AUTHOR'S NOTES
This idea wouldn't leave my head so now it's a one-shot. Ten years after the Battle of Hogwarts. Been writing this on-and-off to work out some writer's block so my pacing might be strange at times. WARNING: CONTAINS EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT BETWEEN TWO CONSENTING WOMEN.
"Come on, Mione! It's still early."
"Its well past midnight, Ronald. Besides, I have plans tomorrow."
"Ugh, don't call me that. You sound just like mum."
A door opened and two people walked inside the dark home. Well, one walked and the other had a slight stumble. With a flick of a wand, the lights in the entrance and living room turned on. Both people blinked at the sudden brightness, although the man whose cheeks were flushed dark red had to blink much more than his companion. His eyes found the clock that hung next to the fireplace and it took him longer than it should to read the time. "See! It's only one-eighteen. It's still early," he argued as he moved further into the living room, turning his head this way and that to take in his surroundings.
"Still past midnight," Hermione muttered as she followed him, tucking her wand back into the holster at her jeans. She knew that he was looking for more alcohol to continue their celebration. "And don't you have to meet with your brother tomorrow to finalize the paperwork?"
"George can do it without me." Ron shrugged but his cheeks flushing a darker red told Hermione he was lying. He could never lie well while sober, and was absolutely horrible at it when he had a few drinks in him.
Hermione crossed her arms over her chest as she frowned at Ron. "As a co-owner, both of you need to be present for the signing of the shop's expansion into another country." Well, technically Ron didn't really have to be there since George was listed as the original owner and had more control of the business, but it would still be good manners for Ron to be present and not hung over. Although Hermione did still have some pick-me-up potion stowed away, not that she was going to tell Ron about it.
This time a slight pout accompanied the shrug. Hermione knew that pout far too well. Ron, and at times even Harry, wore the expression during their time at Hogwarts when Hermione refused to help them with their homework. "Come on, Hermione," Ron turned to whining when he saw Hermione wasn't swayed. "We're going to be selling in," he halted, thinking hard. "Well, wherever that American school is. I forgot where Gwendolyn said it was."
"She didn't say," Hermione replied with so much confidence that Ron had to remind himself that she wasn't actually involved in the specifics. "She couldn't have told you," she added and saw Ron frown even more in confusion. Sighing, she pointed to where a full bookshelf stood proudly on the other side of the living room behind two plush armchairs. "I swear, I'm going to force you and Harry to sit down and read Hogwarts: A History. Ilvermorny is unplottable, just like every other wizarding school. Even if Gwendolyn was given the exact coordinates of your new shop, she wouldn't be able to tell anyone or put it on a map."
"Oh," was all Ron was able to offer. He studied the bookshelf with a tilted head to better read the spines, trying to find the offending book that Hermione loved to bring up every chance she got. He gave up after a few seconds. They had better things to do. Like celebrating! "Forget stupid schools and Hogwarts: A bloody History. Weasleys are going to the United States! American midgets are going to buy our products to torture their American blokes."
Hermione couldn't help the soft chuckle at Ron's colorful description of American students and American professors. "You're really happy, aren't you?" she asked as he continued to grin at her.
"Of course I am!" Ron exclaimed. His eyes softened and his smile became bittersweet. "I really am, Mione. I think I really found what I'm supposed to do."
The happy atmosphere that Ron had been mainly building turned a little somber as the two became lost in their own thoughts. Hermione knew that Ron was talking about more than helping George run Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Ever since Fred's death years ago, George had turned in on himself. He would still make his jokes and laugh loud and long, but there were times when he thought nobody was paying attention to him that George's grin slipped from his face and the gleam in his eyes dimmed. Once Ron retired from the Aurors and joined George in his shop, everyone saw more of the old George shine through. There were still those moments where George set up an obvious crack against Ron and he glanced to his side waiting for Fred to give the punchline. Ron would give the punchline himself, having lived with the twins for so long that he knew what Fred would have said. George would give him a sad grin and say he really was his brother after all and the two would go about their business.
"Fine," Hermione said softly, laying a comforting hand on Ron's shoulder. Ron was jolted from his mind at the touch but he gave Hermione an appreciative smile. "I think I have an opened bottle of firewisky in the kitchen." She knew that what she was offering wasn't a healthy coping mechanism, but it was one of the easiest. And Ron was always more of a happy drunk, more prone to boast about the times the twins let him in on a prank against Percy or Mrs. Weasley instead of brooding over Fred's death.
"Thanks, Mione," Ron quickly left the living room, not before Hermione saw a hand lifting to rub at his eyes. "I'll get you a glass too."
"Not too much!" Hermione called after him and was relieved at the chuckle she received. She sat on the love couch situated in front of the unlit fireplace as she waited. She turned her head to look back at the bookshelf, wondering if she could grab a book and read while sipping at her drink or if Ron would want to chat some more. Her eyes skimmed over the different books before they wandered to one of the armchairs. Frowning, Hermione left her seat and went to the chair. On its seat cushion, as if someone tossed the garment without a care in the world, was a leather jacket. A very familiar leather jacket.
Hermione had just whipped her head about, frantically searching for the owner when she heard Ron's startled yell. "BLOODY HELL, HERMIONE!"
Hermione bolted to the kitchen, her body suddenly gone cold and her hand dashing down to where she had her wand hidden at her hip. She drew it out and pointed in front of her as she entered her kitchen, Petrificus Totalus on her lips. Her suspicions, and fear, were confirmed by the sight that greeted her.
Ron was gaping, open-mouthed at a very large and very fluffy black cat who appeared to be glaring daggers at him from her perch on the counter right next to a two-thirds full bottle of firewiskey. A bottle that Hermione knew at once was supposed to be in a cabinet and sure as hell was unopened. "This one's even bigger than Crookshanks!" His eyes flew down to where Crookshanks who, not at all disturbed by the ruckus, was stretched out on the floor. "Where do you keep getting these cats, Hermione?"
"Oh, I," Hermione stammered, ignoring how the angry stare of the black cat moved from Ron to her. "From the same place, actually." She tucked her wand back into its holster and brushed her bangs away from her eyes to buy herself some time. "The proprietor knew how well I took to Crookshanks so she wanted me to try and socialize this one before someone adopted her." She was grateful that Ron had already began drinking earlier that day or else he might have asked what the witch's name was.
"What's her name?" Ron asked, eyeing the whiskey bottle. The cat wrapped a tail elegantly around it and narrowed her eyes, almost as if she was daring him to try and take it.
"Hm?" Hermione felt her heart leap up into her throat.
"The cat," Ron said, turning his attention back to Hermione. "Don't tell me you named her something stupid like Whiskers or Fluffy." His face screwed up, undoubtedly remembering the gigantic three-headed dog of Hagrid's. "Please tell me her name isn't Fluffy."
"Oh no, her name isn't Fluffy." Hermione looked at the cat for a long moment while it resumed her glare at Ron. Her eyes were drawn as always to the fur that was especially fluffy around the cat's head, as if she had a magnificent mane. "She's Lion."
Ron snorted and slowly lifted a hand to reach for the bottle of firewhiskey. He got within a few inches before Lion suddenly swiped a paw at his hand, long and wicked claws extended. Ron snatched his hand back and whistled at the close call. "You have your work cut out for you. She's a vicious beast."
Hermione glanced down at Ron's hand to ensure herself that Lion had missed her target. "She's not a beast. You just need to know how to handle her." With no hesitation, despite Ron's grimace of concern, she grabbed the bottle of firewiskey.
When the bottle of alcohol was out of Lion's reach, Lion lept at Hermione. Hermione only got out a small squeak of surprise before she caught Lion with her free arm, nearly dropping the bottle. Lion drowned Hermione's squeak with her loud purring, rubbing her head against Hermione's cheek and neck, all the while still glaring at Ron.
"Uh, I guess Lion's possessive, eh?" Ron tried to joke as he took a few steps back so he was out of range of Lion's claws. If he didn't know any better, the cat looked particularly smug.
"You have no idea," Hermione muttered as she jostled Lion to get a better grip on the cat. Lion's purring only grew ever louder. She led the way back to the living room and heard Ron rummage in one of her cabinets for two cups. She glanced back with a scowl. There on the bottom shelf with her cups was the bottle of firewhiskey that they should be drinking out of. Ron was too preoccupied with fetching the cups that he didn't even notice the extra bottle. Hermione sat down on the loveseat and Lion hopped off her shoulder with a disgruntled, "Mrow." Hermione gave the cat a swift accusing glare before Ron came into the living room. At once, Lion stretched out in the middle cushion so he had to sit on the other side of the couch, cautiously leaning over so Hermione could pour out the firewiskey and grab her own glass. She ignored the outraged growl from Lion when she had filled Ron's glass much more than normal. Hermione placed the bottle on the living room table and lounged back into her seat, taking a sip and humming at the burn.
"Bloody hell!" Ron sputtered when he took a gulp of his whiskey. His face matched the red of his hair as he coughed.
Hermione gave him an apologetic grin, again ignoring Lion who began to purr in delight at Ron's discomfort. "Sorry, I should have warned you that this is a quadruple-stilled firewhiskey." Ron looked confused again as the red in his cheeks died down so Hermione explained. "It's like a fortified wine." Ron shook his head and Hermione sighed. "It's much stronger than normal firewhiskey."
"Oh!" Ron was relieved that he understood that part. He could have sworn Lion had rolled her eyes at him but it must have been the alcohol. Cats can't roll their eyes. He was sure of that, maybe. He took a much smaller swallow and now he could actually enjoy how smooth the whiskey was. "That sounds expensive, Mione."
"It is," Hermione replied with a casual shrug.
"What's the occasion?"
"Occasion?" There was just a tiny squeak in her question and Lion turned her head to glare at her. Hermione hid her faux pas with another sip as her mind scrambled for an explanation.
Ron wanted to playfully bump her shoulder with his but as soon as he began to lean over, Lion's attention went back to him and she hissed at him. He quickly jerked back and some whiskey slopped over the rim of his glass and over his fingers. Lion hissed again. Ron wiped his fingers off on his shirt while giving Lion a dirty look. "You think you could get this beast off the couch?"
Hermione was grateful for the change in subject so she obliged. "Come on, Lion. You can sit on the table." She shooed the cat off the couch and the corner of her lips twitched at the affronted look on Lion's face as she jumped nimbly off the couch to the living room table. She curled around the bottle of firewhiskey and resumed its death stare of Ron. "Better?" Hermione asked, trying her best not to laugh at Ron's worried face as he saw the glare.
"A bit," Ron cleared his throat and took another drink from his glass. "Would have been better if you put her outside. She looks more like a feral than a house cat."
Lion sat straight up and spat, outraged.
"She can understand you, you know," Hermione said. "Like Crookshanks," she added hurriedly as Ron's worried face started to become thoughtful. Of course he would choose this time to use logic. The thoughtful look disappeared as Ron nodded his acceptance of Hermione's explanation.
As if he was just waiting for Hermione to speak his name, they all heard the telltale thumping of a bowlegged cat padding over from the kitchen. Crookshanks lept up onto the living room table and laid down right next to the still-bristling Lion. He lifted a paw and patted Lion's muzzle as he mewed. Lion's fur smoothed as she glanced down at Crookshanks and gently pushed away the playful paw.
"At least Crookshanks can calm her down," Ron muttered. He looked at Hermione and noticed the soft smile on her face as she watched the two cats. "You're not going to give her back, are you?"
Hermione started at the unexpected question. "I have to," she said sadly. "She'll go back when she's properly socialized. This is most likely the last time you'll see Lion." She kept her gaze locked onto Ron but she could feel Lion's eyes boring holes into the side of her face.
Ron opened his mouth to make a rather smart joke about already having his fill of Lion within the first two seconds of meeting her, but he saw a shadow of hurt in Hermione's eyes so he kept the joke to himself. When it came to giant cats, Hermione was as bad as Hagrid to monsters. "Maybe the new owner will let her visit you?" he suggested. He couldn't imagine Lion being a happy and cuddly cat with anyone for long. She'll probably be right back at Hermione's place within the week.
"I don't think so," Hermione chuckled, shaking her head. It warmed Hermione that Ron could already tell how attached she was to Lion. "But thanks for the sentiment," she added, reaching over and plucking the bottle from its captivity. The cat made a sound of protest and pawed Hermione's hand, claws sheathed. Hermione didn't miss Ron's wince at the contact but he was soon put to ease as Hermione topped his glass off, her hand clearly unscratched. "So besides the very important document signing tomorrow that you will attend, has anything else happened recently?"
"Oh nothing special," Ron answered a little too quickly. He made the same mistake of taking a large gulp and wound up spluttering again. It took several moments for him to recover and he made a rude gesture at Hermione as she laughed at his mishap. "Well, since you asked, George and I have been making big plans for the shop in America." Maybe it was the need to impress his friend after his undignified display, but Ron found himself talking about things George made him swear not to talk about until they got the deal sealed. But Hermione was practically family so she didn't count. Besides, she could help them with the drafts of the contracts. "We're planning on sponsoring Puddlemore United!" He waited for Hermione to congratulate him for such an accomplishment but she just blinked at him. At least Lion seemed surprised, well, as surprised as any cat could be. Bloody hell Hermione had strange tastes for felines. "Puddlemore United, Hermione," he repeated in case she didn't hear him right before.
Hermione blinked again. She knew she heard that name before. "Isn't that the quiddich team Wood joined?"
"Wood joined!?" Ron almost squawked in his disbelief. He knew Hermione wasn't as dedicated to quiddich as he and Harry were but this was unbelievable! "Wood is the captain, Hermione. The captain!"
"Oh," Hermione said with a small indulgent grin. "Wood must be thrilled to be captain. Does he know you want to sponsor his team."
Now it was Ron's turn to blink at Hermione. "Wood's been captain for five years now and no, not yet but that's not the best bit. When he says yes, we'll sponsor him in the Quiddich World Cup!"
"But how will that help your business in America?" Hermione asked, tilting her head and taking another sip from her glass. It was almost empty now but she refrained from refilling it. She figured she should keep a straight head for when Ron was asleep, or passed out by the look of his ever-increasingly red cheeks.
Ron scoffed at Hermione's lack of quiddich knowledge. How could she know everything but not the very important news of the Quiddich World Cup. "The Puddlemore United is playing the World Cup this year. The first time since the team was founded." Finally, Hermione began to look impressed. "And they're going up against America's Sweetwater All-Stars. When Wood flattens those blokes from America, we'll shoot off some of our world-famous Wildfire Whiz-bangs and tell everyone they can order their own fireworks at our new shop."
"Ron, that's amazing," Hermione breathed. She had to admit that the sponsorship and advertisement at the Quiddich World Cup was a genius marketing strategy. Even if Wood's team lost, the word would still get out about the new shop and everyone would be amazed by the fireworks.
"And guess who made the brilliant plan?" Ron smiled modestly and took another sip.
"You?" Hermione ventured with a laugh. Ron was practically oozing with pride.
"Me!" Ron agreed with an exuberant yell, unable to keep his cool. "I came up with it when Wood visited the shop with his team. They were all disguised and ushered straight to our back room, to escape the paparazzi, you know, and,"
Hermione tuned out Ron's long-winded explanation as she continued to sip at her drink. The alcohol was making her feel warm and at peace with the world. Her eyes drifted away from Ron to the two cats on the living room. Crookshanks appeared to have started napping while Lion was very much awake and alert. She was still giving Ron an unpleasant look, but Hermione was pleased that she at least wasn't still glaring at Ron like he was a bug Lion wanted to claw to shreds. Lion must have sensed Hermione's eyes because she turned her head and distinctly met Hermione's gaze. Hermione knew she would lose herself in the intense stare so she quickly broke the eye contact and refocused on Ron's ongoing story.
"She was really cute too and I know she's into me."
"Who?" Hermione interrupted, only now noticing that Ron's cheeks were much darker than a few seconds ago.
"Wilda Griffths." Surprising Hermione, Ron didn't seem to mind being interrupted. He sank deeper into the couch with a drunken grin and raised his glass in a toast. "She was the seeker for the Holyhead Harpies but Puddlemore got her! She's brilliant, Hermione. She could give Harry a run for his galleons even. Well, maybe not Harry but she's bloody amazing on a broom! And she has this cute button nose and dimples when she smiles. I made her laugh, Hermione!" Ron sat up in his cushion so suddenly that Lion hissed at him again. He ignored her as he beamed at Hermione. "I made her laugh so hard she had to hold her sides and she even leaned against me. I need to remember that joke when I see her again." He took a swig and his joy withered. "Do you think Wilda will remember me? What if she forgets who I am and thinks I'm some weird bloke who stole my joke?"
Hermione moved closer to Ron and gave him an encouraging smile. "I'm sure she'll remember you. Its not everyday that someone makes you laugh like that." She didn't add that Wilda leaning against him was probably intentional on her part, but that might be overdoing it.
As if his emotions were a switch that Hermione simply flicked, Ron was beaming again. "Yeah, you're right, Mione. Should I take her to Honeydooks? If we're gonna sponsor her team, she'll have to come by the shop again. I'll get her the best chocolate Honeydooks has to offer." His eyes became imploring as Ron stared desperately at Hermione. "Women love chocolate, right? I read it in a book that you should always give your date the best chocolate you can find."
"Most people like chocolate," Hermione said as she took Ron's glass from him. There were still a few swallows of firewhiskey left but she knew from experience that when Ron was flicking from one emotion to the next, it was better to cut him off right then and there. She placed the glass on the table and grabbed Ron's hand to pull him up off her couch. He followed without complaint, still worrying over what chocolates to give to Wilda. "But you should ask her if she wants any candy first."
Ron nodded solemnly as he stumbled a step away from the couch. He didn't even react when Lion growled as he leaned heavily against Hermione. "You're right! Smart move. You're so smart, Hermy."
Hermione was tempted to let Ron sleep on the couch instead of a soft bed at the sound of Grawp's nickname for her. She couldn't count how many times she asked him not to call her that. He's drunk, she reminded herself. The two made their way out of the living room to the hallway where there were three doors, one bathroom, Hermione's master bedroom, and the guest room. She steered Ron to the guest room. She opened the door and helped Ron stumble to the bed. "We'll talk more about Wilda and the sponsorship tomorrow. You need your sleep."
"Sleep," Ron muttered. The sight of the bed suck all the strength left in his body and he slumped off Hermione's arm to flop down on the bed. He sat up on the bed and kicked off his shoes. "No shoes in the bed," he informed Hermione with a wise nod. Ron tugged up the comforter with some difficulty but he managed to settle with half the comforter on him.
Hermione laughed at the disgruntle frown on Ron's face and went to help cover him fully. When she was pulling back, she gasped as two hands gripped at her shoulders and Ron's terrified face loomed a few inches from her own.
"You have to be there, Hermy!" Ron practically yelled into her face.
There was a sound of a large thud and several quick thumps growing louder as something raced to the room. Hermione turned her head to see Lion skid into the room, her fur fluffed up so she looked twice as large as she already was. Her eyes honed in on Hermione and Ron and Hermione saw the outrage in those dark eyes. "Everything's fine! Go back so I can deal with him" Hermione said to Lion. She wanted to give more reassurances to the cat but she couldn't' risk it with Ron watching her so intently. The cat glared at the two before slowly slinking away, the light tinkling with each step making Hermione realize Lion's claws were out. Hermione sighed and looked back at Ron who didn't appear to give Lion's appearance a second thought. "Where do I have to be, Ron?" Hermione asked, gently taking Ron's hands off her shoulders and pushing him back into a laying position.
"There!" Ron exclaimed unhelpfully. He shook his head to get his whirling thoughts in order. "You have to be my wing-witch when I see Wilda again. You can tell her how amazing I am. You know, how attractive I am and smart and funny and..." Ron trailed off, thinking hard on another adjective that was sure to impress Wilda. "And one of the Golden Trio!" he found the perfect title for himself. That would surely get Wilda's attention.
"I'm sure she already knows you're the Ronald Weasley," Hermione said, fixing the comforter where it fell down to Ron's waist when he bolted upright to grab Hermione's shoulders and begin his plea. "But I'll mention it to her if she forgets. And I'll even tell her about the time you saved Harry's life when you were an Auror."
Ron made a face at the last suggestion. "No, that's overkill. I don't want her to think I'm some big-headed prat." He snuggled deeper into the bed and blinked sleepily up at Hermione. "You will tell her I was a third of the Golden Trio, won't you? Everyone keeps forgetting I was there too."
Hermione felt a twinge of pity for Ron as she nodded. It was true, to an extent. Harry was the center of attention for being the Chosen One and having defeated Voldemort in their last famous duel. Hermione was close behind in how many people wanted to know every miniscule detail of their hunt for the hocruxes since she was the Muggle-born. Despite everyone's assistance that her blood status didn't matter, her feats were all the more extraordinary for a witch without a drop of old magical blood. Ron, however, was given a scant few interviews and was left alone. He was of a pure-blood house that was infatuated with Muggles so of course any great accomplishments he did was thanks to his blood, simple as that, or at least to the press's eyes. "I will, don't worry."
"Thanks, Mione. You're a bloody good friend. Good night." Ron rolled over and promptly began snoring rather loudly.
"Good night," Hermione repeated, leaving Ron to his dreams. She debated whether to close the door or not when she heard another thud and thumps of a large cat leaving the living room. Crookshanks padded up to her and weaved himself around Hermione's legs a few times before going into the room and hopping up on the bed. Ron gave a grunt but didn't wake as Crookshanks curled up next to the wizard, his head on his paws and watching Ron sleep. "Thank you, Crookshanks," Hermione whispered and the cat swished his tail once before he resumed his guard. Hermione left the door ajar in case something happened and Crookshanks had to bolt out of the room to get her.
Hermione went back into the living room, running a hand through her hair to tame some of the usual bushiness. She opened her mouth to begin her chastisement but Lion was nowhere to be seen. And so was the bottle of firewhiskey. Hermione frowned and went to the kitchen but both the cat and alcohol weren't there. Did she leave? Disappointment and distress began to build up until Hermione noticed that her own door was slightly ajar, where it should have been closed. Relief swept over her as she hurried to her room.
"Lion?" she whispered as she slipped into her room. Before she could begin her search, she heard the soft click of her door closing behind her. Hermione was just turning her head when a body pressed against her from behind and a hand clamped over her mouth to muffle any sound of surprise.
"Hush," a playful voice whispered into her ear before the hand covering her mouth swept down to press into Hermione's waist so they were pressed even harder together. The figure rested her chin on Hermione's relaxing shoulder. "I thought the weasel was never going to pass out."
Hermione was rapidly melting into the warmth of the body behind her but the words made her tense in annoyance. "I thought I asked you not to call Ron that." Even though she couldn't see it, she knew that the other was giving a dismissive shrug.
"Asked, not told," the figure replied lazily.
"I shouldn't have to tell you, you're a grown-up witch, not some student," Hermione huffed, but she couldn't put any real emphasis behind the chastisement. She pulled slightly away from the other and turned so she could see the pout on the older woman's face. "And you can't pop into my home without any warning. What if Ron saw you, Bellatrix?"
Bellatrix Black gave another dismissive shrug. Her apparent nonchalant air was betrayed by the fingers gripping her wand. Hermione glanced down to see one tapping at the wood and even a spark flitting out of the end of the wand. "I would have oblivated him," she said simply, her voice even.
"I guess that would work," Hermione admitted grudgingly. Ron would naturally blame the alcohol for the lapse in memory. Even now she wouldn't be surprised if he didn't remember their conversation before. She noticed suddenly the gleam in Bellatrix's eyes whenever Hermione agreed with her about something less than moral. "That still doesn't explain why you're here!" Hermione quickly added.
The gleam only grew and Bellatrix pulled Hermione flushed up against her. "I wanted to see you." She used the tip of her wand to brush away the strands of hair that fell over the younger witch's eyes. "Is that really so bad?"
Hermione huffed again. "It's dangerous," she said. "Did anyone see you come into my house?" Suddenly, her brain began to stampede with all the ways someone could have seen Bellatrix. Even if it was just the barest of glimpses, everything could fall apart when word got out.
"Nobody saw me," Bellatrix said confidently, sensing the rising anxiety as Hermione was undoubtedly thinking of the worst of worst case scenario. "I appareted a few miles into those woods at the back of your house. I turned into a cat and trotted to your backyard. Crookshanks was even waiting for me right outside the catflap."
"You still should have been more careful," Hermione said stubbornly.
Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "How?"
"For starters, by not showing up at my house uninvited." Bellatrix clear disregard for the unnecessary risks and the consequences involved was making Hermione irritated. How could Bellatrix be so foolhardy? Everyone thought she was dead. Any evidence that said otherwise would launch an international investigation with all aurors hounding after her trail.
Black eyes blinked once and Bellatrix took a step out of the embrace, all playfulness gone. She stood with her back straight and looked down her nose at the younger witch. "If you're going to make such a big deal out of my surprise visit, then I'll just take my leave."
Hermione almost flinched at the coldness in Bellatrix's voice. "Don't go," she said, laying a gentle hand on Bellatrix's arm. She could feel the tension in the older witch's body. She squeezed the arm softly and some of the tension eased. "I was worried about you being spotted. The risks,"
"Are mine to make," Bellatrix interrupted, the coldness gone in her voice at hearing Hermione being worried about her. "And I for one, think they are well worth it." She adored how her words made a flush creep up Hermione's cheeks. Just a few words of endearment and the younger witch was puddy in her hands. Not that Bellatrix ever used that knowledge to her advantage. Well, only in certain situations. "If you don't want me to leave, then what do you suppose we do?" She let the blush deepen as Hermione's mind took the suggestive question and ran with it. Bellatrix wondered for a moment if she should used Legitimately to see just what the younger witch was imagining but decided against it. Hermione had become an extraordinary Occulums under Bellatrix's teachings and would sense the probing magic. So instead, Bellatrix walked pass Hermione, making sure their sides brush, and went to the nightstand. She grabbed the bottle sitting there and held up for Hermione to see. "Fancy a nightcap?"
"I'm pretty sure I've already had a few," Hermione muttered with just a hint of playfulness. She was going to explain all the reasons why Bellatrix couldn't show up in her house uninvited, but she was willing to put the lecture aside for an hour or two. She was truly happy to see Bellatrix so unexpectedly.
Bellatrix grinned as Hermione reached out for a cup and instead received the bottle itself. "I'm not going to let that Weasley drink anymore of this fine stuff. So we're going to have to drain it ourselves."
Hermione rolled her eyes at the childish ploy but she took a sip nonetheless. Two-thirds of it was gone and it wasn't a large bottle in the first place so she thought they could manage it. "It's a waste for all of it to be gone in one night, Bella."
"More of a waste considering how much Weasley drank," Bellatrix tried to huff but Hermione's use of her nickname took most of the bite out of her words. She flopped down on the bed and took the bottle back for her own swig. "This is fine stuff, by the way. Where ever did you get it?"
"Would you believe me if I said it was elf-made?" Hermione joined Bellatrix on the bed, pointedly glancing disapprovingly at the boots the older witch was still wearing.
Bellatrix ignored the look. If Hermione wanted no boots on the bed, she could take them off herself. Actually, that was a rather nice thought. Hermione slowly pulling the laces loose, a hand gliding idly up and down her leg because god knows Hermione's fingers were always touching her, not that Bellatrix was complaining. She reluctantly let the vision fade away before Hermione could start work on her ridding Bellatrix of her skirt, or maybe just bunching it up around her hips in her impatience to get to her. "Yes," she finally said, sitting up and hunching over to undo the laces and kick off the boots and socks. "They make the best wine. But I thought you were against slave labor?"
Hermione nodded as she took another swig, the taste all the more exquisite with the thought of how much work went into it. "I am but this isn't made by slave labor." She showed the bottle to Bellatrix and pointed excitedly at the name of the brewery. It was in tiny script right at the bottom of the label, very easily skipped over by the wandering eye.
"Brewed by the EA?" Bellatrix read aloud, her eyebrows crinkling in confusion. "I don't understand."
Hermione sat up in the bed as she exclaimed. "EA stands for Elf Alehouse. Its a brewery employed entirely by elves! Well at first. Once they gain more popularity, they're hoping to employ witches and wizards, but as equals! This is their first batch of products and this was their first bottle."
Bellatrix blinked in surprise. Now that she knew of the significance of the whiskey, she would have launched herself at Ron the second it was clear he wanted to drink it. "Can elves handle such a business by themselves?" She knew she asked the wrong question by the irritated glint in Hermione's eyes.
"They've already been brewing for ages," Hermione said angrily. "You said it yourself. Elves make the best wine."
"They do," Bellatrix said simply, unsure if even those two words would calm Hemrione down. Apparently not, from the way the younger witch narrowed her eyes down at her. "I suppose it shouldn't surprise me that they're venturing into their own brewing business, with all the new laws."
"Don't you mean all the old laws that were disbanded?" Hermione shot back, her anger rising with each response. "Like the ones that barred house elves from starting their own businesses or even getting a decent living wage for their work?" She tried to remind herself that Bellatrix grew up with a very different mindset regarding the house elves. The older witch was taught that the house elves were just objects of convenience and not creatures with thoughts and feelings. When they first began, whatever this is, Bellatrix just scoffed at Hermione's ideas about the elves actually being treated with respect they deserve. Slowly, ever so painfully slowly, Hermione had been chipping away at those outdated and inhumane ideals.
"Yes, I meant those," Bellatrix muttered, trying to look contrite. This night already had a less-than-desirable start and it was just getting worse, not better. "It is an excellent whiskey. I'll make it a point to only buy theirs from now on."
Hermione sighed, sensing that this was as much of an apology as she was going to get. She knew Bellatrix meant it about becoming a loyal customer to EA so that was at least something. And if she were honest, Bellatrix had been making an effort to support Hermione, even if it was indirectly, with getting the elves more rights. She sat back down next to Bellatrix and leaned against the older witch. "Thank you," she murmured, taking the bottle for a swig. "They were so excited giving me the first bottle." She chuckled at the memory. "They wanted to give me the whole first batch, actually. I think it was more than a dozen barrels."
"And you turned that down?" Bellatrix asked, incredulous. "We could drown in whiskey with twelve barrels!" Hermione made a face at her which Bellatrix ignored as she grabbed the bottle back. "At least we could have had a bottle that the weasel hadn't contaminated."
"He didn't contaminate anything," Hermione said, but there was no bite in her words. "Besides, that bottle should have been in the cabinet, not opened and on the counter." There was a rush of gratification as Bellatrix's cheeks flushed red at being caught red-handed. Or red-pawed, Hermione thought with a giggle.
"What's so funny?" Bellatrix growled, although even to her ears it sounded more playful than threatening. What was it about the younger witch that made her so tame? When the giggling didn't stopped, Bellatrix put the bottle safely on the nightstand and promptly pounced on Hermione. She pinned the younger woman's arms down and sat on her hips to keep the other woman from escaping. "Are you laughing at me?"
"Maybe a little," Hermione teased, unafraid of the former Death Eater trying to glare down at her. She wasn't going to mention that the glare was utterly ruined by the small smile playing on Bellatrix's face. "I am glad you're here. After Ron passed out, I was worried you would have just left," she admitted suddenly.
Bellatrix shook her head as she flashed a smirk down at the younger witch. One of her hands slid down a pinned arm and Hermione's side. She slipped her hand underneath Hermione's shirt and glided up again. Her hand stopped exploring up the other woman's shirt when her fingertips brushed against a cup of Hermione's bra. "I wouldn't leave without giving you a proper goodbye." She leaned down as her hand moved higher, cupping Hermione's breast underneath her bra. Bellatrix swallowed a whimper and didn't waste a moment before deepening the kiss. She felt a hard nipple press against the palm of her hand as Hermione opened her mouth to let her tongue slide in between her lips. Bellatrix could taste the firewhiskey on Hermione's tongue and groaned as she let her body lay down on top of Hermione. The hand moved away from Hermione's breast just long enough to slip underneath the bra to touch the younger witch directly.
"Bella," Hermione gasped and turned her head to break the kiss. Her body was giving into Bellatrix's touches as it always had even as her mind was telling her how this was a bad idea. "We can't," she whimpered weakly. The possessive growl that came from Bellatrix caused her back to arch so her breast was pressed firmly into Bellatrix's hand.
"You don't want me to stop," Bellatrix purred as she rolled Hermione's nipple between her fingers. She pulled back to watch Hermione's inner struggle to give in or put up some sort of resistance. Bellatrix knew from the way the younger woman bit her bottom lip to muffle a moan when Bellatrix's nail scraped ever so lightly against the hard bud that Hermione wasn't going to kick Bellatrix out of her bed. The younger witch just wanted to make it seem that she was trying to do the good proper thing and not let a former Death Eater get into her pants. "Are you worried the weasel's going to hear us?"
Hermione nodded, not trusting her voice as the fingers resumed playing with her nipple.
"Well, that's easily remedied," Bellatrix said with a shrug. She reluctantly left Hermione's breast but she made sure to scratch down the younger witch's stomach as she slid her hand out of Hermione's shirt. She grabbed her wand and pointed it over her shoulder at the door. "Muffliato." She felt the magic leave her wand to coat the door and walls. "Now you can scream my name as loud as you like." To prove her point, she brushed aside Hermione's bushy hair from her neck and swooped down to nip at the pulse point. She soothed the mark with a open-mouthed kiss, Hermione squirming underneath her and gasping.
"Its not just about him hearing, Merlin," Hermione groaned as she received another bite, "hearing us. Its the principle!"
Bellatrix leaned back to glare down at Hermione, this one much more genuine. "Fuck your principles," she hissed, reminding Hermione of the older witch's animigamus form. "If we gave a damn about them I wouldn't be here in the first place." Bellatrix took the sting from her words as she removed her hand from Hermione's shirt and cupped Hermione's cheek in a rare moment of tenderness. "We would have never had that first conversation when you found me in Australia."
Hermione couldn't help herself from blurting, "It wasn't exactly a conversation. You had your wand at my throat demanding how I found you."
Bellatrix pouted at Hermione's distinction but after a few seconds nodded in acknowledgment. "Well, I guess you're right about that. But to think of the sheer improbability of it all. That you just happened to stop by at the pub I visited once every two weeks." A blankness entered Bellatrix's eyes as she went through the memories. "And you, with the wand of the most notorious Death Eater and Voldemort's most trusted servant at your throat, were so calm that I knew you were hunting me."
The truth was that Hermione's mind was too preoccupied with the impossibility of the meeting to respond properly. With the downright ridiculousness of the situation, Hermione had become strangely calm, as if the fact that Bellatrix was supposed to be dead, not in muggle clothing and drinking muggle beer, gave her such as a sense of strange modernity that Bellatrix couldn't possibly ruin it by hurting her. "I asked for a deal," Hermione whispered, replaying the scene in her head.
"My expertise on memory restoration for your silence," Bellatrix murmured, recalling how she accepted the deal without any real thought. It seemed the wise choice at the time, and she was curious if Hermione would hold up her end of the bargain. She didn't even insist on an Unbreakable Vow. After being 'dead' for three years and living in the muggle world, Bellatrix was bored enough to risk such a gamble. If Hermione got the information she wanted and immediately outed Bellatrix, well the older witch would at least have the excitement of being on the run again. "But then everything just went so wrong, didn't it, pet?" She said the word with such glee.
Bellatrix's hand slipped back underneath Hermione's shirt and her hand glide up, revealing more skin as it traveled upwards. "If we cared about these principles you think so highly of, we would never had that truce. We wouldn't have had our friendly chats about restoring your parents' memories and the long-term effects of your marvelous obliviato charm."
Hermione blushed but she couldn't tell if it was from the fingers lightly tickling her torso just beneath her bra or if it was from the praise. "We had to discuss the strength of the charm before I removed it form my parents," she tried to downplay the magnitude of her spell.
"And we had to have those delicious drinks while we had our chats, did we?" Bellatrix shot back with a victorious grin. She waited a few moments for Hermione to brush away the drinks they had during their discussions but the younger witch stayed silent. It was Hermione's idea after all, somehow getting it into her head that just because Bellatrix happened to be a bit older, she wouldn't be able to hold her liquor with the Gryffindor's less-than-tact encouragement. "Remind me, who was it that got drunk during our chat and had to sleep it off on my couch?"
"I was making sure you were telling me the truth," Hermione muttered before shivering in pleasure as the nails dug in just a little harder.
"Would have been better trying to slip me veritaserum," Bellatrix said smugly. They've had this conversation a few times now and it always delighted Bellatrix to add, "Not that I wouldn't have caught you if you tried." She moved her other hand to push Hermione's shirt up higher. Her eyes greedily took in the newly revealed skin, planning where she should leave a few marks for Hermione to look at later. She bunched the shirt over Hermione's breasts before the younger witch had the sense to lean up and take off the shirt herself. "Little slow after a few drinks as always."
Hermione huffed and tossed the shirt at Bellatrix's face. "Shut it." It wasn't her fault that Bellatrix's voice and wandering hands were lulling her into a pleasant daze. She opened her mouth to give a half-hearted retort of Bellatrix always becoming pushy after a few drinks but her lips were suddenly preoccupied. She melted into the kiss and pulled Bellatrix close, gasping at the feeling of the fabric of Bellatrix's tanktop brushing against her sensitive skin. Hermione was almost sorry that Bellatrix opted to dress like a muggle while in hiding. She often fantasized what it would feel like to have the ridges of Bellatrix's old corset biting into her naked skin.
Bellatrix continued the kiss as her hands deftly unclip Hermione's bra while the younger witch was distracted. "I would never have let you kissed me either."
"You kissed me," Hermione couldn't help interrupting. Before Bellatrix childishly argued against the fact that they both knew was perfectly true, Hermione shrugged off the straps of her bra and tossed the garment to a corner of the room.
"Did I?" Bellatrix asked, distracted. Her hands glide up Hermione's sides, smirking a little as a giggle slipped out despite Hermione's best efforts to hide it. She reached the other woman's breasts and gently cupped them, her thumbs teasing the hardening nipples. Her nails just scratched against the tips of Hermione's nipples and she was rewarded with a sharp gasp. Bellatrix was determined to get back the upper-hand and remain in control for the rest of the night. She did love how Hermione had enough back bone to talk back against the big bad Bellatrix Black but right now she desired full obedience. And she knew the perfect way to get it.
"You know," Bellatrix murmured, getting Hermione's attention away from what the older witch was doing to her breasts. "If your principles mattered so much, why am I able to do this?" She leaned down and took a nipple into her mouth, circling her tongue around the hard nub before her teeth grazed it.
Hermione wanted to roll her eyes at Bellatrix's continued teasing at her earlier statement about her principles but her eyes closed on their own as she basked in the feeling of Bellatrix's mouth on her breast. "Bella," she murmured, a hand coming up to run her fingers through the silky, wild curls. At once, Bellatrix's touches became gentler and Hermione couldn't stop another moan escaping from her lips.
Bellatrix let go of the nipple with a wet pop. "I should have never found out how sensitive you are here." She blew cool air against the hard bud for emphasis. Hermione shuddered and the grip on Bellatrix's hair tightened, although it just made Bellatrix more excited.
The older witch began a slow path down Hermione's body, kissing her way down the other woman's stomach. "Or how ticklish you are here," Bellatrix said casually as Hermione giggled again when the older woman kissed a particularly sensitive spot. She kissed the spot again for good measure before resuming her trek downwards. When her lips met the fabric of Hermione's jeans, Bellatrix leaned back and sat on Hermione's legs. She toyed with the button and zipper on Hermione's jeans, recalling when the younger witch had worn leggings during one of their 'meetings.' Bellatrix was more than happy to pay for the ruined pants, and even offered to buy as many as Hermione liked if she began to only wear those for pants.
"What are you thinking about?" Hermione asked. She noticed the far away look in Bellatrix's eyes and the slight smirk. She guessed the older witch was reminiscing about a particular memory.
"About the time you wore those leggings," Bellatrix answered honestly. She focused on Hermione and the smirk grew as Hermione squirmed impatiently. "I practically ripped them off you." To emphasize her point, she opened Hermione's jeans and hooked a finger into a belt hoop. She pulled hard enough to lift Hermione's hips off the bed.
Instead of blushing from embarrassment as Bellatrix expected, Hermione chuckled. "You did rip them off me."
Bellatrix shrugged as she tugged Hermione's jeans and underwear down her legs. "You weren't complaining for long, pet." She shuffled down the bed and settled in between Hermione's legs.
"Oh shut it," Hermione tried to growl but the sight of Bellatrix laying in between her legs made her breathless. She reached down and ran her fingers through the silky curls. With a soft tug, she pulled Bellatrix's mouth right where she needed the older witch. "Bella," she breathed as a gentle tongue slid up her slit. Hermione looked down to watch what Bellatrix was doing and her stare was caught by Bellatrix's intense onyx eyes. She couldn't look away as Bellatrix teased her by slowly dragging her tongue along Hermione's sex, the tip of it barely skimming over the clit.
"If I cared for your principles, I wouldn't find out how delicious you are." Bellatrix pulled away just enough to comfortably slide her hand up along Hermione's thigh and spread her sex. Her middle finger dipped inside Hermione's entrance and shallowly thrust inside her.
Hermione groaned as she forced her hips to stay still. She knew Bellatrix wanted her to beg for release but she was determined to hold out for as long as she could. "Stop teasing me," she growled.
Bellatrix gave a fake pout at the retort and pulled away altogether. The pout was replaced with a smirk as she heard the disbelieving whine. "What's wrong, pet?"
"You stopped touching me," Hermione answered, propping herself on her elbows to glare at Bellatrix. Just because she wasn't going to play along with the older witch's games didn't mean she deserved to be left hot and bothered.
"I did," Bellatrix admitted. "You told me to stop teasing you so I stopped," she added innocently.
Hermione groaned and had to push away the temptation of throwing a pillow at Bellatrix's head. "That's not what I meant and you know it."
Bellatrix tilted her head to the side like she was confused. "Then tell me what I should do."
"You," Hermione halted her exclamation of how childish Bellatrix was being when she saw the gleam of delight in those black eyes. She thought she was avoiding Bellatrix's game by not playing along but now she saw that Bellatrix had neatly put her in a corner. She could give in and tell Bellatrix rather embarrassingly when she wanted the older witch to do to her or she could hold on to her stubborn pride and be left unsatisfied and pent up. "You're insufferable, you know that," Hermione finally groaned. Bellatrix only smiled at her and kissed the inside of her thigh, her lips barely touching Hermione. Even that little touch sent a jolt through Hermione's body. She needed Bellatrix, no matter how much of her pride she had to let go of to get the older witch to touch her again.
"Kiss me again," Hermione said and wasn't the least bit surprised when Bellatrix gave her the same kiss, just as chaste as before. She groaned in exasperation and grabbed the back of the other woman's head. "Higher." When Bellatrix kissed just an inch higher than the previous spot, Hermione offered no complaint. "Good, Bella. Do it again." Bellatrix hid the grin at the praise, but not before Hermione caught it. Two could play at this game. When she received another kiss, this one a little firmer, the younger witch hummed and ran her fingers through the wild black hair. "You're doing so good, Bella. A little higher now."
Bellatrix couldn't deny how the praises were making her even more excited. She moved a few inches higher and kissed Hermione's thigh. The muscles jumped as she let her tongue lap at the place she just kissed.
It took Hermione a few moments to remember that she was supposed to tell Bellatrix what to do. She gave the hair in her hand a soft tug. "Higher, Bella." The next kiss was right under the jut of her hip bone. "Again," she murmured. She repeated herself when she received another kiss.
"Anywhere else, Hermione?" Bellatrix prompted. Her lips remained parted as she panted lightly. She was so close to where she knew Hermione needed her to be. The younger witch just needed to give that one last command.
Hermione could barely hide the smirk. Bellatrix sounded as if she were the one being teased. "Kiss me there again, Bella."
Bellatrix did as she was told and waited expectantly for the hand in her hair to move her lips to Hermione's sex.
"Again, Bella." The kiss she received was a little more forceful. Hermione gasped at the feeling of teeth nipping at her hip. She pulled Bellatrix's hair and met the challenging stare. "I didn't say you could use your teeth.
"My apologies, pet," Bellatrix said in her sweetest tone. She would have kissed the bite to prove her penance but the grip in her hair didn't loosen. "I'll do better next time," she vowed in the same voice.
Hermione kept their gazes locked for a second longer before she let go of Bellatrix's hair in favor of cupping her cheek tenderly. The mischievous look in Bellatrix's eyes softened as she instinctively nuzzled into Hermione's hand. "I know you will, Bella," Hermione whispered.
Bellatrix should have growled that Hermione wasn't playing fair, not like she was doing any better. But the hand cupping her cheek was so warm and soft that Bellatrix found herself simply melting into the touch. "Please." The word was out of her mouth before she knew what she was doing. She opened her mouth to take it back but somehow the words turned into, "Please, Hermione."
"I love it when you say my name like that," Hermione couldn't help admitting. Whenever those doubts came creeping up when she hadn't seen Bellatrix in more than a month, just remembering the older witch saying her name like it was a precious gem was enough to quiet those voices. The hand cupping the other woman's cheek moved back to her hair. Hermione guided Bellatrix's lips to her sex. She didn't even have to give a command before she felt Bellatrix's tongue part her lower lips. "Merlin, Bella. Just like that."
Bellatrix couldn't bring herself to tease Hermione anymore, not when she gasped her name like that. Without asking, Bellatrix pushed Hermione's legs further apart as she tasted the younger woman's arousal. "Hermione," she groaned and pulled the younger woman closer.
"Bella," Hermione whined, both hands now tangled in Bellatrix's hair. "My clit, please." She meant to beg again in case Bellatrix decided to play aloof but the plea morphed into a low moan. She wouldn't last long with the older witch flicking her tongue against her clit just the way Hermione loved. "Don't stop, Bella. Please, don't ever stop!"
I can't stop even if I wanted, Bellatrix thought to herself. She was addicted to the younger witch, so much so that she was happily risking her freedom and life just to greedily grab at a few scant hours with her. She wrapped her lips around Hermione's clit and sucked gently. Hearing her name being moaned was exquisite music. She sucked again to hear it once more.
"Close," Hermione warned, her back arching at her oncoming climax. Her eyes squeezed shut as Bellatrix redoubled her efforts, letting her teeth graze the bundle of nerves. "Bellatrix, yes."
"Say you're mine," Bellatrix begged. Before Hermione could even think of complaining that she wasn't using her tongue anymore, Bellatrix pressed the pads of her two fingers against the younger witch's clit, rubbing in tight, fast circles.
"Yours," Hermione gasped, one of her hands flashing away from Bellatrix's hair to grip her forearm. "I'm yours, Bella."
"Again." Bellatrix meant to command Hermione but it came out as another plea. Damn the young witch for making her want her. Damn her for making her need to be needed. "Say you need me."
"I need you," Hermione moaned, an eye opening to meet Bellatrix's desperate gaze. It was like the other woman expected Hermione to disappear in a cloud of smoke. Like none of this meant anything to her. "I need you, Bella." She tugged Bellatrix's hair until the older witch was hovering over her. She leaned up to claim the older witch's lips, whimpering at the taste of her own arousal. The kiss was full of desperate hunger that it took Hermione's breath away.
"Hermione," Bellatrix gasped into the kiss and felt the other woman clutch at her fingers as she climaxed. She kept up her rough pace as Hermione cried out her name. "Hermione," Bellatrix repeated, breaking the kiss to press her face into the crook of the younger woman's shoulder, not wanting to give the other woman the opportunity to muffle her sounds of pleasure with kisses.
It felt like a blissful eternity later when Hermione's body relaxed onto the bed again. She let go of her grip on Bellatrix's hair with a half-hearted, "Sorry." Predictably, the older witch shrugged away the apology, looking far too smug to be annoyed by Hermione gripping her hair in her ecstasy. Hermione kissed away the smug grin, tasting herself again. "I suppose you're about to say that if you cared for my principles, you wouldn't hear me scream your name?" Hermione quipped after the kiss.
"Something like that," Bellatrix conceded with a chuckle. She let Hermione's fingers glide down the front of her shirt and up underneath to touch her stomach. "And you'll say, 'But Bellatrix Black, I don't scream.'"
Hermione made a face at Bellatrix choice of words. She would say something along those lines, although she wouldn't sound half as girlish. "I don't. Usually."
Bellatrix grinned slyly as her own fingers walked down Hermione's naked stomach. The sheen of sweat made the skin glisten. "Only when I'm the one fucking you."
"Do you really have to ruin the moment?" Hermione asked, although there wasn't an ounce of annoyance in her voice. She was used to Bellatrix's crass behavior even after sex. Well, when Bellatrix wasn't on the receiving end. When she made Bellatrix climax, the older witch was as docile as well, a pampered housecat. With that thought, Hermione's hand ventured higher up Bellatrix's torso. The tips of her fingers traced the underwire of Bellatrix's bra. She watched Bellatrix's eyes flutter in anticipation and quickly drew her hand back down to the older witch's stomach.
Bellatrix opened her mouth to complain and closed it at the humor in Hermione's eyes. "And you say I'm a tease." She sat up to pull her shirt over her head and tossed it away from the bed. If she let Hermione undress her, it could take ages. As much as she enjoyed the slow and attentive pace, they barely had time as it is. Bellatrix undid her bra and tossed it away too, very aware of Hermione's gaze darting down to her exposed breasts. Before Hermione could distract her with that wonderful mouth of hers, she unbuckled her belt and kicked off her pants and underwear.
"Impatient?" Hermione teased as her eyes hungrily took in her lover's naked body. She reached out and traced the scar that marked Bellatrix's 'death.' The older witch shuddered at the touch and she instinctively moved closer to Hermione. "I wish you could stay here," Hermione murmured as she traced another scar running across the older witch's right ribs, one that even Bellatrix could not recall where she received it.
"As do I," Bellatrix confessed, watching the finger move over the puckered skin. "I could always stay as Lion when you have company, you know."
"Too dangerous," Hermione said sadly. She moved her fingers up to cup a breast, her thumb circling a hardening bud. "You could visit me more, though." She recalled Ron saying that the new owners of Lion would turn the cat over within the week. "I could say that I'm socializing you."
Bellatrix was about to give a stinging retort, aimed at Ron of course, but a hiss of pleasure escaped her lips instead. Hermione had taken the opportunity to lean closer and suck the nipple into her mouth. "If you bring Ron around to socialize me, I'll claw his face until nobody could recognize the great Ron Weasley."
Hermione chuckled around the nipple in her mouth. She let it go with a wet pop and kissed across Bellatrix's chest to play with the neglected nipple. Her fingers glide up and down the older witch's stomach thrice, each time feeling the muscles twitch at the tickling sensation. "Please don't," she said in her most soft voice.
"Fine," Bellatrix mutter turned into a murmur at the imploring tone. She always somehow became wrapped around Hermione's little finger. More than once, she wondered if the younger witch had slipped some love potion into her drink but the bushy-head woman stayed in her thoughts long after the strongest love potion effects would have ended. "But I will scratch him if he tries to pet me."
"I doubt he'll ever try to pet you." Hermione's hand swept back up Bellatrix's stomach. "I'll have to pet you though, to keep up appearances." She watched Bellatrix try to frown in disapproval but the bliss in her eyes betrayed the content. Hermione was surprised how physically affectionate the older woman was behind closed doors. Every time they met for one of their meeting, Hermione made a point to touch Bellatrix as much as possible. Her fingers slid downwards and cupped Bellatrix's sex. She marveled at the heat and wetness she found there. "You're so wet," Hermione whispered, dipping two fingers in between Bellatrix's sex.
"Shut up," Bellatrix grumbled as her legs opened wider. She grabbed Hermione's forearm so the other woman couldn't pull away. "More," she groaned as her hips rocked up into Hermione's hand.
Hermione smirked and stroked Bellatrix's sex slowly, spreading the slickness to Bellatrix's clit. She rubbed the bundle of nerves leisurely. She listened to the older witch's gasp and kissed her neck where a bruise was beginning to form. "You sound so amazing."
Bellatrix almost growled at Hermione to shut up again but held her tongue. Any snappish remark would only make Hermione more insufferably smug. She couldn't swallow the gasp of pleasure at the feeling of Hermione's fingers sliding down her slit suddenly and entering her. Bellatrix covered her mouth with a hand in a feign attempt to stifle her moans as Hermione curled her fingers just right. "You're cheating," she managed to gasp out behind her fingers.
"Only a little," Hermione conceded and rubbed against the sweet spot inside Bellatrix to make the older witch moan again. "I prefer to say that I'm using what I learned from my past experiences to my advantage."
Always the scholar, Bellatrix couldn't help thinking. She buried her free hand into Hermione's bushy hair and kept the younger woman's lips at her neck. If she saw that damnable smirk, she might come undone right then and there. Still, Bellatrix could practically feel the self-served grin against her throat as Hermione added a third finger inside. Bellatrix made a noise suspiciously close to whimpering.
"You're close," Hermione stated as she made yet another mark on Bellatrix's neck. She could only thrust shallowly into Bellatrix with three fingers but she made up for it by pressing her thumb against the older witch's clit. The walls around her fingers fluttered and Hermione heard a muffled moan of her name. Hermione nipped at the new mark and was rewarded with a louder moan. The fingers in her hair tightened its grip as Bellatrix's body began to tense up at her oncoming orgasm. "I love how your toes curl up right as your about to cum," Hermione whispered into Bellatrix's ear.
Bellatrix could only give a nod as indeed her toes were clenching. It had only taken the second time they fell into bed together for the young woman to discover that tell. Damn Hermione. Her brilliant, gorgeous Hermione. Her body trembled as she finally gave into the orgasm the younger witch had been building. "Fuck, Hermione! Merlin, Hermione," Bellatrix moaned, the hand covering her mouth flashing down to grip at the younger witch's back, pulling her flush against her.
Hermione let herself be pulled into the tight embrace, entranced by how Bellatrix's body trembled against her in her climax. She gently removed her fingers from Bellatrix but she continued to rub the other woman's clit as her body slowly relaxed against the bed.
"Good," Bellatrix admitted as her wits slowly returned. She relaxed her grip on Hermione and only then became aware of how her skin glistened with sweat. Making a face, she turned and reached for her wand but her fingers only brushed against the wood before Hermione stopped her with a soft touch to her shoulder. She turned back with a raised eyebrow and the younger witch answered by cuddling up against her, half laying on the older witch to trap her from making another grab for the wand.
"You know I don't mind the mess," Hermione murmured, wrapping her leg around Bellatrix to make her stay put. She knew how insecure the older witch could be right after sex. Bellatrix was used to appearing extraordinarily beautiful, ethereally so. Now though, she was just as sweaty and spent as any other person. Hermione loved it though, being the cause of the great Bellatrix Black panting and exhausted. She kissed the older witch's shoulder, finding a new mark she didn't remember making. "You're so beautiful."
Bellatrix didn't respond but Hermione felt her relax against her. The two witches basked in the tranquil silence, both of their hands idly touching the other, retracing old scars or making random patterns.
Ten minutes later, Bellatrix broke the silence with a sigh. "I do have to leave, you know. The weasel may suspect."
Hermione frowned a little at the insulting nickname but she would let it slide for now. "It'll be worse if you left now," she argued, the leg around Bellatrix tightening ever so slightly. "Ron will wonder where Lion had gone."
For just a second, Bellatrix grinned at the fake name but she made herself frown disapprovingly. "Tell him I ran away or that I was chasing some dog."
Hermione laughed at the suggestions. Ron may not believe Lion had run away from the way Lion had acted towards her but he would definitely believe that the giant cat was terrorizing the local stray dogs. "Still, it would be wise if you stayed until he left." She kissed the mark on Bellatrix's shoulder again. "Besides, you can't just fuck me and leave. That's not very nice."
Bellatrix heaved another sigh, this one childishly long and loud. "I suppose you're right."
"I am," Hermione said happily, rubbing her cheek along Bellatrix's chest as she triumphantly took in the warmth of the older witch. An eye glanced at the alarm clock on her nightstand and the grin grew. "Happy six years, by the way."
Bellatrix stiffened and jerked her head up from the pillow to stare at Hermione whose eyes sparkled in amusement. Damn Granger. Damn her clever little griffin. "Happy six years," she muttered. The sting of her tone was quickly soothed as she bent her neck to give Hermione a slow and sweet kiss. When the kiss ended, Hermione stayed close, resting her forehead against Bellatrix's. "You know, I was planning my own surprise visit to your house."
"I'm glad I beat you to it then," Bellatrix chuckled. "I would have cursed you if you suddenly appeared at my house."
Hermione knew she should feel surprised and hurt that Bellatrix would treat a surprise visit as a trap. Instead, she was proud that the older witch was taking precautions against being caught. "After you heal me up from your curse, we could have share that bottle of firewhiskey."
"So I right about that, wasn't I?" Bellatrix said with a hint of smugness. When she found the bottle safely hidden in the cabinet, she had assumed it was her gift for their anniversary. Bellatrix couldn't stop grinning like a lovesick fool for several minutes afterward. But then the clock kept ticking and the happiness soured into worry as she waited for her griffin to arrive. When the clock reached one, Bellatrix opened the bottle in a rush of childish anger. If she was right about the whiskey being her gift, then Bellatrix would enjoy it early. If it wasn't a gift or meant for someone else, well then Hermione shouldn't have made her wait. She would make up for it, obviously, hopefully in her favorite way.
Hermione let Bellatrix relish the fact that she was right about the whiskey was for her. She studied the gleam of smugness in those black eyes and glide her fingers down Bellatrix's stomach, enjoying the warm softness of her skin. "Was this unexpected visit my anniversary gift?"
Bellatrix hesitated before shaking her head. "I got you something." She pulled away from Hermione's embrace even though it was the most comfortable she had been since their last meeting. "Close your eyes."
"We're not children," Hermione laughed.
"Close them," Bellatrix said with a slight pout. "You'll ruin the surprise."
Hermione laughed again but she did as she was told.
Bellatrix hesitated again before leaving the bed. For some ridiculous reason, she was nervous about giving Hermione the gift she had spent hours perfecting. "I'll be right back." She went to the door and opened it a crack, peeping out with one eye. When she saw the coast was clear, she forced her nerves away and closed her eyes, concentrating on the mental image of her animagus form. She felt the uncomfortable ripple of magic running through her entire body and opened her slitted eyes to see the door much larger than it was a heartbeat ago. She pawed at the door to open it enough for her to slip through.
Bellatrix padded out of the room. Her tail swished as she heard the loud snores of Ron from the guest room as she walked past it. She hoped Hermione had some pick-me-up potion lying about. The poor fool was going to need it. Bellatrix entered the living room and went straight to the abandoned jacket on the plush chair. She ran a paw across the worn leather as she remembered that the jacket was Hermione's anniversary gift three years ago. It was made with normal muggle leather but Hermione had spent hours enchanting it so it was as strong as dragon hide. She reached into one of its pockets and felt something hard against her pad. Using her claws, she pulled the box out and had to quickly snatch it up with her mouth before it had the chance to slide off the chair to the floor. Bellatrix went straight back to Hermione's room and slipped inside. She closed her eyes again and pictured herself in her natural form. With another ripple of magic, she stood right inside the room. She was glad Hermione dutifully had her eyes covered or else the young witch would have surely made a joke about Bellatrix carrying the box in her mouth like a dog. She dropped the box into her hand and joined Hermione on the bed. She gently grab one of Hermione's hands and pressed the box into the other woman's palm. "You can look now."
Hermione opened her eyes slowly and stared down at the box in her hand. Her heart had begun to hammer in her chest when she first felt the velvety sides of the jewelry box. Was Bellatrix going to..; But no, the box was too big to hold a ring, and besides the older witch must know that it was too risky for Hermione to suddenly start wearing an extravagant ring. She shook her head to clear it of such ridiculous and wonderful notions. With slightly trembling fingers, she opened the box.
"Oh, Bella," Hermione breathed, her eyes going wide at the necklace nestled in the box. She traced the small lion's form, feeling the ridges of the gems that adorned the lion. She heard Bellatrix move behind her and a pale hand plucked the necklace out of the box.
With a gentleness that no one but Hermione ever saw, Bellatrix slid the chains of the necklace around Hermione's necklace and joined the two clasps. She brushed Hermione's bushy hair out of the way so the younger witch could fully appreciate the decorative lion resting over her heart. Bellatrix's fingers lingered on Hermione's hair. She loved running her fingers through it or burying her nose into the curly hair and inhaling the coconut shampoo Hermione used. "I think it rather fits you," Bellatrix whispered.
Hermione turned to give the older witch a quick kiss on her cheek. She left the bed and went to the mirror to see what the necklace looked like on her. Despite her best intentions, her eyes were drawn to the numerous marks Bellatrix left on her. She instinctively began to think of the best spell to hide the marks from wandering eyes before she caught glimpse of the lion pendent at her heart. A hand went up to trace it again. It was undoubtedly the lion of Gryffindor, but the colors were all wrong. Instead of scarlet and gold, the lion had an silver body with a emerald mane. Its eyes were black diamonds that seemed to catch Hermione's own eyes.
Bellatrix slid from the bed and walked to the younger witch, wrapping her arms around Hermione's waist and holding her close. She rested her chin on Hermione's shoulder much the same way she did when she first closed the bedroom door. "I enchanted it so everyone but the wearer and me will see that gaudy scarlet and gold." Bellatrix tilted her head to kiss Hermione's neck, her eyes still meeting Hermione's through the mirror, the irises the same shade of onyx as the diamonds. "But the eyes will stay the same."
Hermione didn't have to be told how complicated the enchantment was to produce such results. She turned around in Bellatrix's embrace and threw her arms around the older witch's shoulders. She kissed Bellatrix, putting all her affection and happiness into the act. "Thank you," Hermione whispered when they broke the kiss. She could read the utter relief flashing in Bellatrix's eyes before the older witch hid it with another hungrier kiss. She could still taste the relief on the other woman's tongue and pulled Bellatrix tighter to her.
"I'm glad you like it," Bellatrix murmured as she pulled far enough away to see the lion resting over Hermione's heart. "It took ages to find a competent jeweler to make it. I couldn't risk hiring a goblin."
"I would hope you didn't even try to find a goblin jeweler," Hermione said reflexively. Her face grew warm as she realized she could have spoiled the moment with her instinct to remind Bellatrix to be safe and hidden.
Bellatrix snorted and rolled her eyes. "No, Hermione, I didn't look for a goblin," she assured. "But the lion would be much better crafted if I had," she added with a mutter.
Hermione gave Bellatrix a quick peck on her lips to show she didn't mind. "Oh hush, it's perfect the way it is." She grabbed Bellatrix's hand and led her back to the bed. The two witches climbed onto the covers and laid entangled together.
Bellatrix tucked her head into the crook of Hermione's shoulder, a hand running up the younger witch's stomach to toy with the lion pendant. She brushed her thumb over the green mane. Perhaps it would have looked better if it was scarlet. "Are you sure you like it?" She couldn't disguise the vulnerability in her voice.
Hermione shifted so she could look into Bellatrix's eyes. "I love it," she whispered before giving the older witch a kiss. "Its absolutely wonderful."
"Good," Bellatrix murmured. The two women settled back down into the bed and soon enough, Bellatrix could hear Hermione's soft snores. She recalled how she once joked about using the silence charm on Hermione during one of the rare times she was able to convince the younger woman to spend the night. Her little griffin scowled at her and retorted that at least she didn't steal all the blankets and pillows. Bellatrix chuckled at the memory even now. How had she been so lucky to find such a feisty witch?
"Bella, wake up. Bellatrix!"
Bellatrix almost growled at Hermione to shut up and for Merlin sake, stop shaking her like a rag-doll. She opened an eye to glare at the younger witch.
Before the other woman could give a scathing insult for being woken, Hermione pointed at the door where the sound of scratching and a disgruntled cat meowing. "Ron's awake," Hermione hissed urgently. "Turn into Lion, quick!"
Muffling a bored yawn with a hand, Bellatrix shrugged and slipped off the bed. As she left the comforts of warm blankets and soft Hermione, she let the magic running through her blood to wash over her once more.
Lion turned and looked expectantly up at Hermione. She gave her own disgruntled meow and pawed at the comforter, letting her claws slide out and tug at the fabric.
"Let me get dressed first!" Hermione groaned. She went about getting her clothing but she couldn't find her bra. "Bella, have you-" she trailed off as she saw the clothing she was looking for at the paws of Lion. "Can I have that back?" She wasn't the least bit surprised when Lion shook her head and took the bra over to where her own pants laid forgotten. "Weirdo," Hermione muttered while she went to her dresser to retrieve a fresh bra.
Hermione finished dressing and went to her door. She opened it a crack and immediately Crookshanks pushed his way through, opening the crack wider as he dashed to the bed. Hermione rolled her eyes at her cat before turning to see Ron's white face. "Ron? Are you okay?"
Ron made a sound in between a groan and whine. "I, uh," he swallowed hard and leaned against the frame of the door. "I don't feel good."
"I can tell." Hermione left her room and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I have something that can help. If you can stomach it," she added when she saw Ron gulp again.
"I think I can," Ron said with a determined grimace. He followed his friend to the kitchen and watched her rummage around in one of the cabinets.
"Here it is!" Hermione exclaimed as she grabbed the last of the pick-me-up potion. She gave it to Ron and saw him gulp again as he eyed the few swallow-fulls of the potion.
Ron took out the stopper and made a face as he smelled the contents. Before his stomach could convince him not to drink it, he downed the bottle. "Ugh, I hate this stuff." He tossed the empty bottle into the rubbish can and wiped his lips to get rid of the taste of the vile potion. In just a few seconds, he felt much, much better. The pounding in his head cleared and his stomach rumbled. "Think I can have any breakfast?" he asked hopefully.
Hermione shook her head and nodded to her front door. "You don't have enough time for a home-cooked meal. Go pick something up before you meet your brother for that contact signing."
Ron's eyes went wide and the color that was creeping up on his face drained. "Blimey, Mione! Why didn't you say so before?" He looked down at his untidy clothes and blanched. "I can't go looking like this! What if Gilda shows up?"
"You'll be fine, Ron." Quickly, Hermione told him the proper incantation for the cleansing charm as she pushed at his back to get him to the front door. "Remember, gently touch your clothes with the wand, don't jab at them."
Ron nodded frantically as he muttered the incantation under his breath again and again. He was almost out the door before he looked back and said, "Thanks for letting me crash for the night. You can pick out anything from the shop, it's on the house."
"Thank you, Ron," Hermione said, already thinking about picking up a trick wand. Bellatrix was absolutely enchanted with the first one Hermione gifted her, watching it transform into a living rat that tap danced for a minute before transfiguring back into the wand. "Good luck!" she called right before Ron apparated to his shop.
Hermione sighed in relief when she heard the loud crack. Ron hadn't seemed at all interested in Lion, which was all for the better. She closed her front door and hurried back to her room. Leaving Bellatrix alone for any extended period of time was risky, especially in her room.
Just as she expected, only Crookshanks greeted her. He gave her a dignified swish of his tail before hopping off the bed and padding out of the room. "Well, good morning to you too, Crookshanks," Hermione muttered.
"What? No 'good morning' for me?" Just like the night before, Bellatrix managed to close the door and sneak up behind Hermione and pull the younger witch flush up against her. "You could have at least brought me breakfast."
Hermione stifled a sigh. Why did Ron and Bellatrix only think with their stomachs? "I was getting rid of Ron."
"Oh?" Bellatrix said delighted. "So you agree with me that he's not worth your time?"
"I never said such a thing!" Hermione exclaimed, aghast. "He's one -"
"Of your closest friends and you see him as a long-lost twin brother," Bellatrix finished for Hermione, kissing the younger witch's neck to take the sting out of her words. Well, that was her intention, but then Hermione just had to gasp in the adorable way Bellatrix loved, so she kissed the other woman again.
Hermione's eyes had slid shut at the feeling of Bella's soft lips on her neck but after the third kiss she forced them open again. If she allowed Bellatrix to continue, the two would never leave the room. "We do have to eat breakfast, you know." She could feel Bellatrix pout and suggested, "We could have it in bed."
Bellatrix hummed with her lips against Hermione's pulse point, considering her options. "Fine," she concluded. She let Hermione take a step out of her embrace before she sprung her plan into action. She wrapped her arms around the younger witch's waist and with surprising strength, hefted Hermione over her shoulder.
"Bellatrix!" Hermione squeaked. "What-"
Bellatrix interrupted Hermione yet again, striding purposely towards the neglected bed. "You said we could have breakfast in bed," she said in her sing-song voice. Before Hermione could point out the obvious that there was no food, Bellatrix tossed her on top of the covers. The younger witch was still recovering as Bellatrix crawled on top of her and pinned her arms down. She let her curls brush against Hermione's flushed cheeks and make the younger witch giggle. "Figured it out yet, little griffin?"
Hermione in fact had. She should push the older witch off of her and get them some proper food. But her arms had already acted out on their own and pull Bellatrix down for a long, hungry kiss. Damn her beautiful lion.
