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Turn Me in the Direction of You

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The coarse black sand under her feet had become one of the things that grounded her. Hermione Granger, war hero and member of the Golden Trio, had absconded to the Greek Isles. She was grateful that no one who knew her had any idea where she was, so she had no need to explain her decisions. It hadn’t been the scars of war that made her leave Britain. While she certainly had nightmares like everyone else, dealing with that tragedy and resulting trauma wasn’t what sent her running. 

Embarrassingly it was an overly complex interpersonal situation. She should have known that the three front seduction would eventually end catastrophically. Learning the Bellatrix and Narcissa were not as evil as they had initially believed was a shock for the members of the Order. But the assimilation was relatively easy, as the sisters provided substantial aid to win the war faster than anyone had hoped. Hermione knew that without their assistance, it very well might have drug on for years upon years. And once Andromeda welcomed them with open arms, the rest of the Order fell quickly into line. Hermione had been immediately entranced by the powerful, mysterious witches. 

She idly wondered if Bellatrix was part siren, so intense were their interactions. The dark witch made her want in a way that she had never dreamed of. The game of cat and mouse was intoxicating and Hermione couldn’t resist it. She could see it now that there was little more to it than a game. It explained why there had never been any movement forward. Only loaded glances, discrete brushes of hands, and flirting had ever passed between them. And yet… Hermione had been enraptured. 

Andromeda was little better. She was less harsh in her approach, but seemed to be playing to steal Hermione’s attention from Bellatrix. Hermione had reveled in being the center of her attention too, though even then she had known it was as much about showing up Bellatrix as it was any real desire for Hermione. But to have two witches show such affection and preference towards her was empowering. She felt important and special in ways that she hadn’t known before. 

Then there was Narcissa. By comparison, she was quiet and restrained. Hermione looked to her for support and stability in a world that seemed to swirl around her. It was ironic to find such comfort in Draco Malfoy’s mother, but there was so much in the new world that made little sense. They had kept their meeting secret, particularly from the other two sisters. Hermione got the distinct impression that Narcissa did not wish to be seen as a part of their competition or perhaps even have it known that they were so close. For a time, Hermione was happy enough just to have the sweet blue eyes watch her with adoration. 

Logically, Hermione knew there was no way that she would get away with keeping such a volume of secrets. But in those early days after the war, everyone was so busy that it was easy to bury such liaisons. Until it wasn’t. She would never forget the look on Ginny and Harry’s faces when they found the three letters sitting on her desk. She had been meaning to respond to each of the Black sisters in turn and hadn’t been expecting company. She did her best to explain away the correspondence, but the flirtation and innuendo were hardly subtle in each of the letters. 

So she had made the decision to take time away. She told Harry and Ginny that she was packing for a holiday and would be back in a month’s time. She hated to lie to them (again), but had no desire to explain or even really think through what she was doing. She promised to owl, but never shared where she would be going. 

She had chosen Tzia on a whim. It was a lovely small island a short distance from Athens. She arrived a little early for most tourists, but managed to make her way to the far side of the island where she had rented a house. It had once been a small church that was converted into a small bungalow on a private beach. It offered a type of beauty and solitude that she had never experienced before. It lacked the large ancient monuments that Hermione had always associated with Greece, but it certainly made up for it in charm. 

So far, she had enjoyed 3 months of the warm Greek sun and placid blue waters. In the quiet she had found herself. When she arrived, Hermione hadn’t even known that she had been lost. She only knew that she could barely breathe. But after weeks of lying on the quiet beach and swimming in the bay, she had faced her fears. She confronted them and had started to map a way forward. 

She regretted slightly that she had disappeared from Britain without telling any of the sisters where she was going. At the time, she hadn’t known what to say to any of them. Telling any one of them what was going on or where she was going would have been deeply vulnerable and well outside the confines of their relationships. She was certain that silence had been the only path. She was learning to revel in the stretches of it.


Like the 94 days preceding, Hermione woke early and gathered a few things to take to the beach. Looking at the overcast sky, she left her book and wand in the safety of the house. She draped a towel over her arm and snatched her water bottle off the counter. She used the old fashioned key to lock the door, turning it three times. She looped the long chain on the key around her neck.

She took a deep breath of the sea air. The wind was blowing white caps on the deep blue water. The air felt different and free, but carried no chill in early September. Hermione was beginning to wonder if the island had autumn. She couldn’t think of a single reason to return to a cold and rainy island where life was so complicated. She walked down to the water’s edge and kicked off her shoes. There was something about the water on her feet first thing in the morning. It was magical. She could practically feel the essence of magic swirling around her. She breathed it in and felt the build in her magical core. Though the sun wasn’t out, she felt warmed as she did every morning. 

Laying out her towel, she settled in to sit and listen to the waves and birds. She watched the little water birds play along the shore. Her peace was broken by the sound of a diesel engine approaching in the distance. It wasn’t entirely unusual to hear one occasionally, thought usually not so early on the sleepy little island. She did her best to ignore it, even as the sound grew closer. She jumped slightly when a door slammed. She turned just enough to glance over her shoulder.

The figure that rose out of the passenger seat was perhaps the last person Hermione was expecting to see… here. Her blonde hair was pulled into a neat ponytail at the base of her head. She wore a loose fitting linen suit that was far too formal for the island, but shockingly muggle. 

Hermione stood and turned to watch as the witch took her small bag in her hand and began walking towards her. She paused where the road reached the sand to remove her heels, then continued her progress. 

Hermione was frozen watching her walk smoothly towards her. She knew she should say something or move an arm to wave or literally anything that would be less awkward. 

“Hello, Hermione,” Narcissa said, stopping in front of her and looking over her sunglasses. 

“Hi,” she managed to squeak in response. 

Hermione was still attempting to find something to say while drinking in the physical presence of the beautiful witch when the first big fat drop of hair hit her head. In the moment it took for her to look to the sky, the drops started falling faster. 

“Would you mind if we go in for this conversation,” Narcissa asked gently. 

“Oh… yes. Of course,” Hermione mumbled and gathered her things. 

She motioned awkwardly to the house and walked quickly towards it. She could feel Narcissa behind her, but she didn’t dare look for fear that she might trip over her own feet. By the time they reached the small porch, Hermione was soaked through. She fumbled with the key, finally managing to get it in the lock. She turned it awkwardly as she hadn’t taken the chain from around her neck. When she was finally able to stand back up, she didn’t miss that the blonde had been staring at her ass, in part because she was now staring resolutely at her chest. Hermione glanced down to see that the white shirt she had worn was plastered to the rather small bikini she was wearing. When she looked back at Narcissa, she was naturally perfectly dry and put together. 

“I…. I should get changed.”

“Yes, I dare say you should.”

Blue eyes finally moved up to her face. 

“Please… make yourself comfortable,” Hermione mumbled, turning away already. 

Looking around the rest of the small room, she realized that there was very little privacy in the single roomed house aside from the bathroom. She turned back to apologize for the size and vague disarray of the space only to see Narcissa putting down her things without taking her eyes off of her. 

“Oh, I do intend on being comfortable,” Narcissa said with a raised eyebrow. “Now, why don’t you let me help you out of that shirt.”

Hermione could conjure no words, but nodded. She shuddered under the gentle touch of the warm hands resting on her hips. 

“Narcissa,” she whispered.

“So you do remember my name.” The blonde pulled the wet shirt smoothly over her head. “That will surely prove useful later.” 

As soon as the shirt was cleared her head, Hermione lunged for Narcissa’s lips. What started as aggressive quickly melted to soft and full of longing. 

“Oh,” Hermione gasped out, “I’ve missed you.”

Hermione looked surprised at her own words, but Narcissa’s eyes were alight with acknowledgement. The blonde's arms were tight around her when the tears started. Narcissa held her wet and chilled body against her soft dry clothes. Hermione clung to the solid form. 

“Let’s go get us dry,” the blonde said gently. 

Hermione flushed pink, realizing how much water had transferred from her swimsuit to Narcissa’s clothing. 

“I’m sorry there isn’t much privacy here,” Hermione said wiping her eyes. 

“I see plenty of privacy from those who I might need privacy from. Lovely remote place. It is beautiful, in spite of the rain.”

“It is. Quite literally every day.”

The blonde picked up her bag and carried it to the bed. Hermione watched her pull out her thin black wand and use it to unlock the bag. 

“I’m sorry I got your clothes wet. You looked…” 

Hermione’s voice trailed off. 

“I looked?”

“You looked breathtaking. I’m not sure if I’ve even figured out to breathe since.”

Narcissa cupped Hermione’s cheek sweetly. 

“You are quite honestly terrible at flirting.” 

The blonde lessened the sharpness of her comment by placing a kiss at the corner of the younger witch’s mouth. Hermione chuckled. 

“Only with you. I assure you that…” 

“You flirted better with my sisters?” 

Hermione froze trying to figure out any approach that would prevent the conversation. When she was brave enough to look up into the blue eyes, she realized that there was no such course. 

“Yes… and no. I think I found more clever words with them. I do like a competition. But Narcissa.”  Hermione reached out and took her hands. “I can’t do that with you. Not when the words I use might actually matter.” 

“Did you fuck them?”

Narcissa’s voice sounded brittle to Hermione.

“No,” Hermione breathed out in relief. “No, it never got that far before I got to know you. Then I got to know you… and I couldn’t. Which I know must sound silly or fake. I didn’t even know if you would be free or if you are now.”

“Shh,” Narcissa said, her fingertips touching Hermione’s lips. “I know. I already asked them. And I was free in ways that mattered and am entirely now. So perhaps you needn’t be so nervous.” 

“I’m not sure that makes me less nervous.”

Narcissa’s beautiful laugh filled the small space. The resonance of its former purpose illuminating the sound.

“Then it is fortunate indeed that I find it charming. Now, stop trying to distract me.”

Narcissa reached behind her and undid the clasp on her swimsuit. Hermione held out her arms slightly and allowed the fabric to move away from her skin. Warm hands traced the outlines of her breasts before taking them in the palms of Narcissa’s hands. Hermione leaned into the sensation. The soft skin against her taut nipples made her belly tighten. 

“You are so beautiful.” 

Narcissa looked at her with adoration that filled up Hermione’s chest with warmth. Hermione leaned forward further into her hands and kissed her again. The moan she captured and swallowed made her shiver with desire. 

“Let me.” Hermione slowly slipped her fingers around the buttons and unfastened them letting the shirt fall open. She reverently brushed her hands over the curves it revealed. “I’ve never been with a woman before,” Hermione admitted shyly, looking up through long lashes.

“Mmm,” Narcissa hummed. “That’s alright. More than.” 

The possessive tone made Hermione gasp. 

“We have plenty of time for you to… learn.” 

“Yes, please,” she said automatically. 

“You should start now,” the blonde teased and lifted Hermione’s hands to her own breasts. 

Hermione looked at the beautiful lace under her fingertips. The contrast of the coarse black fabric against the velvety soft skin beneath was intoxicating. 

“May I?”

Herimone’s voice shook, but she got the words out. 

“Oh yes,” Narcissa said, but didn’t move to do it for her. 

Hermione traced the outline of the garment to the hooks. She undid it in a single try, which she would have gloated about except for she couldn’t possibly tear her eyes away from the pale skin. She let her hands follow the path her eyes had taken. She was amazed at the goosebumps that broke out. Narcissa tugged their bodies together and Hermione tucked her head into the pale neck. 

“I’m so glad to see you,” Hermione said against the skin. 

Narcissa answered by kissing her again. It was slower and consuming in a way the previous kisses hadn’t been. Hermione did her best to keep up and was breathless when it ended. She pushed the bottoms of her swimsuit from her hips and was treated to another of the blonde’s beautiful laughs. 

“Fortune favors the bold, darling,” Narcissa urged. “I cannot tell you how much I want your hands beneath my waistband and then to be lying naked in that bed with you.” 

“Fuck, Narcissa,” Hermione mumbled and touched the bare stomach. She toyed with the clasp. She was both hurried and wanted to take her time. She wanted Narcissa so badly that she could barely think, but she also wanted to remember every moment of this magic. When she released the button, she felt the jolt that had Narcissa gripping at her shoulders. Feeling bold, Hermione slipped her hand into Narcissa’s underwear. Her knees nearly buckled at the wetness at her fingertips. 

“Oh, Merlin. Take my pants off and let's lay down. I am far too old to stay standing. And I have every intention of there being multiple courses in this meal.”

Hermione pushed the pants down with haste. She felt like she was in the presence of a goddess. Narcissa sat on the bed and beckoned her over.

“I am a patient witch, Hermione. But I do not have endless patience. I waited for you to come to your senses, then I waited for you to come home. Please do not make me wait for this.”

“Why have you been so patient,” Hermione asked, but still climbed onto the bed next to her and started stretching out. 

“I know when things are worth waiting for or worth pursuing doggedly. And we can talk, as much as you want, but right now I need you.”

“I”m right here. Anything you want, anything you need,” Hermione whispered, already pressing their bodies together and kissing the pale skin. 

Narcissa captured her lips again and pulled their bodies together. She slipped a pale thigh between Hermione’s legs. She ground her hips, painting Hermione’s skin with her wetness. Hermione’s hips jolted and Narcissa gasped at the arousal she could feel. 

“I want to be inside of you, Hermione,” Narcissa moaned into her ear. 

“Please, Narcissa. Please, I want you. I’ve wanted you since the first time we spoke. I longed to be the center of your attention.”

“You have been for months,” Narcissa confessed. She worked her hand down between the now open legs. She was torn between savouring and possessing, but in the end did not restrain her baser instincts. She watched the lovely face as she eased her fingers in. The moan echoed in her ears. 

“Oh my god. Why did I wait so long for this? Why did I ever question if this was what I wanted?” 

Hermione babbled and wantonly moved her hips against the hands. 

“Oh my darling witch, things were complicated. And we didn’t know what we had at first. But we are righting what we got wrong the first time now, aren’t we.”

“Yes,” Hermione chanted. “Yes, I am going to get it right.”

“Mmm, I dare say you will. I will make sure you do.”

Hermione jolted when Narcissa leaned down and nipped harshly at her neck. 

“Fuck.. I need…”

Hermione moaned loudly, which seemed to only encourage Narcissa as she changed angles slight and continued to move her fingers inside of her.

“Come, Hermione. Come for me.” 

Hermione shuddered hard and felt the edges of the climax close on her quickly. She pushed into the feeling and clung closely to Narcissa. She shook apart in the blonde’s arms.

Narcissa held her close revelling in the ragged breathing and rocking shudders. 

“I want you still,” Hermione said, still breathing heavily. 

“I should hope so. You haven’t even had me yet,” Narcissa snarked. 

Hermione smiled at the challenge and rolled playfully on top of her. 

“Well, I suppose there is no time like the present.” 

She took the tight nipple into her mouth savoring the both the feeling of it in her mouth and the moans she pulled from the blonde. 

“Now is not the time to be shy, Hermione,” Narcissa egged her on. “As previously covered, I have been extremely patient.”

Hermione trailed her right hand along the blonde’s side until she reached the tender inner thighs. She scraped her nails gently over the skin until she found the wetness again. It was more than before. It coated her inner thighs and was starting to drip down on the sheets.

“Touch me, Hermione.”

The brunette did take her time. She wanted to know every intimate detail of the blonde. She was slow and methodical. She paid attention to every micro reaction and adjusted her touch accordingly. She felt the moment it started to build and she urged Narcissa towards climax. She relished in the muscles as they tightened around her fingers. 

“Please, Narcissa. Let go,” Hermione whimpered through the vicarious pleasure. 

When Narcissa came, it was like the warmth of the Mediterranean sun and its reflection off the water. It was glorious and so perfectly beautiful that she found that she was without words. Hermione laid, still mostly on top of Narcissa, feeling the witch’s breath begin to return to normal. 

“I can’t believe you came to find me,” Hermione finally said quietly. 

“I can barely believe you made me, though I suppose I do understand. Everyone needs a holiday occasionally. I would request that next time you invite me, instead of simply disappearing.”

Hermione laughed and attempted to hide her face. 

“Merlin, I hope the next one is under less embarrassing circumstances.” 

Narcissa hummed. 

“Hermione, you are aware that no one, save the four of us, really knows what was going on, right? Your friends told me that they saw my letter, but none of the Black sisters would send sensitive correspondence that anyone could read.” 

Hermione jolted at the idea that maybe the entire world didn’t know the complicated mess she had gotten herself into. 

“And furthermore, such games are not uncommon in the pureblooded circles. Familial closeness and such. But do not be confused. You are mine and mine alone. I am legally a Black once again, and I have every intention of making it publicly known that you are not available.” 

“Narcissa, are you asking to court me?” 

Hermione’s voice was light and playful. 

“Absolutely not. I am informing you that we have been courting for months and giving you the opportunity to catch up.”

Hermione smiled against the flushed skin before wiggling her way down between splayed legs. She looked up into Narcissa’s eyes for a long moment before dipping her head down.