The evening was mild and a pleasant summer breeze was blowing through the streets of London when Hermione emerged from the alley into which the portkey had transported her and which she now carelessly dropped into the nearest trash can.
Without much hesitation, she walked down the street, pulling her floor-length dress up a little so she wouldn't accidentally step on it as she quickened her pace. She was late.
Hermione should have known how perfectionist Draco could be when it came to looks, but she never expected him to accept her being late just because her look wasn't perfect in his eyes.
She rolled her eyes with a smile as she thought back to the chaos when she had entered her room freshly showered. Draco had obviously completely emptied her entire closet and was anything but happy with the result.
In the end he had taken one of her bright summer dresses and transfigured it with his wand until he was satisfied, while she stood as still as possible in the middle of her room, occasionally turning in place at his command. Luckily, hair and make-up hadn't taken him that much time and once again she was amazed at how much he had obviously learned from his mother.
At the thought of the blonde and the two other women who she would soon face again, and even more so, in whose arms she would soon slide across the dance floor, her heartbeat quickened and suddenly she, the nerd who always strives to be punctual, was grateful that she was late.
So far she hadn't had a second to think about the evening ahead and therefore had no chance of spiraling into another panic attack.
She broke into a short trot as she hastily crossed the street, which was busy even at this hour of the evening, and paused in front of the historic building that loomed imposingly before her. Tall columns and huge windows stretched across the two floors of the all-white building.
The soft light from the chandeliers that fell through the large windows onto the street bathed the entire Banqueting House in London's Westminster district in a golden light and gave it an almost sacred appearance. Through the closed windows you could hear muffled human voices and classical music, but the windows were too high up to make out anything other than the high ceilings and golden chandeliers.
In a strange way, this fact gave Hermione a feeling of calm and security. Whatever happened here today, they were shielded from the gaze of the world, especially the wizarding world, and she decided that she would enjoy this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to spend an evening in this special place.
Having made this decision, she now turned with a somewhat more confident step towards the left side of the only remaining part of Whitehall Palace, where the entrance was. A dark blue carpet had been rolled out along the short path between the sidewalk and the open front door, muffling her steps in the white high heels, which were no longer fast and rushed, but calmer and slower now that she had arrived at her destination.
She let go of the dress, which she had just held up slightly with her hands, and heard the hem slide across the carpeted floor, at the edge of which were lanterns with candles at regular intervals, lined up like soldiers who seemed to receive her.
But what caught Hermione's eye straight away were the two trees that stood on either side of the entrance and were covered in lights all over, making it appear as if they had brilliantly glowing golden leaves. Combined with the soft candlelight and the spotlights set on the floor on the sides of the building, illuminating the stone walls, Hermione felt like she was entering a golden fairytale forest, even more so when she saw what awaited her in the entrance hall.
Here, too, small trees had been placed discreetly on the side, which, like their larger counterparts at the entrance door, had a golden tree crown and bathed the entrance hall in a pleasant light.
She took a step to the left to make room for a couple, tightly entwined, who walked past her, laughing and probably taking a quick breath of air outside. She jumped briefly when she suddenly saw movement in front of her, only to laugh the next second when she recognized herself.
In her evasive maneuver, she had landed in front of a huge gold-framed mirror that reached from the floor to almost the ceiling. She had already seen herself in the mirror at home before she left, but the mirror in her closet couldn't keep up with the one in front of her, not to mention the golden glow that now surrounded her and reflected both her dress and her skin in the most beautiful bronze tones.
With a satisfied smile, she let her gaze slide from the elegant updo over the floor-length snow-white dress down to the equally white high heels. The white fabric hugged her body gently and accentuated her figure without being too tight and making her feel like she was revealing too much of her figure.
The high-necked dress was strapless and held together by delicate straps around her neck. She turned her back to the mirror and threw her head over her shoulder to examine her bare upper back, and was pleased to see that there was really no trace of the invisible bra that was held together at the nape of her neck like the dress.
She definitely hadn't wanted to go without a bra and she was eternally grateful that she didn't have to explain that to Draco at all. Hermione couldn't stand the idea that her nipples would otherwise have been clearly visible under her dress and would therefore have been exposed not only to the gaze of the other guests, but especially to the gaze of the three women with whom she had a date tonight.
Mentally she thanked Draco again for not only making sure that she was presentable tonight, but above all for always lovingly reassuring that she felt comfortable.
She turned forward again, the dress swirling around her, revealing for a brief moment the long slit that reached her thigh, then disappearing again the moment she stood head-on in front of the mirror and the dress came to rest. She exhaled deeply as she tried to feel the same calmness within her as she nervously adjusted the two delicate bracelets that closed around her wrists.
With what she hoped was one last reassuring look in the mirror, she turned away and entered the almost empty entrance hall, whose vaulted ceilings stretched in gentle pointed arches across the entire hall.
Her heels echoed uncomfortably loudly on the dark marble floor and she felt the nervous fluttering in her stomach increase as she caught the piercing gaze of the two black-clad women leaning against a counter on the side of the hall and who had been lost in conversation.
"Hermione." The soft voice of the headmistress, whose green eyes had lit up with joy at the sight of her, surrounded her like a protective blanket and she felt the nervousness inside her instantly subside a little.
Following the unspoken invitation she read in Minerva's eyes and the arms that opened for her, she instinctively slipped her arms around the Scottish woman's narrow and surprisingly firm waist and let herself be pulled into the chest of the tall woman, who towered over her by a head, even with Hermione in high heels.
Hermione closed her eyes in pleasure as slender arms wrapped around her, enveloping her like a cocoon. The familiar smell of parchment, ginger biscuits and something that was entirely Minerva McGonagall enveloped her. Once again she was amazed at how quickly this woman always managed to calm her down.
But as soon as she finished that thought and breathed out in relief, the butterflies in her stomach stirred again as she felt soft fingertips gently caressing her bare back, and she couldn't suppress the shudder running through her body that came from this delicate touch of skin on skin.
Hermione cursed the black-haired woman's highly sensitive animagus abilities as Minerva, who had obviously sensed the younger woman's shudder immediately, pulled her even tighter. The little distance that had just existed between them dissolved and Hermione was now all too aware of the soft breasts, flat stomach and female pelvis that were pressed against her.
An irrepressible heat suddenly erupted throughout her entire body and reached its highest boiling point in her abdomen as the older woman stroked her back with both hands and a little more pressure. The gesture, with which Minerva had probably intended to calm the woman in her arms, triggered the complete opposite in her and she had to pull herself together not to sigh lustfully as the hands roamed over her skin.
"Are you cold, dear?" Minerva asked worriedly.
Given the heat that seemed to be burning Hermione from the inside, the question was so incredibly absurd that she couldn't help but laugh out loud. The delicate hands that had just caressed her stopped mid-movement, gently grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her back a little. Hermione looked up at the headmistress. Minerva's green eyes bored questioningly into Hermione's chocolate brown ones.
"No," Hermione giggled, her arms still wrapped around the tall woman's waist. When Minerva still looked at her seriously and questioningly, Hermione pulled herself together and returned the look with equal seriousness, although she still smiled.
Her heart skipped a beat as she decided to be brave and let the heat she felt deep within her body into her gaze, even as the intense gaze from green eyes made her increasingly nervous.
However, it took even more courage for her to let her left hand travel over the older woman's side and come to rest on her ribcage, just under Minerva's breast. She could feel Minerva sucking in a sharp breath under her hand as Hermione gently but firmly brushed her thumb over that spot, coming dangerously close to her breast.
Being able to provoke this reaction in the otherwise controlled woman gave Hermione's self-confidence such a sudden boost that she whispered in a seductive voice that she didn't recognize at all: "No, Minerva, I'm anything but cold ... "
Hermione grinned triumphantly as Minerva opened her eyes in surprise and a light blush spread across her high cheekbones before a smile spread across her thin lips and her green eyes sparkled with amusement.
Even without saying anything, Hermione knew that the intelligent woman had interpreted her look, her touch, the tone of her voice and, above all, the fact that she had called her by her first name for the first time, exactly as Hermione had intended: she was ready. For tonight, for the next three weeks and everything they would entail.
Hermione didn't know where this inner conviction suddenly came from, especially when she thought of how panicked she had been at the idea of having multiple dates with the headmistress of Hogwarts and the two Black sisters several hours ago. She certainly wasn't at peace at that moment and certainly wouldn't be in the next three weeks, but at least she could now accept the idea of simply embarking on this experiment and she was grateful for that.
"Well then," Minerva brought her back from her thoughts, still smiling down at her, to Hermione's chagrin she let go of her and took a step back to take a look at her: "You look enchanting, dear."
Hermione felt herself blushing again, but beamed at the compliment and ran her own eyes over the headmistress's long black dress: "I can only return the compliment, Minerva. You're beautiful."
And she really was. Her long black hair was styled in a simple updo that hugged her narrow face, making her features appear even softer than they had been in the café this afternoon, and accentuating her long swan neck, on the side of which hung two green emerald earrings that sparkled in competition with her eyes.
Despite the simplicity of the dress, it showed so much more of her body than Minerva McGonagall usually revealed. It clung to her slim body like a second skin, from the square neckline, which only showed her collarbones, to the long sleeves and down to her long legs, one of which peeked out of a discreet slit in the dress that reached above the older woman's knee, and which Hermione would definitely see more of over the course of the evening once the woman moved. She bit her bottom lip at the thought.
A snort of amusement to her left made her head snap around and she looked into the knowing blue eyes of Narcissa Black, who, without hesitation, pulled Hermione into her arms and planted a kiss on her cheek.
The floral and fruity scent of her perfume, which Hermione had already smelled this afternoon, now enveloped her much more intensely. She had to suppress the impulse to claw at the woman's obviously bare back as Narcissa let her lips brush over the shell of her ear and whispered with hot breath, "You look stunning, darling."
"Thank you, Narcissa," she said huskily. She could almost feel the older woman's smile next to her, apparently triggered by the sound of her name coming from Hermione's mouth. Narcissa hummed contentedly and, as if in reward, placed a gentle kiss on Hermione's neck, right where her pulse was suddenly pounding.
Now she really had to claw her hands into the woman's firm back, which only seemed to animate Narcissa even more, because she also let her tongue slide over Hermione's carotid artery and the younger woman gasped in shock.
She involuntarily flinched, which Narcissa only acknowledged with a devilish grin of blood-red painted lips that was a spitting image of her eldest sister's and suddenly Hermione recognized the family resemblance of the Black sisters.
As if Hermione had spoken her thoughts out loud, Narcissa smiled meaningfully and let her suddenly hungry-looking eyes wander over Hermione's body. Involuntarily, Hermione followed her gaze down her own dress and tried to ease the tension in the air by saying, "Draco has phenomenal taste."
Pride flashed in the blue eyes, which slowly moved back up and found Hermione's: "Yes, he does."
As with Minerva before, she gathered her courage towards Narcissa and flirted: "I wonder, who did he get it from?"
Blue eyes sparkled provocatively as Narcissa placed a hand on her hip, raised her head and posed in front of Hermione as she gestured towards her dress in an inviting gesture, "You tell me."
Hermione breath caught in her throat. What had looked up close like a simple sleeveless black dress that was skin-tight but closed all the way up to the neck and thus exposed only a little skin, turned out to be a glittering temptation from a little distance.
The dress had a slit, like her own and Minerva's, but Narcissa's had a slit running down the front and up so far that it probably only barely passed as appropriate for a ball, and Hermione wondered if she would catch a glimpse of her underwear if Narcissa moved even a step.
But what actually gave Hermione trouble breathing wasn't the sinful amount of bare leg that Narcissa was showing off in her dress, but rather the upper part of the dress.
A floral pattern ran from Narcissa's neck across her right breast, while another covered her left breast and reached the side of her pubic bone. Countless silver stones glittered on the black material like stars in the dark night sky. The rest of her upper body, especially her stomach, her right side and the area between her breasts was covered by material, but it was completely transparent.
Narcissa's narrow waist, her toned stomach that rose and fell with each of her enviably calm breaths, and her belly button were completely exposed to Hermione's hungry gaze, and the younger witch struggled to control her physical reactions to the sight.
She felt her abdomen constrict heavenly as she imagined thrusting her tongue into Narcissa's belly button, then tracing her abs with her tongue, and finally placing a heated kiss between the older woman's breasts, who at that point hopefully would no longer breathe as calmly as now, but would tremble and shiver under Hermione's touch.
A clearing of a throat made her look up and she realized with shock that she had been staring at Narcissa's upper body, completely lost in thought, for far too long. Only then did she become aware of her tongue, which had slipped out of her oral cavity during her anything but innocent train of thought and slowly slid over her upper lip.
She quickly pulled her tongue back into her mouth, but it was already too late. The lust that blazed in Narcissa's suddenly much darker blue eyes made it clear to her that the blonde had by no means missed the effect she was having on Hermione. Completely unnecessarily and probably just to torment Hermione even further, she added: "That is answer enough for me."
Hermione swallowed hard as she tried to meet Narcissa's intense gaze. The fact that she had tied her blonde hair into a tight bun that rivaled the one Minerva usually wore at Hogwarts didn't help either, even though she had a black rose tucked into hers.
The almost dangerous-looking look was perfectly complemented by shiny silver high heels and equally shiny silver earrings in the shape of snakes, which seemed to slide down onto the shoulders of the black-clad Queen of Slytherin House.
But before Hermione could give in to the fantasy of Narcissa as queen, before whom she wanted to kneel and serve without will, she cleared her throat, looked back and forth between Minerva and Narcissa and asked: "Where is Bellatrix, is she late again?"
She breathed a sigh of relief when Narcissa let her off the hook and actually answered her question as she pointed towards a door on the opposite side of the entrance hall and replied, "She's in the toilet. Something with her outfit."
She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "And people say I am the vainest of the Black sisters."
Hermione laughed, but the laughter caught in her throat as the door to the ladies' toilets opened at that moment and a young red-haired woman hurried out, whose skin tone clearly rivaled the color of her hair, her cheeks were so red. Bellatrix walked right behind her.
There was something about the way the redhead looked nervously back at Bellatrix that Hermione didn't like at all, and she liked even less the grin Bellatrix gave the unknown woman, as if she'd already had dessert before dinner.
What the hell had happened between the two of them in the ladies' room? Did Bellatrix know the woman? How long had they been in there anyway? When a little voice in the back of her mind suggested asking Narcissa about it, she realized what a stupid turn her thoughts had just taken.
Seriously, Granger? You want to ask her sister how long she was in the ladies' room? And on what grounds? "Oh, Narcissa, you know, in order to decide which of you is right one for me, I would like to know how much time you spend on average in the bathroom." Yes, totally believable. Why don't you just ask Bellatrix herself what she was doing with the redhead in the ladies' room? What kind of tart was that woman anyway, making out with a complete stranger in a toilet?
Hermione eyed the redhead's skin-tight white dress disapprovingly, which was far too short and far too low-cut for her taste. Was that Bellatrix's type of woman? Cheap and easy to get? She continued to follow the red-haired woman with her eyes as she turned left and slid through one of the large doors that probably led to the ballroom, while Bellatrix continued to head towards them.
Hermione's eyes widened as she now had a full view of the eldest Black sister, and suddenly she couldn't blame the redhead too much for becoming weak at the sight of the black-haired beauty.
Like Minerva and Narcissa, Bellatrix was dressed all in black, but unlike the other two women, Bellatrix wore a suit. Well, at least parts of it. Black high heels, black suit pants, black vest. Otherwise. Nothing. No blouse, no suit jacket to cover her strikingly muscular arms. Jesus, was the woman even wearing a bra?!
Hermione really couldn't tell with the plunging neckline of the vest, which was so tight that she seriously wondered if it could hold up to Bellatrix's full breasts all evening long.
Hermione's fingers twitched at the idea of undoing the three buttons that held Bellatrix's vest together in sequence from top to bottom, freeing her breasts from their confining prison. The vest didn't even reach the waistband of her pants and left a clear view of her belly button and the beginnings of her very pronounced abdominal muscles. Shit, did she even have a V-cut? Fuck.
Hermione's body didn't seem to know whether to get hot or cold. Well, that's it, I give up. Where can I register for my funeral? Because this woman will definitely be the death of me.
With every step Bellatrix took towards her, Hermione's heart seemed to race even faster. What was it with the Black sisters and the way they walked like they owned the whole world? Is that something you learned growing up in a pureblood household?
Her dark curls, which, as always, fell loosely over her muscular shoulders, bounced with every step she took, a self-confident smile on her dark red painted lips, which now opened as she stopped in front of Hermione: "There is the woman of the hour. Mmmh, little witch…"
With her hands casually buried in her trouser pockets, she let her eyes slide appreciatively over Hermione, who suddenly felt naked under the older woman's lustful black eyes. Completely unexpectedly, Bellatrix grabbed her hand and led her in a slow pirouette to examine her from all sides until Hermione was facing her again, suddenly much closer than before. "…you look good enough to eat."
Hermione felt the heat in her cheeks as she said, "Thank you, Bellatrix. And you...you look..."
She struggled for words as her eyes settled on the single piece of jewelry nestled around Bellatrix's neck: a sparkling silver snake with green eyes coiled around her neck, while its tail seemed to snake toward her cleavage as if it had crawled out of it.
A thousand adjectives flashed through Hermione's mind that could have described Bellatrix's appearance, but she didn't dare say any of them out loud, especially not in the presence of the other two women: Hot, sexy, jaw-dropping, worthy of worship, irresistible,...
Before she could decide on a word, Bellatrix suggested, "...so good-looking that it left you speechless?"
The older woman's arrogant grin provoked her to slowly shake her head: "No."
She enjoyed the brief flash of uncertainty in the black eyes in front of her, before Bellatrix caught herself just as quickly and narrowed her eyes searchingly.
"You look so good," she took a step closer to Bellatrix, "that all the words I can think of to describe it," she briefly flicked her eyes meaningfully to Bellatrix's dark red lips before looking directly into her eyes again, "would be inappropriate."
Bellatrix's mouth opened in surprise, but no sound came out of her mouth.
"Bellatrix Black speechless – I'm glad I can still experience this in my lifetime."
Hermione turned to Narcissa and returned her wide grin.
Bellatrix seemed to have regained her composure and countered: "Very funny, Cissy. I was just…surprised. The little witch suddenly has a lot more courage than she did have this afternoon."
"Of course she has, after all she's in my house for a reason", Minerva spoke up. Hermione thought she could hear pride, but also a certain tension in the headmistress's voice, who stepped next to Hermione and offered her her arm, which Hermione hooked onto with a smile. "Shall we then or do you want to stand here in the entrance hall all night long?"
Bellatrix's lips curled in annoyance at Minerva's possessive gesture, but obviously refrained from commenting when Narcissa linked arms with her and gave her a meaningful look.
"Well then, lead the way, headmistress," she said mockingly. Hermione began to fear that the tension that had already existed between the two temperamental women in the café that afternoon would also find a way to escape tonight and she could only hope that the night would not end in a duel to the death. At that moment she couldn't tell which of the two powerful witches would win such a fight.
Notes:
As always, I look forward to your comments.
What do you think? Is it believable that Hermione got over her panic (at least partially) so quickly and already dares to flirt with women?
If there actually were a duel between Minerva and Bellatrix, who do you think would win?
Inspiration for the Ball at the Banqueting House: .uk/news/articles/an-evening-of-champagne-and-shadows-at-the-banqueting-house-2019-11-26
Hermione's dress: r/EmmaWatson/comments/i28y10/white_dress/?rdt=58376
Minerva's dress: de/etui-quadrat-sweep-pinsel-zug-jersey-abendkleid-017254995-g254995?currency=EUR&utm_term=254995&utm_size=38&country=DE¤cy=EUR&ggntk=x&ggkey=&ggtgt=17&ggplm =&country=DE&gclid=CjwKCAjw1t2pBhAFEiwA_-A-NF0LvcgqcQ8EssudM3qrlyaFtbAGB205KfrXuxPdlBepHtI609hVGhoCv44QAvD_BwE
Narcissa's dress: .ar/en/collections/stage/products/copy-of-sh1000
Inspiration for Bella's vest: .de/inhzoy-Anzugweste-Waistcoat-V-Ausschnitt-Barkeeper/dp/B0BZNK4D3Z?th=1
and
.eu/de-de/marciano ?webcountry=de&CMP=KNC-GES-Feed_DE-Google_DE&lgw_code=37425-14817249&gclid=CjwKCAjw -eKpBhAbEiwAqFL0mqTaRnw7iMcM6tu2wQKNVhIXSmQGMe-vqYzSWwkcZq3eYo-_ztM5lRoCSboQAvD_BwE&gclsrc=
Bella's neckless: . ?subj=googleshopping-landingpage&_bg_fs=1&_p_rfs=1&_x_ads_channel=google&_x_ads_sub_channel=shopping&_x_login_type=Google&_x_vst_scene=adg&mkt_rec=1&goods_id=601099517859 074&sku_id=17592221616604&_x_ns_sku_id=17592221616604&_x_gmc_account=742384665&_x_ads_account=4836564225&_x_ads_set =20242138779&_x_ads_id=147767380217&_x_ads_creative_id=660986581345&_x_ns_source=g&_x_ns_gclid=CjwKCAjw7oeqBhBwEiwALyHLM34AZ2e36R2KJi4yRBrgDgxfF svqVQrx861cv7M88LXsH7N_nWR8GhoCz80QAvD_BwE&_x_ns_placement=&_x_ns_match_type=&_x_ns_ad_position=&_x_ns_product_id=17592221616604&_x_ns_target=&_x_ns_devicemodel=&_x_ns _wbraid=CjgKCAjwy4KqBhAFEigAhO6JOrWxqPT8csMY4ld3DoAXwAKEL6TPYlLPL14yPnKbiHrlRdV-GgL65Q&_x_ns_gbraid=0AAAAAo4mICG3MuRqqW26W83nfOe5xYCt6&_x_ns_targetid=pla-20 89629590875&gclid=CjwKCAjw7oeqBhBwEiwALyHLM34AZ2e36R2KJi4yRBrgDgxfFsvqVQrx861cv7M88LXsH7N_nWR8GhoCz80QAvD_BwE&adg_ctx=f-401c9bc7