Chapter Nine - She hated how confused and flustered she was becoming, she knew how wrong her thoughts were; her sister and a schoolgirl, merlin she was becoming as depraved Bellatrix, or so it would seem. Smiling to herself, Narcissa thought of something else to distract herself from the madness, revenge. Plotting revenge was one of her favourite past times, and Bellatrix had betrayed her trust, after all, she deserved to be punished. But how best to punish her sister? Bellatrix wasn't the easiest individual to exact vengeance on, for her there was such a fine line between pain and pleasure, and how Narcissa was going to enjoy treading it.

Chapter Ten

Hermione paced back and forth. I must be insane to be here. Her sanity was already in question, yet still; here she was, wearing down a small patch of grass in front of the gates to Malfoy Manor. She had agreed to meet Narcissa Malfoy in her home, alone. Foolish. Why was she so foolish, she had told no one where she was going, just that she had something to look into, and might not be back for a couple of days. Meaning, no one would worry if she didn't return home that night. Stupid, stupid! She could have said no, or ignored the invitation all together, something had drawn her here; call it curiosity. The young witch clearly had no will power to refuse an invitation from one of the Black sisters. Thoughtless. Hermione wondered what had happened to the girl she used to know. She used to be able to rely on her own judgement, yet lately it seemed she had lost all the cautiousness and intellect she had once possessed, clearly along with her sanity and sense of reason. Reckless. Why hadn't she insisted they meet in a public place? Sighing to herself, she shook her head in frustration, she knew the answer, and she hated to admit it. News of Hermione Granger and Narcissa Malfoy' convening would ricochet around the wizarding world with untold consequences. That still doesn't explain why I didn't say no…

The grounds were gargantuan; there was no other word for them. They went on as far as the eyes could see, in all directions. Dark woods stood to the left of the Manor; they didn't look dissimilar to the forbidden forest, and somehow seemed apt upon the Malfoy estate. The grass looked bitter and prickly, like it had been scorched by the high sun, and drenched by the rains, making it hardy and uninviting. To the right of the house the lake seemed to creep over the land, devouring all in its path. Bottomless and thick, it looked like poisoned treacle, and Hermione thought anyone who entered would surely be asphyxiated. The large wrought iron gates stood intimidatingly at the start of a n absurdly long driveway, and Hermione was failing to find her inner Gryffindor courage to open them. She continued to pace back and forth, breathing as deeply as possible, as the early morning mist, low and heavy, tried its best to strangle her. She tried to make sense of the scramble in her brain.

"Do you muggles not know how to ring a bell?" Narcissa's cold sneering voice shocked Hermione back to the present, her hairs standing on end and a chill running through her, she turned around to look her host in her ice blue eyes, before her gaze wandered over the rest of her face – she was taken aback by how beautiful Narcissa was, and was unsure if she had always been this beautiful, or if being here, in her own element made her this way. Perhaps she had given herself a makeover like Bellatrix, but Hermione somehow doubted that she had needed too.

"I know how to ring a bell!" Hermione spat back, she was annoyed instantly by Narcissa's smug degradation, and by the more confusing thoughts beginning to consume her brain.

Narcissa half smirked, and half smiled as she placed a finger on Hermione's forehead, massaging gently. "Don't frown, it will age you." And with that she turned on her heels and walked down the driveway towards her home, the grand gateway evaporating into a puff of purple smoke as she walked through it. Hermione had to run to catch up, the gates forming once more behind her. The closer she got to the house the more she felt the sickness rise inside her. Why here. The young witch gripped her wand tightly, her eyes darting around her alerted.

Narcissa took them into a large drawing room; from the décor and possessions she assumed it to be Narcissa's personal space. The obsidian furniture and the ice blue, royal purple and emerald green of the decorations offset the light stone of the walls. She was grateful, not to be taken into the great hall: though she had come to terms with what had happened on her last visit to Malfoy Manor, it was not a room she wished to see again in a hurry. Now inside she felt the awkwardness fall around them like a veil. She stood nervously by the empty fireplace, as Narcissa surveyed her across the room. Her hostess offered her a drink, which she gladly took, even if it was only nine in the morning. The whisky burned her insides delightfully, and several glasses later they both felt slightly more comfortable.

"Mrs Malfoy as lovely as it is to talk to you about charms, I'm pretty sure that's not why you called me here…" Hermione looked down into her forth glass of firewhiskey as she swirled it rhythmically, in an attempt to soothe her nerves.

"No, that is not why I asked you here." Narcissa nodded in agreement, pausing a little before continuing. "I wanted to ask you why you were sleeping with my sister."

Hermione choked on a big gulp of her drink, she hadn't seen that one coming. When the spluttering and coughing subsided her cheeks were crimson and she dared not look Narcissa in the eye. Hermione was now seated, whilst the older witch sat perched atop her desk, her long slender legs crossed. One of her black stilettoes hung from her foot as she rotated her ankle subconsciously.

"Don't play coy now, it was you who brought her indiscretions to my attention after all. " Rising from her seat, she stalked over to Hermione, standing above her as she topped up the amber liquid. "So…?"

The cut crystal of the glass made the whiskey dance an almost hypnotic, mesmerising rainbow spectrum across the young girls delicate hands. "I um…I… I don't know…" Hermione stuttered, a frown etched deep into her face, as she stared at the fluttering colours. This was a question she still didn't know the answer to, not really.

Narcissa sat herself next to Hermione on the orate gothic Victorian chaise longue with its black mahogany scrolls and midnight satin upholstery. "Did you enjoy it?"

Hermione felt her cheeks flush even hotter, both at the question and the close proximity of the question-mistress, and if she sat any closer she would be on her lap, a thought which made her throat tighten and her mouth dry. Narcissa was a good few inches taller than her and Hermione couldn't help but look at her heaving breasts, as they sat there so close and inviting, right in her eye line. Shaking her head the young witch rose abruptly, turning away from her inquisitor, trying to hide from the look in her eyes, a look not dissimilar to the one her sister had had. She downed the last of her whiskey again, her hand shaking as she picked up the crystal carafe, letting it slosh into the bottom of her glass, some escaping over the side, and over her fingers. She had definitely had more than enough liquor for today.

Narcissa followed Hermione over to the window, following Hermione's gaze out across the grounds, the mist beginning to clear, and you could see further into the distance now. "You know, I'd be pretty sure you were lying if you said you didn't… She is, after all a fantastic fuck…"

Surprisingly unfazed by Narcissa's comment, Hermione turned around, looking up into Narcissa's eyes. "And I suppose you brought me here to tell me you are better?! You thought you could ply me with alcohol and seduce me. She told you I was an easy lay did she? DID SHE?!" Her chest heaved as she glared at Narcissa, the confusion and whiskey muddling her mind.

Cocking her head to one side, she drank in the sight young flustered witch before her. She really was an attractive sight. "I was hoping I wouldn't have to seduce you, but if I did it would be through charm and desire, not by weakening your inhibitions." She took Hermione's left hand on her own, bringing her fingers to her mouth and sucking them dry. "You know it's a mortal sin to waste such good liquor."

Hermione's mind grew fuzzy, the alcohol had taken ahold, and the erotic display before her was taking affect. She nodded dumbly, her eyes fixated on Narcissa's full lips, as she bit down on the bottom right corner of her mouth, as she smirked happily. "I… Should probably go…" Hermione's voice crackled with the bare hint of a whisper. "I shouldn't be here!" She went to leave, but was stopped from doing so by two hands gently holding her hips firmly in place. The young witch's eyes looked to the floor, desperate to retain some level of control, of dignity.

"Before you go…" Narcissa stood close to the girl, looking down into her sweet face. She really was attractive, in a girl next-door kind of way, a real English Rose. "Just one kiss –" Hermione pulled to get away but Narcissa's grip held her fast. "No trickery, no expectations, just one kiss to… To see"

At a painfully slow pace, Hermione's eyes gradually flickered up from the ground to rest on Narcissa's face. "One kiss?!"

The blonde witch beamed in an instant at Hermione's partial agreement, she'd have taken less as an acceptance, and so she was thrilled with this response.

Fighting the urge to laugh at the grin filling Narcissa's face, she couldn't help but acknowledge the warm feeling inside. She was just so sweet and somehow innocent in her nature; how was she and Bellatrix so close? She couldn't fathom it. Hermione couldn't help but mirror Narcissa's smile, and this is how they stayed for several minutes; Narcissa's hands holding her close until a quiet awkwardness fell around them. Always the perfect hostess Narcissa broke the silence, offering that they take morning tea in the drawing room, which Hermione readily agreed to.

The Malfoy drawing room was surprisingly light and colourful, a vast contrast to the rest of the Manor. It was every bit an English aristocratic drawing room, complete with yet another chaise lounge Hermione noted, throw cushions, books, and even a pot plant or two. One side of the room led into an impressively grand greenhouse of some of the most impressive plants she had ever seen. "I didn't know you were such a botanist…" Hermione whispered in awe as she walked through the lush wonderland, eyes wide and wondrous.

"Herbology was always one of my strongest subjects, and now I find it such a relaxing and rewarding hobby" She let her hand reach out to touch a leaf gently. "You know, I don't know the last time anyone else was in here…" her voice sad and distant. "I don't suppose it would surprise you to hear that my sister, husband and son are none too interested in cultivating plants for potions, medicines or aesthetic reasons."

Hermione couldn't help but feel sorry for Narcissa, she had always suspected she lived a lonely existence, and that theory was quickly being proved.

"You know, you remind me of me at your age" Hermione was taken aback for a second; she was nothing like this heinous privileged bully. "I guess charms, transfiguration and herbology are amongst your best subjects?" She asked, genuinely interested.

"Amongst others." Her response had been short and sharp, and she immediately chastised herself, seeing the hurt look flickering across her hostess's eyes before turning her back on her, walking back to the drawing room. "We should take that tea now."

Okay so this was a short chapter, I struggled for ages to work out how to go from this scene to the next, and decided instead to just end the chapter here. The next chapter will be Narcissa/Hermione smut