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The Black Prophecy

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Hermione watched agast as the very clearly dead body of Albus Dumbledore fell from the bell tower. It was as if her world went into slow motion. She did not care for him, but she had yet to acclimate to watching death at such close range. The thought made her stomach roll. The arms around her middle tightened in protective response, though Hermione could feel that Bella didn’t understand her reaction. Without a doubt she knew that this summer would be when she lost the rest of her innocence. She wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about it, but the compelling witch wrapped around her was a siren. And Hermione wasn’t fool enough to think that she could resist her.

The creaking of a floorboard from beneath them had all heads snapping down. An eerie quiet had fallen over them after Draco executed the killing curse. Hermione saw a flash of Harry Potter darting around a corner. Before she could say or do anything Bellatrix was pulling her arm moving her forward.

“Come, darling,” Bella’s voice rang playfully in her head. “It high time that you used some of that complex magic you’ve been holding back. And I am in need of a little havoc.”

“Wand or no wand,” Hermione intoned back just as playfully.

“As tempting as that is, love. I am not sure everyone present needs to know exactly how powerful you are. And didn’t Cissy tell you no complex wandless magic in the castle. I would so hate for you to disobey her again.”

Bella’s cackling laugh sounded loudly in her head, causing Hermione to roll her eyes.

“Will you ever stop lording that over me?”

“Not a chance,” the dark witch answered looking over her shoulder.

Hermione couldn’t resist smiling at her wife’s gentle teasing. She knew Bella was trying to make her relax, but that didn’t make it ineffective. On their way down yet another staircase at a run, she wondered if the death eaters were training for marathons while she was away at school. They all seemed fine while she was struggling to keep moving and breathing.

“Bella,” she whined telepathically which she realized even sounded winded. “Please tell me that there is a spell or something…”

“Whats the matter little witch? Can you not keep up?” The dark witch was entirely unaffected by the trek through the castle.

“Oh I can keep up.” She made a conscious effort to push harder, but whenever they stopped she was well aware that she would be hurting.

“Time to have a little fun,” Lucius said breaking the tense silence.

The group skidded to a stop at the tremendous doors to the Great Hall. With a wave of her wand, Bellatrix sent the doors flying open banging loudly. Before Hermione could even think of moving, she heard her comrades firing off destructive spells. Magic crackled all around her and it was clear that she either needed to join in or risk being injured. Her wife had already jumped up on the closest table, which happened to belong to the Gryffindors. Hermione suspected that this was less than an accident. Bella never truly let go of her competitive self of quidditch matches past.

Following in her love’s foot steps, Hermione took up on the table to her right. After each spell Bella fired, Hermione duplicated it with slightly more power watching in amusement as her wife’s annoyance grew. Bella was so accustomed to being the most powerful and most feared that Hermione couldn’t help but poke at her a bit. Not that she had any desire to truly over power her, but provoking Bella’s aggression was always fun. When she reached the end of her long table, Hermione watched her wife hop down clearly expecting her to follow. Instead, the young witch turned and brandished her wand over her head. With a few easy flicks of her wrist the ever present candles that hovered above learning witches and wizards for generations extinguished quietly. Stepping down from her perch, Hermione stepped into her wife’s personal space.

“Cast it, my love,” the young witch whispered into black curls. She was pleased when dark eyes never left her’s as the dark curse floated out between red lips. The jet of light and smoke that formed and slithered into the form of their master’s mark would hover in the room for days. There would be no mistaking who over took the castle.

“You are more magnificent with every passing day,” Bella breathed against the skin of her lover’s neck. “The night is not yet over.” Once again the dark witch tugged her lover forward, but any lingering hesitance was gone from the young witch. Hermione might have been tired, but it didn’t show in her movements as the barreled down the slope behind the castle away from Hogwarts.

Just as they reached the caregiver’s cabin, the Potter boy came shouting after Severus. Bella raised her wand still more than in the mood for a good fight, but she was stayed by Hermione’s hand on her waist. The boy belonged to their Lord and Bella ought not interfere. The dark witch followed her easily. Bella would follow no other, but the mood that Hermione was in was beyond intriguing. She watched her young lover as she glanced over her shoulder at Snape. The affection between them was adorable, though she knew that the last semester had created significant friction between the two. She hoped that Hermione’s exit from Hogwarts would allow them to rebuild.

They reached the portkey and within moments were standing on the lawn behind Malfoy Manor. Hermione breathed the fresh air in deeply. She felt undeniably free. The imposing grey structure had been intimidating the first time she saw it, but now she knew what it housed. Her family was waiting within those halls to welcome her home and to not force her to leave again. She walked in the middle of the group of celebrating death eaters. Out in front of her strode the two proud Malfoy men. She was pleased to note that Draco looked as relieved to be home as she felt. He was no longer the pale ashen color he had been just after the headmaster fell to his death. Surrounded by the weathered strong warriors, Draco looked in his element. For the first time, he looked as though he belonged.

Hermione wondered, and not for the first time, if she truly belonged. After all she hadn’t grown up among them or their traditions. Perhaps at the end of the coming battle they would all cast her aside, once she had served their purposes. As her thoughts turned darker, the doors to the back entrance flew open, light streaming out. The silhouette of her favorite blonde witch felt burnt in her soul. She couldn’t help but dare to hope that Narcissa would welcome her home and when it all came to an end and that, like Bellatrix, she would not abandon her. As she climbed the steps to the entrance, she gaped at the blonde literally opening her arms and waiting for her. Hermione launched herself without a second thought towards Narcissa, who caught her easily.

“Welcome home, little witch,” Narcissa purred stroking her hair.

Hermione felt the presence of her wife passing as Bellatrix entered the house with the others leaving her standing in the blonde’s arms. The small nod of affirmation granted whatever permission the young witch might need. With the other’s out of sight, Hermione’s eyes filled with tears and she burrowed her face into Narcissa’s neck.

“Oh darling, come to bed with me,” the blonde said already leading her away from the crowd and up the stairs. “Bella will come and find us when she is ready.”

Hermione clung to Narcissa with a neediness she had previously been reticent to show the blonde. Secretly she had always believed that the blonde knew without words, but there would be little doubt that Narcissa understood now. The thought of being so thoroughly exposed emotionally shook her to her core, but the firm hand encasing her own grounded her enough to keep moving. When the solid oak door divided them from the rest of the house, Hermione separated herself from the blonde enough to truly look at her companion.

Narcissa looked beautiful tonight. Her hair sparkled in the candlelight. Half pulled up and held by a silver clip, it put her slender pale neck on display. The shimmering blue dress she wore hugged and accentuated every curve of her body. She was absolutely delicious. Hermione knew she was staring, but what was she to do. She had been surrounded by adolescent idiots, none of whom were even remotely attractive. Hermione hadn’t taken the time to really look at anyone in weeks, and Narcissa was a dream.

"Well hello to you too, Hermione,” the blonde said perching herself on the corner of her dresser. She was more than happy to let the young witch look her fill. Narcissa knew she was dressed well. She had hoped that she might lure Hermione and Bellatrix into her bed. And as it was, clearly Hermione was in need of affection and affirmation. Narcissa was more than happy to supply both, knowing Bellatrix was unlikely to be far behind and would cement any reassurances Narcissa laid out.

“Narcissa,” the young witch whispered reverently. It was so good to see her here in this house with an entire night stretched out in front of them. She had little doubt Bella would be along before long. She could feel her wife’s rising libido downstairs. Bella was very much enjoying the anticipation.

Narcissa pushed away from the furniture stalking slowly towards the slightly dirty but incredibly sexy witch in front of her. She threw just a little extra swing in her hips, though she knew it was not necessary for the seduction. In the mood Hermione was in, she would happily follow Narcissa’s lead. Satisfied that Hermione was appropriately transfixed, she indulgently ran her fingers over the collar of the witch’s robes.

“Is it too cliche to say how very good it is to see you,” Hermione said quietly.

Narcissa hummed thoughtfully, opting to kiss her instead of answering directly. It was beyond good to have the witch back under her roof safe and sound. Hermione leaned into her and slipped her arms around her. It would have been absolutely perfect, if her young lover did not smell of battle. Such things might turn on Bellatrix, but Narcissa preferred soft and clean.

“Come, little witch,” Narcissa said leading her towards the obscenely beautiful bathroom. “I have just the thing to help you unwind from today.”

Usually she would have immediately banished their clothing, but Hermione sought intimacy.  Nimble fingers stripped the young witch slowly teasing skin as it was bared. The young witch moaned beautifully and when she was finally nude looked hopefully at Narcissa. The blonde smirked in the way that only she could. It was at once amused and inviting. Hermione’s hands shook only slightly as she disengaged the complicated clasps of the dress. There was a time when the young witch would have been genuinely confused by them, but she had acclimated so beautifully to their culture. Feeling the hands steady as they touched her bared skin was more than arousing. This was the Hermione she hoped to spend time with tonight.

“As delightful as this is, little one. I have designs on bathing with you.” Narcissa grinned at the shade of red creeping down Hermione’s neck. Leading her willing companion into steaming bubbly water, the blonde witch settled her back against the porcelain side opening her arms invitingly. Clearly enraptured by the warm water and kindness, the young witch sunk into her with a breathy sigh of pleasure. Narcissa summoned a sponge and her favorite scent of soap. She would delight in smelling it on Hermione’s skin for the rest of the evening. There was something undeniably sweet about how easily the young witch gave herself over to Narcissa’s care. It gave the blonde peace of mind that no matter how powerful and accomplished the witch became that Hermione was still capable of surrendering to care and love. So long as this was possible, the blonde had hope that they might come through this war in one piece.

With painstaking thoroughness, Narcissa ran the soapy sponge over sore muscles carrying away the stress the school year brought to Hermione. Narcissa delicately guided water over a tipped back head that exposed the pale column of a slender throat. The older witch couldn’t help but to run her red tipped nails with just a touch of roughness over the firm muscles. Hermione moaned so deeply, that she practically vibrated against Narcissa. Though the blonde was tempted to take the young witch, the continued anticipation would only serve to heighten the experience when she finally did give into the temptation. With liberal use of soap and her nails, the older witch washed Hermione’s hair from scalp to ends. By the time she was rinsing, the young witch had melted entirely against her all tension gone from her body.

They hadn’t spoken throughout the bath, and yet Hermione could not remember ever feeling more connected to someone aside from Bella. While she hadn’t been surprised that Narcissa was waiting for her when they got back to the Manor, Hermione had been unsure of how she would be greeted. Over the last few months, she was well aware that she was not always understanding or kind in her frustration at being separated from her wife. Even in her relief in finally getting to leave Hogwarts, she had harbored worry that others would hold it against her. She was so utterly relaxed and aroused beyond belief that she felt like she would come out of her skin. While she detested admitting weakness or need to anyone but Bella, she couldn’t reign in her need.

“Cissa, please,” she whispered against damp skin as she turned her face into the blonde’s neck.

“Oh little witch, don’t worry. I will take care of your needs. And you are desperately needing me now, aren’t you,” Narcissa asked as she trailed a hand between Hermione’s legs.

“Merlin,  yes,” the young witch panted through gritted teeth.

“Come then, I won’t have you risking drowning on my account.”

Though she couldn’t see Narcissa’s face as she was being ushered out of the bath, she knew well the seductive smirk that would be painted across it. Were she not in such great need, Hermione might have pushed back in some way. Instead she lifted herself up on uncooperative limbs and out of the tub. As her feet touched the bath mat, her entire body was wrapped in a warm drying spell. By the time they reached Narcissa’s bed, wet hair was up and out of the way. It was clear that the blonde, too, was more than ready to have her. With a willingness she felt soul-deep, Hermione climbed on to the already turned down bed and turned to watch Narcissa approach. The blonde practically glided over the floor. She no longer strove to contain her cat-who-got-the-canary face. Had that look been on any other visage aside from this and one other, Hermione would have been reaching for her wand. Instead she settled fully on her back and waiting patiently.

“Well, isn’t this a nice change,” Narcissa cooed running a finger down Hermione’s body from sternum to hip bone. “I rather expected you would come back despondent and difficult.” A flash of challenge flited through amber eyes which the blond quickly quelled by taking an already hard nipple between her lips and sucking. “Not that I mind this, little witch. You can always come to me for comfort,” she added once she released the nipple in favor of kissing the witch.

“I’m in need of a little more than comfort,” Hermione gritted out lifting her hips against the body over her attempting to find any friction.

“That too, I can provide.” The blonde seemed intent on proving out her words as her fingers trailed through Hermione’s arousal. Gratified by the closed eyes and open mouth of Hermione, she slipped her fingers in deeply.

“Please, Narcissa,” Hermione chanted reverently. The blonde had made her feel good from the moment she darkened the door this night. It was obvious that Narcissa knew her needs almost before she felt them. She wasn’t making it hard in the slightest. There were no games, no struggle for control. The blonde was intently delivering body wracking pleasure as quickly as Hermione could take it. Far too soon, the young witch was hovering at the edge. Narcissa brought her to a thundering climax with a deep probing kiss and flip of her thumb.

When Hermione finally came back to herself enough to move again, she opened her eyes to find a very pleased looking blonde watching her affectionately. Pushing gently, the young witch rolled over on top of the beautiful woman opting to pay meticulous attention to her neck and clavicles.

“Thank you, Cissa. I don’t have words,” she finally whispered against damp skin as she made her way lower.

“You don’t need to have them,” Narcissa said breathily running a hand through her lover’s hair sweetly. “I want you between my legs,” she added unable to wait any longer. She was pleased when  her instruction was immediately followed with considerable enthusiasm. The witch was undeniably good with her mouth. And Hermione was clearly very intent on her task.

Bellatrix had the good fortune to have been able to enter the bedroom undetected. She reset the wards she had broken through before advancing towards the bed. The two witches were so wrapped up in their coupling that they hadn’t heard her approach. It gave her the unfettered opportunity to watch the incredible sexy scene before her. Hermione’s skin was rosy from the after effects of a climax and Narcissa was nearly there. Never one to be left out of the action, she banished her own clothing with a flick of her wrist and slipped on to the bed. She immediately latched on to the blonde’s closest nipple with her mouth while rolling the other between her fingers. Narcissa arched up into the touch in pleasure. Almost as quickly, Hermione’s fingers found their way easily inside of her. It was undeniably good to be home.