"You gonna come baby?" Murmured a low husky voice in her air. The quivering blonde slumped forward on the table, released a needy moan in response. Shifting impossibly closer in the confined booth the duo were seated at, Hermione worked her fingers faster and deeper within the blonde. Ignoring the auburn in her forearm, she pumped vigorously, leaning forward and pressing her lips to the pale neck exposed to her.
"Fuck, fuck, oh my god, don't stop" whined out Fleur, "So fucking close, baby"
"Such a fucking slut Fleur. You like being fucked in this pub, away from your boyfriend. Poor Bill, just thinks you're on a night out with your friends. Yet here you are, like a whore, in between my legs at some random pub. Dirty girl, Fleur."
"Yes, so fucking dirty" keened the blonde long and drawn out as she came unraveled on her partner's fingers.
Blue eyes meeting brown across the littered table, held for a moment before breaking away.
Fleur never would've anticipated this. Bill and her had been dating for 6 months, and it was her first visit to meet his family. Sure Molly and her daughter were bitches, but everyone had been pleasant so far. And sure, Fleur knew of Ron's close friends from Hogwarts, but she hadn't known it was the level of summer month visits.
This is what proved a problem for Fleur. 2 years gave someone a lot of time to grow. Someone that she had a nine month infatuation with while she was in school. Someone who apparently knew of her infatuation and was now seated directly in front of her.
She knew. Despite her bookworm reputation, she wasn't oblivious. If the French champion wanted to come into the library, stare, and "study" from a table away then who was she too complain. That combined with the confusing, and strange interactions she had had with some of her friends she suspected, Hermione was satisfied with her conclusion, and flattered that she had managed to attract someone her caliber's attention. She thought back to the first encounter with one of Fleur's now confirmed friends.
She looked up, her hand stilling as she spotted black shoes approaching her table out of her periphery. Paused in front of the table was a dark haired, pretty Beauxbatons' student.
"Hello, can I help you?" Hermione voiced. Shifting the parchment in her arms so she would be able to write, the Beauxbatons' student, flashed a smile. "Yes, I am taking a survey of sorts around the school, to discover if you say, what the preferences are around here. Essentially, what is your type?"
"Um-"
"Would they be dark-haired or blonde, athletic? I'm assuming intelligent? Drives? Desires? Kinks?" The girl injected, finishing with a wink.
Hermione blinked twice, taken aback. "Sorry, I never got your name?-" "Camille," she supplied, "But I suppose I would say you're right, intelligence is foremost for me. Other than that I would say, I don't have any specific preferences. For girls maybe the same height or shorter than me. Guys I don't care." She paused, thinking further. "Blondes are quite nice, and its always an added bonus if they're in shape as well." Seeing the sneaky smile on Camille's face as she finished, she narrowed her eyes. "This was a survey you said? What will you do with the results?" Hermione inquired.
"Oh you know, just make some charts and whatnot, you know for personal keeping and such" Camille waved off. "Thank you very much for your assistance Hermione," leaving Hermione no time to respond before walking away.
"How did she know my name?"
Starting after that interaction, Hermione began arriving to her usual secluded desk to find the French champion, Fleur diligently worked at the table in front of hers. Hermione would situate herself as normal, with the exception of occasionally glancing up to meet blue eyes that she could feel trained on her.
It was cute. But in-between helping Harry not die and Ron's nonsense, she honestly didn't really feel a desire to start anything at the time. She admired her during dinners and her eyes would follow when she spotted the blonde in the hall, but she never made any attempt to approach her. In part, she was curious to see if Fleur ever would herself.
So the year ended and things were never said.
Imagine Hermione's surprise when she descended the stairs behind Harry and Ron to see Bill accompanied with the Frenchwoman. Feeling a light fluttering in her stomach, she greeted them with a smile.
"Hey Bill, you alright?" She asked while leaning in for a hug.
"Yeah, but look at you, have you grown since last year?"
Hermione laughed, "Maybe a slight bit, I haven't really measured so I'm not sure." Turning to the blonde by his side, she spoke to her for the first time.
"Hey Fleur, I don't believe we've properly spoken before, how are you?"
She wished she had spoken to her before. She wish she could've been more prepared for her voice.
"Hello Hermione, no I don't think we have. How are you?"
Fuck. Standardly, most people fall through the eyes. That wasn't the case here.