Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

By The Light	By : lycanthrope Category: Harry Potter > FemSlash - Female/Female Views: 17685 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: All of the characters portrayed in this fic (apart from Jamie.) and all other creations existing within the world Of Harry Potter are the creative genius of J.K Rowling, I make no profit from the writing or posting of this fan fiction.

Chapter List
- 29
- 30
- 31
Chapter 30

The track up to the castle is by no means arduous but the ominous sight of the building ahead is enough for me to slow my steps. That network of stone, such a short time ago, represented the only means of indisputable protection that I had at my disposal. The wards, charms, and thick brick all compiled in a blanket of safety that would overtake me whenever I would return from the holidays.

Now all I can see is the black, cold expanse of a prison, one woman vying for a power that reaches far beyond her capabilities. Umbridge, day by day, chipping away at the school and trying to warp it to the ministry’s design. Her mounting power over both the students and the teaching staff are enough for me to feel the cold shoulder of many, due to my disorder and one woman’s view of it.

I have often returned home early from the holidays, fearful that another day without sustenance will be my ultimate undoing. Always returning to the safe confines of the castle itself. Today is the opposite. The building is haunted by cold stares and jeering comments and yet I find myself leaving the warmth of a newfound family for the purpose to step back into the embrace of a single woman.

When my long, steady gate swallows the distance the two women have been able to gather between us, Hermione stops. Turning in my direction to wait for me to catch them up. When I am close enough I drop my arm over her shoulders, shooting a grin in her direction when her arm slithers across my spine so her fingers can rest against my hip, noting only a moment later that when it is I that initiates the physical contact I do not have such adverse effects to it.

Nothing is said for several moments, the only sounds are three pairs of feet has they amble along the cobblestone and I start to get the distinct impression that I might have interrupted a conversation with my presence.

Just as I am about to offer to depart Ginny breaks the almost awkward silence. “So, does Dale approve?”

I turn my gaze sharply in her direction, hoping that I might have misheard. However with that particular sense being so sensitive I don’t see how that could be possible. “I’m sorry?”

She doesn’t turn to face me, keeping her eyes facing forward to the winding path ahead. “Of Hermione. Does dale approve?” At my silence she does meet my gaze and must see the slacked jawed expression that I cannot wipe from my face. “Oh come on. I have six older brothers and several ex-boyfriends. I know that look.”

However amusing trying to imagine Ron forbidding his younger sister from ever even looking on another boy in a provocative manor may be, I have to remove it from my mind’s eye and asses any sort of damage my answer might have. It’s not something I’ve ever encountered before. Is approval from your partner’s family considered desirable? I have no qualms with answering Ginny on this particular matter but Hermione stands within earshot, pressed against my side in fact. Giving the foliage along the side of the path such an abundance of attention that it is clear she is listening intently for my response. “You think perhaps a relationship with another witch would gain their endorsement?” I say. I know I am deflecting from the question and I know that both of my companions can see this for what it is.

“For the record, Michel might be clingy but he still has the right parts. For me at least.” She uses her index finger to point accusingly in my direction. “And that does not get you off the hook, missy.”

The ground beneath our feet evens out as we near the castle and we pass beneath a stone archway into a courtyard. “Yes. Dale approves.” I state simply. I have no more information to impart so I fall quiet; encouraged by the light squeeze I receive from the arm around my waist.

As we walk Ginny leans forward to look across my body. “See.” Thrusting an index finger in Hermione’s direction. “I told you.”

“Yes.” Hermione says very slowly. “But do you have to be so direct about it?”

Ginny makes some sort of noise of dismissal in the back of her throat, waving her hand and turning her gaze back in the direction she was walking. “This way is faster, you were just going to pussyfoot around it.”

“Language.” Hermione chastises with little malice, I can still hear the smile laced within her voice. Clearly Dale expressing his like for her is something that pleases her enough to overlook Ginny’s foul mouth, at least on this occasion. Her arm tightens around my weight to grasp my attention. “Have you eaten?”

I knew it wouldn’t be long before she asked that question, that attentive curiosity that sounds so innocuous now carrying much more weight. “I have.” I answer truthfully. In complete honesty I don’t think I could consume another bite today. Rachel managed to get both a lunch and dinner into my belly before Dale was prepared to bring me back to school. Even though I still felt insanely full from Ammy’s banquette the night before. “Why, are you hungry?” I quickly ask, only just realising she might have asked for her own personal need to eat.

She shoots me a look that I have never seen upon her face before and I am only able to describe it as both perplexed and surprised. In its wake I find myself wondering if I had always been so selfish as to think such questions were only for my benefit alone. She has to physically shake her head to be able to speak. “No…urm.” She clears her throat. “No, I’m fine.”

I turn from her, not being comfortable with the look I have inadvertently placed upon her face. Trying not to be affected by this new development and wracking my brain for a way to drive the conversation away in a new direction so I no longer have the feel the tight knot of guilt resting in my chest. “Did I miss anything at the meetings?” It is unwise the speak of Dumbledore’s Army while not in the sanctity of either the room of requirement or tucked away in Hermione’s room but I have run my advanced senses up the staircase we currently climb and along to the corridor leading to her chambers. We should remain alone and unheard for the rest of our journey.

“Not bad.” This topic does have the added benefit of peaking Ginny’s interest enough to renter the conversation. Add that to the fact that she trusts me to know when and where to bring it up so we will not have to worry about eavesdroppers. “Neville still can’t hit the broad side of a bloody Norwegian Ridgeback though. He does manage to cast the spells now but we all run for cover whenever he tries.”

I make a sound in the back of my throat to indicate that I am listening. Not quite ready to speak as I am still pondering how I can be more considerate in the future.

I feel Hermione shake her head against my side before pulling herself closer against it and Ginny takes a very exasperated breath as we reach the head of the staircase. “You’ve got to learn to share those thoughts with the whole class. You just make a sound like that, I become more interested.”

With a sharp turn of my head she has my full attention and I have to physically restrain myself from apologising. On a lot of levels not wanting her to know I had been contemplating two completely different things as she was speaking. “Many of the methods I know of that improve aim aren’t exactly what you’d call orthodox.”

“You mean they’re painful.” Ginny says, with a distinct note of disapproval coating her tongue and colouring her voice.

Her sentence does make me wonder how much these two have spoken about me in the past ten days. Considering Hermione only has the assumptions I have allowed her to create at her disposal I can’t imagine she would have divulged them all to the redhead. However that does not rule out the possibility, the fact that she cannot confirm her suspicions in no way negates the need for her to seek outside help in order cope with them. Or even in her own way aid me.

As outlandish as it may seem, the thought of Ginny being privy to my childhood does not fill me with either contempt or fear. She has, as of yet not used the information maliciously, nor completely confirmed her knowledge. Only choosing a certain order of her words that may or may not implicate it. It is highly possible that they have spoken at length over Hermione’s assumptions over the mistreatment I faced throughout my childhood. It is equally as probable that I am simply reading too much into Ginny’s words. The strangest concept is that I find I do not have any strong aversion to either.

Returning to the matter at hand, it has to be said that there are many merits to commending success and punishing failure. I am a shining example of that. In that regard my parents were two sides of the same coin. My father of course always the cold hand of reprisal. Striking out in any way he saw fit, usually brutal and painful but always obvious. In direct contrast, with a single glance my mother was able to convey her pride of an achievement. That bright light shining in her eyes and there was never any need for words or gifts. That single emotion was enough.

I don’t wish to lie to my friends so I keep myself vague. “Not all of them.” Even my father could be understanding in the times before I grew into an adolescent. Even he seemed to realise that we are not born with the knowledge of these spells and we must all first learn them, his only true failing in that regard was that he firmly believed that one lesson should be enough. Those particular training sessions were much more constructive. “I’ll talk to Harry about it.” I pledge after a long moment.

All three of us come to a stop at Hermione’s door, the Gryffindor common room down the hall at some undisclosed location.

Making no move the enter the small quarters Ginny stops pushing her hand flat against her chest and having an expression of immense gratitude clouding over her features. “If you could do that we will all sleep easier in our beds.”

“Yes, I’m certain.” I reply, knowing that she is trying to be humorous but the joke, as is most often the case, flies over the top of my head and out of reach. Hermione pulls her body from my lose embrace to press against her door, whispering her password to grant her entrance.

Ginny pulls a big grin across her face taking a step back and clearly indicating that she has no intention of being in our company any longer. “Well. I’ll just leave you ladies to it.” She winks and that is the second time that I have creased my head in confusion over the action. “Nighty night.” She calls, turning on the ball of her foot gracefully and retreating to her room.

“Why does she do that?” I ask Hermione, obediently following behind and closing the door quietly when we have both entered.

Hermione immediately takes a seat at her desk, bending over to pull her shoes from her feet and massaging her feet when they are free. “Do what?”

“She winked at me.” I answer already feeling stupid for bringing it up. In general I do know the meaning of the gesture, to convey something privately as a jest or a secret. However in this instance I am completely clueless as to what that could be.

Hermione laughs; whether at my ineptness or the impactions of Ginny’s actions I am unsure. “She was being crass.”

Now I am completely baffled. I rest my satchel down at the side of her desk, already decided that I will wait until later to empty it. “She didn’t say anything crude.”

“She didn’t need to.” Now barefoot she stands and presses her palms against my hips until her arms encircle me and I am forced to rest my upper limbs over her shoulders.

Without her shoes our difference in height is much more extenuated and I have to look down on her to show the confusion I feel. I know my actions much of the time are far from glaringly obvious but I do wish that the people I have chosen to surround myself with would, when it comes to matters like this, be less subtle about it. “She merely bid us goodnight.” I observe out loud. Finding out very quickly that my newfound openness might be able to answer some questions over my friend’s behaviour from time to time.

“Sweetheart.” She starts, her eyes twinkling with mirth that shows across her brood smile. “I don’t think she was implying we would be sleeping much tonight.”

“Oh.” I say far too quickly, before I give myself time to comprehend what she is saying. “Oh.” I repeat much more slowly, unsure if I should feel embarrassed or not. “That actually makes a lot more sense now. Thank you.”

She giggles once more and pushes herself closer into my personal space so she can draw herself higher on her toes and still use the lengths of my body to lean against. “You’re welcome.” In the blink of an eye her lips are on mine. The slow open-mouthed rhythm leavening no room for misinterpretation as to the direction My Beloved wishes the evening to take.

Running my elbows down her forearms to grasp at the curve of her shoulders I pull her closer to me. Wanting to be wrapped in her sent, in her cries of passion and most importantly her limbs.

Her hands reach under my already un-tucked shirt, pressing against the curve of my spine, her tongue pressing against my lower lip, gently demanding entrance, which is given to her freely. The small strong organ slips slowly past my teeth touching the tip of mine in an enticing invitation to dance. It lifts unabated by any of my inhibitions to bend to her will, following its partner’s retreat the moment it begins.

The sensation of a foreign feeling slithers across my spine, which makes me begrudgingly push against Hermione’s shoulders and our lips part audibly. For just a moment she looks up at me, her breath as deep and raged as my own, looking confused by my actions.

My thumbs pass over the neckline of her woollen jumper to graze along the flesh at either side of the column on her neck only moments before my palms enclose it and the tips of my fingers brush lightly against the thin hairs along its nape.

Trying, and I might add, failing miserably to control my rapid breaths I rest my forehead against hers. Almost forgetting why I had called a halt to the entanglement as I look into her brown eyes; coloured two shades darker in a visible show of her arousal. “Hold that thought.” I instruct, barely above a whisper.

I step out of the circle of her arms and for just a moment she looks about ready to protest until she sees me heading in the direction of her adjoining bathroom. I close the door to the sight of her shaking her head and reaching downwards to the hem of her jumper in a clear signal she is to remove it. The thought of the supple skin that lies beneath the loosely knitted wool has my mouth run dry and I have to lean my back against the wooden door to restrain myself from striding back into the room and ripping each layer of her clothing from her in my hunt for her skin.

Both palms cover my face and my fingertips press tightly into my eyes. My head leans back against the wood and I try to push the images from my mind of what I know resides on the other side of this thin door. When I have my raging hormones under enough of my control that I no longer tremble in their wake, I take my hands from my cheeks and look blanking into the tiled room. “Ammy?” I already know she’s there, I can feel her just beneath my skin.

The small snort of laughter that resounds in my head leaves me with no illusion that she is surprised that I call on her. ‘At the moment, your attention should not be upon me, Human.’

“I know.” She’s referring to Hermione. For all of our squabbles this particular act has always taken place when Ammy has not been present, I for one would like to keep it that way. However, how best to politely ask Ammy to disappear to the back of my mind as she so often does is something I am having trouble deciding upon. “I don’t want you seeing this.” Is the very brash response I settle on and immediately flinch at the candour of my words.

I can feel her interest is peaked; it rests as a heavy burden across my eyebrows. ‘Why?’ She asks simply, her voice filled with uncomplicated curiosity.

“This is…” I pause, trying to order my words in a way that might placate her. The muscles along my calf twitching and I can feel the beginnings of the temptation to begin fidgeting. “This is personal.” She remains quiet but does not leave my presence, instead patently waiting for me to continue. Knowing that on this occasion I must expand further, or just allow her to reside behind my eyes as Hermione and I rediscover each other. A thought that is deeply unsettling to me. “I’ll sit back, let you watch and experience so many things. But when I’m with…” What was the phrase she used, so many weeks ago when she first came to my attention? “With my mate, like this, I don’t want you to be watching.”

‘Your interactions with this woman are of deep interest to me.’ That sentence alone is enough to strike me almost mute with fear.

Through gritted teeth I reply, “That may be. But this is mine.” I say with such fierce protectiveness that I didn’t know I possessed, profoundly uncomfortable with not only Ammy’s eyes upon the flesh of my girlfriend, but anyone else’s either. “Let me keep this. Please.” I need not have begged, the plea is already laced through my whispered words and I truly do not know what I might do, should she refuse.

For long moments she is quiet and the only sounds to reach my ears are the echoed sounds of my own breaths in the tiled room and Hermione’s movements on the other side of this wall. ‘This is important to you.’ She quietly concludes and I have the distinct impression that she might just grant me this request.

“Very.” I answer with all the honesty I can muster.

Making a sound deep in my mind to show she is contemplating I take a moment to run my sweaty palms over the fabric of my trousers, shakily awaiting her decision. ‘I will grant you this boon.’ I feel myself almost laugh in relief and release the breath that had been burning in my lungs. ‘But I will expect you to grant one for me.’

I admit that I do not like the vagueness of that statement but at this point I think I might grant her almost anything so I might keep my bedroom activates as private as they should be. No easy task when a second entity exists with your mind and body. “As long as it is within my power.”

‘Those terms are acceptable.’ I cannot help but think the relationship between Ammy and myself is based on nothing but tactics of negotiation. ‘Enjoy your evening Human, farewell.’ Unlike all previous times when I have chased her deep into the darkness of my mind she leaves slowly. The loneliness I feel at her departure in no way as intense as I remember it being when she has left me with anger in her voice. Leavening me with the resounding promise that she will return, the oddest thing is that I find myself joyous for it.

After flushing the toilet to keep up the pretence I step back into Hermione’s sleeping chamber, only to find the woman in question already beneath the thick covers. Looking altogether too comfortable, with her hands crossed underneath her head, a smile playing across her face as she looks at me. I tilt my head to the side, taking in the bare expanse of skin along her arms and the rest of her body hidden from my view beneath the quilt, pulled tightly under her chin. Narrowing my eyes I comment. “Are you naked under there?” I ask her, only slightly disappointed that I will be deprived the opportunity to disrobe her.

The look that pulls across her face can only be described as tantalising. “That is something you’ll just have to find out.”

It’s as good as an admission and immediately my hands are at my belt buckle, dexterous fingers pulling on the strip of leather until I have it lose and hanging from my hips as I stride over to the bed. I undo the topmost buttons on by navy shirt and cross my arms at the hem to pull it over my head in a single motion. I toe at the backs of each of my shoes, reaching down to tuck them away next the Hermione’s bedside table. Knowing that if she trips over them later in the night I will never hear the end of it.

Although I am certain that I am able to accomplish the task by touch alone but still I look down the length of my body to undo the button for my trousers and lower the fly. The black fabric pools at my feet and I step out of it, bravely leavening them where they fall. I turn to take a seat at the side of the bed to remove my socks and push them into my discarded shoes. I contemplate leaving my underwear on my skin but only for a moment, slipping out of them only moments before I am lifting the covers and sliding into the bed, the warm flesh that glides along my skin enough commend me for my decision.

I hear a sigh pass between Hermione lips as our bodies meet after such a stretch of time apart. My arm coast over her hip to pull her comfortably to me and the wiry stands of hair that pass over my thigh is enough to tell me exactly how bare she is, even though it is still hidden from my prying eyes.

Her warm caress touches my face, glides across my ear to push between the strands of my short hair, brunching into a loose fist and pulling me forwards. Her lips greet me and I lean much of my weight over her prone body, hips already undulating with each passing breath. My lips leave hers only moments after our tongues once more become reacquainted. Needing to tastes her flesh, have the suppleness against my teeth and lips. I follow the line of her jaw, feeling her turn her head so I have enough room to press further against her. My teeth touch the flesh just below her ear, the shudder it provokes I both hear in her breathing and feel under my splayed fingers across her stomach.

She shifts her weight further under my hand I am forced to push my upper body further aloft and onto my bent arm. Her hands travel the length of my spine and her nails pass on the return journey south, causing my entire body to quake with repressed desire.

My open mouthed kissed drop into her collar bone as the muscles in my arms clench to trail my hand along her skin, further up her body until I have the weight of her breast held in its loose grasp. The moment the creases in my palm pass over the erect point her hips surge forward. Her need for quick release apparently mirroring my own I have no mind to tease. Instead altering the path of my fingers to run through wiry hair between her legs. Pressing down on the moist bundle of nerves I find. Her cry of passion is deeply arousing, only matched by the ragged breaths passing over my ear.

Moving the tips of my fingers in quick tiny circles around the bud under their touch, relishing the sounds of her pleasure echoing close to the shell of my ear with every pass. They only cease when she presses her teeth against the lobe and I lose all cognitive thought, stilling my movement in favour of feeling the tremors wrack though my body. I come to my senses only as I feel her palm pushing against my lower abdomen and forcing me up onto my knees. Her nimble fingers press deeply into me the moment I grant her access to my need.

Straightening my arm I drop the focus of my touch lower between her thighs, feeling her skin brush the back of my hand and she bends her knee to press her foot flat against the mattress. I press two fingers deep into her, feeling her go completely still for a moment, only halting the gentle pressure when my knuckles presses against the throbbing heat.

As I pull them back slowly she begins to gain more control of her body, the gentle thrusting between my legs resuming at a much faster pace than I had set. Fingers thread into my hair along the back of my neck and tug, pulling me forwards until our breaths mingle between parched lips. Her teeth press against my bottom lip to show me her desperation and I speed up my ministrations to match the speeding tempo of hers.

While I press down into her welcomed touch with an almost bruising force I can feel the muscles along her bent leg ripple and her hips rise to meet every thrust of my wrist. I tuck in my thumb to press against the bundle of nerves I have been neglecting and feel the tips of her fingers curl inside of me in response.

Out lips meet again and again in a disorganised fashion, both of us craving the intimate contact until the moment my body goes completely ridged. A flash of cold settling along my spine for only a split second before heat bursts out from deep within my belly, blinding lights flashing behind my eyes and blood rushing past my ears in a whirlwind of noise.

With a shuddery breath I slump forward my body going boneless. My forehead striking the pillow under Hermione’s head and only just able to catch myself on my supporting arm before I crush her beneath my weight and I can feel her stomach shaking with impending climax. She is unprepared for the twist of my wrist to change the angle of my digits inside of her. Her clutching fingers curling around my shoulder blade is testament to that.

I notice her fingers leave my body and press against the knot of nerves as they leave, igniting a further fire in my belly that throw my thrusts into a frantic rhythm, pressing my thumb against her in a manner I know will drive her to the brink of madness. Its seconds before her leg is curling around my hip, her nails digging into my back and her inner muscles clutching at my intruding digits. She presses tightly against me for several long seconds, her breath held back by the force of her pleasure before she drops unceremoniously to the mattress. Limp, sweating and smiling.

Without any care for grace I slump into my shoulder settling on my side and waiting for the aftershocks to pass through her body so I can remove my fingers without causing discomfort. Only when I see her fingers grace her forehead do I remove the intrusion and rest my damp appendage against her abdomen, feeling it shudder under my touch with each breath she takes.

My gaze shoots up to her face when I hear her start to chuckle. Her eyes are closed and her upper lip is pulled high to show her amusement. Many times I have had this reaction from her after a passionate meeting of flesh and I have never understood it. With a boldness I didn’t know I possessed I manage to speak around my uneven breaths. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” She replies breathlessly dropping her arm to her side on the mattress and turning her head towards me to meet my gaze. “I’m just happy.”

“Happy?” The question leaves my lips without thought and I roll the word around in my mind. Trying to clinically dissect it, examine it so I might better comprehend.

She watches me for a moment, her eyes darting back and forth. After several long moments of silence she turns on the spot, pressing her knee against mine in an indication for me to lift it so she is between them and able to entangle our limbs. Her fingers pass across my temple, gently coaxing me from the deep contemplation. “Aren’t you happy?” She asks and I know that the question is born from her insecurities when she moves her gaze away from my eyes.

I find myself struck dumb, not knowing how to answer her honestly. Of course I know the meaning of the word but the actual feeling. That’s something entirely different. It is not something that has ever been fully explained to me, nor even inferred in any way. I know I am content in this moment, having her close, having the safety of a home to go back to. My worries and fears will return, of that I have no doubt, but right at this moment I could wish for nothing more. “I think so.” I call out into the heavy silence that has shrouded us.

Her hand dips lower and covers my cheek, her thumb stoking the skin she finds there. Wearing that smile that I have seen a hundred times, the sadness in her eyes a direct contrast to the curve of her lips. Yet another gesture I don’t quite understand but this one I do not query. Terrified on some deep level of the answer. She blinks and a single tear runs over the bridge of her nose, her jaw quivering as the smile fades. She wets her lips and casts her gaze down between our bodies, gathering courage beneath her breast. I hear her sniff back her sorrow before meeting my eyes. “What happened to you?”

My heart stops dead in my chest and for the first time I truly wish to answer her.
- 29
- 30
- 31
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

By The Light