Work Text:
The impatient speed at which Hermione typed the last sentences of her History supervision was telling. Not that writing about the witch trials and the mechanics of moral panic in early modern Europe was a boring subject—not at the very least—but this week had been long, and Hermione was desperate for a pick-me-up.
As soon as the essay was sent on its merry way, Hermione rubbed her eyes and stumbled into the kitchen. Unperturbed by the darkness of October dusk drowning her studio apartment, she rummaged in the cupboard for a bottle of wine, popped it open, poured some red into a glass. Feeling a little wicked, she eyed the blue glow of her laptop and took a hearty gulp of wine. Her blood was already draining south.
She had been single for two years now, since she moved to Cambridge to pursue a degree after a decade spent rebuilding the wizarding world. Hermione eventually realised she'd achieved nearly everything she'd once thought she wanted. The trouble was that none of it felt entirely like hers. So, she broke things off with Ron, packed her bags, and disappeared into the muggle world to chase her earthly, human dreams.
Regardless, however satisfying this new chapter of her life was, she hadn’t had much luck with dating yet. Thankfully, the wonders of muggle technology offered an acceptable range of compromises.
Hermione carried her bottle and glass to the desk, put it down. Leaning over her laptop, she navigated to the browser, typed, pressed enter. The blues and purples of the Woozichat homepage filled the screen. Content, she rushed to change her clothes, eagerly wrapping a kimono robe around herself.
"Alright," she sighed sharply, determined, as she spared the mirror a glance to confirm her choice before needlessly tousling her already unruly hair.
Sitting down at the desk, she took a sip again, then manoeuvred her mouse over the ‘connect’ button and clicked. As she waited to be connected to a chat with a random stranger, she observed the live feed of her own webcam. She adjusted the angle so the camera caught her only from the neck down, then pulled the tie of her silk robe tighter to remain properly covered.
On her screen, a man appeared. He, too, was hiding his face. His red graphic t-shirt took up most of the view of his webcam. Hermione didn’t need to squint to read—it said ‘Keep Calm and Neck Pints’ in bold, white letters. Hermione sighed, then clicked ‘skip’ to exit this chat and connect to a new one. Sipping on her wine as she waited, she was absently hoping to converse with a woman.
Woozichat was an intriguing, lawless sort of place. As a muggle online random video chat platform specifically for adults, it provided a convenient way to socialize or let off some steam when in urgent need. It wasn’t a site she frequented often—this was probably her fifth time over the past several months—and it wasn’t a particularly elegant solution, nor was it the most efficient in any meaningful sense. Nonetheless, it removed a lot of the usual friction associated with proper dating and, at the end of the day, it got the job done.
But not without some obligatory filtering of rubbish…
Her current chat partner’s camera was directed straight up. All she could see was the white popcorn ceiling and a spinning fan. Skip.
A new window loaded. It was entirely dark. She could barely discern the contours of someone’s silhouette. A low male voice said, "Hey." Hermione scowled. Skip.
Now, it was a group of three young women, all huddled together to fit the screen. They looked nice, rather giggly. Hermione contemplated typing something, but the women suddenly disconnected.
A new window loaded. Some guy was wanking himself off. Skip.
This time, it was a woman. She was alone, brightly lit, the angle of her camera high as if her computer was placed on a low coffee table. She wore a striped jumper and she wasn’t hiding her face. It was framed by long, straight blonde hair, her big, brown eyes staring curiously at the screen. She seemed friendly, even cute, though probably younger. The woman leaned in to type.
Stranger: Hello :)
You: Hi!
You: I like your hair
Stranger: Thank you!
You: How are you?
Stranger: I’m good! You?
You: Likewise
You: What brings you here?
Stranger: Just checking this out
You: First time?
Stranger: LOL! Yes!
Stranger: Not first time for you?
You: Not really
Stranger: It’s crazy here!
You: I know…
You: It’s quite an odd little corner of the internet haha
Stranger: LOL!
Stranger: What keeps you coming back?
You: Some people I’ve met here were nice! Fun to chat with.
You: Though it definitely takes a while to find them
Stranger: I’ve noticed LOL
Stranger: You seem nice though!
You: Thanks, you too!
Stranger: Do you want to undress?
Hermione scrunched her eyebrows. She didn’t particularly feel like it, at least not yet.
You: Not sure…
You: Maybe later?
Stranger: LOL!
You: Is this what you want?
Stranger: Sure!
Stranger: I can show you my boobs too
Hermione allowed herself a weary sigh. Maybe she was a little old-fashioned—which was an absurd conclusion to be forced to make, considering the circumstances—but she liked to start off with some dialogue and flirting, to get to know the stranger a little, to set the mood, warm things up… This young woman, however, was making Hermione feel like a zoo animal. Not uncommon on this website, but still not preferred.
You: Maybe you could tell me more about yourself first?
Stranger: You want to talk?
You: For now - yes!
Stranger: I’m sorry
Stranger: You’re nice!
Stranger: But I think I’ll skip now
Stranger: Sorry!
You: That’s ok!
Stranger: LOL!
Stranger: Ok bye!
She disconnected. Hermione took a deep breath, both overwhelmed and understimulated at the same time. But this site was not a place to take rejection personally.
She continued skipping through chatrooms for a while. More peculiar men and women, more groups of friends, more genitals… Her wine glass was empty, so she refilled it. On her screen, some bloke was juggling six tennis balls in front of the camera. Impressive… but skip.
As the screen was loading, she swallowed more wine. The anticipation in her belly was slowly growing cold. Skipping past a live feed of someone’s forehead, Hermione was beginning to contemplate whether this was a productive use of her evening. Then again, judging by her previous experience, Woozichat had always been an exercise in persistence.
The screen connected to a new chatroom. The stranger’s webcam feed loaded. A woman was now sitting across from her, her camera angled much like Hermione’s. All Hermione could see were her shoulders, arms, and torso. She was sitting at a desk, the room behind her smothered in darkness, just like Hermione’s. One of the straps of her white cami top was casually off her shoulder, and a black lace bra peeked from beneath the low neckline. She had a bob cut, only the ends of her dark hair visible against her neck. A delicate necklace rested right below her collarbone.
The woman’s arms reached to type.
Stranger: hey hey
Out of habit, Hermione’s mouse cursor hovered over the ‘skip’ button for a few more seconds as she evaluated her interest in this stranger. Intrigued, however, she moved the cursor away and clicked on the chat box instead.
You: Hi
The woman didn’t seem in a hurry to respond. Hermione felt watched by her. The same way she was watching the woman, trying to wordlessly read her.
Stranger: i love what you’re wearing
Stranger: is that a kimono?
You: Yes
You: Thank you!
Stranger: looks lovely on you
Stranger: not to mention the stunning head of hair
You: Thanks!
Hermione’s fingers hesitated over the keyboard, wondering how to compliment the woman back. The peeking bra was currently the most noticeable part of her appearance—aside from the general fact that she looked fit as hell—but Hermione felt it was too early to give that away.
You: I like your outfit too
Stranger: im glad :)
Stranger: so
Stranger: how has your night been?
You: It’s been alright
You: I’ve skipped through a lot of chats, getting somewhat tired
You: But otherwise I’m having a relaxing evening
You: Drinking wine
You: You?
Stranger: thats very relatable lol
Stranger: having to skip through all the wankers
You: Exactly haha
Stranger: that aside though your evening sounds wonderful
Stranger: love a good wine
You: What about you? How’s your night?
Stranger: better now :)
An abrupt chuckle pushed its way out through Hermione’s lips.
You: Smooth talker, I see
You: What are you looking for here?
The woman paused for a moment to think before responding.
Stranger: stimulation is probably the best word for it
You: Hm…
You: Bit of a double meaning, no?
Stranger: sharp ;)
Stranger: what about you?
You: Might say the same thing…
You: But mostly hoping for good conversation
Stranger: i’ll take your word for it ;)
Stranger: can i ask how old you are?
You: Yes, I’m 30
Stranger: ok cool! im 29
You: Nice!
You: Where are you from?
Stranger: i live in france but im from england originally
You: I’m from England too!
Stranger: oh neat!
Stranger: where exactly?
You: Currently in Cambridge but grew up in North London
You: Where in England are you from?
Stranger: wiltshire
You: Got it
You: I've only really been to Salisbury
Stranger: not missing much lol
Stranger: what brought you to cambridge?
You: School
Stranger: cambridge university?
You: Yes!
Stranger: ha
Stranger: doctorate?
You: No… Still doing my Bachelor’s
You: I started late
Stranger: thats very impressive
Stranger: what do you study?
You: History
Stranger: stunning AND smart?
Stranger: t’es dangereuse toi
Hermione understood she was calling her trouble.
You: Just playing my part
Stranger: i can see that
You: I was actually working on an essay just before this
Stranger: what about?
You: About witch hunts and societies creating internal enemies during periods of uncertainty, that sort of thing
Stranger: hmm thats interesting
Stranger: you like witches?
Hermione couldn’t help a knowing grin.
You: I may be partial…
Stranger: noted ;)
Hermione was giggling to herself. If only this woman knew…
You: Living in France must be nice?
Stranger: sure is
Stranger: ever been?
You: Yes, a few times, mostly with my family
You: As a kid
You: But great memories
Stranger: well, if you’re ever in the area…
You: In the area of… France?
Stranger: lol
Stranger: yes
Stranger: you know, the general vicinity
You: Of course
You: If I’m ever in the general vicinity of France, I’ll make sure to look for a… nameless, faceless woman?
Stranger: yes, in a tank top
Stranger: with her bra sticking out
You: Got it
Hermione could see the woman’s chest shake with soft laughter.
Stranger: and if im ever in cambridge
Stranger: i’ll scout for the kimono, yes?
You: Yes, you can try
Stranger: well listen
Stranger: i was planning to go to london in december
Stranger: and one thing to know about me
Stranger: is that im a hopeless romantic
Stranger: and i would most positively make a detour for someone i met on woozi
Stranger: so
Stranger: you know
Stranger: be careful what you wish for ;)
You: I see
You: Threatening me with a good time?
Stranger: lol touche
You: :)
Stranger: im in trouble tho if a beige kimono is all im working with…
Stranger: does the mysterious beautiful funny smart kimono woman have a name?
Hermione’s name was a unique one. She wasn’t comfortable giving it away. Her middle name, however…
You: Ambitious flattery…
You: But you can call me Jean
Stranger: lovely
Stranger: nice to meet you Jean
Stranger: i just go by P.
Stranger: if thats ok with you
You: Of course
You: Nice to meet you too, P.
Stranger: :)
You: How did you end up in France?
Stranger: moved together with my mum when i was 18
You: Why?
Stranger: lets just say things werent great for us in england
Stranger: so im glad we moved
You: Fair enough
Hermione wanted to ask her more—about England, about her father—but the way P. phrased it suggested she wasn’t keen on the subject, so Hermione refrained.
You: What do you do now?
Stranger: i do fashion photography
You: Wow
You: Sounds glamorous
Stranger: lol you wouldn’t think so if you saw my studio
Stranger: but its fun
Stranger: we also do experimental shoots with my friends sometimes
You: I’d love to see that
Stranger: maybe model too, no? ;)
You: haha
You: I don’t know about that…
Stranger: sleep on it ;)
You: Fine
You: But don’t get too hopeful
Stranger: je peux attendre
Hermione had to stop herself from shaking her head at P.’s inability to bite her French tongue. P., meanwhile, was swiveling in her chair as she contemplated her next message.
Stranger: can i dare assume you’re enjoying our conversation?
You: Maybe…
You: Possibly
Stranger: coy
You: Bold of you
You: I might still be weighing it…
Stranger: fair enough
Stranger: in that case
Stranger: whats a girl gotta do to secure your attention, Jean?
Hermione licked her lips, ideas rushing through her head. Most of them were lewd. To be fair, this was kind of the point… On the other hand, P. was proving herself to be a delightful flirt, and Hermione wanted to take her sweet time with it. So she granted herself almost a minute to try to come up with an answer. P. was waiting very patiently, swivelling leisurely in her chair. Her fingers started slowly toying with the pendant of her necklace. Hermione could now see P.’s nails were painted wine red.
You: To be honest
You: I can’t say you’re doing a bad job at that…
P.’s hand moved from her necklace to the keyboard.
Stranger: im flattered, Jean
Stranger: although…
You: What?
Stranger: im afraid you might be missing out
You: What do you mean?
Stranger: i was willing to entertain your options
You: It sounds like you’re offering?
Stranger: :)
Stranger: i reckon not anymore
You: Oh no…
You: Did I lose my privileges?
Stranger: maybe :)
Stranger: for now
Stranger: you can win them back
You: Really?
You: What’s a girl gotta do?
Stranger: lol
Stranger: i like you Jean
Hermione became aware of the tension in her cheeks. She must have been smiling this entire time. She had completely forgotten her wine. She took a sip now, licking her lips afterwards.
Stranger: lets see…
Stranger: one question has been bugging me
Stranger: maybe you can answer it?
You: Let’s hear it
Stranger: we keep talking about this kimono…
Stranger: but is there anything underneath it?
Hermione felt her skin shiver slightly. It was a good sign. This was fun.
You: What do you think?
Stranger: okay
Stranger: well
Stranger: if your words were to be trusted
Stranger: that you’re here just looking for a good conversation before bed
Stranger: then yes
Stranger: maybe a cute nifhtgown or something
Stranger: *nightgown
Stranger: but i wouldnt bet on that…
You: Sensible
Stranger: so
Stranger: just the kimono then?
You: Correct.
P. paused for a moment. In her mind, Hermione tried to imagine the woman smirking, or maybe biting her lip…
Stranger: well, Jean
Stranger: its out in the open then
You: What is?
Stranger: your intentions
You: Is that so?
Stranger: it is
You: Hm
You: Isn’t it what everyone is here for?
Stranger: no no Jean
Stranger: no excuses :(
You: Come on…
Stranger: :)
In Hermione’s book, this Woozichat session was already proving itself to be a success. P.’s teasing was making her skin prickle and flush in the most pleasant of ways. Though it could partly be the wine, too… She drank some more of it, keeping her inhibitions strictly at bay.
P. now crossed her arms and reclined in her chair. Intrigued, Hermione watched her for a second, wondering what P. was trying to do. But P. remained where she was.
You: So what now?
P. uncrossed her arms to type.
Stranger: you tell me
Stranger: youre the one with intentions
You: But you’re awfully mistaken
Stranger: how so
Stranger: Jean, you’re sitting there in front of me
Stranger: naked
You: Naked??
You: You have X-ray vision now?
You: Does the kimono mean nothing to you??
Stranger: right… the infamous kimono
Stranger: i didnt mean to insult The Kimono, i sincerely apologize
Stranger: its doing gods work, i gotta give it that…
Stranger: the only thing protecting you Jean from utter indecency ;)
Hermione was shaking her head with amusement at such preposterous accusations. Even though they weren’t entirely inaccurate.
Stranger: thats right, you shake your head
Stranger: what would cambridge think… ;)
You: I think Cambridge would agree I should click skip… :)
Stranger: gasp
Stranger: you wouldnt…
Stranger: not after all weve been through Jean??
You: I’m just about to click the button…
Stranger: no
You: Any last words?
Stranger: Jean :(
Stranger: no!
Stranger: not the wankers again
Stranger: i'll do anything
Hermione chuckled, watching P.’s shoulders square with seemingly genuine alarm.
You: Anything, you say?..
Stranger: for you absolutely
Hermione was swaying her leg under the desk, muscles itching with thrill. Her brain was filling with dirty thoughts again. She drained the rest of her wine for courage—she felt she needed it… Again, this wasn’t her first time, and this was perfectly anonymous since neither of them showed their faces or shared their real names, yet P. was making her feel giddy and nervous in a way she hadn’t felt with anyone in quite a while, stranger or not.
She allowed herself to actually consider. Her desires were nothing sophisticated—she wanted a glimpse under the stranger’s clothes, naturally. No more purpose in being modest.
You: Push your bra down.
Hermione held her breath. Despite feeling moderately confident, she still hoped P. wouldn’t take offence. She waited nervously for P. to digest the request.
Stranger: mm
Stranger: you want to see my tits Jean?
You: I do…
You: If you’re open to it, of course
Stranger: im open
P. hesitated for a moment, mostly to tease, Hermione was certain. Then she moved deliberately and painstakingly slowly as she left the keyboard and straightened her back. The woman knew exactly how to keep Hermione transfixed. P. pushed her chest a little forward, then slid her hands across her shoulders. One by one, she tugged the four thin straps of her top and bra down her shoulders as leisurely as humanly possible. P.’s fingers traced the lines of her collarbones, then lazily trailed down her chest, skilfully building anticipation. Hermione watched without blinking. P.’s fingertips danced across the edges of her peeking bra, hooking nails under the cups only to feel it around and retreat again. Hermione couldn’t hold it anymore.
You: You’re tormenting me
P.’s chest quaked as she huffed. Finally content with the amount of torture administered, P. took proper hold of the lace and pulled the bra down. Her breasts slipped free with a gentle bounce. Hermione swallowed. P. leaned back toward her keyboard, her chest still perfectly in view, layers of fabric bunched below it.
Stranger: did i do it right?
You: I feel a little toyed with
You: So yes, I suppose you did
Stranger: :)
You: You’re very beautiful…
Stranger: im pleased you like them
Stranger: have i earned some more of your attention?
You: Absolutely.
You: Are you going to use it wisely?
Stranger: im certainly going to try
Stranger: do you have any more requests?
You: I can think of some…
Stranger: tell me
Hermione reached for her courage but she had forgotten the glass was empty.
You: I think I’ll need more wine…
Stranger: you might be right
Hermione leaned away to grab the bottle on her desk, then refilled her glass. After taking a hearty gulp, vibrating with excitement below the surface, she got comfortable and adjusted her kimono to ensure she was decent (whatever that meant). P. was sitting as she was, her beautiful chest bright in the blue light of her screen.
Stranger: wine refilled?
You: Yes
Stranger: you know, i was thinking…
Stranger: feels a little unfair now to be the only one exposed
Stranger: however much i do enjoy it
Stranger: dont you agree?
You: Perhaps…
You: It’s true that I prefer things fair
Stranger: thats what ive figured
You: So what do you suggest?
Stranger: well…
You: You’re not about to be insulting my kimono again, are you, P.?
P.’s breasts bobbed a little with her laughing.
Stranger: oh the kimono…
Stranger: a cockblock, if i may
You: You may not
Stranger: Jean!
Stranger: i remind you
Stranger: it is unfair
Stranger: and as a woman of principles
You: Hey
You: You’re the one who accused me of terrible indecencies, don’t you remember?
Stranger: yes, i remember
Stranger: terrible indecencies
Stranger: awful even
Stranger: feels only fair to level the playing field?
You: Hm…
You: Alright
You: I am open to POTENTIALLY reevaluating the necessity of the kimono.
Stranger: :)
You: HOWEVER
You: It won’t come free.
Stranger: deal
Stranger: done
Stranger: name the price
You: Surprise me.
P. reclined in her chair, chest on display. She sat lingering for a while, swivelling unhurriedly from side to side. Hermione sipped on her wine, patiently eager.
After a moment, P. shifted forward again, now pushing herself closer to the screen. She leaned toward the camera and raised a hand to her face, lowering her head just enough for her mouth to enter the top of the frame. Hermione’s breath hitched at the reveal of P.’s full, captivating lips. The mouth parted, and P. dragged two painted fingers against the tip of her tongue. Hermione felt her heart rate quicken.
P. continued, licking and sucking her fingers until they gleamed slick. Hermione shifted in her seat and felt a similar wetness blooming between her thighs. Then, P. leaned back once more, careful to keep her face out of view, and brought those fingers to her right nipple. She drew a few lazy circles around it, the webcam catching only a fleeting glimmer of moisture. She brought her left hand to cup her other breast and squeezed it tenderly.
You: Take it off…
P. paused as she read, then did as told with no reluctance, lifting her top over her head before reaching behind to unhook the bra. Black lace fell onto her lap. At this moment, Hermione couldn’t fully see what exactly P. was wearing below the frame; the restricted view created the illusion that she was entirely naked, except for the silver necklace.
You: God
You: You do look beautiful…
Stranger: ah ouais?
Stranger: you like watching me?
You: Yes
You: I’d like you to keep going
Stranger: doing what?
You: Touching yourself.
P. eased back into the chair. Her hand drifted down the stretched length of her neck, the chain of her necklace rolling as her fingers dragged across her collarbone. They continued their slow descent, wandering across her bare chest toward one of the nipples. She brushed it barely, a whisper of a touch, then rounded it about, then grazed the tip again. Taking it between her thumb and forefinger, she gave it a squeeze and a solid tug before releasing. Hermione stirred, imagining the sensation. P. brought her other hand up and twisted her opposite nipple. She fondled her breasts for a while, her body moving in a slow, billowing rhythm, with her back arching subtly and her chest betraying heavy breathing. One hand trailed down her ribs, across her stomach, over her navel. It continued traveling downward until it slipped out of frame. Hermione swallowed hard, her own body tensing as if to mirror P.’s.
You: Does it feel good?
Stranger: yes
Stranger: not bored yet?
You: No, not at all…
Stranger: then do us both a service Jean
Stranger: get rid of it
You: The kimono?
You: Just like that?
Stranger: yes
You: What if I…
Two could play this game. Hermione allowed her fingers to run along the edge of her robe tie. She pulled smoothly at its end, letting the silky fabric unknot and fall. The front of her kimono opened just a sliver.
Stranger: ur gonna edge me arent you
Stranger: alright
Stranger: i have all night
Hermione chuckled. She pushed her chair back a foot, allowing more of her body to be visible to the camera. P. reclined again, draping her arm along the backrest of her chair as though settling in for the show. P.’s position screamed nonchalance, yet her nipples stayed hard.
Hermione eased the front of her kimono a little bit more open, just enough for her cleavage and soft belly to emerge into view. The thin, watery fabric dragged softly against her own hardened nipples. She could see that the webcam was picking up on that, on the shadows of two distinct peaks beneath the silk. She put her fingertips on them and rubbed tentatively.
Stranger: unfair
Stranger: i want to see them
Keeping her hands on her breasts, Hermione shimmied to urge the kimono to slide down. Shoulders now bare, she continued kneading her chest slowly through the fabric. The feeling between her legs was growing warmer.
Stranger: ready whenever you are, Jean
Hermione smirked in spite of herself. She let her hands fall, and the fabric followed, gliding effortlessly down her body. The sudden brush of plain air made her acutely aware of how hot her skin had become. She sat still now, except for her chest rising and falling with every breath.
Stranger: shit
Stranger: you’re so my type
Hermione scooted toward her laptop to type.
You: That’s a good thing?
Stranger: very
Stranger: to the point its becoming problematic
You: Why is that?
Stranger: its making me needy
Stranger: how much i wish to do ungodly things to you…
Hermione’s stomach clenched with shivers. She returned P.’s feelings. The wine—amongst other things—was making her dizzy, and the wet stain on the kimono fabric that was still under her bum was growing larger by the second.
You: Like what?
Stranger: where do i begin…
You: Maybe I can help
Stranger: unfortunately you cant bite your own nipples for me
Stranger: (however much id love to see you try lol)
Stranger: and you cant sit on my face
Stranger: but there is still a lot you can do…
You: Sounds promising…
Stranger: yeah?
Stranger: do i have your consent to keep going?
You: You have my consent
Stranger: will you let me know if i ever cross a boundary?
Stranger: or if you want something particular?
You: Absolutely. I’ll speak up if needed.
Stranger: perfect.
P.’s webcam feed started moving as P. adjusted her camera to allow more of her body to be in view. Hermione could now see a dark pair of jeans hugging P.’s hips tightly, a leather belt with a large round buckle low on her waist.
Stranger: better?
You: Certainly
Hermione paused to contemplate her own setup. She decided she wanted to be in bed. So she quickly put the robe back on—
Stranger: hey!
—took the laptop, keeping it close to herself so the camera wouldn’t accidentally give something away. Naturally, she almost tripped over the charging cable. She fumbled with it so it would reach her bed, then got onto the sheets and set the laptop down in front of her.
Stranger: i see
Stranger: good idea
She had to readjust the screen to find a more flattering camera angle. She got comfortable, but still kept the kimono on because more of her body was in view now and she was feeling defenceless again.
You: There
You: Is this good?
Stranger: very much
You: Good
Stranger: are you settled?
You: I think so
Stranger: great
Stranger: i like it here
Stranger: are those pansies on your bedsheets?
Hermione glanced at the flowery pattern of her bedding. Indeed, there were a lot of pansies on it, amongst other flowers.
You: Yes!
Stranger: thats crazy
Stranger: look
P. leaned in toward the camera, her pendant between her fingers, giving it a close-up look. Hermione now saw that the pendant was, in fact, a silver pansy flower.
You: What!
You: I didn’t expect us to be matching?
Stranger: i know right
Stranger: meant to be, no?
You: Must be?
Stranger: you have no idea
You: Is there more to it?
Stranger: you could say that
Stranger: but id rather stay focused on the more pressing matters
Stranger: the bed sheets are lovely
Stranger: cant wait to see you spread out on them
This sent sparks down to Hermione’s groin again.
You: Are you planning to lose those jeans?
Stranger: yes if it would please you
You: It would
Stranger: are you planning to lose the goddamn kimono?
Stranger: i cant believe im still fighting it
You: It’s a losing battle
Stranger: so im realizing
Stranger: dont make me fight it…
You: Fine
You: It shall never bother us again.
Hermione slipped out of the robe and dropped it to the floor. She was naked now, but she kept her thighs discreetly closed.
Stranger: the relief i feel is indescribable
Stranger: fuck you’re completely naked
Stranger: im sweating like a cowboy
Hermione was laughing.
You: Cowboy better unbuckle
P. was laughing, too, judging from the shake of her chest.
Stranger: yes milady
P. made sure her crotch was in view. She unfastened the buckle, then unzipped her jeans.
Stranger: what next?
You: Take them off, of course
P. hooked her thumbs under the waistband, lifted her hips so she could drag the jeans down her bum, and then rolled and kicked them down until her legs were free. The only garment left on her was a pair of black underwear. P. kept her legs subtly spread and brought her fingers to her crotch, swiping against it before returning to the keyboard.
Stranger: im soaked, Jean
Hermione was breathing faster. Suddenly all of this started feeling very real. Like it wasn’t just a temporary pretend world, with faceless nameless characters and zero consequences. Something heavier was pressing in—the faint but undeniable weight of reality edging its way through the illusion. This awareness made every cell of her vibrate. This was happening. She could feel a string of arousal dripping to her inner thigh.
Stranger: you okay?
You: Yes
Stranger: can i ask…
You: Yes?
Stranger: do you have any interest at all in turning our mics on?
Too real. Too real.
You: I can’t…
You: Mine’s broken
It was true.
Stranger: i understand
Stranger: okay
You: I prefer no mics
Stranger: okay
Stranger: perfectly cool with me
Stranger: seeing you Jean is more than enough
You: Likewise…
Stranger: yeah?
Stranger: do you want to see me naked?
You: Yes
Stranger: okay
Stranger: but im going to make you work for it
Stranger: do you understand?
You: Yes
You: What do you want
Stranger: i already said it
Stranger: i want to see you spread out
Hermione’s hips were moving involuntarily. The need for friction between her legs was growing unbearable. It was worth it, doing it in front of the camera, just to finally provide herself some relief.
Hermione drew in a slow, steadying breath, though it felt like breathing fire. She shifted, easing her back against the pillows while continuing to make sure her face stayed out of frame. Still, she hesitated for a short minute, keeping her legs closed, feeling the swollen heat between them.
Stranger: let me see you
After sending that message, P. relaxed in her chair, her hand between her thighs, fingertips moving across the apparently soaked black cotton.
Hermione delayed just for a moment, the tingles of apprehension coursing through her. Once that was done, there would be nothing else to hide anymore except for her identity.
Slowly, Hermione let her legs fall open.
Stranger: fuck
She watched herself on the screen. It was giving quite an elaborate view of her, glistening with arousal. She felt her insides achingly throb.
Stranger: i wish i could do it myself
Stranger: but im going to ask you to touch yourself Jean
Stranger: i want to watch you
Stranger: and see how you like to be touched
As if charmed, Hermione guided her hand south. Her fingers treaded path along her inner thighs, teasing her nerve endings. Her hand ghosted across the trimmed curls and mapped the boundaries of the spread of her arousal.
Stranger: so wet…
Stranger: fuckkhj
Painfully lightly, Hermione traced the edges of her folds, twitching at her own touch. Her mouth fell open to accommodate increased need for oxygen. The slickness under her fingertips had grown outrageously rich. She continued sliding her finger along her lower lips, higher now as to brush over her clit. Twitching again, she sighed to herself, fascinated with her own responsiveness.
Stranger: t'as vraiment envie de moi hein
P. abandoned the keyboard again. She slipped her right hand under her knickers. Due to the distance between Hermione and her laptop, she couldn’t discern as much detail as she might’ve wanted, but she could still see P.’s fingers moving, knuckles brushing beneath the fabric.
The idea was making Hermione lightheaded, P. watching her and touching herself in return. Again, this was not Hermione’s first rodeo, but it had never felt this personal and intimate before. Hermione did genuinely wish P. was here right now. She wished she could glide her hands all over P.’s chest and hips and stomach, or feel P.’s breath between her legs. Hermione was rubbing her fingertip up and down her slit, still slow, but she imagined it was P.’s tongue instead.
Wanting to make sure P. witnessed everything, Hermione used her fingers to stretch her folds apart. Her entrance felt desperately open. So much anticipation was spilling out of her.
Stranger: fuck yourself for me
Shuddering, Hermione pushed the tip of her finger down between her lips and then inside. She started working it in and out, millimetre by millimetre, going deeper and deeper with every stroke. Her muscles were burning with pleasure. She did her best not to hurry, so as to enjoy it longer, but she had become so sensitive that a slow pace was barely any safer.
Overwhelmed with sensations, Hermione almost didn’t notice P. push her underwear down.
"God," Hermione breathed to herself, watching P. open her legs, putting herself as much on display as the camera angle permitted.
Hermione kept her eyes glued to the screen. P. was groping her breast with her left hand and stroking herself with her right. She was curling her back and bucking her hips in fluid motion, making a generous spectacle of her pleasure.
Inspired and panting, Hermione built up her pace, pushing her finger ever so deeper and feeling it slide across her clit every time on the way out. She regretted her broken microphone right about now. Though she mostly wished she could hear the sounds P. was making.
P. took a quick break to type.
Stranger: im losing my midn jean
Stranger: and getting close
Stranger: are you?
Stranger: thrust your hips for yes
Hermione thrust her hips, suppressing an amused smirk at their chosen means of communication.
Stranger: beautiful
Stranger: lets do this
P. sank deeper into the backrest of her chair, her body a spectacular sight. She looked so touchable, so lickable. Hermione worked a second finger in, moaning at the stretch, and pumped into herself as she watched P. do the same. Absently, she imagined what it would feel like to have P. flush against her own skin, to suck on her nipples, to have her soaking self grind against Hermione’s thigh or push her fingers up inside her.
The wave was approaching, and Hermione could no longer keep her eyelids open. She shut them, rolled her head back and carried on the rhythm until a shake started crawling up her thighs. Every piece of her went blindingly hot, and she moaned and trembled with the rapture of her climax.
"Ah, fuck!" the cry was compulsive. Her walls were tightening around her fingers as pleasure kept rippling across her body. She writhed and she whimpered, toes curling and sweat breaking. She was trying her best to anchor herself in P.’s watchful presence, and hoped P. witnessed every inch and shake of her. Because it was all because of—and for—her.
The tide of pleasure ebbing away, Hermione’s limbs fell weak and quivering. She relaxed her legs, still panting, and peeled her eyelids back open to look at the screen.
P. was fingering her clit hastily, chasing after Hermione. P.’s body had grown tense—she was evidently bracing herself for an orgasm. Motivated to see it happen, Hermione managed to pull her body up enough so she could reposition herself closer to the keyboard. She wiped her sticky fingers on the sheets before typing.
You: God, P…
You: You’re doing so good
You: I want to watch you come
You: Please
You: Come for me
P. was growing ever tenser. Hermione took her breast into her hand, then squeezed and pulled to provide more to look at. She kneaded herself in front of the camera and whined into the dark, empty room, despite knowing P. couldn’t hear it. Soon after, however, P.’s body went very stiff for just a moment before stirring into convulsions. The sight was hypnotizing. P. was holding onto the backrest of her chair as violent waves kept crashing over her.
You: P…
You: You’re incredible
You: This is so hot…
P. was breathing hard, her body gradually slumping into the chair. Hermione waited a couple of minutes for P. to recover. She tried to imagine how P.’s face looked right now, spent and blissful, maybe eyebrows gathered together or mouth agape, huffing… Hermione, meanwhile, was still dripping cum.
Eventually, P. slowly pushed herself closer to the desk.
Stranger: fucking hell
Stranger: Jean
Stranger: im so dead
You: Me too
Stranger: im…
You: Me too…
You: I’m still shaking
Stranger: same
Stranger: you really wrecked me…
Stranger: who are you, woman
Hermione chuckled. This made her feel warm, this time in her chest. Maybe a little silly, too, in a good way, with both of them wet and naked and shivering in front of their cameras.
Stranger: i need to fucking find you
You: Alright
You: I’ll be waiting
Stranger: im barely kidding
Stranger: watch me book a flight
Stranger: i’ll be walking around cambridge with a printed screenshot of a kimono begging people for directions
You: I’m laughing oh my god
You: Did you really take a screenshot?
Stranger: no comment
You: Oh my god
You: How many??
Stranger: im teasing you
Stranger: i wouldnt
Stranger: not without your consent anyway
You: Either way
You: Nobody would recognise the kimono regardless…
Stranger: im sure ur right..
Stranger: i might have a chance if you had a unique tattoo or something
Stranger: or a special piece of jewellery at least
Stranger: but a beige kimono??
Stranger: BEIGE
Stranger: im doomed…
You: It’s over…
Stranger: its over
Stranger: although…
Stranger: you do have remarkable hair
Stranger: quite distinctive too
Stranger: it might be the very clue im missing
You: Possibly…
You: How much do you want me?
Stranger: how honest do you want me
You: Very
Stranger: im actually not kidding Jean
You: What?
P. hesitated. Hermione’s heart thumped against her ribcage, feeling suddenly nervous. Seconds passed, and P. wasn’t typing anything. Feeling rising discomfort from being idle, Hermione took this moment to retrieve her robe and put it around herself. She was beginning to feel chilly—and exposed—again.
Stranger: i dont know how to put it
Stranger: to not scare you off
You: Right
You: So you actually mean it.
You: You want to actually find me
Stranger: is that wrong
You: Not necessarily…
Stranger: i like you
You: But you don’t know me
Stranger: yes but i WANT to know you
Stranger: this felt really good
Stranger: like
Stranger: unusually so…
Stranger: do tell me if its just me
Stranger: im really not trying to be a creep
Hermione caught her inner cheek between her molars. She chewed absently as she envisioned actually meeting P. Her heart was racing at the thought. She did not foresee this escalating to such a degree. She remembered P. mentioning earlier that she was planning to be in England in December.
You: What’s happening…
That feeling again, of reality sinking in. The possibilities… They were starting to sound too awfully tangible. Videochatting was designed to be fleeting—you have a call with a random anonymous stranger somewhere across the globe and then you click away when done. It was never meant to be anything more, not in Hermione’s head.
Stranger: dont worry im not booking a flight
Stranger: ur good
You: Okay
Stranger: but
P. hesitated again before typing.
Stranger: and you can 100 percent say no
Stranger: but maybe you’d be at least open to show our faces?
Heart quivering with apprehension and distant longing, Hermione stared at the screen.
Stranger: again, no pressure
Stranger: we could exchange emails…
Stranger: doesnt matter what
Stranger: i just
Stranger: dont want you to be gone
Stranger: and besides
Stranger: we need a way to stay in touch about that photoshoot, remember? ;)
Hermione’s head was spinning. She tried to calculate every possible way this could go right or wrong, to determine how safe it would be to proceed—and whether she even wanted to at all. But she did want it. She, too, didn’t want P. to be gone.
You: Okay.
You: I don’t know about the photoshoot…
You: But we can stay in touch
Stranger: okay
Stranger: do you have a preference how?
You: I take a screenshot of the kimono isn’t going to suffice, is it?
Stranger: lol not really…
Stranger: i know
Stranger: disappointing
You: Disappointing…
Stranger: you make me laugh Jean
Stranger: is that really your name
You: Yes and no
You: It’s my middle name.
Stranger: smart
Stranger: im glad its still technically your name though
Stranger: i loved saying it
You: I didn’t get to say yours
Stranger: you want to know?
You: I do
Stranger: do you agree to reveal our faces?
Hermione was still contemplating. Deciding. Now that this prospect was such an attainable possibility—the prospect of actually knowing P.—she felt like there was nothing else she wanted more.
You: Okay.
Stranger: shit
Stranger: okay
They sat in silence for a moment, both charged with anticipation of what was mere seconds away. Hermione felt irresistibly drawn to this woman—and now she was about to see what she truly looked like.
Stranger: i can go first?
You: Yes, please
Stranger: my name is Pansy
P. tilted her camera up. Hermione’s heart sank. The face of none other than Pansy Parkinson appeared on the screen.
Hermione sat paralysed for the longest second of her life. The next, her hand flew on instinct and slammed her laptop shut.
"Oh my god."
She sat completely still, hiding in the dimness of her room, hand flat on the laptop. Her breath was stuck in her lungs, her heart banging. Every thought was a whirlwind. What had just happened.
"Oh my god."
Her eyes were wide in shock. She put her hands around her reeling head. It was Pansy this entire time. Her. Of all people. Cum hadn’t even dried off Hermione’s thighs yet.
"Oh no…"
Hermione jumped to her feet. She started pacing restlessly around her room.
"No no no no…"
Trying to calm down, she breathed.
"Okay… okay okay…"
But Pansy didn’t know it was Hermione. Pansy didn’t know. Hermione was safe. That was good.
Was it?
"Oh no…"
Hermione’s heart sank even lower. She thought about everything that happened; she remembered the connection they had just shared, the pleasure and the curiosity. She recalled P. telling Hermione she liked her. Booking flights and all. Not P.—Pansy.
"Oh god…"
Hermione was starting to feel a little ill… She was also feeling bad. This was neither of their fault. Pansy had volunteered to reveal herself first. Pansy didn’t know what had just happened—she showed her face and then her chat partner immediately disappeared. And this image of Pansy sitting there in the dark, staring at a disconnected screen, simply wouldn’t leave Hermione’s mind. It made Hermione feel guilty, it didn’t feel right. She needed to fix it.
Pansy Parkinson though...
"Okay."
Resolutely, Hermione hopped back on her bed and flipped the laptop open.
As expected, the chat had disconnected. Maybe—just maybe—Hermione could find her again? Despite the slim chances. If Pansy hadn’t clicked Woozichat off. Which she probably had…
Hermione tied her kimono around herself tightly and lowered the laptop camera. Lightheaded from her flying heart rate, she clicked ‘connect’ to start a new chat. Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t Pansy. Hermione continued restlessly skipping through chats, stranger after stranger, trying to resist the acute awareness of the growing pang of disappointment slowly spreading through her chest.
She spent, perhaps, a quarter of an hour, likely more, abusing the ‘skip’ button, losing hope as she went. She wasn't even sure why she was doing this. When Pansy had revealed her face, Hermione's first instinct had been horror—the possibility of being recognised, the humiliation of Pansy knowing exactly who she had seen naked and writhing on the other side of the screen.
And yet, here she was, deliberately seeking Pansy out in spite of the obvious risk. Hermione told herself she was only looking because the abrupt disconnect had been unfair, even cruel. Because, despite everything, Pansy deserved an explanation. She deserved to know that she had done nothing wrong, that they merely—unfavourably—knew each other, and Hermione panicked.
For whatever inexplicable reason, letting this go felt simply unbearable.
Hermione stared at the spinning wheel, waiting to be connected to a new chat. Hermione wasn’t sure how many more of these she was willing to put herself through.
The webcams loaded. The familiar cami top and pansy necklace appeared on her screen.
Hermione almost jumped, heart springing. P.—Pansy—did, too. Pansy lunged at her keyboard. Hermione was terrified again.
Stranger: JEAN
Stranger: THANK MERLIN
Stranger: waht happened???
This was so obvious now. So stupid. Hermione’s clammy, jittery fingers hovered over the keyboard. She hadn’t actually rehearsed this.
You: I’m sorry
Stranger: did it disconnect??
Stranger: or
Or what? So many scary implications in that ‘or.’ Didn’t like me? Recognised me? Changed your mind? Played me?
Stranger: is everything okay?
You: Not really…
Stranger: what happened?
She couldn’t come up with a gentler way to say this and there was no point in beating around the bush.
You: I know you.
Time stood still. Pansy was processing it. Hermione was internally banging her head against a wall.
Stranger: oh
Stranger: oh fuck
While Pansy’s face was now off-screen, Hermione could still see her covering her mouth with her hand, staying like this for a long anxious moment.
Stranger: who are you
Hermione remained silent. She could tangibly feel Pansy’s eyes searching and gears turning.
Stranger: wait
Stranger: fuck
Stranger: no
Stranger: granger?
Hermione’s mouth was so dry. It was already dry after all the… nevermind now.
Stranger: wait
Stranger: am i right???
Pansy nudged her own webcam to allow her face to be shown again. Shock and confusion and disbelief were twisting her features. She was frowning at the screen as if the glowing pixels were supposed to rearrange themselves into the answer.
Stranger: it has to be
Stranger: hermione JEAN granger
Well. The cat was out of the bag.
Hermione swallowed, double-checking with herself for the last time. Then she, too, pushed her laptop camera up.
Despite having already guessed correctly, Pansy still looked as shocked as if she hadn’t, as if she couldn’t believe her eyes. Her lips mouthed ‘fuck me.’
Meanwhile, Hermione sat perfectly still—awkward, almost scared to move, and trying not to show too much emotion. It felt like being in confrontation with a feral animal let freshly out of its cage and not being certain if she would come out of it in one piece.
Stranger: well, GRANGER
Stranger: i must say
Stranger: this truly knocked my knickers off
Hermione didn’t know whether to cry or laugh or hide under the duvet. She knew Pansy was going to be a pain in the arse. How terribly unsurprising. For now, Hermione chose to ignore this entirely.
You: You know my full name?
Reading the question, Pansy huffed, like this was the most ridiculous thing Hermione could’ve typed. The initial shock on her face was gradually melting off.
Stranger: of course?
Stranger: i was obsessed with you
Hermione grimaced, flabbergasted.
You: Obsessed???
Pansy momentarily flashed more teeth.
Stranger: nevermind
Stranger: yes i know your bloody name
Stranger: are you kidding me
Stranger: im in fucking france and i still cant escape it
Hermione could not process what to make of this. So much brain power had already been exhausted. It had been such a long, depleting night.
You: I’m so confused
Stranger: as i said
Stranger: nevermind
Stranger: fuckinhell granger
Stranger: JEAN
Stranger: im
Stranger: you disconnected on me!
Stranger: why are you back??
Stranger: did you feel bad?
You: Yes…
Pansy laughed. The nerve. Hermione felt the heat of indignation rise up her neck.
Stranger: of course you did
You: For your information, I was trying to be nice
You: Not to leave you hanging
You: But I regret it now.
You: You’re being an arse
Stranger: okay okay
You: Of course you’re being an arse…
Stranger: didnt mean it
Stranger: habit?
Yet Pansy was still smirking. Hermione’s jaw tightened. Pansy, not getting a response, resignedly let go of her smirk.
Stranger: fine
Stranger: i’ll try to behave
You: It’s fine.
Stranger: frankly im just as shocked and confused as you are
You: No kidding…
You: Although I’m surprised you didn’t recognise me
You: Since you’re so obsessed.
Pansy’s eyebrows shot up, her returning grin now a picture of astonished delight.
Stranger: oh??
She slowly shook her head, tsking, familiarly smug and in perfect enjoyment of Hermione’s move of offense.
Stranger: be careful everyone
Stranger: she bites
You: I do.
Now, hold on. This was bordering on flirting. Hermione mentally slapped herself sober.
Stranger: im surprised too tho
Stranger: that i didnt recognise you earlier
Stranger: its so obvious now
You: I know…
You: It’s so obvious now.
Pansy didn’t say anything after that. The contemplative swivelling of her chair returned. It was growing unnerving, so Hermione took matters into her own hands.
You: I hope you agree that this is something to be kept between us.
You: I felt bad dropping the call after you revealed yourself, which is why I returned
You: But I think it’s best we try to forget and pretend this never happened.
Pansy didn’t budge for another long moment. Her hand was resting at her mouth, covering most of it, but Hermione could still see Pansy gnawing thoughtfully on her bottom lip, eyes fixed onto the screen.
Hermione was getting fidgety. She assumed Pansy would want to be on the same page, but her hesitation was concerning. Finally, Pansy started typing.
Stranger: i wont tell anyone
Stranger: but is this really what you want
Hermione’s eyebrows drew closer together. She understood Pansy’s implication—that perhaps there was something to this accidental encounter worth considering—but the scant remains of Hermione’s sanity were putting up a hell of a protest.
You: Why wouldn’t it be?
Still, Hermione glanced away, her hand absently smoothing the creases in her pansy-strewn bedsheets.
You: What other options do we have…
Hermione was thinking—though not entirely. She wasn’t considering any real options, only how mad it would be to do anything but forget. Because, at this point, the loathing she carried for Pansy Parkinson—for many Slytherins, but especially her—felt deeply and permanently etched into her, even if somewhat outdated. It was just something… unquestionable. A law of nature. So anything but forgetting sounded ridiculous and irresponsible.
Stranger: i understand
Stranger: skilled at memory charms at all?
The corners of Pansy’s mouth were curled up again, her question evidently meant as a joke. But Hermione swallowed a small lump in her throat.
You: You have no idea.
Stranger: okay…
Stranger: for the record
Stranger: i dont need my memory erased
Stranger: it was Jean and P. anyway, not us?
You: It doesn’t work this way for me…
Stranger: okay
Stranger: this really bothers you doesnt it
You: Doesn’t it bother you??
Stranger: why would it?
Hermione couldn’t believe what she was reading.
You: BECAUSE????
You: Must I spell it out???
Pansy was laughing!
Stranger: RIGHT
Stranger: no thats valid
Stranger: sorry
Stranger: its just
Stranger: school was ages ago
You: ??????
Stranger: RELAX
Stranger: im not racist anymore
You: Lucky me!!!
Hermione plastered on a sarcastically pleasant smile, communicating just how low the bar had been set. Pansy, naturally, continued finding all of this amusing, to Hermione’s outrage.
Stranger: ok listen
Stranger: are you listening?
Pansy gave Hermione a pointed look through the camera. Begrudgingly, Hermione turned her fuming down to a simmer.
Stranger: i understand you
Stranger: i do
Stranger: fuck
Stranger: i wasnt prepared for this conversation right now…
Stranger: but here we go i guess
Stranger: i AM sorry
Stranger: for the way i was at hogwarts
Stranger: our school years were fucked up
Stranger: my mum and i fled to france when dad was imprisoned
Stranger: we have been living here ever since, we built a new life
Stranger: i dont feel that way anymore
Stranger: like
Stranger: AT ALL
Stranger: we mostly live amongst muggles now
Stranger: theyre my friends and colleagues
Stranger: ive dated muggles
Stranger: its my new normal
Stranger: dont know what else to say…
Stranger: does this make you feel any better?
Stranger: about what just happened
Hermione stared pensively at the pixels of Pansy’s words. And her face. She wasn’t smirking anymore and looked mostly calm, though the slight tightness of her lips betrayed some frustration, maybe a crumb of remorse. Pansy still wore a similar hairstyle like she did in school, but her features had matured, looking sharper, more graceful. However, despite the fact that, in some ways, Pansy felt like a different person now, the familiar image of her still evoked a distant, unpleasant association. An internal conflict was brewing.
She believed Pansy’s account, of course. Hermione could vaguely recall Mr Parkinson being sentenced to Azkaban together with dozens of other war criminals soon after the Battle. She could remember Pansy never showing up for their eighth year at Hogwarts. Not to mention the sheer fact of Pansy being here, on this site—using muggle technology, flirting with who she must have assumed was a muggle stranger—spoke to how radically different Pansy’s life had become.
Hermione reread Pansy’s story a few times. ‘About what just happened’… Her overworked nerve endings prickled again. She was still spent and naked under her robe. She was also incredibly tired. It was nearing two in the morning. This internal conflict wasn’t going to be resolved overnight.
Hermione took a deep inhale. In spite of everything, the worn root system of long-held grudges inside her began to quietly crack.
You: Maybe.
You: Not to excuse anything…
Stranger: of course
You: But at least you’re not the same anymore.
Stranger: im not
You: Okay…
Sure. Hermione could, maybe, give the idea of a reformed Pansy Parkinson a chance…
Stranger: so what do you want to do now?
Hermione didn’t know. An obliviate charm would likely be unnecessary (not that she actually considered it). She continued watching Pansy’s face. Unfortunately for Hermione, this 29-year-old Pansy was painfully pretty. Hermione was digging herself into a hole. It was either forget and move on, or…
You: I’m not sure
You: Since you don’t seem interested in my suggestion…
Stranger: suggestion to pretend this never happened?
You: Yes
Stranger: but then i asked you
Stranger: if thats what you really want
Stranger: and you didnt give me a clear answer
You: You didn’t give me another suggestion.
Stranger: well
Stranger: kind of self-explanatory is it not?
You: It’s not.
Stranger: i think you’re lying
You: That’s quite presumptuous…
Stranger: yeah ur right
Stranger: given the evidence, im presuming that you had a good time
Hermione scoffed to herself, a little scandalized. Maybe it wasn’t entirely untrue, but it was still a bold implication.
You: That’s besides the point…
Stranger: is it?
Stranger: i think its the WHOLE point, chérie
You: What do you want me to say??
You: If I had known it was you, this wouldn’t have happened
You: So what does it matter
Stranger: i think it matters
Stranger: but im not gonna sit here trying to convince you to be honest
You: I’m not being dishonest
You: Obviously this is a lot to process…
Stranger: okay
Stranger: thats fair
You: I think I need more time to wrap my head around this
Stranger: okay
You: And I’m surprised that you don’t
Stranger: well its simple in my mind
Stranger: either liked it or not
Stranger: but i understand needing time
Hermione allowed herself a moment to ponder Pansy’s unnuanced perspective. Sure, there was relief and clarity in making things simple, but it also felt unfair and reckless to ignore the heavy baggage. Pansy, however, was free to think as reductionist as she preferred.
You: So which one is it?
Stranger: what?
You: Liked it or not?
Pansy paused, almost taken aback by the directness of the question.
Stranger: do you actually want to know?
You: Yes.
Hermione’s heart rate spiked. Anticipating a confession was apparently just as nerve-wracking as admitting one. It made things real no matter which side it was coming from.
Stranger: of course i liked it
Stranger: i mean everything i say
Stranger: i had a good time
Hermione’s inner cheek was turning raw from gnawing. Perhaps it wasn’t as surprising that Pansy cared about the nature of this encounter much less than Hermione did. This was harder for Hermione. Because, even if Pansy had changed, there was still so much dense, polluted air between them that would require a lot of time to clear. Well… maybe not ‘a lot.’
Hermione’s indecisive fingers kept stirring above the keyboard. Part of her wanted to continue deflecting, but Pansy’s presumably candid words were making her second-guess.
You: It didn’t change how you feel about it?
You: Knowing it was me
Stranger: no
Stranger: but i said my part
Stranger: and if im the only one who feels this way
Stranger: then tell me.
Continuing to fight this would look embarrassing by now. Returning images of Pansy’s naked body were transfiguring Hermione’s guts into mush. It was still making her pleasantly shiver, despite knowing it was Pansy.
You: You’re not the only one.
So much for needing more time…
Stranger: thank you for saying that
Stranger: cause i was like
Stranger: i saw you?? i felt it??
Finally surrendering to reality, Hermione suddenly groaned to herself. Her face dropped into her hands in defeat. Her cheeks were warm against her clammy palms. With every reminder, flashes of the activities from an hour ago were endlessly flooding her brain. Said flashes were then sending tingles down her stomach. The tingles made her feel good and curious and a little desperate. And desperation was like a bad friend that pushes you off a cliff before you’re ready to jump.
She looked up again.
Stranger: Hermione…
She groaned helplessly again.
Pansy’s lips were curving upward. There was a glint in her eye, but her smile was gentle. Hermione had not seen it before.
Stranger: nothing bad happened
Stranger: yeah?
Stranger: we are both adults
Stranger: its been years
Stranger: im not trying to persuade you or condone anything
Stranger: but ive spent years unlearning self-denial
Stranger: and whatever happened here isnt worth regressing over.
Stranger: this felt good
Stranger: thats it.
Stranger: yeah?
Hermione sighed, unable to stop a blush or a returning simper. Her resigned fingers crept over the keyboard.
You: Yeah…
You: This felt good.
Pansy’s lips stretched a little wider, quite satisfied with winning Hermione over.
Stranger: does that mean the witch trials are finally over?
Hermione laughed into the palm still shielding her face.
You: I suppose they are
You: I’m sorry again for closing the chat on you…
You: I rightfully panicked.
Stranger: i dont blame you
Stranger: but i WAS about to dedicate my life to skipping through chats
Stranger: since i did not in fact take that kimono screenshot
You: haha
You: Well
You: It is no longer a concern
You: You clearly know me very well.
Stranger: oh
Stranger: never better
Hermione’s cheeks were burning. They were looking knowingly at each other. A warm and giddy kind of feeling—desire, excitement, hope—was swelling up inside Hermione, in the most unlikely of places, with the most unlikely of people.
Seconds passed, a minute.
Stranger: so anyway
Stranger: since i no longer have to pretend i travel by planes…
Stranger: how dusty is your floo?
♡ ♡ ♡