Chapter 47: The Dragon's Kiss
The sun was high when Hermione woke up.
Bellatrix was still asleep, mostly hidden under the blankets. One hand, as happened often during their sleepovers, sought out contact with Hermione, and currently rested over Hermione's forearm.
The gifted ring sat somewhat askew on Bellatrix's finger. Every minute twitch made the sunlight bounce through the layers of the dragon stone anew. The sunburst swirled faster in response, and the stone glowed brilliant purple as a result.
Hermione found Bellatrix attachment to the ring in equal parts pleasing and vexing.
Must be like having your own pet dragon… pet dragon you have sex with... terrifying... but thrilling…
Ginny observed the other week. With Hermione's continued survival and improved mood, Ginny began treating the topic of Hermione's marriage like any other. With utter cheekiness.
Get out of line and... RAWWRRRR!
Hermione found the sentiment ridiculous, if slightly, very slightly, amusing.
There was no such thing as a pet dragon.
Anyone arrogant enough to think otherwise was bound to be bitten, burned, or eaten soon after.
Bellatrix yawned, stretched, and rubbed the last of sleep from her eyes.
Hermione's eyes followed the witch's movements.
Their eyes met.
The corner of Bellatrix's lips lifted. One black eyebrow rose.
Hermione felt her cheeks heat up.
Bellatrix's eyes held some undefined expression.
Challenge?.. Puzzlement?.. Curiosity?..
'Ginny thinks you're a dragon.' Hermione blurted out.
That did not help the awkwardness of the moment at all.
Her cheeks flushed even brighter red.
The second black eyebrow rose.
Bellatrix snorted, and, making a poor imitation of a roar, lunged.
Hermione yelped, and flipped their positions without much thought. Or much effort. Her strong aversion to Bellatrix ever having an upper ground was very much intact.
Bellatrix looked up at Hermione, unbothered.
'Hungarian Horntail'
The most dangerous and aggressive of the known breeds. Of course. The breed that Harry picked at the Triwizard tournament. Hermione wasn't about to share that piece of information though.
'Not Hebridean Black?' Hermione murmured instead.
'No I don't-'
The witch paused, wet her lips, shot a quick look down their entangled position.
Hermione swallowed.
If not for the several thick bunched up blankets between them, Hermione's knee would have been pressing into Bellatrix quite compromisingly. All of her would have been pressing into all of Bellatrix quite compromisingly. Perhaps she already was. Bellatrix's voice was uncharacteristically low, her expression odd, the vein in her neck noticeably fast. Hermione's own pulse settled in her ears a few moments ago.
Hermione tried to figure a way out of her situation, before she got hexed.
Bellatrix's hand sneaked under Hermione's shirt, and wrapped around her back. It didn't pull her close, but it wasn't letting her move away either. Not discreetly, at least.
'I don't need quite as much personal space as they do.'
'Horntails do certainly enjoy engaging with their surroundings,' Hermione muttered.
Nails ran lightly along Hermine's back making her shiver.
'Your friend doesn't take you for a dragon?'
'Whi- which dragon?'
'Hm... Chinese fireball.'
A hand pushed the black hair off the pale face, making Bellatrix's breath catch.
'Intelligent, and nice to other dragons… I like that. So... the Fireball and the Horntail... are they ever friendly to each other?'
'Don't see why not...'
'Perhaps more than friendly...'
'Perhaps...'
Every new statement brought them closer to each other, entwined them more into each other.
Just a fraction of an inch separated their lips.
'Something like this?..'
'Sure-'
Hermione's lips covered Bellatrix's.
Bellatrix's eyes closed.
Hermione didn't think she could close her own. She couldn't entirely believe what was happening was actually happening.
They were kissing.
She was kissing Bellatrix Lestrange. And Bellatrix Lestrange was kissing her back.
In the bright light of day…
Without a drop of alcohol... Or potion…
Under no deadline or directive but their own impulse to do so…
Bellatrix kissed like she was content to match Hermione's pace and style. Bellatrix kissed like kissing was the main event, and not a step to something more important. The strangest of all, Bellatrix kissed like she enjoyed kissing Hermione... like she could be happy doing that for a while.
She would never have believed Bellatrix kissed like that... kissed her like that.
Yet here it was happening, under her own tingling lips, in front of her own crossed eyes.
Hermione pulled away to catch her breath. She took in the slightly parted lips, the faint flush on the pale cheeks, the rapid breathing. Bellatrix was definitely into it.
The black eyes opened.
The expression in them was wondrous, warm and present. No one ever looked at Hermione quite like that before. Desire, possessiveness, affection... sure, but not this stunned amazement.
Hermione hesitated. Kiss her again... Apologize... Have a conversation... Under Bellatrix's gaze her courage seemingly took a leave of absence. She was suddenly shy and nervous. She could almost feel her hands sweating.
In the next few blinks the black eyes shuttered. The expression dimmed until only the familiar blank look remained. The faint blush on Bellatrix's cheeks darkened.
'Enough!'
Bellatrix pushed Hermione away and quickly got out of bed.
The dark witch was angry. For the life of her, Hermione had no idea why.
'Never knew you lot to be this good at pretending!'
Bellatrix sneered even as she snatched the summoned robe from the air and put it on.
'What are you talking about?!'
Bellatrix looked like she indeed could, and would, breath fire.
'I know, alright! I know!' The witch fumed. 'I saw what you think. You said so yourself, Granger, we don't have to do anything anymore! So don't!'
The ensuite door slammed.
Hermione blinked at the closed door in disbelief.
'Well, damn.'
Hermione flopped on her back.
'Will you come down for breakfast?'
Something crushed against the door.
'I'm not starving on your behalf!'
That sounded like a yes.
The overly polite stage was clearly over.
A welcome change.
That version of Bellatrix was downright spooky.
This version though... was all over the place.
Hermione didn't wait for Bellatrix to emerge. She wasn't that eager to have a confrontation. She was going to freshen up and have some food first. She was positive her mind was blank moments after kissing the witch... She wondered what Bellatrix saw in her head to get so... upset.
She started to get angry too.
Under no circumstance the dark witch had permission to snoop inside her head. Natural Legilimens or not.
It was enough that she snooped in her room...
The room or the head, they were going to have a serious conversation about snooping, and about conversing like adults.
As soon as the witch came down for breakfast!
Bellatrix looked at the broken hair brush. And screamed.
It had been awhile since she destroyed something for the sake of destroying.
She so hated casting the Reparo without a wand. The results were rarely disastrous. They also rarely turned out exactly as before.
She waved at the tub to start filling, and leaned against the cold marble of the wall.
Things were not going according to any plan.
Bellatrix closed her eyes and like a true torturer poked where it hurt.
..The body weighed her down. The hands cradled her face. The lips covered hers.
The girl was everywhere, and yet, Bellatrix wasn't disappearing.
She didn't feel like less. She felt like more. She could have felt like that for a while.
Too quickly the lips were gone, and the weight was lighter, and the girl silently nervously stared at her.
And at that moment Bellatrix realized what the green 2 truly meant. And she felt so very stupid...
It wasn't that she didn't allow enough. The girl had means to make her. It was that she was too much. This made so much more sense!
The girl was jumping through the Ministry's hoops. And she clearly hated every moment of it.
The girl even limited her time at her precious school to give them a way out of extra scrutiny.
She created all those silly rules and expectations, a way for Bellatrix to back out.
She gave Bellatrix the choice of the next activities, a way out of this engagement without losing face.
And Bellatrix had done the absolute opposite every single time. She thought the girl expected more... not less.
No wonder the girl, who didn't have any issues with potions or alcohol in the bedroom before, snapped and picked a fight over a bloody potion...
This revelation still felt off to Bellatrix. Though it certainly made so much more sense then her previous assumption.
That had gone on long enough. Bellatrix was going to take her bath. And she was going to have her breakfast. And she was going to confront the girl. Let her explain herself. Let her admit to what was her true preferred state of being for once!
End of Chapter 47