowly reaching out to help push Hermione's head between the apex of her thighs and in a bid to stop this she bit down hard on her shoulder blade.
She woke up with a gasp, her teeth planted firmly in her shoulder, a copper taste in her mouth. She sat up, panting as if she had run a mile, sweat covering her forehead. Wildly she gave a look around the room, searching for Hermione. But it was too dark to see. She bolted towards a lamp and flicked it on. There was no one in the room. No one but her. Still her heart was pounding like crazy and she was frazzled. She felt like she was missing something. Like some truth was evading her. Frantically she began to search under the sheets, under the bed, behind the cabinets and curtains for a peek of Hermione.
But the girl indeed wasn't there. So then had...Bellatrix dreamt all that?
That was...concerning.
A noble Black, coming to pieces because of a single girl.
With a frustrated sob Bellatrix knocked the lamp over, shattering it and throwing the room into darkness, upset that a huge part of her had wished Hermione was actually here.
A/N: Had to split this chapter up, because it was just getting so long.
Also the song they are dancing to in this chapter for the waltz scene is Melting Waltz by Abel Korzeniowski. That dude makes some really good music.