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Unmatched Patience	By : McGonagall Category: Harry Potter > FemSlash - Female/Female Views: 4220 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter series, and I wish that I made any money from this. I don't.

Chapter List
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Chapter 1

She watched the elder witch's hand as she seemed to correct essays, having given her sixth year Ravenclaws and Slytherins the rest of the lesson to get to the essay to be handed in by that Friday… Essays were rather far from Bellatrix Black's mind as she just continued to watch; the memory of her alternate cat shape was offered to Bellatrix's attention, and suddenly the puzzle fit.

She vividly recalled the exact day she had begun to hate cats. She recalled it like yesterday.

She had been six… and had noticed a cat wandering near the gates lining their manor with its extended gardens, while running about the grass with her two sisters. Narcissa had not been able to follow her elders. At once, Bellatrix' curiosity had peaked upon noticing the feline, and she had been stupid enough to go and gather it and carry it inside, where her dearly beloved mother had not paid much attention to her nor the rescued feline. Her father, however…

She should have left the animal – lonely, but alive. Upon his arrival home again and seeing his Black daughter amusing a cat undoubtedly from the street; Cygnus had been so mad at her for taking in the animal – saving and showing compassion was unlike a Black. He had mercilessly taken it by its tail, walking away with it… Bella immediately following in tears, begging him not to hurt it, that she would return it into the nature… back on the street. As she scrambled after him, she watched him hang the feline on the washing line with its tail as it screamed and pulled but would not be freed. It screamed itself to death eventually. The mere memory made those helpless screams still resound in Bella's twisted mind. She had vomited extensively all night from the sight offered to her by her father. He had never tried to stop her from following, and she could not be surer than that he had meant for her to see it. Oh, how it had certainly made her hate cats…

Nevertheless. As her eyes easily fastened upon the easy motions... she could feel her lust for the elder witch rapidly spread through her veins again and realized more than ever that she wanted Minerva McGonagall. She so wanted her. Whether she actually had to hurt her for her to want her too, she did not care. Bellatrix Black always did get that what she wanted, and that now was Minerva McGonagall... which was undoubtedly odd considering how she indeed hated cats... She and Minerva, however, had been love at first sight, at least on her behalf. The thought of a cat purring in her lap was close to disgusting to Bella. The thought of Minerva sitting in her lap, purring with pure delight... Oh. Biting down on her lower lip not to let the low moan escape which sought to fall from her lips, she continued to feast upon the elder witch's figure.

More intelligent and penetrating than any of her sisters or House mates, lovers or her foes... in her own little way, either sooner or later the Blackest daughter always got what she so wanted. She waited like a cat in a tree – if needed. If she wanted the tasty mouse indeed, she would get it.

Wasn't that the most of confirmation to herself and the rest of the world that she actually was no lunatic, driven by her needs only and unable to wait to satisfy?

Whether the mouse twisted or turned on its way, it did not matter… If she so had to make it come to her with whatever mean that was necessary; if she so nearly had to kill it to have it... she would get the chosen prey that could only be denied for but a moment. Nothing could be denied for longer than a moment. However... If needed, she would wait with unmatched patience. Thus far she merely hadn't had the need to; had found those weaker spots in no-time. Patience had never been the key... until Minerva, who sorely did test her patience indeed. Sweet torture.

Bellatrix Black was the cat that caught every mouse. Manipulation was a treat that she more than her sisters or even her father had been born with. She had never had to use the rough means... at least not to get her little preys. To satisfy her needs, however...

The exception on the rule, though... She had met that exception upon her arrival at Hogwarts that first day in 1963… had only realized she wanted her five years later, found she was indeed the exception another year later.

There was one prey she would never seem to get, and that prey was Minerva McGonagall… It seemed as if the woman was immune, but Bella quietly mused that she just hadn't found the right way yet. A challenge – merely but a challenge. Bellatrix's methods of manipulation had worked on her other little victims very easily… Minerva McGonagall, ever the loyal teacher, would undoubtedly let her find the answer so to speak on the path of learning… discovering how extensive her manipulative abilities were. If only she knew. She would… naturally never admit even to herself that despite all that, she never would have expected the Gryffindor Head of House to be that much of a challenge.

She was the prey Bella had wanted most since having truly realized the depth of her feelings; had not been interested in others anymore. The way how she seemed to float further away each time Bella pushed farther made her want her only more… actually turned her on.

The coldness of her voice as it mercilessly cut through the room when she caught a pupil busy with something else than her class matched the coldness in her heart. It matched the coldness deep in Bellatrix Black's heart. Tenderness was not something others thought her capable of, let alone kindness or gentleness. Bellatrix had thought others sentimental or just had not understood what they had meant. Until Minerva finally came into the erotic picture somewhere and she suddenly understood, because she seemed to miss the same feelings as Bellatrix had always been accused of missing by not-Blacks… and even by Blacks with pride on their lips.

Suddenly, the meaning of these words had been uncovered. They fit Minerva. They were Minerva. They were the same even in exterior to a certain extent: ink curls, deep despite different colored eyes. They each held the same wisdom and mystery… Their lips were the same dark red color; it would pale through the years… but then, had their lips touched, they would have been one and hard to tear apart. They seemed one and the same person just put in other stages of their lives; merely kneaded into other characters with other capabilities by their respective nurtures… In nature they were and always would be the same to Bellatrix. She furiously hoped to still be so hot and tight at Minerva's age.

Bellatrix wanted them to be one. She needed it, versus clinging to insanity. Bellatrix Black was falling into an abyss… and Minerva was the only one who could make her soar higher… far away from it. Her touch… Those delicious thin lips locked on her nipple or lower… They would save her truly. Minerva just needed to make her float before she had fallen already and the case had been lost.

Right on the opposite of Minerva, however, stood her Black heritage. She needed to be Black, too. Both in looks and behavior had she been most Black among her sisters – having been the first born and daddy's 'favorite'. She was on a cord clinging on for dear life with no choice in the matter, being dragged from the one to the other side, with Black slowly winning. Yet it never made her want to stop thrusting in Dark Red happily as deep she could.

Daddy was a cruel man – not that her mother was any better. Often enough Black families praised her for resembling her father so much; in other circles it was met with disgust.

Despite what most of the non-Blacks thought, she hadn't always been like that actually. By the time Bella began attending Hogwarts, most of the damage had been already done – literally… and figuratively.

As many other Wizarding children, she and her sisters were homeschooled by their father. Cygnus certainly required a lot and wasn't easily satisfied… either daughter who failed to satisfy would be punished physically. Most of the time that was Bellatrix somehow.

He claimed often enough that was the way to learn, and maybe it were… Rarely was the same mistake made another time. The one time it actually did happen, was a physical battle she never would forget, though. She suspected that especially the talking back part had earned her the harshness of his hand, though. Upon second failure at casting an Oppugno spell with her nana's wand on a bunch of small daggers, she had thoughtlessly cried that Irma's wand was likely faulty since it had been in use so long already, having been given to Irma herself as the elder. The glare that he had cast in her direction then even though he remained wordless was scary. It should have warned her. It didn't.

Once he had dismissed his 'class', a flicker of his eyes had convinced the ten-year-old Bella to remain. Andromeda and Narcissa, respectively eight and six, had had no clue whatsoever. They had not even looked back, possibly assuming that it had to do with Bella's upcoming first year at Hogwarts. It had been the beginning of June, and though no acceptance letter had arrived yet, Bella not going was impossible, even if she had not shown early signs of great magic. At six months old, she could make her pacifier already fly to her from the bedside table…

Once his younger daughters had left his office, however… a wave of Cygnus' wand had locked them inside it. Nonverbally, a silence spell had been added atop. "How dare you thoughtlessly insult your family's wealthy heritage when the fault lies with you? How dare you with the Black blood in your veins say you cannot do something as daughter of one of the best wizard families in Britain if not the world? I sincerely hope that by the time you go to Hogwarts, you will have forgotten wordings like that even exist, for they do not as a Black. Otherwise, I'll have to make you. Do not make me make you. You'll regret it." His voice had dropped an octave and had yet sounded more threatening than ever. Do not put generations of fame to shame, Bellatrix, or you will no longer belong here. You, who carries all assets of the Black women…" At that, his gaze had easily wandered from her face to her bosom – which on the verge of eleven had already grown to a reasonable size as was common with all Black women. "You're a woman, not a child anymore. Do behave like it."

Indeed, she had become a woman about a month before. Cygnus Black III had been home alone with his daughters as his wife had gone to Knockturn Alley for a few tumblers of whiskey and a gamble with the girls. She had gone to the bathroom and found blood in her knickers… Druella was a very passive woman in general. Even if it had been in later years, Bellatrix most likely had had to figure it for herself as well. Druella was not the mother to be talking about such things with her daughters. No one else had ever mentioned either.

So, she had gone to her father by lack of anyone else at home and had told him she seemed to be bleeding and upon asking where, for he didn't see any blood anywhere, she had cast her gaze down... He had solely called one of their House-Elves and had let the unknowing creature help her. That night, they had had quite a copious dinner together to celebrate Bella's having become a woman. She had gotten her first glass of Champaign; had been embarrassed the whole of the evening. 'Dromeda and 'Cissa had been lucky enough. They would not have been the ones to find what it meant; had questioned their elder sister after the "party" – confused by Cygnus' wordings of his eldest having become a woman…

She had not at all been ready for what had come that spring before her first year at Hogwarts. "I'll introduce you to the last aspect of womanhood. Maybe you'll remember to behave then…" He had whispered in her ear… then thrown her on his desk, her thighs having parted in the moment. With ease, the knickers had been pulled down and an intense pain had washed over her before she even realized what was going on… She remembered feeling like she was going to… split apart – another way to womanhood Bellatrix had had to learn through experience, nothing else. Being fucked had been another something she had not known about until it happened.

After he had exhausted himself in and on his daughter, Cygnus told her to disappear, together with the evidence… that it must look spick and span. He had left the house then. In tears, Bella had slid down on the floor and with a stab to her heart had realized she had worn those same knickers that one day when she had bled for the first time.

Curious it was that she would not mind finding all of dear Minerva's fingers deep inside her. Merely looking at her inconspicuously from her table in the Great Hall – not that anyone would dare to mention it to her even if they weren't too engrossed to notice – and watching her move, no matter if it were to raise a fork of dinner to her mouth or not… She always imagined those fingers inside her… She always wanted those fingers inside her. She would get them – get Minerva.

She was no longer interested in grey mice. She would get the pussy.
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Unmatched Patience