A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so glad that you liked the tentative beginnings to their relationship - so sweet and so new. I am really curious to hear what you all will think of this chapter...I wasn't really sure about it and struggled with it. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!
Please let me know what you thought of chapter fourteen and be on the lookout for chapter fifteen soon!
February 1968
It seemed as if the floodgates had burst open once Hermione had told Rodolphus just how much she wanted to kiss him. And he was content to kiss her again and again and again.
She felt lighter than air for the first time since coming to the past, content to remain wrapped up in the warm bubble of teenage love as long as she possibly could. That meant letting the seventh year boy pull her into his lap when they would study, away from prying eyes, in the library, even though she knew that he should really be focusing on his NEWT preparations. He never seemed to push her further than she was wanting, content to keep his large hands pressed against the gentle curve of her waist, holding her against him sweetly.
And she could have kissed him for hours. He was really far too good at snogging, knowing just how to move his lips against hers to have her melting against him. They'd only been at it for two weeks, but he seemed to know exactly what she wanted, even before she knew that she wanted it.
At the same time, things seemed to be moving entirely too fast. Hermione found herself utterly caught up in the excitement of having a secret boyfriend - was Rodolphus Lestrange really her boyfriend, she privately wondered? - that she had nearly forgotten all her prior reservations about his future, even if they were still rattling around in her brain a bit. A part of her wanted to curse herself for waiting quite so many months to get over herself. If she'd known how Rodolphus could make her feel, she would have not put up such resistance. Now, the time until he was set to graduate seemed to be speeding by much faster than Hermione was willing to accept.
That wasn't to say that their relationship had been reduced to romantic mush, all stolen kisses and furtive pets over uniforms. They still spent a lot of time chatting about this and that. Hermione had been devouring the book that he'd given her for Valentine's Day in her spare time, trying to savor her time with it, whilst at the same time being utterly fascinated by the rituals described.
She knew the majority of them peripherally, but it seemed that there were many pureblood traditions wrapped up into it. Her cheeks had colored when she'd read all the sexual undertones of the Winter Solstice rituals that Rodolphus had mentioned, but she hadn't been able to work up the courage to ask him just how traditional his family really was.
Rodolphus had offered to walk her back to Gryffindor tower after spending a solid hour in the library. Hermione had readily agreed, knowing that they would inevitably end up in some hidden alcove or empty classroom for at least one goodnight snog, should they not be waylaid by a prefect or professor. Seeing as the hallways were mostly deserted, Hermione didn't mind holding Rodolphus's hand as they chatted about the upcoming Vernal Equinox.
"So your family really does the whole rabbit blood ritual?" she asked, biting her lower lip, thinking that it sounded utterly horrifying.
"Well, not as long as I can remember," Rodolphus said, his eyebrows drawn together while he tried to remember back that far. "There hasn't been a woman in my family for a long time now, not since mum died," he explained. "I don't remember if she would have done it before Rabastan was born. I was really little then."
The Vernal Equinox was focused on female fertility and new life. It involved ritual animal sacrifice and the drinking of fresh rabbits blood and it turned Hermione's stomach the more that she thought of it. "Your father would have asked her to do that?" Hermione asked, sounding horrified.
"Well, yeah, heir and a spare and all that," Rodolphus answered with a shrug. "After all, six years between sons is a very long time. He might have been getting concerned."
Hermione let out a huff of annoyance. "A woman's worth isn't based on her ability to produce sons," she said with a roll of her eyes. "And the whole thing just sounds barbaric to me."
Rodolphus was silent for a beat. "Some of the things muggles do seem barbaric to me," he murmured finally, leaving an uncomfortable air of silence between them until they crested the seventh floor stairs together. "Listen, I don't want to argue with you about little rituals that I have no interest in participating in," he said. "I'm far more interested in giving you a proper kiss goodnight."
She was only too happy to give into that idea and let Rodolphus walk her towards the wall, until her back was pressed up against the cold stone. He was a fair bit taller than she was, but the height difference never bothered either of them when he was leaning down to kiss her. One large hand cradled her jaw, holding her just so she was tilted up to him at the best angle possible, while at the same time supporting her. His other hand always found her skin, tracing along the smooth column of her neck before dipping further into her hair, tangling through the wavy strands.
Hermione was happy to let him lead in their explorations, as he'd always led them in a good direction, never pushing her to too fast. Instead, she would get lost in the feeling of him, of the careful press and swipe of his tongue against hers. She would have been content to stand there kissing him all night, but both of them knew that he had to get back to the dungeons before curfew.
She stood and watched him leave with a silly little smile on her face, excited about this secret she had, with none of her friends - not even the ever supportive Fawn - any the wiser.
That was until a throat cleared, and brought Hermione attention to a furious looking Molly Prewett staring at her. "I can't believe you, Granger," she said with fury in her voice. "I can't believe that you would go leading poor Arthur on all this time and then be snogging Rodolphus Lestrange behind his back."
Hermione was caught off guard, but quickly snapped into action, looking to nip Molly's fascination between her and Arthur in the bud. "I don't know what you think is going on between me and Arthur, but I promise you it isn't what you think. He's my friend, plain and simple," she said evenly, determined not to fight with the other witch. "I'm not betraying him, because we aren't together."
Molly's cheeks turned bright red in annoyance, obviously trying to keep hold on her temper, leaving Hermione to wonder if the famous Weasley temper was really a Prewett trait all along. "Look, I realize that Arthur doesn't want me when you are around," she said, even though it was clear that it hurt her to say the words out loud. "But, I won't let you hurt him by sneaking around with a Slytherin. Even if he and I...aren't meant to be...I still just want Arthur to be happy. And for some reason you make him happy."
In that moment, Hermione realized just how like Ron Molly really was. Yes, they were both prone to jealousy, but in the moments were it really mattered, it was clear that they were willing to put their own feelings aside if it was the right thing for their friends. Because friendship was important to them both. "Molly…" Hermione said, her anger fading away.
"I am not going to allow Arthur to be hurt by you betraying him, so-"
"Molly, I promise you that Arthur and I aren't together. And while Arthur is a nice friend, I just don't see him as a romantic partner for me, even if he might have some other ideas," Hermione explained, biting her lower lip. "And well, the truth is...I like Rodolphus. I'm not going to stop seeing him just because Arthur's feelings might be hurt."
The other witch deflating, the truth of the words seeming to finally sink in, that Hermione was not actually trying to play the two wizards against one another. "But, you are always flirting with him," she said, sounding a little dumbfounded.
"No," Hermione insisted, shaking her head back and forth. "I've been friendly to Arthur, but I've told him repeatedly that I just don't see him as more than a friend. I'm sorry if your feelings have gotten tangled up in this mess. Honestly, I think that you and Arthur would make great partners."
"So, then...he just really doesn't want me anymore," Molly said, her eyes suddenly growing watery. She tried to blink away the tears, but instead they just slipped down her cheeks.
Hermione was unsure of what to do, not having being on the friendliest of terms with the older girl. Plus, she'd always been pants at these type of interactions. Stepping in, she gave Molly an awkward pat on the back. "I don't think that's true. He always has a nice compliment for you. I just think that he might have lost his way a little bit…" she offered, hoping that was the truth. If Molly and Arthur didn't end up with one another, that meant no Weasley family, and Hermione wasn't sure she could stomach that. Perhaps she had let Arthur's interest in her fester for too long.
"Oh, what's there to like about me?" Molly groaned, feeling rather sorry for herself in the moment. "You're so smart and pretty and determined and you have plans for the future. I'm not like that. I just wanted to get married and raise a family. I don't have any plans for after school."
The brunette laughed at that. "Don't worry, Molly. I don't have things nearly as planned out as you think I do. I'm not even sure what I will do over the summer, let alone after school. My future is incredibly uncertain," she tried to explain, reminding herself once again that her time in the past was very fluid. "Arthur certainly thinks you are pretty and he loves your cooking. I could see him coming to his senses any day now, and you two getting married and living in a little cottage with your seven children."
"Seven?" Molly asked, suddenly snapped out of her tears. A half-smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Merlin's beard that would be a lot to handle. Do you really think I've still got a shot at him?"
"Yes, of course," Hermione nodded, giving the woman another squeeze. "Just be yourself, and I am sure that Arthur will come to his senses soon enough."
With that uncomfortable situation discussed, Molly's tears dried up quickly, and the two witches were left in an uncomfortable silence, neither one wanting to acknowledge what had just transpired between them. Perhaps determined to remind Hermione that they were not friends, Molly sniffed in her direction. "I still think that you are out of your mind for being with Lestrange," she warned the younger girl. "You have to realize what you are to his family - nearly less than dirt. No amount of snogging is going to change that."
Hermione frowned, reminded of that elephant in the room between her and Rodolphus - between her future and present. "Thanks for the warning, Molly," she groused, before walking past the girl towards the portrait of the Fat Lady, determined to get up to her bed and to sleep for hours. Maybe she'd even beg off classes tomorrow, feigning sickness. She didn't want to deal with any of that messiness now.
Still, it couldn't be avoided forever. Perhaps a discussion with Fawn would help her put things into perspective. Afterall, she was a pureblood herself and likely would be open and honest. Or maybe she needed to press Headmaster Dumbledore again, to figure out where they were in the process of getting her back to her correct time.