Work Text:
Hermione stumbles out of the fireplace, wheezing slightly as she chokes out a lungful of soot. She searches the room frantically, eyes landing on Ron, standing with his mouth open.
“Why are you in your pyjamas?” he greets her, gesturing to the small shorts, vest top and slippers she is wearing.
She glances down at her attire self-consciously, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Your patronus said it was an emergency,” she replies indignantly, looking around the living room for any clue as to why her presence has been requested. “What’s going on, Ron?”
He shuffles his feet against the wooden floor, not meeting her eyes. “We needed to talk. I didn’t know if you would come.”
“So you lied to me?”
“You keep ignoring me!” Ron defends, taking a step closer.
Hermione takes a step back to match his, keeping her distance. There is something about the desperate look in his eye, that spells trouble. “Because we keep going over the same old ground. I can’t keep doing this with you.”
“You know we belong together, ‘Mione.”
Hermione sighs, more than a little unhappy that this is why she has been summoned from her bed before 10 am, on the first Saturday she’s had off in months. “I don’t want to be with you, and you know this. We’ve talked about this,” she reminds him, as gently as she can.
She watches as he slumps down onto the sofa, patting the cushion next to him. She ignores his invitation, perching on the edge of the armchair near the fireplace instead. The last thing she wants is to waste precious time here, on her day off.
He frowns at her choice of seat. “You’re just scared. The war changed us all, I know, but you don’t have to live a life in fear anymore. You have nothing to be afraid of.”
Frustrated at having to repeat herself, Hermione rolls her eyes. “I’m not interested. At all. I just don’t see you that way, I’m sorry.”
“But… but you kissed me!”
It’s too early for firewhisky, to her dismay, but she wandlessly summons them both tea and settles back in the armchair, bracing herself for the rest of the conversation. Maybe it’s time to be brutal with the truth? Maybe, just maybe, she can finally tell him the real reason why she will never want to be more than his friend. Steeling herself, she leads into it carefully.
“It should never have happened, Ron. You were one of my best friends and I guess maybe I wanted it to be true. Harry had Ginny, and it made sense in a strange kind of way for me and you to be together, but then we kissed, and I knew.” Hermione takes a deep breath, watching the forlorn wizard in front of her play with his teacup. “I knew I could never desire you in that way.”
“We were in the middle of a damned battle, Hermione. You never gave me a chance to show you how I could make you feel. We’re meant to be together.”
Hermione shakes her head adamantly, and knows that the moment has come. “Trust me, we’re really not. I don’t… urgh… why is this so hard? Ronald Weasley, I don’t like wizards.”
The redhead jumps to his feet. “That’s ridiculous! You fought a war to bring equality back to the wizarding world, and now you will only marry a muggle?”
“That’s not what I mea-”
He interrupts her, and her eyes flick to his shaky hand as he raises his wand, levelling it at her. “You know what, ‘Mione? I didn’t want it to come to this, but you’re forcing my hand.”
“What? Ron, what are you doing?”
He shrugs, his eyes filled with desperation and something dangerous that she doesn’t recognise in him. “It’s not a love spell, I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“What are you doing?” she repeats unsteadily, not daring to stand up and startle him into action.
“Verus Amor. It’s a spell I learned when I was travelling through Romania. It just helps someone open up and embrace their true love. It takes away your fear and makes you bold.”
Hermione giggles hysterically. “That’s ridiculous.”
“No it’s not. The spell is infallible, Mione. It’s been around for hundreds of years.”
“Not that,” Hermione corrects him, still laughing nervously. “It’s ridiculous that you think that this spell will ever lead me to you.”
“It will,” Ron replies, but there is doubt in his tone and his eyes lose a bit of their fire. He raises his chin, and jabs the wand in her direction. “You’ll see.”
“Ron? Please…” Hermione trails off, not knowing what she can possibly say that he hasn’t already heard a thousand times over.
He determinedly rattles off an incantation, moving his wand in practiced movements. She doesn’t recognise anything, but the words are undeniably Latin. Her ears pick up a strange hum, a quiet buzzing and she feels a pull in her chest. A pull that forces her to her feet, and over to the front door, a wide smile on her face.
“Where… Hermione?”
Hermione wants to dance and spin in circles, staring up at the sky and losing herself in all the wonderful things this universe has to offer. Instead, she reaches for the handle, turning back to face Ron, and openly laughing at the confusion on his face.
“It’s been nice catching up with you, Ron, but I have to go now.”
“Where… where are you going?”
Hermione smirks wickedly, her whole body is buzzing now and it’s an effort to remain in the room. “To see Bellatrix, of course.”
The man stares at his wand as if it has betrayed him, throwing it angrily onto the sofa. “But she’s a wit-”
“Witch?” Hermione interrupts, bopping her head up and down, and then sighing. “And what a witch she is. So brave, the smartest person I know and Merlin’s beard, have you ever seen anyone more gorgeous? I mean, that witch is smoking hot!”
The last thing she sees as she slips out into the morning air, is Ron’s face, jaw dropped open in absolute shock. She giggles, closing the door behind her and the moment she is clear of the wards, she Disapparates.
*****
Andy feels the familiar tingle of someone outside Black Manor, disturbing the wards, and calls out for her sister. “Cissy? Are you expecting anyone?”
The blonde walks into the sitting room, shaking her head. “No. Maybe Bella is? She’s bathing right now, probably day dreaming about a certain little witch we both know she’s got her eye on.”
“Stop teasing her. She’ll make a move when she’s ready.”
Narcissa ignores her in favour of gracefully sinking into her favourite armchair, and picking up the book she is part way through. Her head is ducked, but she’s smirking, and Andy doubts she will stop winding up their sister any time soon.
Andy heads to the window, peering through the drapes that hang there. A small, instantly recognisable witch is standing by the gate and she hastens to the door to let her in. She walks down the path, calling out to her friend.
“Hermione? You must be freezing, love.”
“Andy? I forgot you lived here now.”
Andy opens the gate and lets the younger witch in, hurrying them back to the warmth of the manor. She gently pushes the young woman through the door and leads her to the sitting room.
“Merlin’s beard,” Narcissa greets her, giving her a long look up and down, while Hermione twitches under the scrutiny. “Why are you in your pyjamas?”
“I needed to see Bella. Is she here?” Hermione replies, as though turning up at someone’s home in your sleepwear is the most natural thing in the world.
“Are you quite alright?” Narcissa asks, a little more gently.
Hermione smiles widely, her eyes a little too bright to be natural. “Oh, yes. I’m perfect, thank you. I had a little incident with Ron and now I’m here to tell Bellatrix how I feel about her.”
Andy snorts. “Right. Well that explains everything then. Wait here,” she instructs, turning and heading out of the room. She reaches the bathroom, and shouts though the door. “Bellatrix Black, get your arse out here, right now. You’ve got company.”
“I’m naked,” the older witch replies grumpily from inside the room.
“Wrap a damn towel around yourself and get out here. Now!”
Andy doesn’t wait for a reply, turning on her heel and heading back to where Hermione is now sitting on the sofa, waiting expectantly. She ignores the pang of hurt she feels when the witch looks disappointed that she has returned alone. “Bella’s on her way,” she reassures the woman.
Hermione brightens immediately, a smile forming back on her face as she tries to peer behind Andy from her place on the sofa. Andy moves to the other armchair, bemused but also concerned by the expression on her face. She hears the woman gasp and turns to see her older sister standing in the shortest towel she’s ever seen.
*****
Bellatrix watches with amusement as the younger witch hungrily devours the sight on offer, eyes trailing heatedly over every inch of skin she has on display. A soft gasp slips through Hermione’s lips.
“Hermione?” Bellatrix queries, as the young woman blushes and shakes her head, biting her lip. “What are you doing here?”
Hermione looks up, a blinding smile radiating from her face. “Merlin, but you are stunning, Bella. What I wouldn’t do to have the chance of removing that towel.”
To her side, Bellatrix hears Andy laugh, and turns, with an eyebrow raised. “What is going on?”
“Don’t look at us,” the middle Black sister defends, holding her hands up. “She was like that when she got here.”
“I believe she mentioned an incident with the Weasley boy, and appears to be under some kind of spell,” Narcissa adds thoughtfully. “She seems compelled to speak her every thought when it comes to you, Bella.”
Bellatrix turns back to face the young witch on the sofa. “What did that maggot do to you?” she growls.
Hermione flinches at her tone, and the woman softens, sitting down next to her and taking her hand. “Did he curse you?”
“He thought I was scared of loving him. I tried to tell him I don’t like wizards, but he got angry and hit me with a spell. I don’t know what it was,” Hermione replies remorsefully, evidently upset that she is unable to give the witch the answer to her question.
“It’s ok. We just need to know what he did. Can you remember the incantation?”
Hermione wrinkles her brow, biting her lip again; deep in thought. “He told me it was ‘Verus Amor’ I think. True love?”
Naricssa leans forwards. “Virtus in facie veri amoris. Was that the incantation he used?”
Hermione nods silently, looking between the three sisters.
“What is it, Cissy?” Bellatrix asks.
“Bravery in the face of true love,” her sister replies. “It’s not as reprehensible as a love spell. It doesn’t make you feel things that you don’t, but you are compelled to seek out the one you love, and open yourself to them and the love you share. To put it plainly, it removes inhibitions.”
“The one you love,” Bellatrix repeats slowly, a grin slowly forming on her face. “Hermione Granger, are you in love with me?”
“I’m sorry,” Hermione blurts out, hiding her face in her hands.
“Bella, don’t be mean. Tell the woman how you bloody feel,” Andy scolds her, rolling her eyes.
Hermione looks up hopefully, and Bellatrix melts when amber eyes meet her own, an understanding passing between them that almost negates the need for words. Almost.
“Hermione, darling. How could I not love you?”
“Really?”
Bellatrix pulls one of her hands up to her lips, kissing her knuckles softly. “Yes. Now, there is only one way to remove this spell, pet. Are you ready?”
“What do I need to do?” Hermione asks resolutely, straightening her shoulders and meeting the older witch’s gaze with determination.
“Sleep with me,” Bellatrix replies with a straight face.
Andy cackles as Hermione’s face goes slack with shock. Narcissa tuts loudly, leaning forwards to snap her fingers in front of the younger witch. “Hermione? Hermione? Merlin, Bella. I think you’ve broken the woman.”
Bellatrix lets out a loud laugh, pulling Hermione into a side hug. “I’m sorry, I was just joking.”
“Bellatrix Black, if you think you can handle me, take me to your room right now and prove it,” Hermione replies, with a smirk, finally recovering her faculties.
“Not while you’re under a spell, pet. Do I have your permission to use my wand on you?”
Hermione grins mischievously. “Is that a euphemism?”
“I think you’ve met your match, Bella,” Andy remarks with a chuckle, heading towards the door. “Come on, Cissy. I think there are other places we should be right now. Have fun, you two. Be good… or not!”
“Please don’t have sex on my new couch,” Narcissa pleads as she gets up to join Andy. “Take her to your bedroom, if you must.”
Both witches ignore her, staring deeply into each others eyes. Bellatrix clears her throat. “I really want to kiss you, but not while you’re not in complete control. May I use my wand on you?”
Hermione nods, and Bellatrix points her wand; the warmth and love shining from her eyes is a far cry from the last person who had used their wand on her. Ron’s eyes had been desperate, but underneath that she could see his anger at her refusal. Bellatrix’s eyes could not not be more different, and Hermione feels like she has finally found her place in the world. The older woman swishes her wand in a cross-like motion. “Finite incantatem.”
Bellatrix watches as understanding and then embarrassment washes over the Gryffindor witch, leaning forwards to cup her cheek. “Before you start spiralling, pet, remember this is not one sided. I have wanted you for a very long time. I just never thought you would ever return my feelings.”
“How could I not want you, Bella? I just never thought someone like you could ever want someone like me. You’re a hero and you ended the war. You’re so beautiful. You’re funny, kind hearted and smart.”
“I also tortured you,” Bellatrix reminds her honestly, shivering as the memory flashes through her mind.
“You protected me as much as you could. I forgave you for that as soon as I found out whose side you were really on. You were so brave.”
“Says the witch who went off chasing Horcruxes all over the country.”
“Whatever.” Hermine shrugs, and with one graceful movement she launches herself into Bellatrix’s lap, straddling her knees. “I guess I can be brave too.”
“You know, I don’t think that this is what the Weasley boy intended when he cast that spell. I don’t know whether to hex him or send him a gift basket.”
Hermione giggles. “We can hex him later, but for now we have more important matters to attend to.”
The older witch raises an eyebrow inquisitively. “And what would that be, pet?”
“Kiss me.”
Bellatrix tugs the younger woman closer, cupping her cheek and drawing her face nearer, finally claiming soft pink lips with her own, sighing into the kiss that she has waited so long for. It’s everything she’s ever dreamt of and more, and she knows immediately that one kiss will never be enough. “Hermione, do you… I mean, would you want to-”
“Take me to bed, Bella.”
She wastes no time Disapparating them both, landing on her bed with a soft plop, the younger woman still in her lap. Suddenly shy for reasons she is unsure of, she pulls the woman back into a kiss to calm her nerves. After all these years of wanting and waiting, it feels unreal to finally have the witch in her arms. She rolls them over in one swift move, the sound of Hermione giggling almost setting her heart on fire.
“Are you sure you want this?” she checks, looking down at her relaxed face.
“Yes. I’m not some young virgin, Bella. You don’t need to be so careful, I promise. You won’t break me.”
The dark witch chuckles. “Be careful what you wish for, pet.”
*****
Hermione flips them over swiftly, pinning the older woman to the bed. “What I wish is to have you pleading and begging me to let you come,” she murmurs, pushing herself up and moving so she is straddling the witch again. She takes a moment to admire the body underneath hers, pushing the already undone towel apart, so she can take in the beautiful witch laying between her thighs. “You are perfect,” she sighs, reaching out and tracing soft fingertips along delicate collar bones.
She relishes in the older woman’s shiver, and bends forwards to press lips against the still slightly damp skin, sucking the flesh until it marks. Hermione leans back with a satisfied grin on her face, before hopping off the bed and toeing off her slippers, meeting Bellatrix’s amused gaze.
“What?” she asks.
“Why do you have unicorns on your feet?”
“They’re comfy. I didn’t exactly have time to change.”
“They’re covered in rainbows.” Bellatrix snorts. “As are your shorts and vest.”
“They’re cute,” Hermione defends, crossing her arms.
“I’d rather see you without them.”
Hermione smirks, knowing she is being goaded, but she cares very little about this fact. She has a suspicion that Bellatrix feels the need to be gentle with her, and maybe seeing her without her clothes will dispel the notion that she is still pure in any way. Her hands grip the bottom of her vest, inching it up slowly as the witch in the bed watches, riveted by the motion. She pulls it up further, revealing the tattoo she has; a raven in flight, splayed across her ribs.
“It’s beautiful, Hermione. My-”
“Your animagus is a raven?” Hermione asks, smiling. “I know.”
“How long?”
“How long have I had feelings for you?” Hermione checks, immediately understanding the question. “Since the first time I saw you at an Order meeting, a couple of weeks before the final battle.”
Bellatrix doesn’t reply, watching as Hermione removes the vest entirely and then drops her shorts. Without any preamble, she steps out of them and leaves them on the floor as she climbs back on the bed.
Hermione lowers her body back over the witch’s cooling skin, moaning as they mould together. She leans in, capturing plump lips in a deep kiss, their tongues meeting as they explore each other’s mouths. She slides her body to the left, so she can run her hand over creamy skin, brushing a thumb over an already stiffened peak. Dipping her head, she takes the bud into her mouth, running her tongue around it as Bellatrix squirms underneath her.
“Merlin, Bella. You’re exquisite.”
The older witch makes a noise she can’t quite discern and she grins against the woman’s skin, kissing goose bumped flesh as she takes a path down over her ribs, her tongue tracing each rib, and smirking when she manages to pull a soft moan from parted lips.
She reaches trimmed curls and flicks her eyes upwards, receiving a nod in return that prompts her to continue her exploration. Hermione takes in a deep breath, the woman’s scent making her mouth water as she finally dips her head lower, and takes her first taste. The flavour that bursts over her tongue and coats her lips, nearly sends her over the edge. She listens smugly as Bellatrix gasps, hands coming down to tangle into her hair, gripping tightly. but not hurting her.
Slipping her tongue between glistening lips, she gathers the desire that has collected there, swallowing the precious nectar greedily. Her arms spread the woman’s legs even wider, as her tongue finds her entrance, teasing with a little pressure until Bellatrix is writhing above her.
“Please, Hermione. I need you.”
Taking pity on the witch, she replaces her tongue with two and then three fingers, sinking into slick heat and thrusting deeply in slow, steady strokes. Mesmerised, she watches Bellatrix’s back arching off of the bed and quickly drops her head, finding her swollen clit with ease and sucking it between her lips, tongue circling slowly in time with her thrusts.
“Oh… Oh! Hermione,” Bellatrix pants, hands tightening in her unruly hair. “What are you doing to me?”
“Making you come, hopefully.” Hermione pulls back to quip, but immediately hones in on the woman’s bundle of nerves again. She increases her speed, fingers curling inside and rubbing where she knows she is needed most.
“Hermione! Oh, fuck.”
A feeling of satisfaction spreads through Hermione as she feels the tell-tale tightening around her fingers, Bellatrix clenching abruptly as an orgasm races through her. Hermione slows her movements, milking every last drop of pleasure from the woman, until she is breathless and boneless on the bed, a light sheen of sweat on her skin.
She withdraws her fingers slowly, and crawls back up the bed, hovering above the dark haired beauty, a shy smile on her face.
“You weren’t kidding, were you, pet?” Bellatrix puffs out. “Definitely not a virgin, though I’m not sure I like thinking about whoever the hell taught you how to do that.”
“It doesn’t matter about before,” Hermione replies softly, lowering her body down and snuggling into her side. “I am yours now, Bella, forever more. I belong to you, if you’ll have me.”
“There is nothing I want more,” Bellatrix reassures her, pulling their bodies more closely together. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Bellatrix lets out a deep, slow breath. “Two minutes, and then you’re all mine.”
Hermione shakes her head, eyes gleaming with mischief. “I think you can handle at least one more.”
“You’re gonna be the death of me, pet.”
“But what a way to go, right?” Hermione jokes, fingers pinching the flesh under her hand.
In a rush of strength that defies gravity, Hermione finds herself pinned under the older witch, who is grinning down at her. “It’s my turn now. You can attempt to murder me with orgasms later.”
“Do your worst,” Hermione teases.
Bellatrix doesn’t answer, claiming her lips possessively until they are swollen and her head is spinning. She giggles, staring up at the woman, who is looking back down at her smugly.
“Remember you said that.”