It was but a whisper in the wind. "'Ermy..."
The pluck of a violin string. "'Ermy...". A baby's coo. Opening her eyes all she could see were swirls of muted color, she wanted to touch it, grasp it, but her arms just didn't want to move. Flitting in and out of consciousness, her brain fought to finally awaken. The lilted voice pulled her mind out of the depths of confusion.
"'Ermy...'Ermy...wake up..." Her eyes strained to focus upon the pristine face of the blonde witch hovering over her. Strands of silvery blonde hair swept across her cheek, the feather light ministrations like a lover's caress. "Réveillez-vous…"
The brunette's limbs groaned in protest as she struggled to sit up on the plush bed. Her chest was still very, very sore. Immediately her fingers traveled up toward her clavicle, tracing the delicate skin. A long spongy scar was all that remained of Moody's attack; it was still tender to the touch. "How...how long..." Fleur stepped back to give her some room to ease herself into a sitting position.
"At least ten 'ours..." They sat in silence, and Fleur remained rooted at the edge of the bed. Hermione held her arms open wide, welcoming the Frenchwoman to her, but Fleur would not budge; her arms were held tight across her chest. Hermione was instantly stung. The blonde refused a second time, and that, to Hermione, hurt worse than the spike that had been impaled through her just hours before.
"Fleur...I am so, so sorry...I never meant to get sucked in so deep...Moody he's-"
"Don't lie to me. 'Ermione...why didn't you tell me 'zat you were going to attack 'zee Burrow! You knew all along didn't you!" Fleur demanded, the volume of her voice steadily increasing. The bedridden witch twisted in confusion, Fleur looked different. Her face still appeared feline; her eyes still a profound color of jade with a single slit pupil. Her transformation back to human was not quite complete. "And to make matters worse…you return to me near death!" Her arms flew skyward in a dramatic gesture of exasperation.
"Fleur I-" She could only sputter, at a complete loss over what to say. What possible explanation was there? She forced herself to sit up straighter against the mahogany headboard, but before she could settle upon which words to offer next, Fleur had already begun to yell.
"'Ow long were you planning on keeping 'zis from me? Did you 'zink I would not find out?" Fleur shrieked; her fangs gnashing together with a snapping noise. Hands sprung forward on either side of Hermione's shoulders, half inch long claws piercing into the mattress. The brunette was pinned under the quarter-Veela's body, the pressure on her chest causing her to cry out in pain; everything still hurt. But the pleas from her were ignored. Fleur only pushed harder.
"I was going to...I swear! Ahh! You're hurting me!" Hermione protested between her teeth, squirming beneath Fleur's weight. The Veela leaned her head in even closer, her hot breath penetrating the other girl's ears. The pointed ends of her fangs grazed the soft skin.
"I learned from Bill...I floo'd 'im earlier to return a message and see 'ow 'e was doing…'e told me 'zee Burrow 'ad been an ambush by 'zee Death Eaters during a meeting of 'zee Order...and 'zat Moody 'ad been killed. Someone even tortured Ginny, 'e says she 'asn't come out of 'er room yet!"
"Bloody bitch deserved it!" The words had flown from her brain to her lips before she even realized it. Wide eyed, Hermione's hands flew to her mouth, clamping over it forcefully. Fleur gaped at her before baring her fangs once more. A hollow and crackling growl rumbled in the depths of Fleur's throat, reminiscent of a lion or tiger prepared to kill. Sweat was now beading at Hermione's hairline as terror gripped her. Fleur's anger was volatile. Two pulsating appendages threatened to burst through her back a second time. Hermione knew she was surely done for if Fleur were to fully transform again; for this time she'd be the target. Springing onto all fours Fleur now had the brunette cornered, drawing nearer with each step. The growl only grew louder.
"Fleur...be reasonable! Let me explain myself!" She was begging now, possibly for her own life.
The only response from the Veela was an intense snarl and a broad swipe from one her clawed hands. Luckily Hermione was faster, whipping a pillow to take the brunt of the hit, and it disintegrated in a splatter of feathers.
"Violence only begets more violence! If you go fully Veela…I don't know how to stop you! Please Fleur! Stop!" The brunette screamed. Grasping at the cushion, Fleur flung it aside in a sweeping arc, and she reared back to strike again. Her mouth opened as wide as it possibly could, her fangs fully bared; the wing appendages on her back about to rip through the fabric of her shirt. This time the growl had exploded into an all out roar.
Hermione wailed and resigned to her fate. Trembling arms shot up to shield her face, and the Veela pulled away instantly at the sight. Eyes shut tightly, Fleur turned her head to the side and she fought to return back into a human. She stumbled to the floor, wrapping her head in her arms, and she staggered around writhing wildly. A few whimpers escaped her lips as Fleur finally returned to normal. Hair veiled her face as she gazed back at Hermione with normal, albeit blood shot eyes.
Fleur looked up to face her lover. "'Ermione...I don't know 'ow much of 'zis I can 'andle..." Her breaths were frantic and heaving.
Now it was Hermione's turn to grow incensed. "Ginny has treated me like scum. Her family, save for Bill of course, has given you the cold shoulder for so long. You've said it yourself! Ron does not and never has shown me one ounce of respect. And you know that. He has done the same to you as well!" she ran a frustrated hand through her curls before letting out a sigh, flopping back to sink into the mattress. "Look, I know it was wrong of me to keep the plans from you, but understand my frustrations too Fleur. When I saw Ginny with her wand aimed at me last night, something just snapped inside me...my love for you, my need to protect you...it's eating me alive."
Fleur walked near the bed again. "I am unsure 'ow to take 'zat confession 'Ermione. One 'zing 'zough 'zat I am certain of: you 'ave too much anger...and so do I, I suppose… " Fleur slumped over, her shoulders slackened. "'Zee entire time you were unconscious I found myself feeling so 'urt, so angry 'zat you lied...'zat you 'ave 'urt people...I wanted leave you...just on 'zee virtue 'zat 'eet would be what 'eez expected." Fleur paused for a beat, her lower lip beginning to quiver. "But I 'zen 'zink about all 'zat you 'ave done, all 'zat you 'ave sacrificed for me...'eet causes me much confusion! So I 'ave come to realize 'zat you are like a fallen angel. My fallen angel. I shudder to 'zink of where I might be 'eef I did not 'ave you...but do not for once believe 'zat 'eez all I feel...never 'een my whole life 'as someone shown me even an ounce of 'zee love and admiration 'zat you do. Not even my own family. You look at me and see past my 'zrall...my 'air and looks...you see 'zee real me, and you love me for 'eet.". Tears formed in her eyelids and she sniffled to prevent them from falling. "Seeing all of your wounds…'zee blood everywhere, and 'zat spike poking out of you...'eet was too much to 'andle...knowing you took 'zat for me. I 'zought for sure you would die 'zen and 'zere. 'Zee transformation, 'eet was uncontrollable once 'eet began…and 'zee rage…'eet made me want to 'urt you!"
Hermione gave a nod. "I…I understand…"
Fleur was now crying. "I told you not to kill anyone, and I was 'zee reason you almost died...and now I almost killed you..."
"Fleur you know that's not true...you were upset…well extremely so…" Hermione began with a nervous shrug. "Look, can we just move on for now…could you...could you hold me? I just...need to feel you."
Fleur obliged with a small smile amid her tears, climbing into the bed and allowing the brunette to rest her head on her chest. Fleur idly traced the veins of Hermione's arms with her fingertips. Her head turned slightly and captured Hermione's lips in a soft kiss. The brunette opened her mouth to welcome Fleur's tongue and the Veela responded in kind. Hands came to rest on Hermione's hipbones, and with a gentle tug Fleur pulled their bodies impossibly close together. Hermione pulled away slowly, and ended with an encore kiss that was more of a tiny peck on Fleur's now swollen lips. Their foreheads touched and for several quiet minutes they each dwelled on the sight of the other, both eternally grateful for the love they still shared. And relief washed over Hermione like a tidal wave.
The silence was finally ended by a simple query from the brunette. "Does it hurt?"
"Does what 'urt?"
"The transformation..."
"Very much." Wriggling free of Hermione's embrace, she turned and lifted her shirt, exposing her bare back. Running up her shoulder blades were two fresh scars, the elastic scar tissue in the process of gradually healing. They both were at least four inches in length and each was bright red and raw. Hermione reached a single hand to trace one of the scars, it was still tender as even the soft touches caused Fleur to grimace. "'Zee wings are 'zee most excruciating...like being cut open wiz a knife…'Zat was only the second time 'een my entire life 'zat I 'ave fully transformed. I 'ave come close, but never all 'zee way."
"When was the first?"
Fleur turned her head away, stammering over what she planned to say. "My-My fazzer...'e was a very strict man. 'E demanded so much of my sister and myself...you are Delacour! 'E would always say. Nuzzing less 'zan perfection. My sister and I were 'een Beaubaxtons togezzer for only one year."
"The year of the Tri-Wizard tournament."
"Oui. I needn't go 'eento 'zee details of 'zat year but when I 'ad returned 'ome to France...my Fazzer was utterly ashamed of moi since I came 'een last during 'zee most disastrous tournament 'een ages." Fleur struggled with her words. "My fazzer made me 'zee example of what not to be to my little sister. We engaged 'een a most terrible argument 'zee night I 'eard 'im say 'zose words to Gabrielle, and 'eet got so bad 'e moved to strike me but Gabrielle pushed 'im away. In anger 'e was going to 'it 'er and I felt 'zee transformation coming out of nowhere. 'Eet was uncontrollable once 'eet began. I tried to maul my own fazzer, and 'zough I wanted to protect 'er, I nearly attacked Gabrielle too. 'Zee look of 'orror on 'er face still 'aunts me to 'zis day." The blonde's voice was now ragged, and Hermione attempted to calm her with gentle rubbing on her back. "'E barricaded me 'een anuzzer room, and apparated away wiz Gabrielle."
"Oh Merlin…baby I'm so, so sorry…I had no idea…"
"'Zen I destroyed 'zee parlor and dining rooms of my family's home in my rage."
Hermione snorted, but quickly regaining composure knowing the response to be highly inappropriate at a time like this. Fleur shot her an incredulous look.
"You...destroyed an entire wing of your parents house? That's wicked!"
"'Ermione I'm being serious 'ere!"
"Fleur Delacour, destroyer of dining rooms, the same Fleur Delacour who is rendered petrified by insects and the smell of stale cheese." The brunette was now laughing, the noise drawing forth a smirk on Fleur's features. "Not a even a tea cup was spared of her wrath. Teacups. Oh the humanity! When will this wanton porcelain massacre end?". Hermione did her best impression of a BBC newscaster. Laughter descended into uproarious guffaws and Fleur's hands latched onto Hermione's side, tickling her relentlessly. The misery that had but mere moments ago saturated the bedroom had been washed away with their joyful laughter.
"The Veela are illusive by nature, and often resort to tickling as a means to bring down their prey." Hermione continued her charade amid her uncontrollable squirming.
"'Ave you 'eard? 'Zee wily Veela 'as claimed anuzzer victim!" After a few more minutes of cavorting about on the bed, the two lovers collapsed in a heaving pile of limbs, still laughing. "Oh I needed 'zat mon ange…'eet feels like ages since I last smiled so much."
"And what a beautiful smile it is too…don't keep it hidden love." Hermione's hands came to cup Fleur's cheeks and she placed a kiss on the French woman's lips before speaking once more in a sobered tone. "Please, believe me when I tell you that this is almost over. I promise." Another kiss.
"I wanted to tell you before…Bill 'as also asked me to come see 'im at Shell Cottage...and I intend to go...will you go wiz me?"
"That must mean…the jinx is lifted! You'll be able to move in." Hermione chewed on her bottom lip. "Are...are you sure? Is that alright with Narcissa?"
As if on cue, the blonde haired Malfoy matriarch suddenly entered the room, crossing toward Fleur in graceful strides, eventually resting a hand on the Frenchwoman's shoulder. "Of course it is. In fact I had to convince her to go, for she is just as stubborn as you. So yes, I am letting her go." Narcissa's stony gaze did not leave Hermione, and this made the young witch feel somewhat vulnerable. She shifted uncomfortably upon the mattress, her arms instinctively pulling her lover tightly against her chest. "Fleur is not safe here, the Dark Lord is growing restless, and it is evident that he is nervous about something. Fleur will be much safer elsewhere. If Mr. Weasley has indeed convinced his mother to lift the jinx, Fleur should go there post haste."
Hermione felt the tears pushing at her now closed eyelids. "Then what am I supposed to do?" She hung her head and her limp curls fell over her face. Her voice was wavering, each syllable a tremble of her lips. Fleur drew nearer and reached a hand to cup Hermione's cheek. "I am so very confused...is what I've been doing...right?"
Narcissa heaved a sigh. "In times like this, who is to say what is right or wrong? For the present time, you need to think about what is best for you both. I, as much as you Miss Gaunt, want to see Fleur safe and away from this darkness that is hell bent on consuming the world." Narcissa turned to address Fleur, her tone grave. "Your transformation last night has undeniably left an impression on the Dark Lord, and the last thing I'd like to happen is for you, Fleur, to be swept into this madness. That is why you must get out of here. I myself would follow suit, but I have been with Lucius for so long, I fear he will become even more broken than he already is. And then of course there is my dear Draco..."
Hermione frowned. "Baby, I want to do what I can to help you earn your freedom."
"'Eez 'zis 'zee path 'zat you 'zink will 'elp you do 'zat?" Fleur asked quietly, her thumb now gently grazing the skin of Hermione's cheek. She tucked a stray curl behind her lover's ear.
Hermione nodded weakly into the caress. "Yes...I want a future for us…if I don't see this through to the end…that future may not come to fruition."
"So do I..." Fleur struggled with her next words. Hermione pulled the French witch down next to her, easing down the sheets so Fleur could lie down. Narcissa gave a sad smile and turned to leave the two lovers alone. Hot tears began to form in Fleur's eyes as she captured Hermione's lips with her own in a soft kiss. "I am frightened 'Ermione."
"Me too..."
Everything came to a screeching halt when the three women were interrupted by the arrival of Bellatrix Lestrange. The bedraggled woman leant against the doorframe, her face still bloodied and dirty from the raid.
She had but one question.
"Anyone fancy a night out on the town?"
Hermione fidgeted with her flat cap; the wind was insistent on ripping it clear off her head. Fleur had an arm looped around her right, her heels tapping on the sidewalk. Try as she might to keep steady with Fleur's pace, Hermione still walked with a slight limp, each step sending pain through her wounds. The attack had been a week ago, and everything still was tender. Classes were but an interlude leading toward this weekend. The Jubilee tomorrow.
A few strides ahead of the lovers was Bellatrix Lestrange, walking at a fast clip brandishing her crooked wand like a gun, sweeping it from side to side.
All three women were dressed to the nines; Fleur in a sleek pencil dress, Hermione in a tight vest and slacks, and Bellatrix a form fitting ebony strapless cocktail dress. The elder witch had cast a multitude of glamour charms on herself, the rages of Azkaban but a distant memory on her now painted face. In fact, she looked nothing short of stunning.
It was nearly midnight, the damp city air fetid and thick from the low tide. Fleur's eyes flitted nervously at her surroundings, and she gripped Hermione's arm tightly. They were somewhere in the outskirts of London, traversing through a jungle of large brick warehouses, ducking through tight alleyways every so often.
Bellatrix halted in front of a dilapidated tool shed, built into the side of one of the crumbling edifices of a particularly large warehouse. She pulled out a make up compact from the clutch she was carrying and absently powdered her nose. Hermione impulsively clung to Fleur, as she noticed the scarcely dressed blonde begin to shiver with foreboding. Bellatrix drew her wand and struck the rusted padlock of the shed twice, and without warning the door slid open like an automatic entry of a convenience store. They were unexpectedly inundated with the sonic boom of a throbbing bass line and the roar of a distant, but nonetheless large crowd. Once they entered the rotting shed Hermione could feel her very eardrums pulsate with the thumping music and her eyes grew wide in surprise; behind the tool shed was an entire city street. It reminded Hermione of Diagon Alley...if it were more of a red light district.
"Welcome to Caligula Boulevard. The cesspool of wizarding London." Bellatrix sneered. "Come now...we have a meeting to attend. Stick close and talk to no one."
It was crowded. Many of the shops that lined the street were adorned with garish decorations and neon lighting. They passed many scantily clad men and women making them diverse offers of sexual favors for money. Drunken revelers stumbled out of bars in fits of laughter, and junkies were crumpled over on the curbside, twitching every so often. Pole dancing mannequins moved seductively in the windows of a magical sex shop; among other enchanted objects sold in the store. Hermione had a double take; it never once occurred to her that such places existed in wizarding England. Fleur, on the other hand, eyed the colorful display much in the way that a child looks at presents under a Christmas tree. They passed a small inn that had posted several rates, for everything from an overnight stay to 30 minutes.
They continued to move among the people for a few more blocks before Bellatrix halted them with an outstretched arm.
"Here we are…" Bellatrix yelled over the noise. "Shall we?"
They approached a very long line of well-dressed witches and wizards, leading to the front doors of what appeared to be a very posh nightclub. In garish neon lighting, the words Toujours Pur would slither like a snake across the club's front marquee. The hopeful partygoers awaiting entry shivered with the cold night air and many tapped their feet with impatience. Hermione and Fleur made for the back of the line but Bellatrix simply strode past the throngs of people as if she were royalty, marching right up to the bouncer; a hulking half giant covered in piercings and tattoos. Bellatrix merely held her dark mark aloft in the lighting and gave a slight nod toward Hermione and Fleur. The bouncer regarded them with a flick of his massive head before pushing open the front doors.
"Dey're waiting for yous in da back." His baritone voice could be felt within Hermione's chest as they entered the club.
All around them scantily clad couples gyrated against one another with the beat of the music. Hands groped, legs hooked together, mouths latched on to one another, the entire scene intensely sexual. Women danced with men. Women danced with other women. Men with men. People engaged in sexual acts out in the open, completely unphased by the sea of people that moved in synchrony around them. The decadence in the club was palpable. The air thick with the smell of sweat and sex. And immediately Fleur seemed to fall under its spell, her hips moved along with the beat. It was hot and humid, each moving body like a furnace of wanton lust. They had only made it halfway across the club floor and already the three women had a slick sheen of sweat on their skin. A group of men clad entirely in black suits surrounded them and Bellatrix sighed, "Security. Ignore them."
"Where are we?" Hermione shouted over the roar of the music, though it hardly sounded like such. Already her ears were buzzing.
"Toujours Pur. A Palace of self-indulgence dedicated to the noble house of Black." Bellatrix said as flagged down a shot girl. She grabbed a shot glass of alcohol from the tray for herself, swallowing the contents in a whip like flinging of her neck. "Only pure bloods are allowed inside."
The crowd was indeed varied, but Hermione couldn't believe what she was seeing as she spied a half naked woman kissing a centaur deeply, her hands caressing his naked barrel chest. Around his neck was a shining phylactery. Hermione's eyes wandered over to her lover whom had chosen to even accent the piece of crystal now resting in the valley of her breasts. Fleur was now pressing her body into Hermione's back, and she snaked a hand down the length of Hermione's torso, eventually reaching down toward the apex of the brunette's thighs. Her thumb lazily grazed the fabric barrier that contained Hermione's sex, before dipping underneath the seam of her panties. The brunette chewed her lip in an attempt to stifle a whimper of pleasure as Fleur pinched the now throbbing nub. Gently she pried the lustful blonde from her body.
"The Dark Lord wants us to finalize the strategy for the Jubilee tomorrow, and here is a safe haven far away from the prying eyes of the ministry to hold a quick meeting. And well, thought it might be fun for you and Fleur. You know, to take the edge off." Bellatrix smiled coyly with a manicured eyebrow peaked.
"This was your idea?" Hermione gawked and Fleur pointed toward the bar with a smile.
"I am excited 'Ermione! When you are done wiz your meetings, I demand a dance!" Fleur tugged Hermione's arm playfully. "I'm off to get a drink, come find me by 'zee bar mon amor! I'll be waiting...". Her manicured nail trailed along the skin of Hermione's jaw line as she made her way toward the bar. The security guards stood confused until Hermione snagged one of the burly men harshly by the collar bringing his ear near her mouth.
"If anyone so much as looks at her..." She snarled. "You know what to do."
He cracked his neck and knuckles. "With pleasure."
Bellatrix laughed with delight and clapped her hands. Hermione shrugged and gave a half smile. "Stop giving me that look Bella. I can't help it. She looks...delectable. I don't want anyone else near her while we're in there!"
"Oh it's quite alright...though I should tell you, they do serve shots of pure amortentia in here."
"Bellatrix!"
"Thank me later."
"Ugh disgusting! Merlin! You're practically my mother!" Hermione said completely mortified. Bellatrix reached over and swatted the girl on the tip of her nose.
"Stop your whining. We're going to be having a potentially…complicated…day tomorrow, what's a little enjoyment for you and your love? Look at Fleur; she's positively beaming with excitement. Veela are like that. They love music, dancing, and of course...love. They thrive on sexual energy. All of that time spent in my sister's dreary mansion..." Bellatrix said with a crafty smile.
"She is leaving. Moving back in with Bill. Narcissa even pushed her to leave." Hermione deadpanned, catching the Dark Witch by surprise.
"Bill?"
"Bill Weasley. Her ex-husband...well soon to be."
"Fleur was married to a Weasel?" Bellatrix spoke acidly.
Hermione nodded. "But Bill is different. I think of him almost like a brother. I know he will keep Fleur safe until this is all over...Helen is there too."
Bellatrix stiffened at the sound of the woman's name. "Quiet." She wrapped her fingers around Hermione's wrist and weaved her way through the throngs of dancing revelers. Hermione however was growing agitated; fed up with Bellatrix' constant skirting of the issue of her mother.
"Bella I-"
A rapper had taken the stage as they moved across the dance floor. Accompanied by a booming bass line, he brought a wand to his throat and started to perform to the pulsating crowds.
Are you doin' all right, are you so sure?
Will mummy still love you, if you ain't pure?
As I'm rappin' here, up on top of this stage
Our time, it's runnin' out, we all in a cage.
Half bloods, mudbloods lockin' us up. Tossin' out the key.
Sayin' purity ain't worth it. Well 'Scuze the fuck outta me!
That muggle shit flowin' through ya mudblood veins,
I'll cut it out from ya, no cleanin' up the fuckin' stains.
Keep it far, far, far away from me.
Keep mud outta my eyes, I only want to see.
See that Voldemort stand up, rise up, stick it to the man.
Toss the fuckin' Ministry into the frying pan.
Burn it all, burn it down, nail 'em to the wall.
For puttin' us under, like a veela's thrall.
Makin' us weak with their muggle lovin' ways.
Fuck that. Purity! Make sure that it stays.
Are you doin' all right? Are you so sure?
Will mummy still love you, if you ain't pure?
They approached a door to a VIP lounge in the far end of the club, flanked by two of the largest men Hermione had ever seen.
"Let us through. NOW!" Bellatrix snapped with commanding volume, and the men pushed the double doors open, ushering the two women into a smoky antechamber. Bellatrix strode through the thick plumes of cigarette smoke toward a long table, around which several figures sat amidst a heated game of cards.
"Aces and eights my boys. Read it and weep. Now pay up." One of the men threw down his hand to a chorus of groaning and tossing of poker chips. Gathering the piles like a greedy banker, he laughed loudly, his cigar climbing up his face as his grin widened.
"Oy! An ace of spades! I've got one o' them right here! Bastard's bloody cheatin'!" Chairs fell to the floor with a clatter and wands were drawn instantly, all trained on the winner of the round, who had his hands held high in a gesture of surrender.
"Now, now let's not be too hasty! Just a friendly game right? Fellas?"
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" The bolt knocked the man's body clear against the wall of the cramped lounge, his spine audibly cracking on impact. He crumpled to the ground in a heap. The remaining players simply resumed the game as if nothing had happened, and they callously tossed the offending ace of spades onto the corpse. Bellatrix cleared her throat loudly, garnering the attention of the men.
"Mrs. Lestrange!" They made to stand up but Bellatrix halted them with a raised arm.
"I want this to be brief, as I find that my skin is crawling just from being in your presence. My protégée and I won't keep you from your precious game for too long, but you know why I am here." She commanded the attention of the room with utmost finesse. All of the thugs sitting around the long table sat in rapt attention, clinging to her every word.
One of the hooded thugs eyed Hermione, who was standing near the doorway, with suspicion. "Hey! Ain't that bitch one o' the trio? What's she doing 'ere anyways." The others murmured their agreement, clearly becoming agitated by the brunette's presence in the room. They made to draw their wands before Hermione smiled wickedly, casting a telekinetic expelliarmus, startling them all instantly.
"Silence fools!" Bellatrix snapped amid the raining wands. "Did I not speak of an integral part of the Dark Lord's plan? She is it. Look upon her again and you'll all be missing integral parts of your bodies, am I understood?"
"Uh, yes ma'am!"
"Now, tell me what it is I want to know and do so quickly, I feel disease coming on already."
The terse meeting proved not to be as informative as Bellatrix and Hermione had hoped. The local thugs charged with the task of aquiring the security layout of the grand jubilee had indeed completed it admirably; procuring a virtual blueprint of the proposed security arrangements on the grounds of Buckingham palace. It was the realization that the two witches were going to have to rely upon wits and improvisation alone to achieve their grand goals for the following morning. The only useful information provided was the fact that the ministry would have separate checkpoints entirely for the wizarding population and from which an antiapparition jinx would be put in place. Once they were in, they'd have to find their way out of the boundaries of the jinx. Easier said than done; Hermione cringed at the thought. Watching the meeting unfold it became apparent that she had officially passed the point of no return.
Do or die.
Now or never.
The mantras flooded her thoughts as she desperately clung to the idea that Fleur's freedom was but a day away. Pending her success, the damneble ministry would finally meet it's maker. Answer for it's crimes. Darkness would triumph and she would escape it before it consumed herself and Fleur whole.
Bellatrix retreated to the darkened upper loft bar of the club, bidding Hermione a good night with a smirk. As the Dark Witch turned to leave Hermione could not stifle the pang of sadness she felt toward the woman now making her way up the stairs. Bellatrix deserved better, she mused, as does Fleur. She would fight for both of them. Her family.
She returned to Fleur standing by the bar, her hips gyrating in a hypnotic fashion against the barstool, clutched in her hand was a large glass of wine. Hermione ordered them both a few shots of firewhisky, and poured a shot into her mouth and passed the intoxicating fluid to the Veela with a kiss. Fleur's lustful eyes met Hermione's and her tongue darted out to wet her lips, licking some stray drops of alcohol that beaded upon them. Closing the distance between them Hermione forcefully smashed her lips against Fleur's in a predatory kiss. In between each movement of their mouths Hermione tried desperately to speak. "Must...have you...now...I want you...so...so...badly."
They pulled apart. "Where do you want to go...lover." Fleur's thrall was choking her, as the Veela wet her lips with her tongue before diving in once more. They stumbled across the dancefloor, mouths latched together still. Hermione guided them toward a small lounge on the far side of the dance floor, away from the majority of the crowds. With a shove, The wine glass levitated and followed them a few feet behind, as Hermione willed the object to float before easing it down on a small table. Hermione sent the Veela sprawling across a plush couch before closing the lounge door and locking it.
Hermione threw herself ontop of Fleur and seized the collar of Fleur's dress with her teeth and tore it halfway down her torso in one swift move.
"'Ermione!" Fleur squealed at the sound of the fabric being torn apart.
"Shh!" Hermione admonished, quieting the blonde with another deep kiss. She sat upright on Fleur's stomach, her legs on either side, and lifted her shirt over her head and deftly removed her pants. Clad in a bra and underwear, Hermione seductively eased each strap down her shoulder before releasing the garment's clasp on her back. Breasts freed from the bra bounced forward, nipples instantly hardened as the brunette reached up to cup each mound, the entire display intoxicating the shaking blonde. Accio Wine! The teeming glass of wine danced over toward Hermione's hand; once she had it, she quickly poured the contents down between the valley of her breasts.
"Still wanting some of that wine?" Fleur could only nod. Hermione cupped a breast, leaned downward, and offered it against Fleur's waiting mouth. Fleur welcomed it with a firm yet gentle suck.
"Oh 'Ermione, 'zeese 'zings you do to me..." Her mouth was still latched onto a breast, her tonge tracing broad circles around the nipple. She sucked on both, drawing forth every remenant of wine from the delicate skin. At that same time, Fleur's hands started to further the large tear in her dress, exposing more of her creamy skin to Hermione.
Diffindo.
A low tempo electronica song wafting from the dance floor provided the soundtrack as Fleur's bra was slashed into two pieces, each falling to the floor and the brunette eased her down on to her back. Fleur's hips swayed beneath her with the song's rhythm.
Diffindo.
Kisses blazed a trail down the length of Fleur's body, and Hermione continued to tear open Fleur's dress, stopping to pay extra attention to her breasts. She continued lower and smiled wickedly at the Veela's lack of underwear. Fingers grasped Fleur's right knee, raising her sculpted leg skyward and her tongue traced the striations of the blonde's firm calf muscle. She nipped at the taut skin before easing both legs open.
"Make love to me 'Ermione..." A whimper amongst heavy breaths. "Please..."
The pleas brought forth a rush of wetness Hermione hadn't experienced in weeks. Sweat poured down her body as she traced the swollen opening now quivering in wait. Hermione plunged inside with her fingers, pumping in a rapid rhythm. Fleur rocked along, moving her hips in time with Hermione's frantic thrusts. The blonde's body grew tense, each muscle pulsating with the wave of pleasure that was now coursing through her. The pitch of her cries only grew higher as Fleur's hips bucked upward. Through gritted teeth a throaty moan forced its way out of Fleur, and Hermione could feel her own climax rapidly approaching at the sound. They kissed madly once more, sating the rapacious hunger that threatened to consume them both.
Hermione fell victim to Fleur's expert tongue and fingers, her body convulsing with each orgasm that came. Surely she believed she was going to suffer a heart attack when Fleur pressed her throbbing sex against Hermione's, rubbing the two organs together with the sultry gyrations of her hips and abdomen. With an unexpected levitation spell, Hermione deftly rotated Fleur around ontop of her, so now that Fleur's knees were by her ears, the blonde's saturated sex positioned directly above her waiting mouth. Fleur's head was now at the apex of Hermione's legs and the Veela purred. Wetting her lips, Hermione pressed her mouth to Fleur's heated core, tasting the sweet juices that continued to flow forth. Fleur responded in kind, her pointed tongue flicked against Hermione's clit, and electricity sparked with each ministration. Hermione rolled her hips upward into Fleur's face begging for release, and the frenchwoman latched her lips around the engorged organ and pulled on it with one firm suck. Together they reached a choreographed orgasm, the magical energies flowing between them causing the lights of the room to flicker wildly. Fleur rolled off of her lover's slick frame and repositioned herself, sitting up on her heels and smiled devilishly. A thin line of threadlike saliva dangled from her lower lip.
Fleur fidgeted and soon Hermione could feel a moistened fingertip at her opening, and she had no time to react when the digit forcefully entered, followed by another, and another. Fleur leaned forward, pressing herself against Hermione, their breasts smashed together. Pinned under Fleur's body, she writhed as she could feel her tight core being stretched more and more. Teeth clenched in a snarl, Hermione stomached the pain the pleasure decided to bring with it, and Fleur continued to push. The perfect storm of sex, alcohol and Fleur brought a tsunami of ecstacy and the brunette could do nothing to suppress the scream that exploded forth. When she came down from her high, she felt extremely lightheaded and absently gathered the panting Veela into her embrace, clinging to her supple body like a child with a teddybear. Bringing Fleur's lips to her own she could taste the mixture of herslef and Fleur together. It was more intoxicating than any bottle of scotch or firewhisky she had ever drank in the past.
Both women lay in silence, words inadequate to express the emotions coursing through them at the moment. A ghostly sensation enveloped them both generating a light heat; Fleur's thrall. Hermione closed her eyes for a few minutes, focusing on the slight breaths coming from her lover's lungs, cherishing the warmth of her body. Her thoughts gripped at her and she held Fleur tighter.
One more day.
After tomorrow, everything was going to change.
A/N: 100K words. Damn. All I gotta say.
A/N 2: Happy New Year!