Hermione found herself reluctantly Apparating to The Leaky Cauldron on Saturday evening.
"Come on, Hermione, it'll be fun," Ginny's floating head pleaded in the fireplace earlier that day.
"I don't know…Will Ron be there?"
"No Ron, I promise. Just us and Harry. I know it's been tough for you."
Hermione perked a little at the opportunity of seeing Harry. He was like a brother to her and she missed him.
But it was very reminiscent of old times; Hermione and Ron weren't talking and Harry chose Ron.
She knew he didn't do it spitefully- Harry just had more hobbies and interests in common with Ron.
Though she recognized that she hadn't exactly reached out either. She'd been…rather busy…
Hermione arrived first and Ginny got there soon after with Harry, who gave Hermione an awkward hug.
"Feels like it's been ages, hasn't it?"
"It does. I hope you can understand Harry, I'm just not- not ready yet to see him and be okay about it."
"It's fine, of course it is. Take all the time you need and don't feel like you need to stay away. We can hang out just us, until you and Ron have found better footing."
She knew Harry meant well and part of Hermione warmed to know Harry didn't judge her or think less of her.
Until you and Ron have found better footing.
But what if she and Ron never did?
Would Harry drift away from her, like Ron had?
And Ginny, who was Harry's partner and Ron's sister; would Ginny see her less, by proxy?
Hermione missed her old life, missed visiting the Weasleys, missed it when it was her, Harry and Ron against the forces of evil.
Some days, Hermione wished that she and Ron had never dated.
Then she could go back to how things were before. She didn't need to feel like crying every time she saw Ron with another woman. She didn't need to have that aching feeling inside her, wondering if she'd done the wrong thing by breaking up with him.
She hated that she'd fallen in love with someone that, fundamentally, she didn't actually get along with that well.
And to make matters worse, it seemed like all her friends were tied to Ron somehow and, unfortunately for Hermione, Ron was much more likeable. It was easy to fall for his good humour and natural charisma. Hermione was impatient and uptight and, though she'd learned to embrace it, a definitive Know-It-All.
Ron hovered over every social gathering like a dark cloud that Hermione just couldn't shake off. All of their friends were in an in-between place where they didn't want to take sides and, while Ron would always have Harry, his best mate by his side, Hermione didn't have an equivalent.
Would she ever have someone that was unquestionably hers?
That would fight in her corner every time? Choose her over anyone else?
Harry and Ron had been her whole world for the past eight years and now, she couldn't help feeling so very alone.
"You know, Dean's been asking about you."
Hermione snapped out of her self-pity party.
"What? He has? What did he say?"
Ginny smirked.
"Only that you were a riveting dance partner and he'd be interested in getting to know you more."
Hermione picked up her mug and took a long draught of mead.
"That could be fun," Harry perked up, "I mean, Dean's a nice bloke and it's not like Ron hasn't-"
Ginny elbowed Harry in the ribs and he protested.
"Ginny, what was that f- oh…err, right, sorry,"
"It's fine, it's not like it's a secret that Ron's been helping himself to anything with a pulse," Hermione said tightly, taking another long swig.
Harry looked at his hands awkwardly.
Ginny gave Hermione a sympathetic pat on the arm.
"Is he seeing Padma?" Hermione suddenly asked.
Ginny winced.
"They've planned a date, yeah. I dunno how well it'll go. I don't really see him with her, but who knows? I think more likely she's just a rebound. He was…pretty torn up after and I think the sleeping around stuff is just his way of coping and getting his confidence back."
Hermione sighed.
"It might, erm…Do you some good too, yeah? I'm not saying go out and marry anyone, but maybe see what's out there?"
Hermione traced the rim of her mug.
See what's out there?
She hadn't told anyone that she already sort of had.
Pansy was like her dirty little secret.
She didn't entirely understand what was happening between them.
But it was true that when she was with Pansy, she wasn't thinking about Ron.
Suddenly, Hermione felt extremely depressed.
She listened to Ginny and Harry change the subject to their jobs, the renovations they planned for Grimmauld, and Quidditch. Hermione drank pint after pint, not really keeping count nor really paying attention to the conversation.
Eventually the other two stood up and Hermione took it to mean it was time to go.
She stumbled out of the bar, finding it hard to walk in a straight line.
"Woah there, do you need a lift home? We can Apparate you, or you can stay at ours tonight,"
"Th-thanks Harry. 'Fully kind. I think I needa bit of a walk, though. Freschsh air. Good walk," Hermione slurred, tottering down the sidewalk.
"Are you sure, Hermione? You had quite a bit to drink…"
"S'fine. Knight bus takesh two secondsh. And I could use the walk. 'Night 'night."
"Fine, but Floo me when you're home, okay?" Ginny said uncertainly, giving Hermione a tight hug.
Hermione staggered along, not really paying attention to where her feet were taking her.
When she headed down a particularly quiet street, she let herself have a good cry. Loud wracking sobs that felt amazing to get out of her system.
She cried because she felt lonely but also bits of rage. She was annoyed at being this distraught over Ron and frustrated that so much of her identity had come from her friendship with him and Harry.
Who was she, without the two of them?
What did she have left in terms of deep, human connections?
Her parents, who were still recovering mentally from their hideout in Australia, but that was it, really.
It felt like breaking up with Ron had torn away a chunk of her life and now she was scrambling to mend it, before the boat sank.
She finally stopped loudly crying when she saw a few passersby on the other side of the street eyeing her and pulling their cloaks tighter around them as they scurried off.
Who could blame them? She probably sounded like a lost banshee.
It somehow didn't surprise her when her legs finally stopped walking, parking her outside a familiar nightclub.
She was hardly dressed for it, but the bouncer let her in.
She walked in and let the music wash over her. She closed her eyes, letting people bump into her as they danced.
Her eyes were probably blotchy. She was drunk enough that her movements were sloppy and her hair was dishevelled from the times she'd run her fingers through it in distress.
But here, no one cared.
She could be sad and lonely and broken up here and just live her emotions fully.
It was entirely selfish and illogical and reckless, but it felt cathartic.
"Heathens! Sinners! Load of bloody bollockses!"
Hermione laughed, recognizing the familiar vulgarities of the purple hat.
Still smiling, she opened her eyes and the reason she'd come here tonight was suddenly crystal clear.
Pansy was sitting at the back, accompanied by who Hermione vaguely recognized as Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott.
She looked regal. And beautiful. The most beautiful person in the room, in a strapless, black dress.
Hermione felt like she was being pulled by a magnetic current.
The room was so packed and noisy that it took Hermione almost falling into Pansy's lap for Pansy to finally spot her.
Hermione almost guffawed at the look of pure shock on Pansy's face.
Hermione placed both hands firmly on Pansy's knees and leaned in, until their noses almost touched.
Pansy's lips were parted deliciously.
Her expression was of pure surprise, almost innocently so.
"Take me back to your place and ride my face," Hermione murmured in Pansy's mouth.
Pansy's eyes widened like two Galleons and Hermione laughed louder than she had in a long, long time.
/
Hermione didn't notice the look of utter astonishment on both Nott and Zabini's faces.
She didn't think about how she probably looked like a mess, especially considering that she'd just walked up to the poshest-looking crowd in the whole club.
All she could see was Pansy's face. There was something there, something Hermione had never seen before.
Before Hermione could think more on it, Pansy's claws dug into her wrist and swept her away, through the dancers and out the front door.
The Apparition went much better this time.
In fact, they appeared right in Pansy's bed.
Hermione lost her balance on the squishy mattress and toppled onto her back with a yelp.
Pansy fell on top, her legs straddling Hermione's waist.
"You've become rather bold, for a plaything," Pansy hissed and then her lips were on Hermione's.
The pair of them tousled about, grabbing at each other, yanking on zippers and tugging at buttons.
Hermione was breathing hard.
Pansy's kisses were fire and burned her everywhere.
Her lips, her neck, her collar bone.
Her blouse was open and Pansy scraped a bra cup back to lap at Hermione's taut nipple.
Hermione threw her head back and gasped.
As Pansy grazed her teeth over Hermione's skin, she began to work at the buttons on Hermione's trousers.
Hermione felt a hand between her legs massaging a spot that felt far too right.
A pressure started building within her core, begging, begging, begging-
"Wait!" Hermione suddenly cried out.
Pansy lifted her head up. Her lips were red and wet and it gave Hermione shivers.
"Have we had sex before?" Hermione blurted out.
There was an awkward pause.
"Excuse me?" Pansy finally asked, her eyes narrowing.
"Last time I was here, I- That is, what I mean to say is- I can't quite recall certain-certain details."
Hermione felt her neck heat up in embarassment.
Oh sods, this was not how she had wanted to broach the topic. She felt suddenly far too sober.
But she'd had to know before anything else happened.
Pansy smirked.
"Oh, this is precious. You've forgotten the entire night, haven't you?"
"Not all of it!" Hermione protested, feeling stupider by the second, "Just bits near the end. After we went upstairs things are a bit- foggy."
"Foggy, indeed," Pansy snorted, "Well, buck up. I'll have you know, you were a veritable sex kitten. Begging to be spanked and whipped and put on a leash and you followed me everywhere on all fours and you as good as sold your cunt to me for the next thirty years."
Hermione covered her face with her hands.
No. No, it couldn't possibly be true.
And yet she had drank a lot, on top of the Fudlops. Probably the most she'd ever done in her life, in one go.
Oh dear.
"I'm completely mortified," Hermione groaned through her palms.
Pansy cackled.
"I'm kidding, Granger. As if you would be adventurous enough to suggest a whip. Though what actually happened was considerably less glamorous."
"I fell asleep?"
"You tripped over that rug, you downed half a bottle of Sauvignon and then puked it up in the dresser. You proceeded to rant, in minute detail, about how there weren't nearly enough regulations on Sneezewort importations, listed all the names of Elemental Runes you could think of, puked again in a different dresser and then you fell asleep."
"Oh. No."
"Oh, yes."
"I think I prefer the sex kitten version."
Pansy snorted and rolled off of Hermione, propping herself up on her elbow.
"I don't quite understand why you let me come back here," Hermione lamented, turning on her side, her back to Pansy.
"It was all very entertaining, I can assure you."
"Maybe I should go. Are you planning to blackmail me, by any chance?"
Pansy rolled her eyes.
"You can relax, Granger. I save blackmail for those who've wronged me in deep personal ways or who've killed little bunnies. Not for petty things like annoying, prissy ex-classmates."
"Well, if I'm so annoying, I'll leave then," Hermione answered curtly.
Pansy sighed, stopping Hermione with a hand on her shoulder.
"Don't be like that."
"You can't keep insulting me."
"Oh, please, darling, I've stopped insulting you ages ago. I only tease you, now."
Hermione sighed.
"I really am sorry for puking in your dresser."
"Twice. And like I said, it's fine. It's not everyone who gets to see the Golden Girl in scandalous disarray. I take it as a rare treat, like spotting a Bernese Mountain Krup near Lucerne."
Hermione sat up, shoulders sagging.
"I've ruined your night haven't I? If it wasn't for me you'd still be out with your friends."
"I'm always out with my friends, it's been getting a little drab to be honest. Trust me, it was worth it to see how flabbergasted Theo and Blaise were, when you waltzed right up to us like old bosom buddies. Made for a nice change. Oh, Theo will positively hate it."
Hermione swivelled to watch Pansy snickering.
"Hate what? I'm allowed to talk to whoever I want!"
"Oh, of course you are. But you're bright-eyed and bushy-tailed Hermione Granger and we're the hooligans who sit in the VIP lounge in the dark, shadowy corners. Theo's going to want to know why you strutted up to me and jammed your face into mine, like you had a plan. And he will be absolutely furious when I refuse to tell him."
"You haven't told anyone about…about our encounters?"
"No. Have you?"
"No."
There was silence as the two young women stared at each other.
"You could probably be with someone else right now, if I hadn't barged in on your night."
"Getting off, you mean?"
Hermione blushed and looked down.
Pansy shrugged.
"Like I said, the usual routine's been getting rather drab."
Hermione tried not to imagine just exactly how often Pansy probably sampled other goodies.
"Why did you dare me to kiss you? On that first night?"
Pansy narrowed her eyes like a cat who'd honed in on a plump little mouse.
"Because it seemed impossible, so naturally I wanted to try it."
"What d'you mean, impossible?"
Pansy rolled her eyes.
"Because, Granger, I've spent my life surrounded by people like me or people who want to be me. It's easy to get their attention. You just have to know the type. But you-"
She reached up and dragged her black nails down Hermione's cheek. Hermione shivered but didn't move.
"-You're the opposite. You're a knight in shining armour and I'm a snake that slithers in the dark. But one can only fraternise with one's kind for so long before they begin to wonder what it would be like to taste something fresh."
"So I'm…an experiment?"
"I suppose so. Though I prefer 'plaything', personally."
"Did you think I would kiss you? That first night in the alley?"
Pansy paused.
She observed Hermione for a long time.
"No," Pansy finally conceded and Hermione felt the honesty. "No, I actually thought I'd get you good and riled up, you'd stomp off and I'd have a laugh at your expense with the boys after. No, I didn't expect you to kiss me. Makes me wonder…what other unexpected things you have in store for me. I believe you did rather brazenly bring up face-sitting?"
Pansy's mouth twisted in a most satisfied smirk.
Hermione swallowed hard as her whole face heated up like a furnace.
"I did say that," Hermione answered meekly, wondering what on earth had come over her.
"So, why did you kiss me, then?" Pansy asked, her voice soft.
"I…"
Hermione didn't know what to say. Not often she was speechless before a direct question.
"I suppose I…I'm not as opposite to you as you think. It turns out I also enjoy an impossible challenge."
Pansy's eyelashes batted quickly in surprise.
Hermione took advantage of Pansy's brief moment of being taken aback. She leaned in and pressed pink lips to red ones.
She sighed. Pansy's tongue softly prodded her and she welcomed it, sucking on it slowly.
Pansy's groan satisfied something deep in Hermione's abdomen.
Feeling bolder, Hermione cupped Pansy's small breasts. She was rewarded with a sharp gasp.
"Take your top off," Pansy ordered.
Hermione obliged, pulling off her halfway unbuttoned blouse and tossing it to the ground.
There was something in the air. It was tense. A similar sensation like right before jumping off a diving board.
Hermione tingled with anticipation but she was also nervous.
"Now the trousers."
"What about you?"
"You'll get what you want if you do what I want, first."
Ever the fierce negotiator, Pansy was.
Hermione stood and pulled her trousers down.
She stood there, in her plain white knickers and beige bra and suddenly felt very exposed and vulnerable and- worst of all- plain.
Pansy studied her and Hermiome fidgeted.
"Have you ever been with another woman before?"
"No." Hermione answered defiantly, jutting her chin up. She didn't want Pansy to know how nervous she was feeling, but she was not going to lie either.
Pansy bit her lip.
"Oh, Granger," she breathed. Hermione couldn't tell if it was good or bad.
"Come here."
Hermione took a step forward.
Pansy stood, put her arms around Hermione's back and unclasped her bra.
It fell to the ground.
The cool air pebbled goosebumps along the curves of Hermione's breasts.
"All mine, tonight" Pansy purred, and trailed her nails around the areola.
Hermione shivered.
"Ah!" Hermione suddenly cried out as Pansy pinched.
And then her left nipple was hot and wet as Pansy licked the sting away, stroking the flat of her tongue along it generously.
Hermione arched and grasped Pansy's shoulders for support as her knees wobbled.
Pansy sucked the other nipple, grazing her teeth along the skin.
Hermione clenched her thighs together. She was getting good and riled up.
She wasn't begging for anything yet, but if Pansy kept this up for much longer, Hermione could see herself stooping to those lengths.
Something slid along Hermione's nether lips. Hermione moaned as she felt just the tips of fingers grazing her privates.
She really didn't want to beg.
It had barely been five minutes.
But Pansy knew what she was doing. She teased and teased and Hermione started to squirm, her hips bucking gently.
"Wait here, don't turn around" Pansy murmured wickedly and Hermione almost whined.
"What are you doing?"
Pansy didn't answer. She left Hermione's sight, rummaging around in her closet. She returned shortly and Hermione smelt smoke.
A long, lit cigarette, about 12 inches, was put in front of Hermione's lips.
"Take a drag."
"What is this? Where'd you even get it?"
"Trust me, Granger. I'll make it worth your while."
The sultry tone had Hermione, against her better judgement, take a huge drag of the cigarette. She coughed, still not entirely used to smoking- and whatever this was, it was strong.
Her head spun, and all of a sudden the air seemed to tickle her skin even more. Her limbs felt sluggish and overly sensitive.
"Was that- was that weed?"
Pansy scoffed.
"Weed? What is that, some sort of Muggle rubbish? This is far better than some garden garbage. It would make Sprout's toes curl if she had even a twig of it."
Pansy took a drag herself and then the long cigarette vanished.
She took Hermione's breasts in both hands and began to knead them more earnestly. Hermione threw her head back and gasped.
The Wizard Weed, or whatever it was called, was strange.
It gave her the lowered inhibitions and sluggish feeling of alcohol, but at the same time, her senses were all heightened, much like Fudlops. It wasn't quite as intense as either of those things, but it was enough to have her panting and gasping just by simple breast fondling.
"Oh god, oh god, Pansy, please, I need-"
So much for holding out on begging. Hermione was pathetic.
"What do you want? Use your little words, sweet."
"I want to see you naked."
"Get on the bed."
Hermione obeyed immediately, stumbling forward onto the mattress and lying flat on her back.
Pansy stood over her and shimmied her strapless black dress down.
She had no bra and no knickers.
Hermione groaned.
Pansy was exquisite naked.
Her skin was almost white under the moonlight, her lips devil red, nipples pale pink and a small tuft of trimmed black hair covering her nether parts.
She was like Snow White, but if Snow White were a Vampire.
Because Pansy certainly looked like she was about to devour Hermione in more ways than one.
Pansy's body felt soft and warm as she climbed on top of Hermione.
They rubbed together and Hermione squirmed and bucked as she felt their hips touch.
They caressed each other and moaned into each other's mouths as they kissed harder and harder.
Pansy began to trail open-mouthed kisses down Hermione's neck, her collar bone, her rib cage…
"What's this?" Pansy said sharply.
She yanked on Hermione's wrist and Hermione yelped.
Pansy was studying the place where Hermione's Mudblood scar was, currently hidden under a layer of concealing magic.
Hermione's glamour was state of the art, practically seamless. It was impressive that Pansy had spotted it.
"It's nothing," Hermione muttered, trying to pull her wrist away, but Pansy was stronger.
"Show me."
"I'd rather not. It's not very pretty to look at."
"Scars rarely are. I want you bare Granger, and that includes cover ups."
Pansy's lips were pursed stubbornly together.
Hermione recognized that expression.
The desire to want to know a secret and nothing could stand in the way.
Did Hermione want Pansy to see this part of her, though?
The night seemed over regardless. Nothing said 'mood killer' like a trauma scar.
Hermione reached for her wand on the table and prodded her mark.
The scars had healed over time but were impossible to erase. The thick white lines still undeniably scrawled the cruel word along her forearm.
Pansy sucked in her breath.
"Who did it?"
"Bellatrix."
"Draco's Aunt."
Hermione nodded.
Pansy's nails started to dig painfully into Hermione's arm. And then she released her and rolled away.
They lay side by side in silence.
"Do you think I am one?" Hermione finally asked.
"A what?"
"A Mudblood."
Pansy hissed.
"Of course not. Only utter morons still believe that."
"Do you think Muggles are stupid?"
Pansy paused.
"Yes."
"Have you ever met one?"
"I don't need to meet one to know they're biologically inferior."
"Pansy!"
Hermione sat up, angry.
"Don't you realise how hypocritical that sounds? To have such a strong, blanket opinion on the majority on the population, whom you haven't even met? Have you ever even been to the Muggle world?"
Pansy crossed her arms behind her head.
"That's like asking me if I've ever been to Grod Guppin's Hot Dog stand. Of course not, Granger, I don't patron what's beneath me."
Hermione felt her eyes getting wet.
She shouldn't be upset.
She knew this was coming.
It was only a matter of time before reality snuck up on the both of them and bopped them on the head.
They weren't the same at all, and it had been ludicrous to- to-
To what exactly?
Hermione stood up and rummaged for her clothes.
"I can't believe I- I should've never let it get this far!"
"Granger, I don't care that your parents are Muggles."
"Are you serious right now?" Hermione almost shrieked, "They're my parents and you think they're idiots! They're some of the smartest people I know, Wizards included!"
Pansy sat up and started to look angry herself.
"I brought you back to my home! In my bed! I don't do that for just anyone, you know!"
"Oh how gracious you are, to invite me to your home to personally ridicule me!" Hermione yelled shrilly, thrusting as much sarcasm in her tone as she could, "Forgive me for not bending the knee and kissing your ring! Shall I do that before you insult my heritage again, or after?"
Hermione found her wand and was about to magic her clothes back on when Pansy lunged and grabbed her arm.
"Let me go, you snobby bitch!"
"You think you can just yell at me and leave? Think again, prissy!"
Pansy was stronger. She wrestled Hermione onto the bed and straddled her.
"What the fuck is your problem?" Hermione spat, breathing hard.
"I'm sorry, all right?" Pansy shouted back.
"You don't get to keep me here against my will! It's against the law and I'll have you know that-"
Hermione stuttered to a halt.
"What did you say?" She asked suddenly.
Pansy glared down at her, her cheeks starting to turn pink.
"Don't you dare make me repeat it, you little cunt."
"Did you just- apologise?"
Pansy glowered.
Hermione glared at her.
"Say it again. Louder and with more feeling and then I'll stay."
"Oh, you are a cunt."
"Get off me, I'm going home."
Pansy sighed and released Hermione, sitting back on her haunches.
"I'm sorry I've hurt your feelings. You're right that I've never met a Muggle. I'm sure your parents are lovely. I'm sorry I called you an annoying priss and a cunt. There. Will you stay?"
She looked down and pursed her lips.
Hermione gaped.
Pansy Parkinson had just apologized?
To her?
Hermione wondered what it took for someone as haughty and cold as Pansy to apologise.
All because she wanted Hermione to stay?
Hermione licked her lips and her mouth tasted good. It was the sweet taste of victory.
"What about all the years you spent bullying me?"
"Granger, you've got to be fucking kidding me."
"I'm not laughing."
Pansy sighed and climbed off Hermione's legs.
"I'm sorry for that too, then."
Silence fell between them as they sat side by side, not looking at each other.
Whatever they'd smoked before had long dissipated. Hermione was left feeling cold and uncomfortably lucid.
"I appreciate that," she said softly.
Pansy shrugged, bringing her knees to her chest.
"I don't think that I'm in the mood for…er…" Hermione began awkwardly.
"It's fine."
Pansy got up and headed to her closet, wand in hand. She summoned a pair of white silk pajamas and tossed them at Hermione.
"Are you sure? I can just go home. I know you were probably looking for a more…eventful evening."
"I said it's fine, Granger. You're here now. You're a guest."
"I can summon my own pajamas."
Pansy snorted as she donned a black silk negligee.
"Let me guess, an old raggy T-shirt? My sheets are silk, too, and you can't lie on them with any old fabric. Especially cotton," Pansy shuddered, "Just take them, I have loads and those are my least favourites."
Hermione put on the pajamas.
They did feel quite nice and soft against her skin.
Pansy crawled under the duvet and Hermione followed suit.
"You can keep them," Pansy mumbled, "I loathe wearing things that other people have worn."
Hermione laughed softly.
"I've never met such a brat as you."
Pansy rolled over so she was facing Hermione. Their noses were almost touching.
"Of course you haven't. No one is like me and don't you forget it."
Pansy smirked.
Hermione was struck once more by how beautiful Pansy was, especially huddled under blankets and perfectly at ease.
"Goodnight, Granger."
"Goodnight."
Pansy closed her eyes and Hermione took the opportunity to study Pansy's face to her heart's content. The curve of her small nose, the sharp edges of her high cheeks, her sculpted eyebrows that arched gracefully over her long lashes.
Hermione fell asleep admiring those shapes and thinking how much softer they looked when Pansy slept.
/