Chapter Text
HERMIONE
Then she feels something wet on her cheeks, and at first she doesn’t understand what it is, but Narcissa does right away apparently, because she pulls back from her. Hermione kind of follows her movement a little, reluctant to stop kissing Narcissa just yet, but the older woman grasps her shoulders and pulls her back a little, so they are an arms length apart.
Hermione’s forehead furrows in confusion at first, but then she sees the mild smile on the white and black haired woman’s lips. And that kind of confuses her even further. What’s going on? Then something wet touches her upper lip, and she licks at the feeling, tasting salt that can’t come from anything but tears. She is crying. Why is she crying?
“Hermione,” Narcissa says in a low, soft voice, “What has caused you this sadness?”
“I-” she began, but was still feeling confused, “-I don’t know?”
“Come on, you are smarter than that Miss Brightest-of-her-age,” humor glinted in her blue eyes telling her this was not meant harshly.
“I…” she said slowly, really thinking about her answer, “I might be slightly overwhelmed?”
“By what, darling? This?” she gestured between them.
“No!” came out slightly too quickly, and she could feel her cheeks burn, “I’m just… I think I am tired? Confused about all that with my boss.”
“Let’s get to bed then, shall we?” she stood slowly, the movement almost liquid-like, as she held her hand out for Hermione to take.
“Yes?” she replied unsurely, but took Narcissa’s hand with her slightly clammy one, her heart beating almost too quickly in her chest. She can’t stop herself from pulling the older woman back towards her, and kissing her on the lips again.
And that’s when Draco entered the room seemingly not in any hurry, but already talking even before he entered the room, so the sentence came out weirdly like, “-here, mother?”
Narcissa jumped back from Hermione as if burned, and he halted in his steps, as he looked from his mother to his friend.
“And here I thought we could have a chat about something in private, but apparently she is already here,” he began thundering, not so unlike his father.
“Draco, if you-” Narcissa began, and was waved in the face with the front page of The Daily Prophet.
Then he pointed harshly at Hermione, and began attacking her verbally, “And you ! Of all people you could be fucking, you chose my mother? What kind of a friend are you? Are you even my friend, or was it just to get close to her ?” He pointed towards his mother, making his opinion clear.
“It’s not like that, Draco, I-” Narcissa began again, softly, but was interrupted by an equally thundering Hermione Granger.
“How can you even say that?!” Hermione all but growled at him, staring at him like he was someone she used to know, but didn’t recognize anymore, “How can you think that about me? I was your friend when nobody else trusted you!”
A short, staccato “Ha!” fell from his lips, even if it was clear it wasn’t a haha-funny-ha, “You are one to talk. You say you are my friend, but then you are getting it on with my mom behind my back? What kind of friend does that ?!”
“Girls, girls you are both pretty!” Narcissa said almost calmly, making it clear how ridiculous she found this conversation, more less this argument. That made Hermione quiet down, looking thoughtfully at her… what? Girlfriend?
“So it’s like that. You are taking her side?” Draco’s voice was quiet, almost childlike.
“Draco, I am not picking sides or favorites. Don’t you see how ridiculous this argument is? Nobody chose this. It just happened. And if anything, I went after her, not the other way around!” The older woman’s frustration with all of this came out, and she blew at some hair that had fallen into her face.
“I don’t even recognize you anymore,” he then said in a quiet voice, even if his eyes were blazing with anger.
He didn’t exactly sound hurt, but then again, when had he ever shown that kind of emotion freely ? Hermione though.
“That’s life Draco. People change, but what will never change is that I love you. Even if I happen to love Hermione too. What you are saying is that you don’t want me to be happy? I have been miserable since the war, and finally found something near happiness, and you want me to not have that?” Narcissa sounded hurt though.
“Not with her! Not with someone my age!” he yelled back.
Hermione kinda just existed in the room, watching them like a ping pong match.
“I’m sorry Draco, and I don’t love you any less, but I am not sure what to say now. I have explained or I have tried at least. And I didn’t want you to know about us like this, of course I didn’t but-” She was interrupted by Draco thundering.
“Then don’t kiss in front of a fucking window!”
Narcissa’s voice had grown dangerously low, as she replied, “So… the real problem is, that you are ashamed of me?”
“Don’t you even hear yourself? You are choosing to be partners or whatever with MY friend, a girl MY age! How do you think that makes me feel? That you are choosing a girl over dad?” Draco sounded close to tears.
“We don’t choose who we love, Draco. Now leave my house. Right. Now,” her voice was almost venomous as she said that, dripping with the poison that had poisoned their relationship.
“Narcissa don’t you think that-” The older woman held her hand up, stopping Hermione from speaking any further.
“Leave Draco. I love you, but I won’t tolerate this kind of homophobia in my life, least of all from you,” with that said Narcissa turned her back towards Draco, and turned towards Hermione instead looking utterly exhausted.
Hermione opened her arms for the woman to step into, but the woman instead walked past her. Tilting her head slightly to one side she looked after her with a worried expression on her face. What had happened? Then she felt something thrown at her face, and grasped at the material finding paper. She was standing with the Daily Prophet in her hands, and an angry Draco looking at her. And then he slapped her across the face.
She cradled her cheek in her hand, tears stinging in her eyes.
That sound had apparently made Narcissa turn around again, and she looked at her son with eyes burning with something, not hatred as such, but had a fireball burning in the palm of her hand.
“Don’t ever do that again,” she thundered in a low voice, pointing at him with a threatening finger. Then she crushed it though with her fingers, strangling it, and then waved her other hand. Draco disappeared in a cloud of black smoke.
“Narcissa?” Hermione said with a voice that broke halfway through the name, and desperately reached out for comfort.
The older woman gave that freely, transferring herself to Hermione’s side and closing her arms around the younger woman, whispering words and sentences that the brunette’s ears couldn’t pick up on.
“What are we gonna do?” she hiccupped from the sobbing.
“I don’t know, Hermione. I really don’t know,” the older woman whispered into her hair.