The soft cotton sheets surrounding her smelled of jasmine, a wild curl tickled her nose and lips, and the dryness in her mouth told her she must have slept with her mouth slightly open or even snoring softly as she occasionally did when she slept deeply. It at least didn't seem to have disturbed the woman in her arms whose breathing was still deep and regular as she rested in Pansy's embrace.
The journal of Willelmus Longbottom and the tragic tale it told remained on both their minds the previous night as they quietly ate their dinner and discussed their upcoming week to get their minds off the uncertainty it created. The questions that swirled through her mind all evening weighed heavily on her, and she found herself not wanting to part ways after a week without the harpy's magic caressing hers. So when the Gryffindor looked at her in silent question as the evening grew late, she just nodded and turned her back to the brunette in silent request to unzip her dress. Though the tension between them was palpable and the dark gaze of the harpy followed her form as she put on the borrowed t-shirt to sleep in, the week spent apart had been tiring so they ended up falling asleep fairly quickly.
Hermione stirred slightly, a soft hum escaped her as her thighs rubbed together slightly in her sleep, pressing closer into the warmth behind her instinctively. Whatever the harpy was dreaming of, her magic recognised the arousal easily. It was seductive, like a smooth magical caress that travelled down her spine and raised gooseflesh along its path, the smell of jasmine filling her nose and the tart-sweet flavour of pomegranate on her tongue as her own magic rose in response and their magical cores pulsed in unison.
She carefully separated their bodies and cast a wordless silencing charm on her movements so she wouldn't rouse her sleeping companion. Once in the living room, she quickly donned her dress and left a note on the table to say thank you and let Hermione knew she went home to get ready for work as she had early meetings.
Her movement was automatic as she stripped down and showered slowly, allowing the hot water to loosen her tense muscles somewhat. She wrapped a towel around herself to dry off a bit further and sat in front of her vanity, her reflection looking back at her with eyes full of questions.
What truly was the chance of Hermione transforming into a full harpy form? What if they bonded and their lives together ended up being on borrowed time before her heart broke like Willelmus'? Was the risk worth it?
Only you know the answer.
The words startled her and magic prickled her skin as she realised that the voice which responded to her question was not her conscience this time.
Behind her shoulder stood a woman, nay a Goddess. One Pansy honoured and respected each Samhain as the protector of the Parkinson family.
"My lady Hecate," she whispered, drinking in her caramel features and hair as dark as raven feathers, flickering with light from the burning torch held by the Goddess of magic and the crossroads.
I have been watching you, especially of late as your paths crossed with one of my children.
Pansy's arms broke our in gooseflesh at the significance of her words. Hermione is not a full harpy, only a partial one. How was it possible Hecate recognised her as her child?
The corner of Hecate's lips lifted in a half smile and her burning gaze held pride. I am not mother of all Árpia, but the one who attacked your sun was of my magic and carried my blessings.
Her Greek was limited but Pansy recognised the word for 'harpy' and with it the truth that both of them were under the watchful eye and protection of the Goddess. Wait-
"My sun?" she asked, trying to decipher the Goddess' language.
Yes, as you are the moon, she is the sun. Both must rule the sky. But you are at a crossroad, child, and you must choose a path. Whichever way you decide to travel, your choice will be final. Beware, for only one path preserves leads to life of fulfilment.
Ice formed in her very veins at having the choice stretching before her so soon. She closed her eyes to take a deep breath. She felt as if she were standing at the edge of a cliff rather than at a crossroad, harsh cold wind whipping around her in her mind's eye. Was she ready?
The truth was, in the soft morning light when she held the brunette in her arms, Pansy began to realise their bond was utterly inevitable. No matter how much they delayed, no matter how hard she could try to live a normal life without Hermione in it, she knew it would be a lonely life with the thread of a broken bond forever weighing on her conscience.
The oppressive cliff in her mind shifted, instead of a gale of forceful winds of change, a soft spring breeze caressed her features and something inside her fell into place. With clarity and the feeling of rightness, she opened her eyes once more to meet the Goddess' gaze in the mirror.
I see you made your choice, child. You will need this when the time is right.
A glowing ornate key was held between her fingers and as she stepped closer, Pansy felt her magic rise. She extended her hand for it but instead felt the searching touch on her forearm where the key absorbed into her skin and appeared as a tattoo outline in dark grey lines, as if made of the very shadows the Goddess travelled in.
"How will I know what to do?" Pansy asked, unsure what the Goddess chose her to do.
You will know what the key unlocks when the time comes.
The words echoed around her bedroom and the blaze of the Goddess' torch was blinding for a moment before she disappeared once more as if she'd never been there in the first place. Only the key on her forearm reminded Pansy that it had all happened.
"Come in!" she called when the knock on her door came, trying to stem the Monday morning headache.
Constance stepped in and closed the door behind her delicately, the silencing charm falling into place.
Pansy looked up in surprise, as this was unusual for her secretary, unless something was wrong. "What is it?" she asked.
"My source just sent me a heads up that Claude Gilmel is on his way for a surprise visit and will be here within the hour," she went straight to the point.
"Today?" Pansy looked into her calendar and swore. "He was supposed to come tomorrow afternoon, instead he will likely pretend that he got the days confused to catch us off guard and scrambling. Underhanded and stupid as ever," she sighed. "It's nearly lunch time, I'll have to do the tour and host him for a meal. This could take two hours."
"I rescheduled your lunch with Lady Malfoy for tomorrow and postponed your meeting with Sir Cartwright to four o'clock," Constance handed over a message from Astoria before stepping back. "I'll amend your diary shortly to reflect the scheduling changes. I hope that is useful?"
Pansy nodded. "Thank you, Constance. I know I can always rely on you," she closed the reports on her table and got up, smoothing down her black silk blouse before reaching for her blazer, glad to have worn the simple but elegant outfit today despite having only a couple of meetings scheduled.
"Where would you like to greet him?" Constance asked, her tablet poised at the ready to take any instructions.
Pansy checked her watch again and ran through the options mentally before making a decision. "Notify reception to call you when he arrives and lead him to the marketing floor. I'll be there with Rowan looking over some of our label designs, it will make it appear as if he surprised us in a meeting but I'll show him around the floor before we head up to the labs. Only the standard labs, not the development labs. I don't want anyone interrupting Mistress Granger," she specified. "Make sure to also notify chef and have the private dining room reserved for us. Tasting menu, Italian. Seafood but no fish. And a bottle of valpolicella," he listed, knowing the man's propensity for drinking his weight in red wine with his meals.
Constance nodded and fell in step beside her as they headed out of the office. "Would you like me to send out an inter-department memo?" she suggested.
"That would be wise," Pansy nodded and stepped into the lift, turning to look at her assistant once more with silent thanks before the resourceful young woman returned to her desk and began actioning her requests.
It was barely twenty minutes later as they were comparing some designs for their new lip butter series that the door opened and Constance stepped in, leading Gilmel into the design studios.
"What is it Constance?" she asked, still looking at the designs.
"Mr Gilmel is here to see you-"
"Pansy, I'm afraid it's my fault," he stepped forward and grinned at her surprised gaze, unaware it was utterly feigned.
"Claude, to what do we owe the pleasure? I believe we were expecting you tomorrow?" she asked and allowed herself to be kissed on each cheek, suppressing her gag reflex at the strong soap and sandalwood cologne that filled the design studio space in no time.
"My PA mixed up the dates it seems. You don't mind seeing me today, do you?" he asked.
"Not at all," Pansy offered a smile and turned to Constance. "Please clear my schedule, I'll take Mr Gilmel on a tour of our headquarters before some lunch?" she turned at the last word towards the man, seeing he was surprised by how quickly she recovered.
"Your hospitality is most welcome," he offered like the preening peacock that he was.
He wasn't an unattractive man. In his early fifties, with salt and pepper hair and neat beard that only made him look more dashing. But his watery blue eyes held a sly glint and though he was tall and well built, his penchant for drinking too much was starting to show in the rouge of his nose and cheeks and over-confident gestures.
"Well then, welcome to Pensée," she offered and invited Rowan to show the man around the studio and some of their latest designs.
She guided him around the building for an hour, his beady eyes taking everything in as they visited the sample laboratories as well, seeming to appease his nosy appetite. They were just finishing the tour of the lab when the door opened and Hermione stepped in, casual in a pair of grey jeans and a tank top, lab coat sleeves rolled up to allow for mobility during research. As everyone in the labs knew about her scars, no one even noticed anymore and her unself-conscious attitude was clear in her steps.
"Althea, I ran out of aqua fortis. Can I get a bottle from your bench before putting in an order to restock the cleaning cabinet?" she asked the nearest lab tech before noticing the guests. "Oh, sorry for the interruption," she offered.
Pansy groaned internally, seeing the Gryffindor missed the memo to stay in the lab. "Not at all, Monsieur Gilmel is just visiting us for the day. Claude, you remember our Potions Mistress Hermione Granger," she reintroduced them and watched the man shake Hermione's hand, withdrawing his hand too quickly to be polite. He was clearly disquieted by her scars judging by the path of his gaze, and Pansy had the sudden urge to accidentally spill something corrosive on his shoe to make him stop staring.
"Of course, Mistress Granger is unforgettable," he inclined his head, though the double meaning in his words was clear to both women.
"Likewise," Hermione offered with a smile so cold Pansy wondered how Gilmel didn't have icicles growing out of his nose. She took a small amount of joy in the fact that he couldn't quite hide a shudder.
"We'll leave you to it then," Pansy suggested and turned back to Gilmel. "I believe lunch should be ready around this time. And we have some exquisite wines on the list," she offered, leading him out of the lab and away from the situation.
They were nearly by the elevators when she felt him lean in closer and his hand slide from her waist to the curve of her bottom. "Mr Gilmel-"
"You are a smart woman, Pansy Parkinson. Hiring an ugly woman like that to research beauty is definitely incentive for her to succeed," he practically purred against her ear before his hand was ripped off her body and she blinked at the sudden pulse of power.
It didn't matter that Gilmel was easily half a foot taller than the brunette, Hermione had his neck in her grip, positively vibrating with magic as she levitated above ground and pinned the man to the wall. Her eyes were black as night and the primal hiss that escaped her throat was anything but human.
"Keep. your hands. off." she said in a voice coloured by the magical power coursing through her veins, her dark bottomless gaze both horrifying and fascinating to the man.
"Hermione," Pansy stepped closer, setting a hand on her shoulder to calm her down. "You need to stop, now."
"He crossed a line," she hissed again, her curls wild and grip tightening on the man's throat, making him gasp for air.
"He won't touch me again. But you need to stop, anyone can come out and see you," she urged and squeezed her shoulder again. "Let him go or he will die," she added.
The harpy appeared as if she were ready to see him lose his final breath before letting him go, watching him as he slid down to the floor. Hermione managed to wrestle the harpy within to set down on the floor and retract her wings, shrugging out of the tattered lab coat to hide the evidence of her self-control loss.
"Are you alright?" she asked Pansy, gaze still obsidian yet slowly working to return to its usual whiskey colour.
Pansy nodded. "I'm fine. But we need to do something about him," she motioned at Gilmel, checking the corridor to make sure no one else saw them.
Hermione pulled the wand from her pocket and pointed it at Gilmel who had passed out from the excitement, and after a calming breath cast a spell to wipe his memories that she was all to familiar with. "That should erase the last few minutes. He'll remember he saw me but nothing else. Will you be alright?" she asked Pansy, trying to suppress the basic urge to take Pansy away from this scum. They were not barbarians and she could not afford to be over-protective of her mate no matter what the creature wanted.
Pansy nodded and smoothed down her blouse. "Fine. I just have to get through lunch with him and then we'll send him on his merry way. What about you?" she asked, reaching up to cup Hermione's cheek for a moment.
She leaned into the touch and soaked up the small gesture of affection from her mate. "I'll…get myself under control. I'm sorry for over-reacting, the harpy was out before I could stop her," she tried to explain but Pansy just shook her head in understanding so she knew she didn't overstep too much. "See you later?" she asked, hopeful but not pressing.
"I'll pick you up on my way out," Pansy promised and watched her leave, waiting until she disappeared around the corner before casting an Enervate and watching the man come to. "Claude, are you alright?" she asked, infusing sufficient worry into his tone as she helped him get up and into the lift.
"I'm not…quite sure," he held his head for a moment before shaking it off. "Did something happen?" he asked.
"Oh it's my fault, I dropped my ID card and made you trip. You might have a bit of headache from where you hit your head," she suggested, a sufficient excuse for the after-effects of the obliviation. "Let's get you some water and that lunch, if you're still up for it?" she offered.
"Of course, no need to fuss," he reassured her and was back to his usual self in no time as the valpolicella continued to disappear from his glass.
They apparated to Hermione's flat after a long day, the tension in the brunette's shoulders clearly a residue from having to restrain herself this afternoon. Pansy spent the rest of the afternoon in a contemplative mood. She couldn't blame the harpy for reacting of course, she would have expected no less from a mating creature and as far as she knew, that was a much milder reaction than a vampire or even a werewolf mate would have. That didn't mean this was a sustainable state, hovering in the precarious space before mating and as they tried to sneak around for no one in the company to know their business.
She suspected Constance was somewhat aware, the young woman was far too observant but also incredibly loyal. A graduate Hufflepuff with excellent organisational skills, Pansy snatched her up and through training and mentoring ensured herself a loyalty unrivalled by any other employee she'd previously had. She wouldn't be surprised therefore if Constance was aware of their closeness. Perhaps she would be her secret-keeper if Pansy played this right.
She felt a wet snout nuzzle into her palm and crouched down to pat Byron. "Hello handsome boy, I'm happy to see you too," she smiled and kissed his snout, chuckling when he licked her jaw. She'd never been one for pets but Byron was a sweetheart and meeting him just might change her mind.
Hermione shrugged off her jumper and set her boots in the shoe rack, ready to try and relax with her witch. She's not yours… her subconscious, or perhaps the harpy herself whispered. "I really am sorry," she patted Byron's ears and helped Pansy up, holding her hand for stability while the Slytherin took off her heels.
"You really have nothing to be sorry for," Pansy shook her head. "Gilmel's behaviour is way out of line. Don't get me wrong, he's incredibly smart and usually a bit more covert about his views, unless he's bragging to his male colleagues or apparently in the halls of my company," she rubbed her temple tiredly and leaned her hip against the sturdy, worn sofa. "I just wish you didn't have to hear his vile views."
Hermione shrugged. "I'm used to such comments, that doesn't bother me. What did bother me was how he was touching you and his audacity to do so without your consent. I had to endure such touches when I worked at the Ministry, every time I aimed to pass legislation, the hints about possible favours for my compliance with some man's grubby hands were constant. Had it not been for Kingsley, his steady support and genuine effort to prosecute such behaviour, I wouldn't have achieved half of what I did," she explained, her arms crossed over her chest in a closed off stance.
Pansy took in her words in silent before nodding. "I'm grateful for your defence, but I would like you to have the option to do so more formally," she suggested, seeing her words surprised the brunette.
"What do you mean?" she asked, having an idea, a seed of hope blossoming in her chest, but she wanted to hear it from Pansy straight up.
"I would like us to mate and acknowledge our relationship formally. One of the Ministry functions is coming up next month and it may be a good place to appear together as a couple," she suggested. "But we should complete mating before then. Perhaps…over a long weekend, in case there are any complications?" she suggested.
Hermione stood speechless for a moment, taking in her words and their meaning, the harpy inside her crooning at the prospect of completing the mating. "Are you sure?" she asked, swallowing around her dry throat.
Pansy nodded resolutely. "I've made my choice. We know so little about harpies and their mates but that doesn't mean our mating isn't inevitable. And I hope it will make us both more…contented. But the mating could be unpredictable - the bond could take a few days to settle. Maybe we should both take a long weekend as a precaution?" she suggested.
"You've given this some thought," Hermione said after a moment of considering her words.
"I have," she acknowledged. "I think the last couple of months have shown us that we are compatible in many ways, and our magic wouldn't want us to mate if we were not united," she suggested, not mentioning the encounter with the Goddess that very much confirmed her resolve.
"Friendship is a good basis for a relationship, I hear. Maybe even for love," Hermione suggested, feeling even more hopeful than before. It wasn't love quite yet but she knew she had feelings for the woman across from her, some motivated by the harpy, others developed over the past week. Respect, admiration for Pansy's steely determination, and they certainly didn't lack any in the attraction department, both in mind and body.
"I would hope so, perhaps soon," Pansy hinted, her own feelings for the Potions Mistress growing steadily, especially after their time in Switzerland when many of the barriers between them fell with the revelation of the harpy's nature. And their recent quiet dates at home with food and conversation only helped solidify her attraction to the woman.
"Are you sure? Once mated, there's no going back," Hermione asked one more time.
Pansy nodded. "I know my own mind and magic. I'm ready if you are," she offered.
Hermione's eyes darkened by the harpy's presence took her in before pulling Pansy into her arms, her ardent kiss the only response either of them needed.
"When?" she asked once they parted, chuckling at Byron who was trying to worm his way between them to be a part of the affection.
"Next weekend, it should give us enough time to settle into the bond ahead of our first public appearance together. I'll clear everything with HR and we can have Thursday through to Sunday. What do you think?" she asked.
Hermione nodded. "I think it wise for us to plan for a long weekend. I think the harpy will need to satisfy her need for you," she admitted.
"Good," Pansy's lips quirked into an amused smile. "You better stock the place up well of the weekend."
"That can be arranged," Hermione promised before pulling her into another kiss, nibbling on her lip teasingly as her harpy once again crooned in delight at the arrangements to mate.
For once she was feeling hopeful again.
His phone rang and he picked it up swiftly, having waited for it for the past hour. "What did you find?" he asked without any further ado.
"You were right, sir. There was an incident that you don-t recall - they obliviate you, the hidden camera caught the whole thing. She's a creature, and they seem to be intimate with each other," his secretary summarised just as Gilmel's laptop emitted a soft ping to announce a message arrived.
He clicked on the link and watched the video, listening to their conversation. "A harpy, you don't say," he grinned maliciously. "Pierre, call a meeting with Mr Flint first thing in the morning. We have ourselves a beast to hunt."