Chapter Text
Draco looked skeptically at Hermione’s seemingly innocent response. He raised an eyebrow in a manner he had learned from his mother and was pleased with the slight reaction on his friend’s face. But more amusing was the vaguely shaken look on his aunt’s face. Hermione had clearly gotten to her. And it was about time someone or something had.
“Oh, you know how Harry is,” Draco said smoothly.
“French toast?”
Draco chuckled at the sheer joy in Hermione’s tone.
“Like I would ever skip your favorite.” Harry’s smile was clear in his tone.
“And just when I thought this morning couldn’t get better,” Hermione said enthusiastically.
“I had no idea you were so excited about seeing me and planning a bonding,” Draco said dryly. He appreciated that Hermione looked a little sheepish as she gazed longingly at his mother and aunt.
“Be nice, Draco,” Andy said with a hand on Hermione’s arm.
“I am always nice,” he said with a fake affront. “I just also happen to know what Hermione Jean Granger looks like after breaking a rule. Part nerves, part exhilaration.”
“And what rule did you break?“
Hermione visibly shuddered at the tone of Bellatrix’s question but quickly brought her body under control. When she turned to Bellatrix, she was the picture of innocence.
“I stopped for a cup of coffee.”
The dark witch snorted at the answer. It was entirely accurate and yet not the entire truth.
“Did you enjoy snogging Narcissa and Andromeda in public? Did you wish I was there to kiss as well?”
Bellatrix asked the question quietly, though she knew the whole group heard her. She didn’t quite keep the daggers out of her voice. She watched with delight as Hermione’s breathing turned rapid and shallow. Whether fear or arousal, there was no doubt that she was having an effect.
“You’ll find there are very few occasions that I do not wish to be kissing you, Bella. Had you been there, I would have happily made an even bigger scene,” Hermione said, recovering quickly.
“How was the reaction?”
Draco’s question was pointed clearly toward Andy.
“Curiosity mostly. Perhaps some intrigue. But they were largely respectful. I am sure that those that will gossip have more than enough fodder now. But then again, the announcement was quite prominent.”
“Of course it was. We are not embarrassed. If anything, we want the entire wizarding world to know that you are more than spoken for.”
Hermione found Narcissa’s tone beyond tropical. The blonde’s icy facade was, in fact, white-hot in the right circumstances. It had Hermione placing her hand on Narcissa’s leg beneath the table. She felt the tingle of the magic between them dancing over the skin on her hand.
“Please don’t tell me that we need to move up the ceremony,” Draco said dramatically.
“No,” Andromeda assured him. “We will use the date in the announcement. It is already a short enough timeline, and some plans can’t be so easily changed.”
“And what plans are those?”
“Nothing for you to worry about just yet, love,” Andy answered Hermione smoothly.
Hermione wanted to object, but Andy was incredibly attractive when she was proving exactly how grey the best-behaved Black sister could be. She wanted to fan herself like a dramatic southern woman, but then she caught Bellatrix’s eye, and there wasn’t enough oxygen on earth.
Harry cleared his throat rather loudly, which did seem to break the spell.
“What planning are you doing today, my dragon,” the chosen one said in a tone Hermione had rarely heard.
“Colors, magic, invitations must go out today, clothing,” Draco listed quickly.
“I will handle clothing,” Narcissa said in a tone that brokered no argument.
Hermione looked to Draco to see if he would object, but he nodded slowly instead.
“And I will handle the magic,” Bellatrix said with a half-full mouth.
Hermione marveled that even that she found attractive. She wanted to kick herself when the dark witch winked in response to her thoughts.
“I’ll be happy to amuse Miss Granger,” Andromeda offered glibly.
“You’ll do no such thing,” Bellatrix grunted. “You’ll work with him on the invitations. You know who must be invited. Harry and Hermione will be taking a relaxing day. Unless you object?”
The ordinarily fiery eyes were sweet and warm. Hermione nodded without entirely processing what had been said.
“Excellent. It will all be perfect, I promise you,” Draco said, beaming.
Hermione looked back at the Black sisters and couldn’t imagine why they thought the wedding or bonding or whatever they wanted to call it seemed so important when they were the prize. But she would let them do whatever it was the magic required.
The day with Harry had been an unexpected treat and perhaps far more planned than she had realized. He had taken her to a spa where she was treated to the most relaxing massage she had ever experienced. Then they lazily ate lunch in a small cafe and talked about everything and nothing at all. He was the closest thing she had to family. The time with him was as precious as any of the sisters, and she reveled in it.
He had delivered her safely home for an early evening of quiet. She was grateful for the reprieve. Her life had become so busy and full lately that she hadn’t had time to recover. But she was freshly showered and lounging with a book in front of a fireplace in the early evening. The comforting crackling and well-worn pages had put letters and beautiful women temporarily from her mind.
When her fireplace roared to life in green, she realized such peace would be short-lived. And when Bellatrix Black, in all her glory, stepped through, she wondered if she even liked peace.
“Good evening, Hermione,” she said smoothly as though she had been invited over.
“Hello, Bellatrix.”
Hermione stood and was swept into a tight embrace. The love and security communicated with the simple action were more than she had ever known in the sum of all her life together. She wondered how she would ever let go of the witch. She was grateful that they weren’t rushed, and Bella let it linger on.
“I thought you couldn’t be left alone with me,” she muttered into the riotous curls.
“I should not. But I also could not stay away. You call to me, no matter how many miles or rules stand between us.”
Hermione didn’t resist the urge to kiss her. She pressed herself tightly to the solid form of the witch and dedicated her entire being to kissing her. She felt Bellatrix melt for a moment before she realized, no doubt, and separated again.
“Let me make you a cup of tea in person for once.”
Hermione was somehow not surprised when Bellatrix walked directly to the kitchen as though she knew her flat. She considered that she might need to reevaluate her security. But then Bella looked enticingly over her shoulder, and Hermione decided she didn’t care about security.
And there was something entirely charming about the dark witch putting the kettle on. It was homey, and Hermione was confident it was a sight she could never tire of. She was enchanted with the way the witch waved her wand to conduct the tea and pot into place. It was the simplest everyday task, but it now seemed entirely sacred.
She sat and watched the routine from her kitchen table. She knew she would get caught looking, but she couldn’t be bothered to look away. The soft, nearly vulnerable look she got in return felt life-altering.
“Did you enjoy your day,” Bellatrix asked, clearly ready to change the conversation.
Hermione smiled at the memory of her day with Harry.
“It was extremely relaxing and was just what I needed.”
Bellatrix preened at the recognition that she had been right.
“I am very glad,” she said, with teacups in hand. She placed one slowly in front of Hermione.
When the dark witch looked up, she was so beautiful that Hermione couldn’t resist surging up and catching her lips in an urgent kiss. She trembled as Bellatrix clutched at her, kissing her almost too hard. It was everything she wanted.
When they separated, the dark witch was panting and had a wild look in her eyes. One that both scared and aroused Hermione.
“Drink your tea before it gets cold,” Bellatrix ordered.
Hermione lifted her cup to hide her smile. It was beyond clear that Bellatrix had ruled the roost her entire life. It was high time that someone came along and mixed things up. She reveled in the intense stare from the witch. She could feel her mental barriers being pushed against her, but she held them firm as she hadn’t in many years. It wasn’t that she had anything to keep from the witch. But she was delighting in being difficult. And the body language from the beautiful woman as she drank her tea was highly gratifying. She knew it was unlikely that she would win whatever sort of battle that they were engaged in. But she was sure that it would be a glorious and creative defeat.
Bella leaned back in her chair, looking relaxed, but Hermione suspected it was more affected than authentic.
“You should fear me more than you currently appear to,” the fake witch said casually.
Hermione raised her eyebrows but continued her luxurious sip of tea.
“I respect you, but I see no need to fear you.”
She could practically see Bellatrix huff.
“Perhaps I should teach you a lesson, witch,” she grumbled.
“What lesson would that be,” Hermione purred. She had started with the intention of just being playful, but she could tell that this was going somewhere interesting. She felt the magic wash over her and could taste it on her tongue. It made her desperately wish she was tasting something entirely different that belonged to the woman in front of her.
Bella had clearly cast an arousal spell. Hermione prodded gently at the edge of it. She could easily have broken free from it, but why would she do such a silly thing. Instead, she let the heat rise in her cheeks and breathed deeply in an attempt to preserve her calm. When she looked up, Bellatrix looked far too pleased with herself.
“Is that the best you’ve got?” She managed to get it out in a steady voice, but dammit, if her knickers weren’t already getting wet.
Bellatrix smirked, and she was certain that it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Fucking hell.
“It certainly is not my best. However, I suspect that you already know that. But the bonding magic is what it is. This will have to do for tonight. It looks like you’re getting a little uncomfortable. Why don’t we go through to the living room?”
Hermione wanted to object, but everything sounded so good coming out of the woman’s mouth at the moment. She could not find a reason to pretend that she didn’t want to know where this was going.
“I suspected that deep down, you might occasionally be cooperative.”
The slightly condescending tone of voice only seemed to make Hermione wetter.
“I would be happy to stop if you’d prefer?”
The hand low on her back was enough of an answer to keep moving in the direction Bellatrix wanted her to go. The dark witch stopped her in the middle of the room. She walked around her and rearranged Hermione’s favorite reading chair to face the couch. She sat down slowly.
Hermione watched each movement entirely transfixed and wished that Bella would move closer. She tugged at the collar of her shirt, which felt far too warm.
“Why don’t you get more comfortable. Feel free to unbutton that. No need to be hot.”
“Why don’t you unbutton it yourself?”
Hermione half hoped she would be able to taunt her into action.
“You have no idea how much I wish I could, love. But we both know that isn’t possible tonight. Why don’t you show me what you wish I would do. I can feel the need vibrating off of you.”
Hermione gulped at the gauntlet thrown by the beautiful witch. But as turned on as she was and because she had goaded the witch to this point, there was no way she was going to back down. She stared into the dark eyes that had so captivated her and slowly undid the buttons on her shirt, allowing it to fall open. She loved the moment that Bella could no longer resist looking down at the newly bared skin. She could practically feel the weight of her gaze.
But the opening of her shirt wasn’t enough to sate her or even help cool her. If anything, her skin felt even more feverish. The urge to shuck out of her jeans was too strong to resist. She unbuttoned them and pushed them down her legs before glancing at Bellatrix.
“Have a seat, Hermione.”
Her knees were bending before she processed that she was so immediately obeying. But she sat with splayed legs. If Bella wanted to play, Hermione was more than game.
“Is there something, in particular, you want to see, Bella?”
Hermione kept her tone as light and controlled as possible, which was a considerable challenge.
“Oh, little witch, there are a great number of things that I would like to see. Show me how you touch yourself. Think about me touching you.”
Hermione half swallowed a gasp. Hearing such a thing was even hotter than imagining someone saying it to her. She felt no shyness in front of the witch, and her desire was bubbling so close to the surface that she had no objection whatsoever about giving her future lover a show if she wanted one.
Hermione considered putting on a show, but she wanted her hand between her legs. She sucked in a deep breath as her fingertips touched sodden lace. The feeling of the lace being pressed into her wasn’t nearly enough. The teasing was very nearly unbearable. She could feel Bellatrix’s magic interacting more than before. It should be no surprise that it was more than a simple arousal spell. It was somehow compelling her movements. It didn’t feel precisely like she was being controlled, but Bella’s desires were melting into her own.
She uses her magic to make the pants from her body disappear and reappear in Bella’s hand. Normally she would have reveled in such a coup, but she was too transfixed on touching herself.
She did enjoy the groan from across the room, but only for a split second before she eased her finger gently inside herself. Her hips immediately provided a counterpoint, and any attempts at being quiet and stoic were left far behind.
“Yes, Hermione. Don’t you dare stop. You know I would be much rougher with you. Push harder,” Bellatrix said, finally finding her voice.
Hermione groaned and happily did as the witch said.
“Oh, Bellatrix. Please.”
“Please, what? Be a good witch now. Back up to your clit. You’re far too coherent.”
Hermione whimpered at the first touch to her swollen skin. She was sensitive, and it almost felt too good. She circled slowly and chanced a look up at the dark witch. The warmth of the dark eyes transfixed her and urged her on.
“Back inside now, but don’t cum until I tell you to.”
Hermione shuddered either at the penetration or the order.
“This is exactly how I like you, Hermione. Desperate and all mine. I may be destined to a life of sharing you, but don’t think for a moment that I am not possessive.”
Hermione found herself beyond language. She was feeling and magic and need. It was building faster than she could control. While she wasn’t touching her clit, it was as though it was being touched. She realized it was the dark witch’s magic. The thought alone nearly pushed her over the edge.
“Hermione, look at me.”
The younger witch fought her eyes open. She longed for the connection seeing the witch provided.
“Don’t stop, Hermione. Don’t look away.”
She did as she was told. It was hard, but she couldn’t disobey even if she wanted to.
“Marry me, Hermione. Spend the rest of our lives experimenting with magic and exploring each other.”
“Yes,” Hermione gasped.
“Cum for me, witch,”
Hermione let go. As her eyes slammed shut, she still saw the silhouette of the mysterious, compelling witch on the back of her eyelids as the climax roared through her.