Chapter 25: TBD, Part 6 - TBD No More
Two days into the automatic extension of their 30-day consummation deadline Hermione Granger and Bellatrix Lestrange found themselves inside the dimly lit master bedroom of the Black's Grotto House once again.
Hermione ran her hands through her hair. She wasn't sure how many more interactions with the witch she could take. She went from keeping at least ten feet of space between herself and her former torturer to breathing literally the same air in a matter of a week. And she kept repeating the experience almost every other day.
That was too much!
Each interaction resulted in the unpleasant rollercoaster of emotions. She was fearful of the witch. She was suspicious of the witch's choice of the role in their interactions. She was also secretly grateful for that choice. Hermione doubted she could bear the witch in control of the act and not run away screaming. Their latest attempt actually confirmed that she indeed would run away, even if not screaming. Then, there were times when Hermione got distracted and instead of fear she felt concern; she felt as if she was coercing the witch; and that made everything that was happening, and not happening, even worse.
She brushed her fingers over a small vial in her pocket. Bellatrix's suggestion. The way a similar thing worked on Ron, Hermione hoped it might actually work for her purpose too.
… That morning at breakfast the two sat quietly. Hermione pensively poked at her eggs occasionally glancing at the dark witch. Hermione didn't know what Bellatrix's deal was but the witch was almost cheerful and pleasant since their library conversation. Yet, nothing significantly changed about their situation in Hermione's opinion. Tomorrow they'd be at the deadline, same as they were a couple days ago.
'You must have some ideas!' she finally blurted in frustration.
'Imperius.' the reply was immediate.
'I'm not casting an Unforgivable!'
'It is not I who needs extra encouragement.'
'In your dreams, Lestrange!' The dark witch hummed and Hermione shot her the narrowed look. 'Besides, you forget, the rules apply to you too. You must not use Unforgivables if you want to have any hope of going free.'
'Whatever.' The witch didn't look upset or discouraged. She was smirking. 'If it is your brain you want to cloud, use potion.'
'It is still too late for Polyjuice-'
'Not Polyjuice! Lust.'
'Lestrange, I am not drinking Amorentia with you!'
'Not Love, silly-.. not Love, Lust. Simpler ingredients, simpler brewing, and it can be as short-lived as you make it to be.'
'That's great, really. Only I know nothing about brewing lust potions! Not exactly on Hogwarts list of approved subjects!'
'I'll get you a book. Lucky for you, plenty of purebloods were interested in the subject over the centuries.'
'From the other library?'
The witch just hummed.
'Alright, worth a try… You'll take it too then.'
'What?! Why?'
'I'm not going to be the only one drugged.'
That dampened the dark witch's mood somewhat, but still she agreed...
So here they were, hours later, with a small vial of pinkish liquid each in their possession.
Hermione grabbed the toy, and nodded at the bottles of wine and firewhiskey.
'Help yourself, I'm going to attach this.'
'Wait,' Bellatrix glared at the tiny bottle in her fingers, very clearly displeased with having to take the potion too. 'Let's drink the potion first… to let it set in?'
Hermione shrugged. It made no difference to her.
'And Miss Granger? These vials are good for 15 maybe 20 minutes, don't take detours. I won't want to stop, and I'd do my best not to startle you again.'
'Right.'
'And-'
'I remember. I don't know how touching would go, though. The spellbook said the person might not be entirely in charge of themselves… or was it entirely not in charge … Uhm…I'll do my best not to cross any lines.'
The dark witch nodded. She read the same book. They both took part in brewing. Neither trusting the other enough to drink unsupervised concoction.
After both drank from the tiny bottles, Hermione went to the ensuite .
Bellatrix kept an eye on the closed bathroom door as she fished another vial out of her cleavage.
She frowned at the liquid.
With a sigh she settled in the middle of the bed hoping that this would be the evening. This was becoming ridiculous. She drank the potion when the ensuite door started to open. Her hand with the small vial still in it fell softly to her side as Hermione stepped out.
Hermione waited for her eyes to adjust after the brightness of the bathroom.
Bellatrix was in the middle of the bed as was her custom. Unlike the custom, the dark eyes were glued to Hermione instead of the curtains.
In the bathroom she thought the potion felt like nothing.
She was wrong!
Her body's drugged response to the black eyes running over her form was immediate. She couldn't remember ever being this aroused. She felt hot all over. Her nipples actually ached! And it felt like she cast the lubrication spell, several times, which she most definitely did not do.
And the bloody purple stick wasn't even activated yet.
And if all that wasn't enough, an angry beehive took residence at the back of her mind. Every thought and impulse unrelated to the witch in front of her felt muted, unimportant. Only the strong urge to get close to the witch was allowed to the front of her mind. The witch was enchanting, irresistible, breathtaking. How did she not notice it before…
She found herself standing next to the bed before she even realized that she had moved.
She clenched her fist to have some measure of control, and looked around… anywhere but at the reclining witch.
The bottles and glasses stood where she put them, untouched.
'I don't drink in the bedroom,' came the flat reply to her questioning glance.
Hermione hid her surprise with a shrug. Bellatrix sure drank plenty of wine pretty much everywhere else.
Bellatrix flicked her gaze to the same spot that she found so fascinating during the two previous evenings. Hermione felt the sharp pang of rejection. The black orbs glued back to Hermione after a short moment . Perhaps the witch had her own buzzing going on at the back of her skull…
Hermione swallowed hard. Her eyes were once again fixed on the black-clad witch. How on Earth was she supposed to keep her hands to herself. Even thinking of doing that was painful.
She looked at the wine bottle, that would be a more dignified option. She opened the firewhiskey instead and took a long sip straight from the bottle.
Dark eyes studied her, elegant brows frowning slightly.
'What?'
'Nothing.'
'Really?'
Bellatrix cleared her throat.
'I don't like alcohol in the bedroom.'
'Are you asking me not to drink?'
The witch turned her eyes to study the curtain.
'No, of course not.'
Hermione puffed in annoyance and took another long sip of the firewhiskey studying the pale face. And then for some reason Hermione felt bad. And even more than that she felt a pang of disappointment that the witch's eyes were not looking at her anymore. She craved to have the attention back.
She vanished the bottles.
'Sorry, here, all gone. The potion should be enough to move things along anyway.'
Bellatrix's eyes were back on her. Hermione felt unreasonably pleased by that.
The buzzing at the back of her head appeared to be spreading. Her back and to her limbs itched and tingled, begging her to move, to get close, to touch.
How could she possibly keep a hold of herself?!..
She clenched her fists tighter, and bit her cheek for good measure. She didn't think she could stop if she touched Bellatrix even once.
'Miss Granger… the potion has time limits, if you recall?'
'Right, yes' her voice sounded strangled.
The girl was not moving. It was an impressive display of mental fortitude. Impressive but very ill-timed.
Bellatrix closed her eyes and sighed. Her voice dropped to just above a whisper.
'Miss Gran- Hermione… Do you remember the other night, Hermione?'
The girl swallowed audibly as their eyes met. Then nodded.
'When you were close to me?'
A nod.
'On top of me?'
Another nod.
'Inside of me?'
The girl whimpered, eyes wide. Then nodded again.
'It felt so good.'
Bellatrix ran her eyes suggestively over the girl's form pausing at her hips.
Running a hand along her body or reaching for the girl would have helped but that was not an option right now.
And perhaps not even needed.
The girl was finally on the bed.
'So good I couldn't keep my hands to myself. You must remember that?..'
The girl nodded mutely as she crawled closer to Bellatrix.
Bellatrix's voice dropped even lower, became breathy.
'I want to feel you again Hermione… I want you so much.'
Hermione found herself in the middle of the bed in front of the Bellatrix's parted legs. She paused. Unlike previous times Bellatrix didn't move to accommodate her. The witch just stared at her with a challenging smirk. She couldn't help herself. She pushed the dress up, nudged the legs slightly, and slid between the open knees.
She cast the spell on the toy. If she waited any longer she'd forget what to cast and how. As she suspected, even the casual brush of their legs was enough to keep the spell active.
She ran her hands up the slender legs pushing the dress higher.
'Please…'
That was all the dark witch whispered and the last of Hermione's self control evaporated.
She pushed the long dress the rest of the way up and pushed the legs further apart sliding higher between them.
She moved one of the bared legs meaning to hook it over her waist but instead brought it higher up to pepper kisses over the ankle.
She wondered if that was a detour in Bellatrix's book…
Her eyes flew up to check Bellatrix's reaction. The dark eyes were closed. The breaths were fast. The lips slightly parted.
She looked away from the beautiful face before she gave into the temptation to kiss the witch. Her eyes instead zeroed on the lack of the knickers over the pale skin and the hint of the dark curls…
The beehive in her head awakened anew. She needed to be as close to the witch as possible. She let go of the leg she was kissing and climbed up higher.
The witch wanted no detours and Hermione suddenly was happy to oblige.
'Please…' The older witch whispered brokenly.
Hermione gripped the bed sheets on one side of the dark witch head, lined the toy, and pushed inside.
The buzzing on the back of her mind muted to a pleased hum. But it was still there. Urging her to move faster, to kiss the open cleavage, to kiss the lips, to caress the breasts. She compromised by burying her head in the crook of the witch's neck, and focusing on the sensations the toy was sending through her whole body.
'Your no touching rule … Bellatrix… it is torture… you'd be pleased to know' she mumbled into the black mane somewhere close to the witch's ear.
The situation was quite familiar at this point. She settled into a rhythm, and felt the pleasure build. Bellatrix's rapid breathing and faint moans and whimpers only added to it. The consummation was getting closer with every move. She could almost feel it.
'Miss Granger?'
The witch was evil! Hermione was sure a vein or two would blow up in her brain if she had to stop.
'Yes…' a groan more than a word.
'Can you talk?'
Evil! Just evil!
'You want to talk now ?!' she couldn't help the whimper even as she slowed her movements to the slow rocking.
'I want you to talk…'
Hermione's brain had trouble processing. The swarm of bees at the back of it was growing angry.
'uhm… never mind' the witch breathed at the next moment.
'No no I'll talk… of course I can talk… Some say I do nothing but talk… I'm sure I can talk while my brain is exploding… no problem… no problem at all…' she bubbled on not entirely sure what she was saying. She resumed the faster rhythm, and felt the orgasm building up once again. The witch was not asking her to stop. Wasn't pushing her away. Even if she asked her to recite the bloody potions textbook she would do so happily as long as she didn't need to stop in the next minute or so…
Perhaps it is not the potions recipes the witch had in mind. Hermione got an idea for sort of a topic.
'Hm.. so.. uh… beautiful… you are so beautiful, Bellatrix… but you know that of course… your eyes and your hair and everything… yes absolutely... everything… and you well you feel divine… definitely warmer than expected… so good… so very good-'
'I'm already yours, you don't have to do this'
'Here I thought you were smarter than that, Bella' A wave of his wand and her clothing was gone. She forced herself to stay impassive. 'Magnificent… and all mine…' His hand ran over the scars. 'I didn't go to all the trouble, took on all that risk to stay friends, Bella.'
'Oh Roddy we'd never be friends…and we never were.'
This had to happen. She knew, and yet childishly she hoped that it wouldn't. She was willing to let go of her fury and reconsider her revenge for what he had already done if only he'd let her be. She knew he wouldn't. She was not blind. For years his eyes followed her every move at Hogwarts, at high society gatherings, at family outings. His machinations were as much about power and standing, as they were about his desire and obsession.
The boy hooked her leg over his elbow spreading her legs uncomfortably wide. She felt him against her. She tried to relax and let it happen as her mother instructed. Her mother was clearly insane.
'Please…'
Her words were swallowed by a bitten off whimper.
'Mine, you are mine Bella. Say it!'
She couldn't help the pained giggle. She'd set herself on fire before she repeated that.
Rodolphus could have his night.
He would have a lifetime to regret it...
...She kept her eyes closed, and her expression as neutral as she could manage. She preferred not to see him even if she felt his longish hair on her face.
The sex wasn't as unpleasant as she expected.
As she remembered.
That was strange.
How could she remember…
Her breathing hitched and sped up. Roddy should be properly angry by now at her lack of response. She waited for a split lip, and for the bruised eye that would follow soon after.
And waited.
And waited.
'Your no touching rule … is torture…'
Rodolphus sounded odd.
The bastard would pay. She made sure. Saw it happening. Saw him live with the knowledge. And saw him die.
She smiled at that.
But that was strange too.
Those were not fantasies. Those were memories.
How could she have memories…
Ah, but of course…
Her husband was dead.
The mudblood girl.
Hermione Granger.
The bloody consummation. And her supremely idiotic decision. Surely she'd have been able to keep her hands to herself. Nothing to do about it now. She was slipping back into the past. Unless…
'Miss Granger?'
'Yes?'
'Can you talk?'
The girl sounded inane, and sort of innocently sweet. It wasn't possible to mistake her past and her present now even if she tried. She didn't try. She liked her present much better.
There was no reason to hide. She opened her eyes.
The eyes barely an inch from her own widened in surprise. She felt several harder thrusts. The girl shuddered and stilled on top of her. Either the younger witch was great at faking it or the bloody marriage was finally consummated…
'Was it alright? Are you alright? Sorry I passed out on top of you… You should have just pushed me off. I can't freak out if I'm already out.'
Hermione looked at Bellatrix with concern.
That was unacceptable.
Bellatrix needed something to occupy the girl's mind before it started to focus on the wrong things.
'You kept to the plan.'
'For the most part... Wasn't easy… I'm surprised you were that unaffected.'
'You are not that irresistible, Mugglespawn.'
'Right.' The girl pursed her lips and gave the older witch an unamused grin. 'Being civil isn't needed anymore… Don't worry, you won't need to…' She threw the scourgified toy on the bed and strode to the doors. 'Definitely worked this time. I'll be out of your space soon enough.'
That didn't sound as reassuring to Bellatrix as it once might have been.
'Miss Granger?'
The younger witch paused.
'I do expect a ring at some point in the near future.'
'I'm not a man!'
'That's not an excuse.'
'You are unbelievable, Lestrange!'
The door slammed closed.
The corners of thin lips rose up even as a small part of the dark witch felt uneasy. The girl did absolutely nothing to deserve her venom.
Bellatrix listened to the retreating steps, and the slam of the master suite doors, and waited. Finally the thin fingers twitched.
She pulled the dress hem down and sat up.
The urge to throw up passed a while ago but the wish for a bath and a drink did not. Drugging herself was a mistake. She hadn't thought of that night in decades.
Both witches stayed awake in their rooms till the clock passed 5am. Both sighed in relief as the final seal on their Intent contracts shone golden yellow and then turned from the regular ink symbol to the golden embossed stamp.
End of Chapter 25