Tell Me Your Secrets
Author: Ladyfun
Rating: M. Why? Because.
Summary: Hermione and Fleur, in the post-war world, find themselves in the unsettling role of colleagues with more than a bit of lingering and forbidden attraction towards one another, despite their obligations to others. One fateful evening, courtesy of the firewhiskey, they admit their repressed secrets and darkest desires, to one another. Problem is, one can't unring a bell, once rung...nor the actions that follow. Angsty Fleurmione!
Disclaimers: I don't own Harry Potter or any of its merchandising- all of this is in wholesome, non-profit fun. Ownership belongs to JK Rowling as everyone in the free world is aware. Will have some kinks in later chapters, disclaimers forthcoming as needed...
A/N: A little bit of NSFW and a hint at the Summary events - we're getting closer to that fire whiskey moment for these two.
Chapter 9. Lies My Mother Told Me
They were the ying, they were the yang.
Fleur was the question, and Hermione was the answer.
They completed one another.
It was so obvious, as they touched each other in the most intimate of ways, it seemed impossible they hadn't seen it, before.
The Golden string pulsed bright, when Fleur finally entered Hermione.
Earlier, Fleur had delighted in tormenting the younger witch, having circled her opening with her fingers, and teasing her clit with her tongue until it was as hard as a walnut ...for nearly fifteen minutes. Finally, Hermione threatened to pull all of Fleur's hair out of her head if she didn't get on with it. Fleur chuckled, raising her head from between Hermione's legs. She rose up, to allow her body to hover over Hermione's; she gave her a gentle kiss, leaning to the side, to allow her access with her right arm.
She then thrust, forcefully, with three fingers, into Hermione's wet opening, as it pulsed around her fingers.
Hermione's eyes slammed shut, and her back arched off the bed.
"Fuck! Oh my God…." She uttered. "Ohhhh…"
She lost the ability to speak, as Fleur pulled out, and relentlessly thrust back in.
Hermione was so wet; Fleur didn't bother with the formality of going slow. Grinding her fingers, in and out of the Golden Girl, Fleur was gritting her teeth in a decidedly non-fleuresque manner; as she felt Hermione's walls begin to vibrate, and tighten, the blonde let a salacious expression cross her face. She was in absolute awe of Hermione's pleasure, and the fact she was the one providing her that pleasure.
It was amazing, to her.
As Hermione clenched inside, Fleur curled her fingers, just so….grazing the rough part of the inside of Hermione that caused her pelvis to absolutely spasm, with each thrust. Fleur's thumb pressed down on the hard bead at the hood of Hermione's entrance, causing her to buck and writhe further.
Fleur's head was nuzzling into the side of Hermione's neck, sucking her, and biting her, hard …as she cried out, in her final moment, and she climaxed.
She released a gush of fluid into Fleur's hand, as Fleur continued to stroke the inside of Hermione's sensitive vagina with long, steady strokes.
Hermione's body continued to spasm, as Fleur milked every last drop of the orgasm out of her mate. Fleur murmured soft, gentle words, into Hermione, as the younger girl trembled, turning inward to clutch Fleur for dear life.
"Oh my God…I've never…oh, Fleur, I've never felt anything like that, before…I just…"
"Shhhhh." Fleur murmured, reassuringly. "Itz okay, 'ermione. I have you." She was softly stroking her hair, and the smaller woman curled into Fleur, clutching her. They held each other, silently. Fleur daydreamed to herself, wishing she could go back in time and reassure her seventeen year old self...the one who was such a hot mess, brimming with hormones after spotting Hermione for the first time, that it would work out in the end. That as a grown woman, after the horrors of war, failed marriages, failed careers...she would finally find her happy ending.
Ironically, her happy ending would arrive in the bowels of Hogwarts, where it had all started for her in the first place.
Her seventeen year old self would probably react to that fact like a typical teenager, Fleur mused, but...her grown up self finally smiled, amused by the serendipity of it all. Hermione's breathing was so even, Fleur was sure she had dozed off. After a moment, she disproved that theory, popping her head up, looking quite dazed and grinning in the goofiest manner. She looked into the eyes into the Cerulean Blues of her lover.
"Well...I'm sorry, Fleur. I seemed to have made quite a mess."
"Itz okay, ma belle." Fleur shrugged. "We're even. I bit you, a little harder zan I sought, originally. In fact, you are, um…bleeding a little." Fleur looked sheepish. " A lot, actually. I zink I may 'ave to cast a 'ealing spell, tout suite. I'm sorry…"
Fleur went to reach for her wand, to correct the wound from her "act of passion" on Hermione's neck, only to have her arm slammed down on the bed.
"Leave it." Commanded the brunette. "I like it, Fleur."
Fleur looked down at Hermione, surprised. The dark look on her face caused Fleur's nipples to harden, suddenly. In that moment, Hermione Granger managed to arouse Fleur, even more than she already was, if that was even possible.
"Now...let's see." Hermione made a 'come hither' motion. "La bas, ici, Fleur. We have some…unfinished business, to address."
Fleur grinned.
As Fleur slid closer to Hermione, the Golden Girl realized she -perhaps- spoke with too much Gryffindor bravissimo, and she panicked. She realized she had no idea what the hell to do in the bedroom with anyone, much less one of the female persuasion.
"Fleur..." She cleared her throat. "I've never done this before."
Fleur calmly reassured her lover when she expressed concern regarding her sexual inexperience. The Frenchwoman gently advised her, sagely, to just try to do the same thing on her, for now, that she had just had done to herself.
"Clearly, it worked." Offered Fleur, waggling her eyebrows.
Nodding, the Golden Girl blushed. "That it did!" Hermione hummed. "Fleur, is it bad that I can't wait to just... jam my fingers in you?"
"Non!" Fleur laughed. "You wouldn't believe ze sinful zings zat ran through my head earlier, az I violated your body. I get it."
"Of course you do..." grinned Hermione, offering her lover a very chaste peck on the lips.
That was the end of the innocent kisses offered by Mademoiselle Granger, of course. After all, when she commits to something, she really commits to it. Her novice lips began to explore the body of the Goddess she inexplicably inherited, with a newfound passion; she was determined to feel and taste every inch of her unbelievably amazing bounty.
My mate. Hermione acknowledged quietly, to herself.
Unfortunately, Hermione wouldn't get her expressed desire of experiencing Fleur's climax in a tactile manner, using her fingers; it would turn out. Fleur was so utterly aroused, that Hermione's mere exploration with her tongue threw the French witch over the edge, resulting in a startling and thunderous climax.
Fleur apologized, profusely. Hermione merely laughed.
The same result occurred, during Fleur's second orgasm, as well. The Beauxbaton alum lasted slightly longer on the second time, but only minimally so. When Hermione's tongue penetrated her entrance, thrusting inside deep into Fleur's opening, and rimming it... Fleur lost it, again.
As she came down from her high, she exclaimed in disgust, "Merde! I 'ave never been zis eazy!" She huffed, embarrassed. "I'm like a twelve year old boy!"
"Fleur, it's okay..." insisted Hermione, with a grin, wiping Fleur's arousal off her face that had drenched her mouth and chin. "I'll get my chance to use my hands, I'm sure, at some point. Really! I'm not complaining, dear."
And Hermione finally did, later that evening...during Fleur's fifth orgasam.
XOXOXOX
Despite their clearly changed relationship, Fleur and Hermione refused to compromise on a few things. One thing was in regards to the Friday Beverage Night schedule; after all, they were friends, first, long before they were lovers. F.N.B. was non-negotiable, and they forced themselves out of the bed on Fridays to talk to one another.
The second thing was a new tradition instituted unilaterally by the Golden Girl, champion of the underserved and misunderstood.
To Fleur's chagrin, Hermione required that Sunday afternoons were her time to spend with Fleur's Veela. Regardless of how busy they were, what the work demands became, Sundays were non-negotiable. Initially, Hermione claimed it was to help her lose her fear of flying- the Veela was an excellent teacher, and very patient with Hermione's panic.
So, dutifully, Fleur would transform every Sunday, allowing her delighted Veela to spend the afternoon with the woman it loved as well—just as much as its human counterpart did.
Fleur-the-Veela took the flying duties seriously. It delighted at Hermione gripping on for dear life, initially, then less so, as she grew more proficient in flying. After a mere two weeks, she stopped throwing up. On the fourth week, she was able to master "Nap of the Earth" flight with Fleur-the-Veela, for the first time.
On the Veela's end, it branched out, somewhat as well. Hermione would bring a range of greens—Fleur-the-Veela discovered a personal liking for Cilantro and Kale equilivant to French Endive and Asian Ginger Root. It was a fortunate discovery, as the latter were very difficult to obtain in Britain, especially during the winter months. The Veela confirmed a hatred of red peppers, and promptly regurgitated them onto Hermione's shoes, much to her disgust.
Fleur-the-Veela considered it payback for all the times Hermione threw up on her feathers.
Mostly, they grew comfortable with one another, and Hermione grew more proficient with her French. Oddly, she was too intimidated to speak Fleur's native tongue with her while in her human form; but not to Fleur-the-Veela. Oddly enough, the fierce Veela seemed more tolerant of Hermione's self-perceived imperfections, to Hermione's mind.
Ridiculous, of course, as Hermione knew they were one and they same beings; Fleur as a human, Fleur as a Veela.
Yet, they felt very different to Hermione, however. Although it had been somewhat of a pretense, in the beginning, this request to fly; Hermione had little to no interest in it, truth be told. It was merely a vehicle for Hermione to force Fleur to become more comfortable with the creature side of her, at first. Now, however, it was something precious to her; a cherished time together neither Hermione nor the Fleur-the-Veela would sacrifice, for anything.
The Veela preferred Hermione take care of her molt, rather than human Fleur, for example.
It was on one such session, when Hermione patiently tended to the Veela's tail feathers, a discovery was made. Hermione was gently plucking the old feathers from the base of her tail wing. She gently plucked six feathers to allow for the new growth; and the human held on to the six feathers as instructed by the Veela. She did more than that, actually, she treated them as though they were precious gold, which did not escape the watchful eye of the Veela. She then reached into her beaded bag.
I've been doing some reading, Fleur, and I think this would help the site of your skin where you lost the feathers. She communicated to the Veela in their telepathic manner.
What its it, my little detective?
Well, Hermione continued, as she reached into the beaded bag and retrieve a small vial, This is essence of vitamin E oil. It works for humans when they have something called "folliculitis" – an irritation in the hair shaft. I read that birds have an even larger requirement for Vitamin E, and your metabolism consumes it faster. Would you like to try a small rub and see if it helps?
Yes, please! My skin always burns when the feathers come out – Normally, I partially transform back to human and have human Fleur pull them out – but she's so rough! The fierce Veela looked almost vulnerable, for a brief moment. The skin hurts, for weeks. I'm willing to try anything.
Hermione laughed, as she gingerly rubbed in the oil, and heard the purring.
Your purr is different than Human Fleur's purr, did you know that?
Different glottis, different vocal cords. You humans do everything on such a small scale.
Really? Grinned Hermione. Then why is human Fleur's purr…louder than yours?
What? The Veela was indignant. That wimpy little blonde? Impossible!
It was hard to be too enraged when the gentle ministrations of the Golden Girl's hands felt so damn soothing on her backside. The Veela continued to purr. If I weren't afraid you'd stop rubbing me, I'd pin you down and show you a real purr, little girl!
Hermione laughed. Well, I suppose my eardrum thanks you, then, for small kindnesses, Fleur. I think I'm about— She trailed off.
The Veela looked down at the much smaller girl. What, Hermione? Did something happen?
Hermione looked up at the Veela, brows furrowed. Fleur? I….um. Well, I'm not sure how to say this, exactly. I…I guess I'm just surprised, really…I mean…
The Veela craned its neck around, red eyes regarding the brunette. What is it, Hermione?
Hermione raised up her hands, as she gestured emphatically. I mean, there's nothing wrong with it…I just didn't expect…
What?
Fleur, you appear to be a….um. Well, a male….for lack of a better term...
Yes, Hermione, that is what happens with Veela who humans mate with other females. Procreation has to happen, somehow, right?
Hermione's eyes grew large. But…but…Fleur! I….well, I haven't shied away from anything we've done, of course…but… She gestured downward, towards the Veela's enlarged member.
Fleur-the-Veela's eyes were a little sad.
Hermione looked apologetic. It's just that you're, uh, ridiculously large, Fleur. I'm not sure that I could…
Fleur's talons were scraping into the dirt, nervously. You don't have to, Hermione. It's not expected of you. A human has never mated with a Veela while in their Veela form; only Veela with Veela.
Hermione tried to keep her expression neutral. Oh. Why is that, out of curiosity?
Fleur continued to scratch the ground. You, curious? Never! After Hermione's perfunctory giggle, the Veela continued. It's because Veela tend to be a little….passionate, with their lovemaking. They scrape, they claw, and they bite and peck each other. The dominant one will try to mark its mate. It is a very primitive urge, one that is inevitable, I'm told. The few times that it has been tried, the Veela killed its human mate. So, it is forbidden, in the Veela culture, as a result.
Hermione's expression grew dark. So, you're telling me, we can never have children?
The Veela looked at Hermione sadly. Oh, you and human Fleur can have children – you can adopt, you can get a donor – any number of things. Even if human Fleur carries a child, however, it will never be regarded as her true Veela offspring, however, by the Clan…or by me. And it wouldn't survive.
Why? Hermione asked, simply.
Fleur bowed its crown. Because my primitive nature wouldn't allow it – I would kill the child.
The Veela, clearly in distress, began to spread its wings to fly away.
Wait! Fleur, stop! Hermione said, angry. You don't always get to run away, damn you! She gripped her upper tail coverts, refusing to let her fly away.
She walked around to the front of the Veela, gently petting her, on her bowed head. Hermione continued stroking her face at the dorsum of her beak until she soothed, and spoke out loud, for the first time.
"Don't worry. There is a solution to this, that someone hasn't thought of yet…I'm sure of it."
No, Hermione, there isn't. We are an ancient and a proud race – we have existed longer than humans.
"You doubt me, my intellect, my ability to research, Fleur? Really?"
The Veela chuckled. I would never dare to do that.
"Good, then. Would you mind changing back into your," Hermione gestured with air quotes, "Inferior human form, then, so we can head back? It's almost time for dinner in the Great Hall. Minerva will have our assess if we're late again."
As you wish, my mate.
XOXOXOXOXO
Fleur could see the wheels turning in her brilliant mate's mind. Fleur felt like she had to address the elephant in the room, before they got back to the castle.
"Look…it iz what it iz, 'ermione."
"But, Fleur! You... you're like royalty, practically! You're next in line...you can't give up, on an heir!"
Fleur laughed bitterly. "C'est la vie. I cannot produce an offspring, 'ermione. We will 'ave children, if you wish; you will 'ave to carry zem. "
"But they would not be considered an heir to carry on your family line, Fleur!"
"Well…no. But zat iz…" Fleur waived her hands in the air. "…Irrelevant, to me. Ze only zing zat matters, to me, iz you. Us."
"While that is perhaps the sweetest, most romantic sentiment I have ever been given, Fleur... I'm sorry. I don't accept it. I don't accept that there is not a solution, somehow." Hermione said, determined, as they finally arrived at the Great Hall.
Fleur's eyes were sad, despite her laugh. "Well, I suppoze anyzing iz possible, wiz you, 'ermione. I mean, look at your crazy language skills!"
Hermione looked confused. "What, you mean my French? I'm still not all that proficient, Fleur."
Fleur opened the heavy entrance door to the Hall for her mate, gallantly, ushering her in. As they walked to the Head Table together, the usual dozens of eyes following them were omnipresent as they made their way to the front, together. Fleur gently guided them towards their seats at the head table, her hand in the small of Hermione's back.
Fleur whispered back her response. "No, ma belle. I meant your Veela skills."
"What Veela skills?" Hermione hissed back.
Fleur looked at Hermione, incredulously. "Vous plasnetez…"
Hermione looked at her blankly.
"Well, 'ermione….what do you think you've been doing, with my Veela form, all these Sundays? You've been talking—quite well, I might add—to my other self in the secret language of the Veela!"
The Transfiguration professor abruptly stopped walking, nearly causing both Fleur and Hermione to trip at the base of the stairs of their table. She wheeled her head around, staring at Fleur, her mouth agape. Fleur looked at Hermione, the latter realizing the French witch was completely serious. Minerva raised her eyebrows, inquisitively, watching her two junior facility closely.
For the first time, Hermione was literally speechless.
TBC
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