The Malfoy and Black Families stepped out of the fireplace buzzing with energy. Though the command of their leader meant an increase in risk to their lives, it also meant an end to the limbo they had been living in for months. The clear set of goals and information to start from would be enough to keep them happily occupied for several months.
“Father,” Draco managed to say over the excited conversation. “I fancy a trip to Borgin and Burkes. I reckon I need to check in on our friend there.”
“You know I like a good shopping trip,” the blonde wizard replied amiably. He didn’t dare say it out loud, but he desperately wanted to escape the rather frantic and unnecessary last minute actions of his wife.
“Lucius,” Bella joined in immediately. “This might be a good opportunity to start inquiring about certain pieces.”
The blonde witch spun to face the three as though they were engaging in an act of treason. Before she could begin a rant, the Malfoy men were moving towards the fireplace.
The dark witch scooped her wife up into her arms, kissing her soundly. Before she released her she quietly said, “Stay and help Cissy. Do whatever necessary to ensure she is calmer by the time we return.” With a quick wink she was gone, following her brother-in-law and nephew.
Hermione took a deep breath to steel herself for the onslaught that was bound to come. The blonde had been difficult to be around since Christmas. With the rest of the family jumping ship, it was likely she would be positively unmanageable.
“It is enlightening to see their priorities. And yours, little witch. But why exactly is it that you remain?” While it may have sounded like a question, there wasn’t a pause in conversation in which Hermione could have answered. “Because your wife commanded that you do it?”
“Do you think so little of me, Narcissa? I am here because it is the right thing to do. Convenient that it aligned with Bella’s wishes. But honestly my muggle parents may not have understood me, but they did at least raise me to have manners. Now what do you need help with? I am not going to be your punching bag because they didn’t do what you want.” By the end of her speech, the young witch was shaking with anger and a little fear. She didn’t want to anger the blonde or further hurt her feelings, but there was a limit to the amount of abuse Hermione was willing to take on behalf of the others.
Narcissa blinked rapidly and raised an eyebrow in disbelief. The witch had only spoken to her in that tone once before, just before she “apologized.”
“Very well. We should decorate above the dance floor. You did bother to bring your wand, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I have it,” she answered through gritted teeth. The blonde was well aware that Hermione could do the magic efficiently with or without the piece of wood. The comment was simple condescension. She took a deep breath willing herself not to give into her anger. It was clear that the witch was agitated and attempting to goad her into action.
“Very well then. Come along. We don’t have time for dawdling.”
“Yes, Narcissa,” Hermione answered hoping that she kept all traces of sarcasm from her voice. As annoying as the woman was being, she didn’t have any desire to really piss her off. The young witch wasn’t exactly sure how to handle that without the buffer that was her wife. After all, Bella had years to learn the intricacies of the blonde's moods and whims. Without her, Hermione was flying blind.
The two witches walked through the large house quickly. The room had largely already been converted for the ball. Hermione suspected that Narcissa specifically left some of the work to be done in the evening so that she would have something to do with her nerves that was productive.
“Now, please do pay attention, Hermione. It shouldn’t be too hard since your wife is far away. I know that you can’t focus when she is near.”
Hermione suppressed a growl at the comment.
“I only want to tell you this once,” the blonde continued seemingly unaffected by the young witch’s reaction to her mood. “I am trusting you to hang the stars. I want them at various heights below the ceiling. They should be no closer than one meter from the ceiling and no farther than three. I expect it to be accurate and aesthetically pleasing. You will re-do it until I am satisfied.”
“Yes. I am sure I will,” the young witch muttered under her breath unable to contain her irritation.
“I’m sorry, Madame Black, but I couldn’t quite make that out,” the blonde cooed in false affection.
“I will do my very best,” Hermione answered clearly.
“Good. Don’t dally.” Narcissa turned and strode away.
Hermione sighed while looking at the stack of golden stars. She could easily put them all up in one go, but then that would mean that she would have nothing to do for the rest of the evening and that sounded simply disastrous. While there were likely other things to do, it would mean more insensitive commands. Within half an hour she had a dozen of them hung perfectly, or at least so she believed. She was so focused on hanging them, that she didn’t hear the blonde witch approaching her again.
“Is that really all you have managed to get done since I have been gone. And did you even check the heights at all?” Narcissa said immediately launching into a series of criticism.
Hermione tensed at the tone of voice. She had the good sense to tuck her wand into the waistband of her pants lest she break it accidentaly in anger.
“Narcissa,” she warned. When the blonde didn’t stop her diatribe, the young witch turned her back and refocused on the stars. Closing her eyes she lifted them all at once, arranging them quickly.
“Why in Merlin’s name didn’t you just do that to begin with!?” the older witch practically screeched.
“That is quite enough, Cissy. Stop this instant or I will make you.”
“You? You can’t make me do anything.”
The young witch stepped into the blonde’s personal space. She gently pet her hair for a moment before grasping it tightly at the nape of the woman’s neck. “Oh now, Narcissa, not even you believe that. Do you think you can contain yourself enough that we can finish this?”
“I am entirely within control. I don’t appreciate what you are insinuating.”
Hermione suppressed a chuckle. The angle at which she held the woman’s head indicated anything but control. “Then we will deal with this here. Do you think I should be generous and ward this room?”
The blonde scoffed and rolled her eyes. That reaction was the final push that drove the young witch into action. She released the hand in the woman’s hair and swept her feet out from under her. She muttered a spell just in time to keep the woman from hitting the floor hard, but the threat was certainly there. Hermione knelt down, placing a firm hand on the witch’s sternum forcing her flush against the floor as she settled her hips on the blonde’s. She paused to enjoy the shock and lust reflecting in the blue eyes.
“I think I like you this way, Cissy. You look quite nice prostrate on the dance floor.”
“Let me up,” the blonde ground out.
Hermione studied her face quietly before leaning down to capture the soft lips in a searing kiss. “I could let you up. But this will have to be dealt with tonight. Either you can let me determine how to proceed or we can wait for Bella to get back. I am happy to allow her to take care of our little issue.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Narcissa whispered against her lips, leaning up for another rough kiss.
The young witch allowed her to linger for a moment before pulling back. “I most certainly will. I know that Bella has taken you in hand before. I can’t say I wouldn’t enjoy watching. My wife is delightfully devious.” The brunette couldn’t repress the smile at the thought of letting Bella “handle” it. It wasn’t how she saw this playing out, but there were certainly less appealing things to consider. Happily she felt the woman beneath her relax a fraction and she knew that waiting for the dark witch wouldn't be necessary.
“At the very least could you get me up off this hard cold floor?” the blonde demanded. Her voice was thin in a last ditch attempt to grasp control.
“Oh I don’t think so. I think you are precisely where you deserve to be, Narcissa. On the floor on your back. You’ve been rather unmanageable, don’t you agree? And you certainly are in need of an attitude adjustment. So be a good witch.”
The blonde let out a breath and let her eyes drift shut as possessive nimble hands worked at the fastenings of the front of her dress. With seemingly little effort, her chest was exposed and being treated indelicately. She shivered as nails bit into her sides almost hard enough to draw blood.
“You will not hide from me, Narcissa. Open your eyes. You need to know exactly who is handling you this way.”
The blonde whimpered at the force of the words and the actions of the never still hands. Her body was in a near frenzy. Her hips were already rocking fruitlessly up in search of friction. She forced her eyes open. She was met with a knowing and proud smirk, the girl certainly was a Black.
“Are you ready to admit that you need this?” Hermione purred in condescension at the writhing woman.
Narcissa bit her lip to prevent herself from speaking. She needed what Hermione was suffering terribly. In fact, she needed it days ago, but was far too proud to ask for it.
“Narcissa,” the girl said melodically. “Just say the words, and my fingers will be in you. I can make you feel so good. But you have to give in.”
The blonde’s entire body shook with desire and yearning. She fought against her most basic instincts as fingers played across her torso touching everywhere but where she needed it most.
“Merlin, Hermione. Please.”
“Please, what?” the young witch asked playfully.
The older witch paused, trying to find words. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice her skirt was being lifted until two fingers were halfway inside of her and a moan ripped from her lungs.
Hours later the shoppers returned home. They carried with them a surprisingly large number of packages. They found the two witches putting the final touches of the decorations up. There was a collective sigh of relief when Narcissa turned and smiled slightly before returning to her task. Bellatrix walked to her wife, delivering a tender kiss.
“I see you did as I asked,” the dark witch whispered. “I believe that means you deserve a reward.”
Hermione shuddered slightly and melted into the embrace.