Chapter Text
FALL 1994
Hermione wasn’t completely sure what was happening. She was finishing the advanced transfiguration paper due tomorrow in the library when suddenly a gust of silverly blonde hair and deep blue eyes came into view. The girl seized her arm, picked her up from her favorite armchair and brought her to the furthest corner of the room.
“... bonded. I mean, you... I… Merlin!... Both, we’re both bonded.”
Hermione just kept giving her a puzzled look, head tilted to the side, trying to understand what this girl was telling her.
“It’s most definitely not what you’re thinking,” the blonde rambled.
Well, she was thinking nothing, and this was obviously far from being nothing, so...
“You are terribly young and it's not like we don’t have a choice in the matter,” she huffed and ran a hand through her hair. “What I’m just trying to say is that the fact that we’ve bonded doesn’t mean we have to spend the rest of our lives together.”
This is where she had to interrupt, because, a: She was 15 years old, not much younger than she and, b: Spend their lives together? What?
“Ok, so, Fleur. Fleur, right? I’m trying to understand here, we have barely exchanged a couple of words, one of them being ‘bouillabaisse,’ by the way, and suddenly we have to spend the rest of our lives together?”.
Fleur rolled her eyes. ”Are you not listening?” but Hermione just crossed her arms over her chest, furrowing her brow, and leaned on the desk behind her, annoyed by the fact that this girl was questioning her comprehension capabilities. She was starting to feel more and more offended.
Hermione stopped her train of thoughts from going too far, feeling the whole situation bizarre, like a crazy dream. She observed the older girl, letting her eyes, wander to her ethereal silver blonde hair, down to the tiny freckles on the flawless skin of her face, further down to velvety rosy lips, and a bit lower, stopping for a second (… or two) when she discovered revealed skin on her cleavage peeking through the undone buttons of her shirt. She gulped, an uneasy feeling settling in her stomach, she shook her head and chastised herself because she wasn’t going to start behaving like Ronald. She gazed back at the deepest of blue in the blonde’s eyes, her stomach flipping again when their eyes met.
“It’s not...”, Fleur scoffed, “... suddenly. And what I’m saying is precisely that we don’t have to.” She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes, and throwing her head back, exposing the tendons of her neck and Hermione decided that the bookshelf on her left was far more interesting than the ridiculously attractive girl in front of her. She began to idly wonder where all these hot and bothered sensations were coming from.
Fleur exhaled slowly. “It’s a mix between chemistry, biology and odds.” She began again, seemingly calmer, but Hermione had a feeling she was refraining from pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation. “Because I’m a part veela, the way I...” She cleared her throat “... the way we mate is a much more complex process. The magical creature within me is more sensitive to other people’s physiological traits and is constantly seeking for a unique match.”
The French looked down nervously at her hands and Hermione realized that she was having a hard time revealing such personal details of her nature to a complete stranger. She bit her bottom lip and Hermione forced herself to look away again. Merlin, what is with this girl?
“Finding the perfect match is far less common than never finding it so we are able to couple with people that aren’t our 'best suitors.'” She air quoted the last part, but it served the purpose of helping Hermione understand that Fleur appreciated the idea of having a choice.
“What happens if you do find the perfect match?” Hermione asked, feeling rather nervous.
Fleur sighed for the umpteenth time that night, this time the gesture leaving her with a more defeated than frustrated look. She walked toward Hermione to lean on the same desk as the brunette, her hands gripping the edge of the surface as they stood shoulder to shoulder. She fixed her look on her shoes. “You bond. Like you and me.”
Hermione furrowed her brow again. “But - What does that mean?” Fleur’s sudden proximity was making her feel dizzy, and confused, and nervous but also warm, and cozy and… terribly aroused. She turned away from her, but the moment the blonde’s scent hit her nostrils everything became a hundred times more overwhelming. She bolted from the desk to lean against the shelf on the opposite side. Safer, far from that exquisite aroma.
“It means we’re supposedly perfect for each other in all ways possible. Physically, intellectually, emotionally, you name it.” Fleur looked up tiredly and the last rays of sunset coming through the big windows caught her face, the dozens of tiny freckles spread across her cheeks and nose were enhanced by the warm light, turning the dark blue in her eyes to crystal. Hermione was mesmerized and she really hoped Fleur didn’t noticed how she stole her breath away when she finally turned back to her.
The blonde scoffed, shook her head, rolled her eyes and sat up ready to leave. Her face full of contempt once more. “As I said, we can just forget about this and go on with our lives. I just wanted to have the courtesy to tell you because it’s something that affects us both. You’ll long for me, you’ll feel a constant pull towards me. But it is not real, it’s just this stu-…” She adverted her eyes. “… this bond.” She started walking away, towards the corridor between bookshelves leading to the main entrance, Hermione’s chest constricting the farther the blonde became. “Now that you understand the reason behind it, it’ll be easier to ignore it until you stop feeling it at all. Have a nice life.” And she was gone.
SUMMER 1995
Months later, Hermione was pinned against the wall of an empty classroom, her breaths coming out in heavy pants as sweat dripped down her face. It was the beginning of summer and the heat was unbearable.
Viktor Krum was holding her up with strong arms, her legs wrapped around his waist, as he was thrusting into her. She had her arms around his neck, his head nuzzling her with his lips sucking at her pulse point. She was sure this time they were going to get caught, but Viktor insisted, and Hermione had to just keep trying.
It wasn’t like the sex wasn’t good, it really was. He was charming, he never did anything she didn’t allow and was equally determined to achieve her orgasm as much as his. The problem was really in her mind... just in her mind.
“You drive me crazy, Herm-own-ninny” he whispered in her ear and she smiled. All those girls falling at his feet and still he would only look at her, he made her feel very... flattered and grateful and it was endearing how he always gazed at her with those puppy honey eyes, and Hermione wished, she just yearned she could feel the same for him.
After the second task it was clear they were together, and things just developed faster on. He would follow her everywhere, wooing her in the most chivalrous ways, not caring about people seeing how much he was into her. The sex picked up too and he would endeavor to find her every night (or day), different places to worship her body the way he always said she deserved. Sometimes it was a risky broom closet next to the staff room, other times on a blanket behind Hagrid’s hut when he wasn’t around (mostly), empty classrooms, darky halls, all over and over again.
Not everything was carnal, though, he would also sit next to her in the library, keeping her company as she studied or had deep conversations with her about their interests, encouraging her to tell him her dreams and passions.
He truly was the perfect boy and Hermione couldn’t help but think that in another life she would have surrendered to him in a heartbeat. Her heart stolen at 15 by the same man she would happily marry years later... but instead, she was bonded to a girl who would do everything in her power to avoid her.
Hermione pursed her lips and furrowed her brow. If she could only stop seeing her every time she closed her eyes, or every time Viktor kissed her or touched her. It was so infuriating and unfair. She was so annoyed with herself by how little dignity she had. Fleur stated clearly that she didn’t want anything to do with her, she would rather fuck stupid Pansy Parkinson than have a conversation with Hermione, her actual mate. That was enough, Hermione couldn’t stand this anymore.
Viktor was drenched in sweat too, his boyish, handsome features conveying his pleasurable state and if it wasn’t for Hermione’s worried face (unnoticed by him) the scene would have been extremely erotic.
She brushed her fingertips down his bare back and pulled him impossibly closer, knowing this would make him quicken his pace and fuck her harder. He complied, grunting as the force of his thrusts were shaking her each time so she had to steady herself with a good grip on his shoulders. Hermione looked up to the ceiling, struggling to keep her eyes open, focused on feeling him and only him… but her mind was faltering, silky blonde hair and velvet lips starting to flash behind her eyelids.
He moaned loudly and grunted right into her ear. Thinking it back on it, maybe that’s why both failed to hear the door opening. It wasn’t until someone cleared her throat awkwardly that Hermione turned to the door, eyes opened wide and cheeks flushing a bright shade of red. Viktor stilled his movements.
“Sorry to interrupt...” Fleur was standing there, across the room, looking everywhere but them. “Uhm...Viktor? Karkaroff is desperately looking for you. He’s at the champions’ chamber. He’s threatened to start hexing students if you don’t show up soon.”
Viktor looked back at her over his shoulder, gave a sigh of relief and chuckled. “Coming, Fleur. Thanks”. He faced Hermione again and placed her gently back on the floor, he tucked himself in quickly, buttoning his pants and belt. He rushed to pick up their clothes discarded on the floor, handing Hermione her panties before kissing her cheek and whispering “See you later, dear.” He pulled his shirt on as he slipped through the door.
They were alone for the first time since Fleur told her about the bonding and Hermione couldn’t decide if she should be feeling deeply embarrassed by the situation or furious because, how dared Fleur? How dare she ruin her love life just like this? How dare she get her into all this mess and then just leave as if nothing happened? How dare she ignore her? How dare she keep up with her life leaving Hermione with a heart so broken she’d think she’d never recover?
She adjusted her skirt and started buttoning her blouse back up after pushing her underwear inside the pocket of her cardigan. She felt Fleur’s eyes staring at her, following her fingers as they hurriedly did their work and Hermione could only do so much to contain the rage boiling inside her, hating herself once more because she could feel her eyes starting to burn.
She fixed herself up faster, feeling all the time how those deep blue eyes followed her every movement.
Deeply affected by the scrutinizing eyes on her, she couldn’t help it any longer. She had to have some kind of release or else she would implode, so she snapped at the blonde beauty. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” Her tone was harsh and bitter. Hermione met Fleur's eyes and the emotions in there caught her off guard. Anger, incredulity, disgust, hurt and... jealousy?
Hermione finished her blouse and placed her cardigan over her arm. She was ready to leave, but Fleur was leaning against the door, blocking her only exit, looking mad and fierce and hurt and, and, and... breathtakingly beautiful.
Fleur arched a perfect blonde eyebrow. “My, my... you really showed me, huh?”
“I showed you?” Hermione spat out exasperated. “You’re just so full of yourself, aren’t you?” She walked towards her, letting her cardigan drop to the floor, her arms rigid against her sides, hands in tight fists. “You were the one that came to me with all this bonding nonsense. I am the one who should be mad.” Her voice raising intimidatingly, and she almost didn’t notice Fleur charming the door locked. “You were the one that walked away after telling me... oh no, not telling me, commanding me to forget about this and have a nice life.”
She laughed sarcastically stopping a few feet away from Fleur, she needed the distance to keep her mind clear and be able to tell all the things she had been wanting to tell to this stupidly gorgeous woman before her, since that fateful night. “You are the one fucking half the school! You think I don’t know about it? You think I don’t hear what the girls say about you?” Her rage reaching unsuspected levels. “How do you think I feel hearing them say how skilled you’re with your tongue? How do you think it makes me feel hearing that you’re the best fuck they have ever had?” She couldn’t help it, tears were streaming down, she could feel her cheeks so warm she knew her blush was only getting worse. “How do you think it makes me feel to know that you can’t keep your dick in your pants and that you’d rather do literally everyone else but me?”.
Fleur faltered for the slightest second before composing again. “You and I are nothing. I owe nothing to you. I won’t let this nonsensical ancient magic tell me what to do.” She stepped closer to Hermione and automatically looked away and curled her lip in disgust. “Merlín, you reek! He’s all over you,” she pressed the back of her hand to her nose and angled her face further away. “I don’t understand your attitude when this clearly, hasn’t been an issue to you at all. You’re having the time of your life.” Fleur gestured to the corner where she had found her and Viktor.
Hermione noticed the heavier than usual accent in her voice, more h’s missing here and there with an occasional z slipping. She knew Fleur wasn’t as composed as she was trying to seem, and this revelation made her stomach leap.
“The time of my life!?” She asked incredulously. The nerve of this woman who had been haunting her for months, appearing around every corner. “You think I’ve been enjoying myself all this time? You think I rejoice in the fact that I just can’t feel anything with my boyfriend?” Without realizing it she walked the few steps between she and Fleur, cornering her with the blonde’s back against the door, Fleur’s hand dropped by her side, with Hermione pushing forward she had no choice but to look back at her.
“I’m so confused. I don’t know where all these… feelings for you came.” Hermione pressed her forehead against Fleur’s, her eyes closing. The rage, the hurt, the sadness, all the feelings dulling now that she had the blonde near her. “You think I’m happy when he’s kissing me, and the only thing I wish for is your lips to be the ones brushing against mine?” The tips of their noses were touching, and Hermione would’ve sworn she was in heaven breathing Fleur’s mouth-watering scent.
“You think I’m happy yearning for you every night on my bed?” Hermione’s voice was barely a whisper.
Fleur growled deeply in her throat and snapped her eyes opened. In a sudden move and proving surprising strength, she swiftly wrapped one of her arms around Hermione’s waist and hoisted her up. The brunette gave a surprised whimper, her legs wrapping automatically around the blonde as her arms circled her long, slender neck. She carried them forward to the last row of desks, settling Hermione down on the wood surface, one of her hands going the back of the other girl’s neck to bring their foreheads back together. Hermione was panting, her heart beating wildly against her ribcage.
“I can’t stand you smelling of him. I can’t...” Fleur trailed off, she tilted the younger witch’s head back to fully expose her neck, Hermione panicked a little because she knew Viktor had been marking her earlier and surely there would be some bruises on her skin. Fleur found them, her nostrils flaring and her eyes turning almost dark before closing them and leaning down. She possessively licked each spot marked on Hermione’s skin.
Hermione purred, delighted in their closeness, already lost in Fleur’s tongue and scent. She arched her back, pushing her torso against Fleur’s. “Touch me...” she breathed, her body aching to feel Fleur’s hands, she wrapped her legs higher around the older witch and pulled her closer, Hermione’s bare core brushing against Fleur’s trousers, the bulge of the champion’s erection pressing against her and making her terribly, deliciously wet.
“… own me,” Hermione begged simple words and yet they carried so much power. Fleur ripped her shirt open, buttons flying all over the classroom. She dove to Hermione’s chest, pushing up her bra and taking one of her hard nipples into her mouth. Hermione moaned loudly, so dizzy, so drunk on Fleur.
“Why are you making this so difficult? Why couldn’t you just stay away? Why did it have to be you?” Fleur murmured between bites and kisses. Hermione groaned, pushed Fleur away just enough to be able to reach between her legs and start unbuttoning her pants as her mouth found the divine skin on Fleur’s neck.
“Shut up, shut up… just shut up.” Her hand slipped down Fleur’s briefs, grabbing her hard member, stroking all the length up and own. Fleur growled again, she caught her wrist in a swift move and stepped away from Hermione. The Gryffindor opened her mouth to protest but she was being dragged off the desk, her legs trembling the moment her feet made contact with the floor. Fleur grabbed her waist and made her turn around. Realization caught into Hermione, and before she knew it she felt the tip of Fleur’s dick pressing on her entrance as the blonde’s hand pushed her down on the desk, her naked chest gracing the surface.
Hermione barely had time to grab onto something before Fleur entered her with a sharp thrust. Both screaming in pleasure at the sensation, Hermione already on the verge of orgasm. Fleur fill her so perfectly, she felt so warm, so hard, so far within her, her inner walls already clinging to it, wanting to keep it in as much as possible.
Fleur started pumping into her and Hermione lost everything. Fleur's hands on her hips, the friction, how her dick would touch that spot inside her that made her toes curl, she never knew this kind of pleasure before. Viktor who?
The noises coming out of Fleur’s mouth were music to Hermione’s ears. She had never been so aroused in her life; she could practically feel her wetness dripping down her legs. She started pushing her hips back to meet Fleur’s thrusts.
Hermione pushed her torso up with the help of her arms, her back arching as her head came to rest on Fleur’s shoulder, her eyes half-opened searching for the blonde’s. Fleur moaned at the change of positions and wrapped her arms around Hermione’s waist pulling her impossibly closer, her hips keeping up the pace, pushing in and out of the tiny brunette.
“More… give me more.” Hermione whimpered; her gaze fixed on the blonde’s mouth. One of Fleur’s hands reached up to catch one of Hermione’s breast, squeezing, massaging, alternating between pinching her nipple. Hermione closed her eyes, unable to keep them opened any more, feeling so close to falling off the edge. “Honey… please.” She clearly wasn’t thinking anymore.
“… fuck.” Fleur groaned, her free hand going down between Hermione’s legs, nimbly finding her clit, and rubbing circles. Her whole body basically carrying Hermione as her legs buckled with Fleur’s ministrations. The blonde quickened the pace of her hips and sunk her teeth on Hermione’s shoulder.
Hermione came undone. It was all, it was everything… so deliciously overwhelming. Her walls clenched tight around Fleur’s member, she felt rather than heard the blonde grunt against her shoulder as she gave one more final thrust and stilled her hips deep inside Hermione. Her orgasm spilling so warm, so perfect within the brunette.
They stayed liked that for a couple of seconds before Fleur gently pulled out. Making sure Hermione was balanced on her feet, she stepped away and turned around, already cleaning and fixing herself up.
Hermione stood there a few moments longer, her mind catching up with everything that had happened. She fixed her skirt and adjusted her bra, she was going to start buttoning her blouse, for the second time this day, in this place, when she realized the garment was ruined; She could spot some buttons on the floor.
She looked up to Fleur to say something but stopped when she realized the blonde was already looking perfect and pristine as always, standing right in front of her with her arm stretched offering a baby blue jacket with the Beauxbatons coat of arms on the front... but her eyes were fixed on a spot behind Hermione.
The brunette didn’t say anything in the end. She took the cardigan from Fleur’s hands and slipped it on. Fleur allowed her eyes to look at her for a second, then turned around, waved her wand at the door, and walked out of the room without saying a single word to Hermione.
The school year ended, and Hermione barely saw Fleur again, let alone spoke to her. The only reminder of her encounter was the baby blue jacket, with the Beauxbatons coat of arms safely hidden in Hermione’s trunk.