"How did we get here?" Hermione whispers to herself later that night, curled against the other woman's form in bed, her fingers mindlessly wandering the scarred expanse of her exposed arm.
"Don't you remember?" She gets a sleepy response, Cissa's voice even richer when half-awake. "I tried to put you to bed and you ended up seducing me. You've a very bad habit of that, I must say."
"I seduced you?"
"Didn't you? All those years ago?" Narcissa asks.
"I most certainly did not! I have never in my life seduced you or anybody else."
"That you know of, Dear. Those eyes of yours however have their own magic. Now, am I to get no rest tonight?"
"I can't sleep. I'm busy thinking."
"I know, but I'm not, and I can sleep."
"Tell me a story… Tell me the story of how we met."
"Weren't you there?" The older woman laughs, "Should I take it personally that you can't recall how I came into your life?"
"I want to hear it from you. I want to hear your side of things. I know mine, and it's very boring."
"Your life is anything but boring. YOU, Dearest, are anything but boring, despite what you think in that muddled mind of yours." She shoots a pointed look at Hermione, somehow always aware of these moods that seemed to take over.
"Story please." Hermione demands, trying to change the subject.
"Very well, once upon a time, there was a woman and she was very lonely..."
.
Hermione closes her eyes and let's Cissa's words wash over her nude back like a warm blanket, a cool breeze. Truth be told, she loved her voice. She relished in the depth. So much like the woman who spoke it, no one ever suspected such complexity from a woman so slight, so beautiful.
.
"Am I the lonely woman?" Hermione asks, "Or are you? Because -"
"I am telling this story and if you interrupt me once more, Mione, I will stop. Honestly," she sighs, skimming her hand lightly across the prone woman's back, "You're as impatient as Hugo sometimes."
"I'm sorry, please continue." Hermione feigns contrition as she stretches then smiles softly.
"That's better. Once upon a time, there was a woman and she was very lonely..."
.
Narcissa decides to recount the first time she saw Hermione for the first time, really and truly saw her. Not as a teenager Diagon Alley, or an adversary in the halls of Hogwarts, not even as a captive during the horrors of her manor. But the first time she had seen her as a woman, an equal who had endured hell and more than survived, flourished specatularly.
It was in the midst of a crush of Muggles at the intermission of the Ballet.
While she was mulling over the fact that Muggles, much like Wizarding society, had no patience, she was struck with the thought that the woman with the auburn curls looked familiar. She found herself turning her head every so often, not quite tracking the other woman on her solitary journey to the powder room, but simply…noticing. The way women notice other women. It wasn't until she was safely ensconced in her seat in the boxes that she realized she was watching a member of the illustrious Golden trio make her way back to her seat. She cleaned up nicely it seemed, then again, what was that muggle saying of 'home advantage'? It was distracting, to say the least, for Narcissa to have her attention split between the stage, with its performance, and the woman below with her expressions of rapture. Needless to say, her date for the evening, a middle entry politician in the world of muggle politics was less than pleased.
.
"Wait," Hermione interrupted. "You never said you were on a date! You were, weren't you? With whom? Tell me! Tell me now!"
"You never asked." The older woman shrugged.
"You were captivated? You never mentioned that either."
"Yes well, I am nothing if not excellent at playing hard to get. Now, shall I continue?"
"You may."
"I found myself ... Wondering about you." Even in the dark, she sees the beaming smile on her lover's face. "Not in that way, not yet. But more why you were there alone, and how often you attended these types of events. It was the first time I thought about... Well, what you must have gone through as a muggle."
"But what about your work with the ministry - you were working on muggle relations, weren't you?"
"Not yet. I was still learning for learning's sake. I had never been out in the world unencumbered by others demands of me. It was so incredible, but curious, to be anonymous in this new world right alongside ours. All those years and there was never the actual connection about what that must actually be like, to be born of a different kind, to have to leave it behind, or merge the two worlds - if that was even possible?" Her voice drops slightly as her mind wanders to her lover's past, her own past.
"So you saw me and were fascinated by my exotic muggleness." The other woman teases, trying to draw Cissa out of the darkness and back to her.
"I'm sorry, did I say I was fascinated by you?" She feigns ignorance. "I was fascinated by work... But you?"
"My apologies. You were completely unmoved by me, taking no note of my existence until...?"
"Well why don't you tell me?" She laughs, turning onto her front to get comfortable, mirroring the other woman's pose. "When did you fall hopelessly in love with me?"
"I think a little part of me has always been in awe of you." Hermione confesses, crawling her fingers towards one of Cissa's hands. "You're an imposing figure Narcissa. You were..." She blushes, "You were so beautiful - I remember that much, even as a child, thinking you were incredible -"
"Can we not, please, talk about you as a child!" She squeezes her eyes shut, trying to will it away. "It's already so…"
"Weird?" Hermione asks, laughing.
"Well yes! More importantly, it makes me feel so… Old!"
"You're not old though, you're perfectly beautiful."
"Mmmmmm." She places a light kiss on Hermione's hand. "You may carry on with your story."
"If you're trying to impersonate me - you're doing it wrong - I'm not nearly as impossible, but fine! The first time I saw you, as you, not Draco's mum or anything other than you, was... The lifts."
"At the Ministry!"
"Yes! I had just received message to meet Gavin Underwood for something or other I stepped onto the lifts and you were there. I couldn't stop staring at you."
"I noticed."
"You did not."
"I did. You didn't say anything, just kept staring at me. And then I -"
"Said 'hello' and I damn near jumped out of my skin."
"The woman who defeated Voldemort, and she was terrified of me." Cissa's voice grows dark.
"Not like that-"
"Yes Hermione, like that. To be honest, I thought that's why you were staring at me. I know you had become friends with Draco, but I assumed I was another story."
"I got off the lifts." Hermione continues. Cissa isn't the only one who can read moods and memories, and she's eager to move her lover past this. "And you got off the lifts. And I kept wondering why you were following me and so I turned corners until you stopped. By which time I was late for my meeting with Underwood and so I rush in, red faced and confused and -"
"There I was."
"There you were." Hermione repeats, recalling that moment of embarrassment and excitement and curiosity.