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The first time they talk after the war, is in Hermione’s study at the Ministry of Magic - she worked here for the past two years and Mrs Black, ex Mrs Malfoy needs someone to show her the place for she just became an Unspeakable. The conversation is polite but nothing more - Hermione tries to put the past behind and so does Narcissa. They do not speak about the war. After that first meeting, interactions remain polite - “good morning“ and “goodnight“ everyday, nothing more.
Hermione tries not to pay attention to her, but it is complex. She has obsessive tendencies, not in the sense of a stalker, but her attention tends to focus strongly on one thing during a certain period of time - it can be an author, a music, a hobby or sometimes a person. She attempts at fighting it, because Mrs Black is no person to obsess about, but, even if she denies it effectively, she succumbs to the obsession. She looks for Mrs Black in corridors, in restaurants around the Ministry, in the streets and she does find her, she looks, she analyzes everything that crosses her eyes. She discovers the ex Malfoy matriarch’s habits, focuses on her tastes. She goes as far as following her in a lofty muggle bar - muggle, she wonders about it, about why.
Narcissa Black is sitting at a table in the corner, looking at her glass of red wine, making the liquid sway in the dim light of the bar. Hermione is as discreet as she manages when she chooses a distant table that still enables her to detail the other witch. She asks the waiter for a glass of whatever the blond middle-aged woman in the back is having and she is served with a very expensive glass of Saint-Emilion. She does not know if she likes red wine but she wants to know Narcissa Black, in her way. She tastes the wine with the tip of her lips while she ponders over what exactly she is doing here. She should hate Mrs Black, she wants to hate her so much it almost chokes her, but she is fascinated and she loathes it.
Hermione is the first person to claim that what happened during the war has to be taken into account with a grain of salt, but when it comes to what happened to her in the Malfoy Manor, she is less understanding and she hates herself for it. She wants to be the war hero everybody thinks she is, she wishes she could live up to the image people made of her - however, she is full of anger, she is not lenient and she is quite obsessive. She takes a glance at Narcissa Black and seems to realize, suddenly, that she should not be here, that she has not right of doing what she does. She hastily leaves money and the table and flees the bar without even finishing her glass. She does not like the person she became - the woman who goes to a bar she does not know just to observe someone else.
Hermione goes back to her everyday life, to what she knows and pushes away her will, her need of knowing Narcissa Black. She drowns herself in work - that is her way of coping. It is not healthy and she knows it, but how the hell is she supposed to fill the void inside her body, to calm the storm that rages there - she feels she is at war with herself all the time, but the war is supposed to be over. She watches her friends move on and she is delighted for them - well, she wants to be, at least, but deep inside she sort of hates them all and she becomes terribly jealous, which is harder and harder to hide behind pretty smiles.
In the depth of night, Hermione sometimes wishes she was dead in the war and other times she thinks about yelling at every single person who praises her for what she did. What did she do during the war ? She slept in a tent to find objects that were important in the eyes of Voldemort, she supported Harry, she kissed Ron. She forgot herself and now she cannot seem to find herself back.
In the depth of night, Hermione wants to scream - that is how she finds herself apparating in the Forbidden Forest. She walks and walks and walks deep, so deep inside the forest she is not sure she will find her way back. She does not really think. Rain starts pouring and soon the wind blows so heavily she feels it cut her skin - she cannot bring herself to care. She is walking and suddenly she stops and falls on her knees. Tears mix with raindrops and she screams. She is nothing but incoherent now and she feels pathetic, but she keeps screaming nonetheless, again and again for what seems like hours. She wants to take the pain out, she screams the pain out but when she slowly stops, the pain remains and she still feels empty. She wonders briefly - how she can feel so empty but be so full of hatred ? She is here, on the cold, damp ground, in the forest and she feels even angrier than before because when she closes her eyes, it is Narcissa Black she sees, in all her glory.
Hermione once again goes back to her usual life but she feels more furious every day - she wants to hurt people, Harry, Ginny, Ronald and every one of them who seem to feel so good when she feels so bad. She wants to hurt Narcissa, too, but not in the same way. She has so much hate in her she does not what to do with it - if she is totally honest, she knows she does not hate Harry, Ginny and Ronald, not even Narcissa - she hates herself but she refuses to acknowledge it, so she tries to take her anger out on other people. It is easier that way, but it does not make her feel better.
She has all these feelings and she does not know what to do with them, so she goes back to the lofty muggle bar, because obsessing and observing are easy while dealing with feelings is not.
This time, she asks for coffee, sits at the same table and watches Narcissa from afar. Watching her is like applying balm on her cuts - it soothes her in a way she refuses to ponder over. Narcissa wears a long emerald silk dress and a set of emerald and white gold hearings and necklace. On her wrist hangs a tiny silver chain and a small watch. Her hair is straightened and so blond and shiny it seems made of ice. Her eyes are sublimated by a black line, some mascara and a light silver eyeshadow, while her lips are a deep shade of red. Hermione stares at her lips longer than necessary - she hates it but she wants to take the lipstick of her lips with her own. She is lost in the contemplation, so lost that for a moment she does not think about anything else, so lost that she does not even see that Narcissa is staring back at her, with one eyebrow arched up.
Hermione wants to stand up and - and she does not know what she wants to do with Narcissa Black, maybe punch her, maybe kiss her, maybe both. But before she has time to figure that out or to actually act, Narcissa rises and without looking at her, she goes straight out of the bar, leaving an empty red wine glass on the table. Hermione does not hesitate, she leaves money on the table and goes after the older woman. She steps out of the bar and glances on her right, then on her left and there she is - leaning back on the wall, a cigarette between her red lips, Narcissa Black in all her glory. Hermione wonders for a second about the cigarette - why smoking ? She can admit there is a certain elegance to it, maybe even something alluring, but it is death on a stick nonetheless.
“It allows a slow death, something I think is the perfect retribution for what I did“
The words are harsh and break through Hermione’s thoughts. She does not know what to say or how to react so she just stares. She has no idea what she is doing here, in front of a muggle bar, following the ex wife of a Death Eater - but if she is honest, she has to admit she knows exactly what she is doing here.
“Would you care to tell me what you are doing here Miss Granger ?“
Hermione wants to tell her that she has no idea, she wants to go back inside the bar or to go home without answering the woman in front of her. But a part of her also wants to stay right here or to follow the woman wherever she goes. She wants to do everything and its opposite but she does nothing, at all. Narcissa is still looking at her with an eyebrow arched, just like the first time in the bar.
“Are you angry at me Miss Granger ? Is that why you are following me ?“
Hermione wants her to shut up, she just wants to stare at her, stare until she finally feels something - she says nothing. Narcissa exhales the smoke of her cigarette, takes one long last drag and crushes the cigarette end in the ashtray behind her.
“If you plan on remaining that talkative for the rest of the evening, I might as well go home. I am sure you can entertain yourself alone“. She turns her heels and is about to walk away - Hermione cannot bear that, she just cannot so she grabs Narcissa’s arm and makes her spin to face her “wait“. She wants to add please, because she is polite, but she does not. This time, Narcissa has her two eyebrows arched and the tiniest trace of surprise lights her eyes before she regains countenance.
“So now you have something to say ? And what, prey tell, could that be ? Hm“ and she mimics the air of deep thinking. Hermione is so angry at her she wants to hurt her, but she still wants to kiss her, too.
“My my Hermione Granger, has the cat got your tongue ?“. Hermione’s eyes widen at the image of Narcissa Black, holding her tongue in her mouth and the other woman seems to notice it, judging by the smirk playing on her lips. “Or maybe you want me to get your tongue ? I could do that“, the smirk becomes even more playful and Hermione wants to make it disappear.
She takes a step toward Narcissa, her hand still on the other woman’s arm and she whispers “And what if I do ?“.
Narcissa does not move, but she whispers back “then you will have to come and get me“ and that very sentence sets Hermione on motions - she takes a step further and she is so close she can smell the cherry flavor of her cigarette in the blond’s breath.
She hates the smirk on Narcissa’s lips, but she loves it at the same time and suddenly the only possible action seems to kiss it off and so she does. She does not ask for permission - the last sentence of the blond is an invitation enough. Hermione has never kissed a girl, not even for experimentation but that is none of her concern at the moment - she pushes her lips on Narcissa’s, hard, and then harder. She pushes and she moves her lips - she is not careful, she is not tender and she soon worries Narcissa’s bottom lips with her teeth. She bites, hard enough to draw a bit of blood and then she soothes with her tongue. She wonders about the person she is right now - a person who bites in a kiss - and she does not recognize herself. But Narcissa pushes back and inserts her tongue in Hermione’s mouth. It is wet and hard but so good Hermione cannot think of anything else than that tongue in her mouth and what it does to her - her legs feel weak and her head spins a little, but it feels so good she would not stop for anything in the world.
Her own tongue presses against the other on its own volition, it seems and they battle until she cannot breath and has to step back - truth be told, she just takes her tongue back in her mouth and bites the tip of Narcissa’s when she does the same. She feels better than she had in months and she wants this, whatever it is, to continue. She looks, maybe a bit desperately, at Narcissa, waiting for her to say something, to act for the both of them and so Narcissa does. She thrusts Hermione on the wall behind her, sliding one of her thin legs in between Hermione’s. Her lips are soft on her neck, tracing a line which ends just at the spot between her shoulder and her neck - Narcissa bites hard, as hard as Hermione had done and it feels dirty to love this kind of pain so much.
Maybe she is dirty after all - she is about to be taken by a woman she should hate. But she is far too gone in this to go back. Her whole neck feels like fire under Narcissa’s lips and teeth and she feels liquid arousal pulls in her veins. It takes Narcissa’s hard grip on her hips to realize they were pushing against the older witch’s thigh - she feels a bit of shame for acting like that, for wanting that and she is suddenly very self-conscious.
What is she, the golden girl, doing here ? She closes her eyes and she can sense all her feelings coming back fast - she does not want to feel so she grabs Narcissa’s face in both her hands and she kisses her like she wants to bruise her lips. Maybe she does. The blond responds in earnest, the grip on her hips tightening to the limit of pain and Hermione wishes she would crush her, crush everything she might ever feel. She becomes slowly lost again in the feeling of Narcissa’s tongue and teeth when the other quietly steps back - not what Hermione did earlier. Narcissa took a real step back and all at once there is no more thigh between her legs, hands on her hips or tongue in her mouth. Hermione wants to protest but she refuses to appear needy so she says nothing and does not look at the blond.
“it is quite the show you put up here Miss Granger. I have to admit I did not expect it but I am delighted, really“ and the end of that word sounds like sarcasm but arousal at the same time so Hermione lifts her eyes to meet Narcissa’s - they are so dark the usual pale blue is navy. “As much as I like what we were doing, maybe you would be so kind as to indulge me in a less public place“.
Hermione wants to tell her to fuck off, she really does, but she needs to stop feeling the anger that is coming back and the only thing that has worked so far is Narcissa’s tongue in her mouth, her hands on her, her leg between hers - she licks her lips, following the blond’s eyes on her and she slowly nods.
She knows Narcissa does not live in the Malfoy Manor anymore, she lives near muggle London in a townhouse - Hermione could apparate them there but it would be admitting that she followed Narcissa and she is not ready for that so, with as much sarcasm as she can, between a whisper and a hiss, she says“ well if Mrs Black would considerate apparating us in her chambers, I could do something to take off that smirk she seems to like so much“.
The blond’s smirk becomes even more teasing when she puts her hand on Hermione’s arm - Hermione senses the usual feeling behind her navel, dragging her in what she hopes are Narcissa’s chambers. She sets foot on what appears to be a very soft carpet but that sensation is put to the back of her mind as soon as Narcissa’s hand tightens on her arm and flushes her against her body. Hermione feels hot - wet between her legs and dry in the mouth. She looks at the blond like she wants to eat her alive, like she wants to kill her with pleasure - maybe she wants. And Narcissa answers with the same gaze.
“You said something about taking that smirk you seem to loathe off my mouth dear, was that only a threat or are you actually going to act ?“.
The older witch is right, Hermione loathes that smirk so she kisses it off. She feels her cheeks reddening as the kiss deepens and thinks about Narcissa’s so pale skin - she is fire and the blond is ice. That almost makes Hermione angry again - almost, she thinks, because she is not really angry right now, but really aroused.
She wonders, while Narcissa’s tongue battles with her own, if she could take that anger out on the blond, if she could use her to externalize her wrath - she pictures Narcissa begging for her and refusing to give in. Hermione wants Narcissa to beg her, and she wants to give in - she wants the power to decide how and when. At the same time, she wants to let Narcissa decides for everything, because it is easier - she wants to be the master and to be at mercy. She cannot ponder over that any more because Narcissa grabs her hand and pushes her onto a bed - deep green silk welcomes her skin. She is there, spread on an unknown bed and she wants something to happen, however, what exactly she does not know - Narcissa is on her knees, in front of her, on the bed but she does nothing except undress her with her eyes. For the first time since the war, Hermione feels seen. She could be self-conscious but she just feels so very attractive. She still wants to hate Narcissa, to hurt her in a way - but truly, she wants to touch her in whatever capacity the other will allow.
Narcissa stares and stares and stares and all of a sudden she is on Hermione’s laps, one hand on her neck, around it really, and the other on the left of her face to support her. Her eyes look hungry and maybe the blond is too - hungry for Hermione.
“You look good enough to eat my dear“ and she licks her lips in the most sinful way.
Hermione pushes up, the hand around her neck tighten and she holds back a whimper while sucking the older witch’s tongue in her mouth. The hand on her, the hips that meet hers, and most of all, the tongue that keeps going back and forth in her mouth - everything is filthy, dirty, pleasurable. She wants to be in control but it feels like Narcissa is fucking her mouth with her tongue and she surrenders, at least for now. It’s wet, so wet - the blond’s tongue feels like the silk she is gripping with both hands now, it’s soft, yet the way it moves is vicious, if she can say the least. She falls back on the bed and Narcissa falls on her, one knee on each side of her slim body, hips on hers, grinding.
The blond keeps kissing her and then the kisses - anything but the sloping kisses Ronald offered her - precise, are trailed down her neck and even below. Hermione is still clothed and her dress feels very much in the way and she whishes Narcissa would take it out of the way - she does not. The older witch places wet kisses on her cleavage and Hermione can feel herself becoming red and everything is so hot - the bed, her skin, Narcissa’s lips and tongue. She wants to urge the blond - put your mouth to better use - but she does not because the slow pace is killing her and she loves it. Narcissa puts her mouth on the limit of her dress and she keeps kissing through the fabric - it feels even hotter but Hermione wants more.
“Not to interrupt you, but maybe you could think about taking that dress off of me“
“Maybe I could think about it indeed“ and Narcissa pulls at the fabric enough to kiss more skin, to make Hermione feels more, but it is still not enough so the brunette takes charge and pushes one of Narcissa’s hand between her legs, forcing her to cup her sex through her thong.
“My, my someone is eager tonight“ and she laughs, the most devilish yet seductive and alluring laugh - and Hermione forgets everything that is not that laugh.
But then Narcissa moves her hand, slowly, and that time, Hermione cannot hold back her moan - it is not loud, but it is there and she hates herself for it. But for a moment only, because the hand moves again and again and again - Hermione is lost in little throaty moans. She still wants to hate Narcissa, but how can one hate someone who is that talented with her fingers - filthy fingers which push the thong and slip below it, with her tongue - a dirty tongue that licks Hermione’s earlobe, making her whimper.
She clutches the sheets and then she grips at Narcissa’s back - she grips hard and she is sure she is leaving red marks on her back. She realizes she wants to, she wants to mark Narcissa, to hurt her but to do it in a way as to show possession. This feeling makes her delirious and she moans louder - Narcissa slips one finger in her but does not move. Hermione pushes her hips but the blond holds her still with one hand - she is stronger than she looks and that makes Hermione actually groan. She knows that begging could give her what she needs but she refuses it “Narcissa“ is all that she says, in a voice turned deeper by arousal. The blond raises one eyebrow “hm ?“ and Hermione groans once again, before ordering “move“ which makes the blond smiles - that wicked smirk “why would I indulge you ?“.
“Because I will pay you back“ - Hermione pushes her hips again, trying to seduce Narcissa into actually moving inside her.
“Oh you would, wouldn’t you ? Why would you do to me ? Maybe if you are convincing enough I will bring you to what will be, unsurprisingly, the best orgasm of your life. I am quite sure of my skills, you know“. Hermione wants to slap her, she really does - that smirk is annoying and she needs to be fucked, right now. But the delay is so enjoyable she submits, again.
“I would kiss my way down your body, between your breast, between your thighs“.
“Tut tut tut, I want details Miss Granger - no detail, no action on my side“. Hermione scratches harder on the blond back which makes her bite her lips, she pushes her hips to get some sort of relief. The fail attempt inclines her to keep talking.
“I would make you beg - teasing you with hard kisses on your neck, alternation between bites and soothing movements of tongue.“ the finger inside her moves slowly out.
“I would suck that spot on your neck and leave a mark here - you would be mine. My hands would be on your thighs, drawing arabesques on your skin, scratching slightly, just enough to heighten the sensations of my mouth’s actions“ the finger goes back in, always so slow.
“You would be below me, of course, which would allow me to keep kissing down your body. I would stop on your breast because I think you’re sensitive here“ Hermione’s breath itches when the blond let out the tiniest of moans, speeding up the movement of her finger, just a bit.
Hermione chuckles and she hates herself for that - she does not want to appreciate what is going on in these chambers, she just wants to stop the dark thoughts in her head. But here she is, chuckling because Narcissa seems aroused and because she is now sure her breast is sensitive.
“I would leave kisses between your breast, around, never actually touching it, while my hands would go nearer and nearer to where you need it, without reaching it - I want you to beg for it Narcissa“ , the throaty laugh the blond lets out turns into a groan halfway before she can utter, in the deepest of voices “I think I am the one in position to make you beg Hermione“.
Her name feels sinful on the other witch tongue and she knows she has a point when the single finger inside of her suddenly stills. Hermione fights the instinctive movement of her hips to make the finger move again. She feels desperate and oh how she wants to reverse the situation, she struggles in the mist of arousal - she wants to be fully in power here, she wants to make Narcissa pay for that little game of hers. She remembers why she is here - she is angry, well, she was at least before ending up in that bed.
The slightest hint of her previous anger is enough for her to act - she tightens her grip on Narcissa’s back, actually digging her nails in the pale skin there, adjusts her legs around the blond’s waist and she rolls them around. She has the upper hand now - she is above. She wants to make her power tangible and so she does - she straddles the blond, grounding her hips on the older witch’s pelvis and she rocks, slowly.
“I won’t beg and I won’t be at your mercy, Narcissa - I want to take my feelings away on you“.
She wants Narcissa to become the exorcist of her anger, wants her to receive that anger and to make whatever she wants of it.
The blond snorts, a nasty look appears on her face “I am no psychiatrist Miss Granger, if you have anger issues, I won’t deal with it“.
Anger issues, Hermione never thought about that - does she have anger issues ? And what if she has, it is her feelings after all, her anger. She looks at the blond beneath her and she feels the ire coming back full force at the sight of that look on her face - she kisses her to make it disappear. She is not tender, not with her kiss, not with the way she shoves her hand between the blond’s legs.
Hermione takes in the fact that they are still both clothed, if one could say that - her own dress is stuck on her hips and lets parts of her breast visible, Narcissa’s is still covering some of her legs, but the so called Ice Queen looks disheveled under Hermione. Her usual perfection is nowhere to be seen, her pale face is flushed and red and her breath is coming out so fast Hermione thinks she might soon hyperventilate. She takes a minute to look at the blond and with one of the silent spells Hermione came to master, she is suddenly naked in front her.
Narcissa has no time to comment on that action because she slides two fingers in her without really thinking about it - for a moment she feels guilty about not even making sure the blond was ready, but she is wet and it is enough. Hermione is not dominant in bed, she is always so submissive - she has no idea who is this girl who takes another woman without asking for consent. She loathes it and loves it at the same time. She could not quite describe the feeling that washes over her at entering Narcissa’s heat - the blond is so warm. Her usual pale complexion is no more - every inch of kissed skin is bright red, eyes shut and mouth slightly open, Narcissa Black is so fuckable. Hermione’s fingers are surrounded by liquid fire, every part of her skin touching the other woman is burning and the breast she is kissing feels smooth and warm. She takes a moment to appreciate the sensation of Narcissa’s walls fluttering around her fingers before setting a punishingly quick pace. Narcissa’s hands become white as she grips the sheets and her lips red as she bites them to blood - a way of shutting herself that Hermione does not like at all. If she cannot hurt Narcissa Black she wants to make her scream in pleasure.
She arches in the blond and, while she keeps moving her fingers fast and hard, she slowly bites her ear and whispers “I want to hear you scream Narcissa, be sinful for me, will you ?“.
She meets dark blue eyes, widely open and one hard thrust is answered by the most immoral moan. Narcissa sounds like nothing Hermione knows - she is utterly depraved in the way each time the brunette hits that particular spot inside of her, she groans like an animal. Hermione watches fascinated, the way her fingers go in and out, in and out - she is so aroused she might die, she wants to be fucked too, but Narcissa seems to be enjoying herself too much to realize it.
Thus, Hermione takes the matter into her own hands - she positions one of Narcissa’s legs between hers and she begins riding it. The rhythm of her hips matches the one of her fingers and she cannot stop the moans slipping from her lips. Narcissa’s sounds are incoherent but Hermione repeats only one thing - Narcissa - the name rolling again and again on her lips while she chases her pleasure.
The hands that were gripping sheets now grasp at Hermione’s back and she reveals in the mix of pain and pleasure - she pumps harder and rides faster. Narcissa’s breath is fast and only composed of short and throaty moans - her sex seems to suck Hermione’s fingers inside and her hips meet the brunette’s with so much force she actually thinks she will have bruises. Hermione does not care, especially not when she suckles and licks at the white neck, leaving dark red marks behind her.
She feels pleasure clouding her mind as she tries to stay focused in her movements - Narcissa’s voice brings her back on earth when she orders, or tries to order between her moans “deeper, go…ah…go deeper“.
Hermione fights the mist and answers “where is the magic - oh god - magic word Narcissa ?“.
She can see the struggle in Narcissa’s frowned brows - she does not beg she said, but Hermione wants her to. The blond pushes her hips higher to make Hermione go deeper and she has the sense of bringing one hand on the brunette’s clitoris to distract her with pleasure. Oh fuck, Narcissa is the answer to that action, but she still does not go deeper. Narcissa tries again, plugging two fingers in Hermione while she rubs her clit on her leg and this time she succeeds - Hermione thrust harder, deeper, one, two, three times and Narcissa would have actually screamed if it were not for Hermione’s mouth on her.
The way she kisses her slightly off point is the key for Hermione - as Narcissa rolls out the waves of her orgasm, she comes around the blond fingers, her name on her tongue ah, ah, Narcissa and then hides her face in the other’s neck. It takes them both a moment to slow down their movements - they still their fingers but do not remove them. Hermione can feel Narcissa eyes on her but she stays hidden. Slowly, oh so slowly fingers are withdrawn from her and she instantly misses the heat, the feeling of being full of something better than anger. She does the same with her fingers, not knowing what else to do. She only stands back when she hears Narcissa sucking her fingers - she watches her does so with a brow arched and a smirk on her lips “you, my dear, tastes delicious“.
Hermione feels very self-conscious, looking at Narcissa swallowing the traces of her pleasure, feeling the wet spot on the blond’s leg, sensing skin on her skin. The emotions come back quickly, too quickly - no more anger but guilt, shame and an overwhelming sadness. She slowly climbs off of Narcissa’s legs and sits on the bed, cheeks red and eyes on the sheets. The blond sits too, in all her nakedness, apparently not at all embarrassed.
The atmosphere becomes heavy with silence. Hermione regrets what she did - who was the person on the bed five minutes earlier, moaning like a prostitute, wanting to make beg and to hurt ? Hermione is a good girl, she obeys, pleases other and is nothing but sweet and polite - she is not obsessive, not angry, not dominant and most of all, she does not want to hurt people. She feels Narcissa’s eyes on her once again, which brings her to whisper
“I am sorry, I do not know what came over me…“ she leaves the sentence hanging in the air, her breath still shallow. When she feels a hand lifting her chin up, it is warm - so warm for an ice queen. She meets blue eyes that are suddenly filled with concern - is Narcissa worried for her ?
“You are allowed to feel Hermione, whatever it is - anger or disappointment, sadness or shame and that even if there is no reason for you to be ashamed. I claimed I would be no psychiatrist for you and I stand by that, but I can be here and I will not judge your feelings“, the hand glides along her cheek and a thumb traces comforting circles on her skin “feel Hermione“.
And just like that, Hermione is sobbing - she stands, still clothed, in front of a very naked Narcissa Black, who she just fucked thoroughly and her walls are breaking. She is not just crying, she is sobbing, screaming, shaking, everything at once and suddenly she is surrounded by warmth - Narcissa is hugging her, rocking her back and forth while she feels everything, lets it all pour out of her. She feels like she stays here for a day, a night and a lifetime - slowly, she stops screaming and shaking but she is still crying. Hermione’s grip tightens on the blond’s back, not to hurt her, not to leave a mark but to ground her - she needs to know this is real. She feels herself growing calmer and calmer in the blond’s arms - she drifts away, away from feelings and from reality as her grip softens. Before she knows it, she is sound asleep in a bed that is not hers.
When Hermione wakes up after what could be a few minutes or a few hours, she refuses to open her eyes, not ready to feel the anger and all of her dark thoughts yet - but even if she can sense the anger, in a part of her mind, it is not as present as usual, something else takes its place. Her eyes flutter but she keeps them close as she tries to understand what is happening - she is clearly not in her bed, the sheets seem far too lofty to be hers. As she inhales deeply, she smells strong coffee, a slight fragrance of jasmine and ginger and a mix of smoke and cherries - her house is packed with odors of cinnamon, tea and vanilla so she is definitely not in her bed or on her sofa.
She moves slowly in the delicate sheets - her whole body aches and that seems to set her brain on motion, to clear the sleepy mist that surrounds it. Hermione suddenly remembers everything - her, full of anger, not at all lenient and quite obsessive, following Narcissa in a muggle bar, once, twice and then them, out of the bar kissing, them, in Narcissa’s bed. Hermione’s will to hurt Narcissa as a way of letting the anger out, the way she left marks on pale skin, fucked without care - shame comes crashing in her mind. Hermione’s eyes flash open - she takes in the tasteful and refined room, the beautiful green silk sheets, her body tangled in it.
She is alone in the room - she sits up to realize she is almost naked, only wearing lacy underwear. She is sure she did not take her dress off yesterday - looking more closely she spots it on a chair near the bed, carefully folded. Hermione has to admit she is taken aback - she feels tired but safe, the anger and shame are present but distant, something changed and she cannot pinpoint what exactly. She feels calmer.
Hermione is looking for a clock, a watch, something when she hears delicate footsteps - Narcissa is on the threshold, watching her cautiously “Miss Granger“ and the title makes her laugh quietly, her voice feels sore when she answers :
“I think you can call me Hermione after what happened“.
The blond arched an eyebrow “what happened - are you referring to the rough sex or to you finally allowing your emotions to be felt ?“. Her voice is serious, tainted by concern and Hermione feels her cheeks growing red - shame.
“Do not blush - I enjoyed myself for the sex part and I offered to be there for you after“. She lets a few seconds pass and adds “coffee ?“. Hermione nods and Narcissa comes in the room like she owns it - she does actually - and extends a cup of coffee for the brunette to take. The warmth of the cup eases Hermione’s mind - the wave of shame goes back as she takes a sip. “May I ?“ the blond gestures to the free part of the bed and Hermione nods “it’s your bed“, which makes the blond chuckles.
“I won’t make you the offense of asking if you are alright because you clearly are not, but are you feeling better ? Did you find what you came looking for in my bed ?“.
“I don’t know what I came looking for actually. But I do feel slightly better“.
“The war was hard on you Hermione“ the blond is interrupted by a snort “oh please do not dismiss me after I held you crying for half of the night !“.
“I did not ask for that“.
“You did not but you came here and fucked me like you meant to hurt me so I think I deserve to know“.
“I owe you nothing“. She feels a hand on her arm and even though her first instinct is to pull back, part of her brain makes her lean in the touch.
“You do not, but I could help you - the war was not easy on you, both wars were not easy on me Hermione. Talk to me, what are you feeling ?“.
Hermione considers her options - she could leave, she could talk. She thinks about Narcissa’s warmth when she held her, about her soothing gestures, about her weariness.
“I feel angry, all the time. I want to be lenient because it is what everyone expects from me but these expectations are crushing me. I have these thoughts that overwhelm me, there are always there, oppressing me. I have obsessive tendencies, I thought focusing on something else would push these feelings away. I am sorry that you became the target of that plan. I am sorry for yesterday, for using you, for wanting to hurt you… “.
Hermione feels like crying but tears won’t come. She cannot bring herself to look at the blond. Once again, she feels a warm hand lifting her chin up and she meets clear blue eyes - nothing like the dark blue of the night. She flinches but Narcissa holds her still.
“You need to accept the anger, to feel it if you want it to pass - you might always be angry but not as much and… “.
“And ?“.
“And if you need someone to obsess over while learning how to feel in a healthy way, how to cope, I might just be that“.
Hermione feels the tears this time, but she does nothing to wipe them away - she touches the arm of the hand holding her chin and whispers “Narcissa, am I allowed to kiss you ?“. It seems like the most illogical thing to say right now, but she wants to say it nonetheless and so she does.
The blond says nothing and as Hermione is about to apologize for her stupidity, Narcissa takes one of her hands in her and places the tenderest of kisses on the brunette’s palm, barely touching her.
Hermione feels her pull back as she whispers “I might like rough sex, but if you want to do this the right way, we will have to begin again, properly this time“. Hermione nods, eyes shut, wondering if she does want that - a relationship with Narcissa ? And as the blond offers “meet me at the bar tonight, we could drink a glass of wine together, begin again, help you sort your emotions“, Hermione decides that yes, even if it feels foolish, crazy, even if it comes out of the blue, she wants to try. She wants to try and love Narcissa and be loved - she wants Narcissa to teach her how to love herself. She is lost and Narcissa appear as a beacon in the darkness and Hermione is ready to cling at it.
Hermione has obsessive tendencies and she hates it as much as she hates herself - but maybe for once she does not hate it that much. Everything seems odd and peculiar, but the anger is kept at bay for now and Hermione, after months of feeling isolated by her own emotions, wants to feel normal things again, to feel them deeply and healthily. And Narcissa might just be the one to help her do that, even if it makes no sense to her at all.