The smell of breakfast was the first thing Hermione was conscious of.
When she opened her eyes, her vision was obscured by thick duvet.
She sprang up in a panic and then remembered it was Saturday and she wouldn't be late for her job this time.
She donned her clothes and folded the silk pyjamas, leaving them at the foot of Pansy's bed.
She could hear high-pitched humming.
As she descended the stairs and peeked into the kitchen, she saw a little Elf sporting an overly large chef's coat and hat, standing on a stool and piling scrambled eggs onto a plate.
"Ah! Good morning! Gentil is very happy to be seeing visitors for Miss Parkinson!"
"Good morning…Gentil," Hermione said slowly, looking around. "Are you expecting company? Should I be leaving?"
"Certainly not, miss! Gentil's job is to cook, though Miss Parkinson eats very little. Still, Gentil cooks and cleans as it is stated in his contract. Please, have some bacon!"
Gentil the Elf hopped off his stool, and waved his hands. Plates of bacon and eggs and sausage and fruit and toast floated onto a large mahogany table in the adjoining dining hall.
Hermione felt quite uncomfortable, standing alone in Pansy's kitchen. Gentil was beaming up at her, his eyes big and watery, looking so hopeful. The table was positively groaning under the weight of all the breakfast. It looked delicious, but somehow, it felt odd to be eating Pansy's food when she wasn't there. Hermione's stomach grumbled treacherously.
"Please, please!" The Elf insisted, bustling into her until Hermione stumbled into a chair.
To her surprise, the Elf joined her.
"Where is Pansy, anyway?"
"Miss Parkinson does not tell Gentil of her whereabouts, but Gentil sees Miss Parkinson leave the house. Gentil calls out to her, to eat with her guest, but Miss Parkinson seems not to hear Gentil."
"And…and do they treat you well, here?"
Gentil nodded enthusiastically, spearing sausages onto his plate.
"Gentil hasn't worked long in the Parkison residence. Their old Elf passed away recently and they hired Gentil soon after. Gentil has been employed for little less than a year!"
Hermione choked on her tea.
"Employed?"
"Yes! Gentil has worked in the Hogwarts kitchens before. All Elves is being paid there now, yes! But Gentil heard of this offer and the pay is much more, so Gentil came here."
Hermione knew there had been a rise in Elfish welfare in recent years, but she hadn't realised how wide-spread it had gotten. And it was true that most families had their Elves for generations. But once the Elf passed away, they had little choice in recruiting a new one- and many of these new ones had begun to demand pay.
Hermione scooped some bacon into her mouth with renewed gusto and Gentil beamed.
"Gentil cooks and cooks and tells Young Miss Parkinson it is best meal of day, but Miss Parkison eats only oats and grapefruit. Gentil has no choice but to eats the food his self. It is nice of Miss to join me, for once Gentil doesn't eat alone!"
"It's such a shame all this food is here with hardly anyone to eat it. Where does the rest go?"
"Gentil gives it to town strays and beggars. Master and Lady Parkinson keeps long list of things for Gentil to do. The House must be in best condition if one or both return on short notice. This includes cooking."
Hermione nodded in approval. Gentil seemed exceptional at his job. That being said, the whole situation was bizarre. Imagine being so rich to be able to pay someone to basically keep the house in order for hardly anyone at all. Elf wages probably weren't quite as high as a butler or a concierge, but still.
"Do Pansy's parents come home often?"
Gentil's face fell a little.
"I'm afraid not, Miss. Gentil has only seen them twice since the start of work. And never together. Sometimes Young Miss Parkinson brings friends, yes. A Mister Zamboni and a Mister Noggs. Sometimes she brings a Mister Mullfroy and a Mister Grool. No, rarely anyone stays at this residence. Even Young Miss Parkinson herself can disappear for several days at a time. Today is a rare treat and Gentil is happy that Miss Parkinson has made a good lady friend that stays over!"
Hermione smiled hesitantly, taking a bite of buttered potato.
She didn't have the heart to tell Gentil that she and Pansy weren't quite friends.
What were they, then?
And what of this living situation?
Was it lonely, being here without parents? Without siblings?
It sounded like Pansy had a solid core group of Slytherin graduates, but even then, it didn't sound like they were here every day.
And no one ever spent the entire night here.
Hermione was the first.
Did that mean anything? Or was it just a coincidence? Pansy wasn't even here. Where had she gone off to?
"What does Pansy usually do to pass the time?"
It felt slightly manipulative, gleaning this Elf for more information on Pansy, while she was away.
The Elf seemed to delight in talking to Hermione, however, and didn't shy from details.
"Young Miss Parkinson rarely tells Gentil where she goes, but often she returns with books, or clothes, or trinkets. Miss Pansy likes her shopping, yes, but also she reads, for long days and she writes and writes. She does not tell Gentil, but Gentil knows she writes sometimes to friends, or sometimes secret things. Miss Parkinson plays the violin, the piano, the guitar and the contrabass. Often Gentil will hear her play and she is marvellous. Other times she-"
Gentil stopped, as if on the verge of saying too much.
"It's okay, Gentil, you don't have to tell me, if you can't," Hermione supplied gently and Gentil seemed to relax.
Hermione's curiosity was brimming, but she didn't want to push her only source of information too far. She opted for a subject change instead.
"What does Pansy do for work?"
"Work?"
"Er, yes. Her job?"
The Elf blinked.
"Miss Parkinson goes out often, but has never mentionned a job. Her parents had her take many classes, oh yes, but never a job."
Hermione frowned.
"What sorts of classes?"
"Gentil does not know, but Gentil sees Miss Parkinson studying hard and Gentil hears talk. The Young Miss has taken many classes in etiquette and dancing and languages and finances and cooking."
Hermione swallowed a lump in her throat.
All classes that involved keeping a house. It almost sounded like they were raising her to be wed. But that couldn't be right- this wasn't the 1800s afterall.
"Gentil-"
"Thank you very much for joining Gentil. Gentil has been honoured to share this breakfast with Miss Parkinson's good friend. Not many witches or wizards take the time to sit with Gentil. If Miss may excuse me, Gentil must be off to do the washing and tend to chores. Please stay as long as Miss wishes."
Perhaps the Elf had finally realised he'd said too much, though he made no signs of it, as he bowed and hopped off his chair to head into the kitchen.
Hermione departed soon after, still no signs of Pansy anywhere.
Once she passed the front gates and wards she turned to look back at the towering mansion.
Before Apparating away, she made a note of the address. She wasn't planning on ever needing to Floo here.
But you could never know when these sorts of things came in handy.
/
The next week passed in a flurry of routine.
Between boughts of work and chores, Hermione powered through most of her new books.
Her social life had been drastically diminished, since she declined all events where Ron would be. That being said, she didn't reach out to anyone either.
She felt like she needed time to ground herself. To take care of herself and be alone for a bit.
When she'd finished the last book on German Wizarding Government History, she found only one book was left in the pile she'd recently purchased.
She gingerly picked up A Long Hard Quest. Pansy's note fluttered out of it.
Hermione caught it and stared at the writing.
She hadn't heard a word from Pansy since the night she'd stayed over.
Perhaps Pansy had grown bored of her.
Then again, it wasn't like Pansy could just Floo call. They weren't really friends like that and Hermione still didn't really know where they stood.
Hermione began to read.
The main characters were cheesy, but the plot was just engrossing enough that Hermione didn't put the book down all evening.
When she finally got to the first spicy scene, she felt the familiar tug of arousal between her legs.
He cupped her breasts sensuously, flicking his thumbs over her pebbled nubs.
Ugh.
Hermione hated the word nubs.
Still she read on.
Heat pooled in her vaginal flower, as she pulled out his veiny length, feeling the weight in her palm.
Hermione rolled her eyes.
Oh please. Vaginal flower my arse.
Hermione's mind started to wander.
Pansy had no problems in playing with Hermione's…nubs. In fact, she'd been rather good at it.
Hermione set the book down, and let her mind wander.
Pansy's tongue, dipping into Hermione's mouth.
Pansy's nails on Hermione's thighs.
The way the moonlight had played off of Pansy's naked body.
Hermione shivered and pushed a hand down the waist band of her jeans.
She bit her lip as her index and forefinger massaged the area around her clit.
What would have happened if the two of them hadn't been interrupted by Hermione's scar?
Hadn't been interrupted by their fundamental differences?
No, don't think about that.
Think about how hard Pansy kissed.
How her body felt.
Her fingers inside-
Hermione bit her lip and began to furiously rub her clit.
Her fingers were now slicked up.
Her breathing was heavy. She bucked gently, imagining Pansy's mouth on her, Pansy's tongue pushing into her center-
"Mrow."
Hermione almost jumped out of her seat.
"Crookshanks!"
Of course the sodding car had to interrupt her now.
Hermione got up, washed her hands and changed her knickers.
She fed Crooks his kibbles, grumbling the whole time.
It felt like the universe kept insisting that Pansy wasn't good for Hermione.
Things just kept interrupting her, the timing was never right, etc.
Pansy and her were clearly different. Apart from the electric sexual chemistry, they lived in different worlds.
Yet there was a pull there, that Hermione couldn't explain. Pansy intrigued her.
It felt like their lives had become tangled up and Hermione didn't know how to unwind the thread.
Hermione thought about Pansy's gigantic mansion. How Gentil cooked and cleaned just for her, because no one else was around.
"I brought you back to my home! In my bed! I don't do that for just anyone, you know!"
Was that true?
Hermione had felt so alone after her breakup with Ron.
She was under the impression that Pansy had been lonely for much, much longer.
She settled in and forced herself to finish A Long Hard Quest.
When she was done, it was past midnight.
She wrapped the book up in paper, slung it in a bag and attached a note.
Dear Pansy,
The book you 'recommended' is complete rubbish. Enjoy.
Hermione
She cast a featherlight charm to the bundle and attached it to her owl, Fern.
Fern gave her a quick nip and fluttered off into the night.
The next morning, Fern was back on her perch, preening her feathers. A package sat on the windowsill.
/
Hermione was distracted at work.
She hadn't had the time to fully investigate the package, since she had a tightly scheduled morning routine before hurrying out the door.
She reviewed documents, answered letters, attended meetings and tried to keep her head in the game.
Kingsley offered her a fig newton round eleven.
She refilled his coffee.
Time passed.
She'd just settled in with her lunch around noon when a voice interrupted her thoughts.
A wooden toy goose on Kinglsey's desk jumped up and began squawking in the voice of Marion, their secretary.
"Dean Thomas to see you, Miss Granger."
"Oh! Yes, thank you, Marion."
A knock on the door promptly followed.
Hermione opened it and found Dean standing on the other side, smiling slightly.
"Hi," he said simply.
He wore a grey suit that fit his broad shoulders well. He grinned, with a smile that lit up his whole face.
She'd never taken the time to really notice how handsome he was.
"Hello, Dean. Is there anything I can help you with? Would you like to take a seat?"
"Oh, no, I'll be quick. Actually, I, er…"
Dean looked at his shoes momentarily and then his eyes swept up to meet Hermione's.
"I'm having a gathering at my place. It's my birthday actually, and I'd like to invite you."
"Oh. Oh! Why that's- that's very kind!" Hermione answered, a little high-pitched.
She was caught off guard.
Dean has been asking about you.
Ginny's voice reverberated in Hermione's head.
A birthday gathering.
It wasn't outright a date, but Dean perhaps wanted to see more of Hermione in a casual setting, to see if they would click.
But did Hermione feel anything for Dean?
She still felt a bit raw from Ron and didn't know if she was ready for another relationship yet.
She felt like she still had to work on herself, to feel comfortable being single.
There was also the Pansy situation, but Pansy was clearly out seeing other people.
Wasn't she? She seemed to still go to the nightclubs often enough.
And what Hermione and Pansy were doing- it was surely only temporary. It was diverting for now, but they could never be serious. Not when they were both so different and Pansy probably already had a long line of interested, gorgeous, gothic party-goers who were much more fun and experienced than Hermione.
Hermione felt something unpleasant twinge her insides.
Dean was a good man. A hard worker who treated everyone with equal respect. Pleasant, easy-going and easy on the eyes.
A birthday party seemed fairly harmless, and Dean did seem very earnest as he waited patiently for her answer.
"I would love to go. I'm very flattered at the invite," Hermione said warmly.
Dean's eyes lit up.
"Great! Do you have parchment handy? I'll write you the address and Floo time. It'll be Saturday, I hope that isn't too last minute?"
When Hermione arrived home, she felt a bit light-headed. Dehydration, probably.
She poured herself a glass and, with a jolt of surprise, remembered her package.
She brought it to her recliner and tore open the attached letter.
Darling Granger,
I'm fairly certain I recommended no such thing. Only plebeian twats would abase themselves to reading utter nonsense like A Long Hard Quest. But since you foolishly slogged through it, I'll indulge you and skim through it myself. In the meantime, I've attached a genuine recommendation that won't make your eyes bleed.
Lustful as always,
Pansy
Hermione snorted so loudly, it woke Crookshanks from his snooze.
She unwrapped the package and found a plain, leather bound book.
A Tale of the Fae and the Succubus.
Hermione read until she fell asleep in the chair.
/
Hermione finished the book in two nights.
It was extraordinary.
Hermione had never read a Sapphic romance before, and found it surprisingly to her liking. She'd blushed thoroughly reading several descriptively lewd passages and found the vocabulary and story pacing to be above average, better than a lot of, if not most of, her heterosexual romance novels.
She packaged it back up with a quick note on her favourite parts and another one of her steamy favourites (A Court of Willows and Wands) and sent Fern off into the night.
Fern returned two hours later, with another package.
Darling Granger,
As predicted, A Long Hard Quest was nothing short of torture. I hope you haven't cared much for it, because I tossed it in the fire after reading two pages. I've enclosed the second book in my favourite series because of course you'll like it. I'll take a look at the one you sent me- it already looks leagues more promising- not that the bar was raised very high in the first place.
Lust,
Pansy
Ps: I'll make sure to spare a thought for you during the juicy scenes.
Hermione had laughed out loud at Pansy burning the book and felt her neck heat at the post-script.
She would think of Hermione?
While…while wanking?
Hermione's neck warmed to furnace levels.
She unwrapped Pansy's book and A Tale of the Fae and the Vixen fell into her lap.
It looked like her week was going to be a good one.
/
Hermione was devastated.
Unable to put the book down for long, she'd decided to read more through her lunch hour, since Kingsley was out of office again.
She was nearly at the end and one of the main characters had just died in an honourable and tragic death.
She held back tears, finding it both improper and embarassing to cry in the office over a silly book.
Still, Hermione was emotionally frustrated, and had no one she could talk to about it.
She welcomed the distraction of afternoon meetings and more memo-writing on contacting officials in charge of various departments.
She loved her job.
It was enlightening and fascinating to see how government worked from the inside.
Their biggest project was currently overseeing funds to be distributed to Werewolf rehabilition centers- something Hermione was currently working extra hard on in order to see it through.
This involved getting in touch with specialists that ranged from Werewolf academics to potion masters to even building contractors.
It also meant going through poll listings to test the ever-changing pulse of the general public. The results were promising that the project would pull through and Hermione was thrilled to see its progress.
There was lots to do and Hermione hardly saw the time fly by.
It was close to eight pm when she arrived home.
She settled in with a cup of tea and the last hundred pages of The Tale of The Fae and The Vixen.
Before she started reading and got all wound up again over the tragic events of the story, she picked up her wand and cast a Patronus.
Her Otter burst from her wand tip, lazily swimming through the air in slow circles.
"A message for Pansy Parkinson: 'You could have warned me Eleonora was going to die. Thanks to you, I nearly bawled myself silly into my sandwich at lunch today.'"
The otter flipped on its back and swam right out the window, disappearing into the night.
Hermione barely had the time to read three more pages before she jumped in surprise.
A large panther appeared before her, licking its paw in a haughty manner that was undeniably Pansy-esque.
"A sandwich? Really, Granger? Are you five? I think it's fitting that Eleonora dies- she was reckless and naive. Though if it's any consolation, I bawled myself silly as well. Don't you dare tell anyone."
Hermione tittered, putting a finger to hold her page while she thought of a reply.
"Eleanore was also very brave to give everything up for love. How are you Enjoying a Court of Willows and Wands?"
This time, Hermione barely had time to get through half a page before the panther was back, staring at her intently.
"Brave is a synonym for stupid, so I suppose we agree. Willows and Wands is decent. I've read so many books with hetero couples that I've grown rather bored of the tropes, but this one manages to hold its own. Isn't quite spicy enough for my tastes, but the plot is compelling."
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Not spicy enough? There are two very descriptive spicy scenes and anyway, when you overuse them, they become meaningless!"
Pansy's reply came barely one minute later.
"I suppose I have a very big appetite. Come over Saturday and I'll show you."
Hermione's jaw dropped as the panther disappeared.
Her whole body began to tingle in anticipation.
Yes, she very much wanted to see Pansy on Saturday, for sexual reasons.
Hermione was surprised, however, to find that she wanted to see Pansy in person for other reasons as well.
It would be a good opportunity to discuss their literature in person, without exhausting their magic via Patronus.
Also it felt rather nice to be in this sort of…romantic book club. It was rare that Hermione could find someone interested in the same things as her. She liked to think that she had a very wide range of interests, but unfortunately, her inner circle was mostly Quidditch fans and Snorkack-believers. Not exactly the same interests at all.
She sent her Otter back with the brief reply of: "I'll be there."
/