Feel the hypertension, until you're blue in the face
So, little piggies are flitting about the sky with their purple feathery wings. The Ron/Hermione and Harry/Hermione shippers have given up on their endless debates in favor of Hermione/Ginny smut. Sirius Black has risen from the dead and Severus has given up his grudge against Harry.
Behold and despair, for I have written FIC.
Title: Aggression
Summary: A story of questions, lies, and anger. Set at the end of OotP. Yeah, I know, it's a crappy summary.
Pairing: Hermione/Millicent
Category: Angst, angst and a thimbleful more of angst. What else would you expect from me?
Rating: Either a hard R or a light NC-17. I can't decide which.
Spoilers: Up through OotP obviously.
"Aggression"
Does it start with instinct,
a deep-rooted memory;
The will to survive, to dominate the tribe,
protect your territory?
Filtered through experience
from within your trouble life;
when you've tried to reason and no one will listen
what else can you do but fight?
Hermione was given no warning. One moment she stood, staring at the fire, hoping that Harry would return from Grimmauld Place quickly. The next, hands were propelling her roughly across the room to the opposite wall.
She slammed into it, the breath rushing out of her, and was expertly flipped, so that her back was to the wall. Two strong hands grabbed her arms and pinioned them above her head, neatly cutting off any use of her wand. Blinking her eyes to rid her vision of the stars that had resulted from banging her head, Hermione saw Millicent Bulstrode, not two feet from her face, braced and effectively trapping her.
"Bulstrode?" gasped out Hermione.
"Granger." Millicent acknowledged her, in a pleased voice, without making any other moves.
Hermione's eyes flicked over her captor's shoulder to the door. Draco Malfoy waltzed in, wearing a very smug look. Behind him, Umbridge waddled with a priggish smile and a strange glint in her eye.
Oh no. Hermione immediately moved to get away, kicking out. However, Millicent anticipated her move and simply leaned closer, squashing Hermione flat against the wall, cutting off all chance of movement. Millicent's hot breath gusted over her face and Hermione stopped struggling.
Millicent's dark eyes stared into Hermione's brown ones. "So, Granger, are you going to behave? Or shall I have to remain pressed up against you like this?"
Hermione was suddenly reminded of her confrontation with Millicent during the dueling club in their second year. She had been just a little frightened at being paired with the Slytherin, who was large and square, and who already had a reputation for causing fights. After Lockhart had counted to three, Hermione had tried to cast Expelliarmus but Millicent had dodged the spell easily, with a grace that belied her large frame. Before Hermione could think of another spell to cast, the Slytherin had closed the distance between them and knocked Hermione's wand out of her hand.
She remembered trying to push Millicent away but it was a useless action, as beneficial as trying to push down a brick wall. The Slytherin pulled her into a headlock and she remembered smelling the strong scents of cat and juniper on Millicent's robes as her face rubbed close. She remembered feeling helpless because, despite the sniggerings in the girls lavatories of the Slytherin being a fat hag, Millicent was strong and had a considerable amount of muscle. The girl would not be budged if she didn't want to be.
That helpless feeling was very similar to how she was feeling now. Hermione was helpless against Millicent's strength and while she hated it, she couldn't suppress the shiver of something at being at the mercy of the Slytherin girl.
Hermione's wrenched her thoughts from memories and fixed her eyes on Millicent's lips as they curved into a smirk. She nodded once, curtly, not daring to trust her own voice, not wanting to hear it quaver.
Millicent backed off, slowly, to her previous position. Her hands kept Hermione's arms in an iron grip, her wide body giving Hermione's a scant foot of personal space. Millicent impenetrable gaze continued to study her as Umbridge moved to the fireplace.
* * *
Millicent was happy. Pleased. Thrilled, to be absolutely accurate. She had hoped, when ordered to barge into Umbridge's office, that there would be someone to manhandle. Crabbe, Goyle and Harris had got to the two Gryffindor twits, Weasley girl and Longbottom, more quickly than she, and Millicent didn't like to be left out; she loved nothing more than to use her height and size to physical ends.
Millicent hadn't even recognized the body that had been standing in the office. She had simply registered it and moved to disable it. When, after trapping it against the wall, she had seen Granger's confused eyes staring at her, Millicent had wanted to crow with delight. One of Potter's miserable friends! Not one of the hangers-on, like the Weasley girl or sniveling Longbottom or that odd Ravenclaw girl.
She had seen Hermione's eyes flicker over her shoulder and widen in sudden understanding. Granger's body tensed and Millicent had moved without thinking, flattening her body against the Mudblood's. A small gasp broke from Granger at the impact and the girl stared helplessly into Millicent's eyes.
Millicent thrilled at having one of Potter's cronies caught so effectively. Resisting the urge to snigger, Millicent growled, "So, Granger, are you going to behave?" She, however, couldn't stop her lips from curling into a satisfied smile.
Those brown eyes that seemed so frightened flickered to Millicent's lips. The girl managed a quick nod of the head.
Somewhat disappointed that Granger hadn't decided to put up a fight, Millicent retreated, giving the girl back a modicum of space.
What happened next did not matter to Millicent. She was vaguely aware that Potter had been pulled out of the fireplace, of the order from Umbridge to rid Granger of her wand, of the other Slytherins entering, of a big to-do happening. However, she did not care one iota about Umbridge's agenda. All of her attention, every fiber of her being, was concentrated on keeping Granger trapped; none of what else was happening really registered. That is, until Granger spoke.
"No!" the girl shrieked in her ear and Millicent winced. "Professor Umbridge - it's illegal."
Abruptly Millicent was dropped back into the little drama surrounding her. She narrowed her eyes and concentrated closely on the words being spoken and on Granger, quivering in front of her.
"The Minister wouldn't want you to break the law, Professor Umbridge!" Granger was now saying, body shaking a bit.
"What Cornelius doesn't know won't hurt him," Millicent heard from behind her. "He never knew I ordered Dementors to go after Potter last summer, but he was delighted to be given the chance to expel him, all the same."
Granger stiffened in Millicent's arms, in sudden comprehension. Millicent strengthened her hold on the Gryffindor, just in case she thought to try to break free in anger.
"It was you?" gasped Potter from somewhere near the fireplace. "You sent the Dementors after me?"
"Somebody had to act," Umbridge said in a fascinating breathy voice. The woman sounded positively orgasmic, finally being able to confess her actions. "They were all bleating about silencing you somehow - discrediting you - but I was the one who actually did something about it...only you wriggled out of that one, didn't you, Potter? Not today though, not now - " There was a moment's pause and then, "Cruc-"
"NO!" shouted Granger and Millicent winced again. "No - Harry - we'll have to tell her!"
"No way!" yelled the miserable Boy Who Lived.
Only Millicent was close enough to even see what happened next. She saw Granger's eyes narrow in furious thought. She actually saw the girl come to a lightning-fast conclusion. And in that moment, Millicent knew, without a doubt, that Granger was going to lie fantastically.
"We'll have to, Harry," Granger said, suddenly wilting. "She'll force it out of you anyway, what's...what's the point?"
Granger then locked eyes with Millicent and then Millicent could see that Hermione knew she knew. A second went by in which Granger's eyes pleaded, they pleaded with her to not give it away. To not tell Umbridge what only what Millicent knew.
And then Granger began to cry rather sloppily over the back of Millicent's robes.
Millicent danced away, letting go of Granger's arms but still holding her wand, both disgusted and confused. The Gryffindor was lying and now crying and it seemed absurdly funny.
To tell or not to tell, the Slytherin's mind whispered softly to her as she watched Granger "confess" to the Umbridge cow. There are advantages to both, so which are you going to pick? A part of her was surprised and rather impressed that Granger had the guts to lie to a professor while the other part thought the lie was incredibly weak and thus not worth of any admiration whatsoever. Umbridge is a complete idiot for not seeing through it.
"I'm not showing...them," the Mudblood shrilled and suddenly peeked at Millicent through her fingers. Those eyes, for a second, turned from fearful to pleading and Millicent abruptly realized that she had already made her decision when she had first locked gazes with Granger.
That's fine, then. It will be interesting to hold this over her head and see what comes of it, the Slytherin's practical mind whispered to her.
After Granger, Umbridge, and Potter had left the office, there was another brief scuffle as the Gryffindors tried to get out of the Slytherins' grasps. Millicent watched, unconcerned, as their struggles ceased. When the Gryffindors had realized the futility of the situation, there was a moment of silence that stretched over several minutes. As the lull began to unsettle everyone's nerves, Warrington locked eyes with Millicent.
Caleb Warrington loved picking on people; that was no secret. As the Gryffindors were already humiliated, there wasn't any need to bait them. Malfoy, with his father, was certainly off limits. Crabbe and Goyle were simply too slow to adequately understand his barbs. Hope Harris was a lackluster Slytherin, perfectly average in every way, and very hard to insult as a result. That left Millicent as the only one in the room worth bothering.
"Bulstrode, nice for you to have been liberated of your Gryffindor."
Millicent narrowed her eyes, on guard. "Yes, it is convenient, Warrington. Do you have a point?"
He grinned, clutching Weasley tighter. "Well, yeah. Why are you still hanging around here, Bully Bulstrode?"
She ignored the childish nickname; it wasn't as if she hadn't heard it before. "Pardon me if I doubt your abilities to hold a few measly Gryffindors captive. After all, I did pound your face at the last Slytherin Quidditch game. Wasn't sure if Weasley could too."
Warrington's face darkened. Slytherin House often played extracurricular Quidditch games for competition. As Millicent wasn't allowed on the official Slytherin team, she took especial care to play at these games against her Housemates. In the last game, she had delighted in slamming the Bludger towards anything that moved. Warrington had received the brunt of it, missing the Quaffle due to being knocked off of his broom several times.
"Quidditch is entirely different from manhandling Gryffindors. And you just wish you were man enough to be on the real team."
"Whatever, Warrington," Millicent said, turning her gaze elsewhere, hoping he would drop the conversation.
Unfortunately, he didn't want the exchange halted. "Poor Bully, sad at being a girl, eh? I noticed you were having fun with Granger there. Maybe you were born into the wrong team."
"What the fuck are you driving at Warrington?" Malfoy drawled, leaning up against one of Umbridge's office walls, his eyes glinting.
"Nothing, Malfoy. I just wanted to know if Millie here got off on holding Granger," sneered Warrington, who was still holding Weasley securely. "She's plain for a Mudblood but I suppose you'd get horny for her, since you haven't much to look at in the mirror. Maybe her looks would rub off on you some."
He was ridiculing her! Millicent moved quickly across the room and grabbed Warrington by his robes. She brought his face inches from hers. "My name is Millicent, you hairy, no good, bloody waster."
"Oh, for fuck's sake, Millie, let me go, I'm losing my grip here," he squawked, hands scrabbling to keep their hold on his captive.
"Warrington, you git," she heard Draco warn but it was too late. Millicent had dropped the sixth year boy and walloped him a good one in the face.
Warrington stumbled back, losing his grip entirely on Weasley. The Gryffindor immediately lunged at Harris, who was holding the Weasley girl. Harris, in turn, was knocked off-balance and Millicent grinned, ready for a brawl.
Unfortunately, it was over too quickly for Millicent to enjoy it. The Weasley boy got another one on the lip and she managed to "accidentally" kick Warrington in the balls before a spell stunned her into blackness.
* * *
Meet me in the library at 10.
H.G.
Millicent strode into the library at precisely 10:00 PM. The room in which so many Hogwarts students had camped during the O.W.L.s and exams was completely deserted. Deserted, that was, except for the lone girl sitting at the table at the room's far end.
Millicent approached the table somewhat warily. She had received the letter via owl, and had burnt it almost immediately after. There weren't many people with the initials "H.G." for her to be seen receiving such a message. And now she wondered if it had actually even existed. After all, why would a Gryffindor ask to meet with a Slytherin?
Hermione looked up from her book at the sound of footsteps and nodded calmly. "Millicent."
"Granger." Millicent snagged the chair on the opposite side of the table and sat. The chair creaked under the Slytherin's ponderous bulk, but held.
They sat like that for several minutes, just looking at the table, the stacks, anything but each other. As the seconds ticked by, Millicent grew more and more impatient. Would the girl just speak already?
"Pardon me, Granger, but it was your note I received this morning at breakfast, correct?"
The girl nodded. "Yes."
"Well then, I have answered your summons. What is it you would wish to speak of? I really haven't all night to sit here and listen to you breathe."
Hermione flushed. "I'm sorry, I was trying to think of the best way to approach this."
"Head-on would be the Gryffindor way," Millicent drawled in her best pseudo-impression of Draco Malfoy. "From the rear would suit a Slytherin. Take your pick."
Hermione bit her lip and nodded decisively. "Right. Why didn't you tell?"
"Tell who, Granger?"
"Tell Umbridge, Bulstrode."
"Tell Umbridge what?" Millicent countered sweetly.
Hermione ground her teeth. "Tell Umbridge that I was lying."
Millicent grinned. "Lying about what exactly?"
Hermione leaned forward. "Lying about the stupid, sodding weapon," she hissed.
"Oh, you were lying, were you?"
Hermione stood up abruptly, the chair making a screeching noise on the floor as it slid backwards. "That's it. This was a mistake."
"Oh Granger, sit, I was just having fun." Millicent smiled as pleasantly as she could until the Gryffindor slowly sank back down into her chair. "Interesting that you would care so much about the motivations behind something that worked out to your advantage."
"Well, I'm interesting like that." Hermione stared hard at Millicent. "I'd like to know when the other shoe is going to drop."
"And what makes you think I would do it for any other reason than a silly lark?"
Hermione frowned. "Because it doesn't make sense. Umbridge was making the Slytherins the elite of the school. You had all the control, all the power. Why would you so willingly go behind her..."
"Umbridge was and is an idiot," Millicent snapped out, cutting Granger short. "Just because she favored us Slytherins doesn't mean I don't loathe her. Her lessons were an abomination and if she had been at Beauxbatons or Durmstrang or any other wizard school, she would've been kicked out on her sorry arse!"
Eyes widening, Hermione nodded slightly. "Alright, you don't approve of Umbridge. Fine. But are you saying you deliberately worked against her, were undermining her behind her back?"
Millicent leaned back in her chair, wincing slightly at a warning creak. "I'm not saying anything but that if a Slytherin were to undermine her, that is a particularly Slytherinish way to do it."
Hermione's brow crinkled in confusion. "But still, why wouldn't you take the opportunity to call out a Gryffindor?"
"Perhaps I like the thought of a Gryffindor who owes me something."
"But you just said before that you didn't say anything on a lark!"
Millicent rolled her eyes. "Aren't you paying attention to this conversation, Granger? I asked you why you think I would do it for any other reason than amusement. For all you being lauded as so intelligent, I'm becoming quite disappointed."
Hermione stood up again in a flurry. "So you admit that you did it for a bribe!"
"Maybe yes, maybe no." Millicent watched Hermione's mouth open again and cut her off. "But now that the subject has been broached, I don't believe I would ever refuse such a favor."
Hermione glowered. "And just what type of favor might you want?"
Millicent gazed upwards. "Actually, I was curious about something," she said, ignoring the question entirely. "When you lead Umbridge and Harry into the Forbidden Forest, did you know what might happen?"
"What?"
"Did you mean for Umbridge to be caught by the centaurs?"
Hermione stared at her, eyes blinking owlishly. "I...you...she was going to use an...an Unforgiveable on Harry! I had to do something!"
Millicent stood swiftly. "But did you know that you were leading Umbridge to a possible death. I mean, the centaurs and all, they're quite dangerous. Just like the Forest is." She paused, looking closer at Hermione. "Were you counting on it?"
* * *
Hermione stared at Millicent. Through all the days after the Department of Mysteries, through her recovery from Dolohov's partial curse, through the last days of term, no one had posed this question to her. Not Dumbledore, not the Ministry, not Ron, not Harry.
She had thought about it, in the early hours of the morning in the hospital wing, watching Umbridge's wide-eyed sleep from her bed. What had she intended exactly? Her worry for Harry had been so strong that she hadn't the time to think things through entirely.
She knew that getting caught by the centaurs was part of the plan. Their speed, their strength, it was perhaps the only thing she could think of at that moment to overcome Umbridge. But hadn't she also known that the centaurs would probably kill anyone else who came into the Forest from Hogwarts? And that Umbridge, as an adult, would certainly receive no pity from them?
And now that Umbridge was quite traumatized, wasn't Hermione happy that she was so?
Millicent didn't know the last bit about the centaurs. She hadn't been with Hermione and Harry when they had met Grawp. She only knew that the centaurs were dangerous in their own right. And yet, she had been the only one to ask the question that Hermione could barely ask herself.
When leading Umbridge into the Forest that fateful day, had she meant to kill her?
Abruptly, Hermione grew angry. Furious. How dare the Slytherin ask that! How dare she even guess? She wasn't a part of the fight against Voldemort; it wasn't her right.
Millicent continued through Hermione's stunned silence. "After all, weren't there other ways to stop her instead of the Forest? Going into the Great Hall during lunch and screaming would've created a big enough diversion. The other teachers would've probably even helped you. You could've tripped, hurt yourself, demanded Umbridge take you to Pomfrey first. There were other ways to distract her. But you chose to go into the Forest." Millicent paused. "How interesting that nobody has called you on this before. It must pay off to be the best friend of the famous Harry Potter."
Hermione couldn't remain still any longer. She flung her hand back and slapped Millicent with all her might across the cheek.
"Don't you dare say that! Nobody treats me any differently and nobody ought to treat Harry any differently either! It's not his fault he's famous!"
Millicent's eyes glittered as she rubbed her cheek. "But you haven't asked Dumbledore why he hasn't punished you yet. I know you haven't been punished; the school would have been echoing with it if you had. You've taken advantage of being Potter's friend, Granger. Or else, you've taken advantage of being the professor's Pet."
"You don't...you don't know! You accuse me of being a murderer when your friends' parents, when your parents are trying to kill Harry every day!" Hermione's hands balled into fists and she practically vibrated where she stood. "Don't be hypocritical with me, on your high horse! You don't get that right!"
Millicent leaned forward, staring Hermione in the face. "What my parents do or what my friends' parents might do have no effect on me. I didn't lead Umbridge into the Forest," she hissed.
"But you didn't let Umbridge know I was lying! You were responsible TOO!" Hermione shrieked.
"Oh, you can't land your guilt on me! I didn't know what you were planning to do, you stupid GIT!" Millicent howled back.
"GIRLS!" rang a voice.
Both Hermione and Millicent jumped apart and turned their heads towards the main desk in the library where Madam Pince stood, glaring.
"I do believe that it is well after hours and that you should both be getting back to your dormitories. Hermione, I did say you could stay here, provided that you be quiet, and I think screaming is quite the opposite of the definition of quiet. I ask both of you to leave this instant."
Now even angrier that Millicent had caused her to earn Madam Pince's ire, Hermione turned on heel and left without another word.
* * *
Millicent followed Granger's furious pace out of the library.
"Granger. GRANGER!" Millicent bellowed. The figure ahead of her faltered and then halted. Millicent pounded forward, grabbed the other girl's arm and turned her around.
"What do you want, Bulstrode?" Granger spat, anger lacing each word.
"You think you can end this conversation that easily, Granger? You haven't answered any of my questions." Millicent tightened her grip on the girl's arm, watching Hermione's resulting wince with satisfaction.
"I've got what I've wanted out of you," the other girl said, pulling a bit ineffectually on her arm. "I know you didn't tell just to get something out of me, not because you might possibly be a decent sort underneath. I was foolish to ever believe a Slytherin could really be decent!"
Millicent's fury rose again. How dare the little Mudblood dismiss her like that! How dare she! Millicent lowered her face to the struggling girl and hissed, "Oh, but I haven't got what I've wanted out of you. You owe me, Granger, as you said, and I intend to take you up on it."
And then, before Millicent could consciously think about what she was doing, she pulled Granger up to her face and kissed her furiously on the mouth. It was a brutal kiss, mostly involving teeth and scrapes and biting. But Granger was stronger than Millicent had guessed and managed to wrench her face away, eyes opened comically wide.
"What are you doing?" the Mudblood gasped.
Furious that she had been interrupted, Millicent flung Granger against the corridor wall. Moving quickly, she pushed the other girl's front flat against it, her own body moving flush against Granger's back. Millicent leaned into the curve of Hermione's ear.
"You and me, Granger, you and me. That's what I want. If you accept, all is repaid, all is forgotten. Just a quick little," and Millicent paused here to jerk her hips against the other girl's body, "and you can stop worrying about my...my motivations."
They were both silent for a moment except for the heaving breathing. Then Granger moved with startling accuracy, stomping on Millicent's foot, elbowing her in the gut, and knocking her head backwards against Millicent's own. Millicent, more startled than anything, abruptly staggered back a few paces and that's all that the Mudblood needed.
Granger whipped around, her wand out and shouted, "Petrificus Totalus!" The spell slammed into Millicent and before she could even think, she was laying flat on her back in the middle of the corridor outside the library.
* * *
Hermione stood breathing hard, wand still flung out, shaking. She half expected Millicent to resist the spell with her pure strength. However, when nothing of the sort happened, she lowered her arm and slumped exhaustedly against the corridor wall. Well, at least SOMETHING has gone right tonight.
After she had regained control of herself, Hermione slowly walked to where Millicent was laying. The girl's face was stuck in an unflattering state of surprise, arms tightly bound to her large body, her entire spine poker-straight.
Leave her here, Hermione's mind commanded coldly. Somebody will find her soon; Filch most likely. She'll get in trouble, which she deserves. And she won't tell them I petrified her. She wouldn't dare. She should be caught by Filch for the things she said - for what she said about Umbridge and me. Just turn around and go back to the common room.
Yet Hermione continued to stand there, wand clutched loosely in her fingertips, staring at the frozen Millicent. The words - Millicent's words - continued to echo in her mind. That's what I want. They circled and spiraled around, tangling up any thoughts of leaving.
When else would she get a chance like this? A chance to be completely unlike herself, do something that no one would ever believe her capable of. Be with Millicent. No, her brain corrected, if you're thinking of doing it, say the right word. Fuck Millicent. Or have her fuck you.
Hermione shivered and turned to the wall, thinking furiously.
The events of the past days, Umbridge, Kreacher, the Centaurs, Grawp, the Ministry, Prophecies, Death Eaters, Hexes, Sirius, death, death, death...it all overcrowded her mind. The impossibility of what had just happened made it all seem even more surreal. What she knew for certain was that she had no desire to go back to Gryffindor Tower.
It was then she made her decision.
Turning back to the prone Slytherin, Hermione commanded, "Wingardium Leviosa," and Millicent's body gently rose. Grabbing a foot, Hermione pulled the floating body down the corridor to one of the many, many empty classrooms within Hogwarts. The castle changed continuously, with only certain portions of the school spelled to remain static. Chances were that Hermione would never again be able to find this particular room. But that was just fine, as far as she was concerned.
Pushing Millicent into the room, Hermione pulled the door shut. She turned around and very Muggle-ishly locked the door. She then gently directed Millicent's body down to the floor, took a deep breath, and said, "Finite Incantatem."
For all that Millicent was huge, she could move fast. Within two eyeblinks, the Slytherin was on her feet, face growing steadily red. Before the girl could say a thing, Hermione very obviously put her wand down on one of the tables cluttering the room. She turned her gaze to meet Millicent's directly and said, "I accept."
* * *
Millicent was furious, absolutely incensed. That filthy little Mudblood had petrified her! Millicent quivered and prepared to rush at the Gryffindor when the girl gently put down her wand. Then she said, too calmly, "I accept."
Millicent's jaw dropped. She hadn't expected this, no, not at all. She had excepted Granger to be repulsed, to continue their satisfying fight. The girl was not supposed to bloody accept! It was a bluff, a way to regain control over the conversation. But the bluff had been called and Millicent wasn't quite sure what to do.
"Didn't you hear me? I accept your proposition. 'You and me,' you said. Well, here we are." Those eyes, those filthy eyes looked challengingly at her. "Or perhaps you're too dense to understand."
Fury ran through Millicent's veins and she didn't so much act as react. In a moment, she had Granger back against the door, Millicent's body completely dwarfing the Gryffindor's. Her mind snickered at the deja vu (third time's the charm), but her mouth lowered to capture Granger's ever-talking mouth in hers.
It was another aggressive kiss, with Millicent setting a frantic pace and Granger doing her best to simply stay caught up. The bigger girl's teeth raked Granger's lips and bit lightly. As Granger opened up her mouth to protest, Millicent slid her tongue inside. Swallowing the Gryffindor's gasp, Millicent kept moving, claiming every crevice of her mouth, keeping the other girl off-balance.
Because if she was in-balance, she might...
Choking back a growl, Millicent shut out that thought by using one hand to pull off Granger's robes in one mighty heave, ignoring the girl's wince. The metal clasps holding it together broke off spinning, but Millicent didn't notice. Fumbling a bit, she slid a hand up Granger's prim sweater and grabbed a bra-covered breast.
At that, Granger squeaked and pulled back violently. The Gryffindor opened up her mouth, possibly to argue, but Millicent then began to squeeze and stroke the breast as best she could one-handed. Granger gulped and her eyes went glassy as Millicent continued.
"Like that?" Millicent chuckled as Hermione could only manage to blink and gape. "So, the rumors were wrong. You haven't been banging Potter or Weasley. Or else this," Millicent gave a pinch that made Hermione start, "wouldn't be such a novelty."
Abruptly, Hermione's eyes focused. "Do you Slytherins have absolutely nothing else to do but gossip about us Gryffindors. One would think you were...obsessed!" Hermione gasped out the last word as Millicent gave a particularly vicious squeeze.
"Not obsessed, just observant." Millicent claimed the mouth again for another hard kiss and then pulled back to yank the sweater up. It got caught around Hermione's head and after a bit of useless tugging, Millicent deceased her efforts long enough for the Gryffindor to disentangle herself from her clothing. The sweater fell to the floor and the bra after it.
Abruptly Hermione wrapped her arms around her chest, blushing. Millicent paused and frowned. Why was she doing that? When the sudden silence became pronounced, Hermione glanced up. "I...um...never...ah...unclothed...they're...ugly small...sorry..."
Millicent stopped the disjointed ramblings by capturing Hermione's stuttering mouth and pulling her tongue into her own. Her arms pulled Hermione's away from her chest and stroked her sides. Why is she so embarrassed? a small part of Millicent's mind wondered. She's not ugly, not in the slightest. It's me
who should be embarrassed, not her.
When Hermione stopped trying to cover up her breasts, Millicent broke the kiss and began to teeth-graze her way down. Pushing Granger's flighty hands away yet again, Millicent seized one small nipple in her teeth and bit down slightly. The terrified squeak that followed was oddly stimulating and Millicent quickly laved her tongue over the reddened bud, stroking it to complete perkiness.
"I...oh...OH...that is...I don't..." Millicent spared a quick glance upwards to see Hermione's head thrown back, her throat working convulsively. Turned on by the sight, the Slytherin switched to the other nipple, moving a hand to the one she had just left to stroke gently.
This continued for awhile, Millicent moving between both breasts. Millicent liked to hear the confused exclamations that Hermione kept making. Not such a sodding know-it-all now, is she, Millicent thought ruthlessly.
However, when Hermione's hand came to rest on the top of Millicent's head and stroke her black hair, the Slytherin stood and captured the other girl's mouth again. Grabbing her waist, Millicent half hoisted Hermione into the air, the other girl wrapping her legs obligingly around the Slytherin's waist, and stumbled around, trying to find one of the tables abandoned sparsely about the room.
Millicent banged into one and she stopped her kisses to push the Gryffindor onto the table, crawling on after her. The table creaked threateningly but after a quickly muttered charm, managed to stay upright under both Hermione's and Millicent's weight.
Millicent went straight back to abusing Hermione's mouth and rolling her nipples between her fingers. It was exhilarating to feel the murmurs, the vibrations, as Hermione moaned in response, their tongues entwined. To think that she, Millicent Bulstrode, ugliest girl at Hogwarts could stimulate such a reaction...the power was an addicting thing indeed.
Hermione's hands, again, found courage and inched their way to Millicent's shoulders. Between a kiss and a tweak, the Slytherin abruptly realized that Hermione was making steady work of the metal clasps on her own robes. With yet another growl, Millicent seize both hands in her massive grip and pulled them up over Hermione's head. The Gryffindor arched back at the movement, lifting her breasts enticingly, before settling back down on the table to stare at Millicent.
Millicent grinned as Hermione blinked, confused. The Slytherin used her free hand to trace the curve of Hermione's lips. The grin grew wicked and her hand made its way down Hermione's body.
Hermione's eye widened as the hand reached boldly under her skirt. Fingers caressed her knicker-covered crotch briefly and then went up to dip under the waistband. Millicent drank in Hermione's eyes as they continued to grow wider at the exploration of Millicent's fingers.
With a gentleness that surprised even her, Millicent eased a finger between the folds of skin she found, where it was warm and wet and slippery. She stroked that one finger against the skin underneath her, causing Hermione to gasp brokenly and close her eyes. Millicent rubbed a bit harder, against Hermione's clitoris, and drank in the gasps and exclamations that flew out of Hermione's smart mouth.
Falling into a type of rhythm, Millicent stroked firm and quick. Hermione's voice was now breathy, high, and delicious. The Gryffindor's hips bucked ineffectually against Millicent's bulk. Watching Hermione's response very carefully, Millicent swiftly slid the questing finger into the opening she found.
Hermione's eyes flew open and she stared at the ceiling, mouth a perfect 'O'. Receiving no other response, Millicent crooked the finger and began to move it in and out. As another rhythm began to build, Hermione's gaze shifted to lock with Millicent's and the Slytherin's feeling of power turned into something else.
* * *
When Millicent's finger slipped inside her, Hermione could do nothing but stare at the ceiling in astonishment. Millicent's finger. Inside. The thought was...strangely exciting, and Hermione felt a tightness growing deep in the pit of her belly. When Millicent's finger began to move, to create a friction that Hermione could not describe, her eyes found their way to Millicent's. As her finger continued to fuck her, as the feelings and tightness and tension continued to build, Hermione couldn't do anything but gasp breathlessly and stare at those impenetrable eyes.
Things quickly reached a frenzied pace and Hermione believed that she would, at the very least, begin to hyperventilate soon. Most probably explode instead. And then Millicent changed her angle slightly and Hermione can't think anymore; everything was going too fast and too tight. Somehow, she ripped her hands out of Millicent's grip to grasp the Slytherin's shoulder. Millicent bared her teeth and shoved in more fiercely. And then there was an explosion, something ripping the inside of Hermione apart and she couldn't even breathe through the exquisite sensation.
When the overwhelming feelings ebbed away, Hermione realized that she'd closed her eyes again. She opened them to see a smirking Millicent gazing down at her. When Millicent saw that she had Hermione's attention, she removed her finger from Hermione's knickers and brought it to her mouth. Slowly, the Slytherin sucked
on her finger, looking for Hermione's reaction.
Before this night, Hermione imagined she would have been horrified at such an action. However, at this moment, all she could feel was...well...hot. Ready to have another go.
Hermione gently lifted her hands to Millicent's face. She began to ghost them along the planes of it, making figure-eights over the full cheeks, drawing a gentle line down the prominent nose. When Millicent frowned, creating lines all over, Hermione smoothed them out.
Her hands rested from their journey on either side of Millicent's jaw, framing the Slytherin's head. Millicent, by now, had removed her finger from her mouth in surprise. Growing braver, Hermione pulled Millicent's head down towards her to place gentle kisses on her mouth.
Hermione's lips explored everywhere. Millicent's eyes fluttered shut and Hermione kissed the eyelids. Returning to Millicent's full, wide lips, Hermione gently probed into the Slytherin's mouth. One hand slowly fell from Millicent's jaw to continue her earlier work of undoing the clasps of the other girl's robe.
When she had undone four clasps, Millicent's eyes flew open with a startled gasp. The Slytherin lunged away from her, off the table, falling to the floor with a heavy thump. Utterly surprised, Hermione sat up to see that the girl had clambered to her feet and was backing away toward the door.
"Wait!" Hermione gasped, knowing that at the very least she had to find out what she had done wrong. "Millicent...what...what's the matter?"
The Slytherin girl stopped backing up and looked at her with a helpless gaze. "You're not supposed to do that. It's...no. I won't allow it."
"Allow what?" Hermione said, sliding off the table. She knew that she had to look a sight, her bared nipples red and swollen, her skirt crumpled, hair flying every which way. "Allow me to touch you?" Hermione gave a slight laugh. "After what happened, I rather think I'm a bit entitled."
"Entitled?" Millicent's lost expression changed into a glower. "Entitled to laugh at me? I rather think not."
Hermione stared at the girl. "Who said anything about laughing?" She took a step towards Millicent. "Millicent, why would you even care if I laughed?"
The step was a wrong move. Millicent started and without answering her question, whirled around. After a couple futile yanks at the door, the Slytherin managed to unlock it and she flew out into the corridor, door banging shut behind her.
Hermione took another step, prepared to run out after the Slytherin but stopped. It was one thing to fight in the halls; it was another to do so with your top and bra off. Hermione gritted her teeth and stomped to where both items had been carelessly flung.
The next day was the ride home on the Hogwarts Express. The chances of catching Millicent alone to talk to her were slim to none. The answer to her question would have to wait all summer. After snapping her bra on, pulling on the sweater and tossing her robes around her shoulders, Hermione couldn't stop a small growl from finding its way out of her throat.
* * *
Millicent ran headlong down the corridors, her heart pounding in her ears. She didn't pay attention to where she was going. When she accidentally banged into one of the suits of armor in Hogwarts, the sheer noise brought her to her senses.
Abruptly changing direction, Millicent proceeded quickly, but more calmly, down the Hogwarts stairs to the dungeon. Close to the entrance to the Slytherin common room, she heard a "meow" up ahead.
Mrs. Norris. And that meant Filch wasn't too far away.
Unfortunately, there weren't any rooms to hide in. Besides, she couldn't exactly hide well; she was simply too big. She would have to outrun the Squib.
Throwing her body into a slow sprint, Millicent managed to get to the blank wall and gasped, "Pure-blood!" just as she saw a furry face peek into the Slytherin corridor. The door popped into view and Millicent was through it in a trice.
The common room was partly full, with Slytherins enjoying their last night at Hogwarts before the term was over. Schooling her face into her normal scowl, Millicent stomped through the room, ignoring any startled or questioning looks thrown her way. Nobody approached her; Slytherins weren't very empathetic and anyway, everyone knew that you didn't bother Millicent unless she bothered you.
Going down the side hallway to the dorms, Millicent went directly to one of the communal bathrooms. Two second-years were inside, combing their hair and gossiping. They jumped as Millicent slammed open the bathroom door.
Millicent gave them one dark look and got out of the way as they fled the bathroom. When they had gone, she drew out her wand and promptly placed on it every privacy spell she could remember. Then, and only then, did she sink to the floor, resting her elbows on her knees and hiding her face in her hands.
Why did...why...touching...gentle...oh, why? Millicent's thoughts ran around in tight little circles, as she desperately tried to assimilate what had happened in the last fifteen minutes. How Hermione, instead of thanking her for the fucking, had begun to try to reciprocate the favor. How she had touched Millicent's face, of all things, with gentle, light fingertips. How the kisses had been slow and sensual and maybe even loving. How Hermione...no, Granger had cradled her massive face in her two hands as if it was precious.
Millicent shuddered. She could still, even now, feel the Mudblood's hands on her face, the phantom ghostings of her fingertips.
Jerking upright, Millicent stumbled over to one of the sinks and stared at her reflection in the mirror above it. It was the same face she had always known: brutish and ugly. The wide nose was flared wide, the dark eyes were piggishly small, the jaw jutted forward. How could Granger have stood to touch it, to caress the monstrosity, like it could be beautiful.
Millicent clenched her hands on the sink. No, she was not beautiful. She was anything but. What Granger had done...was a mockery of who Millicent was. Yes, it was a joke. Later, the Mudblood would laugh about it to her little famous friends (no,
no, she wouldn't, she wouldn't dare tell them what you did to her, her mind protested weakly) and never mind that, Granger would tell them how Millicent had almost been taken in, had almost believed that someone, anyone could find her attractive. How she could barely stand to touch Bully Bulstrode's face but had done it for a trick.
And Millicent could still feel those bloody fingers on her bloody face!
Letting loose a wail, Millicent let go of the sink and raked her stubby fingernails across her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. Her nails were too short to draw blood but soon long scratches decorated her pale skin. Her hands frantically traveled down her neck to her collarbone, which had been revealed by Granger's ministrations.
She continued scratching herself until, finally, she could feel no fingers on her skin but her own. Her fingertips ached from her abuse and her face was on fire. But it was good, it felt right. She was Millicent again, biggest and ugliest girl at Hogwarts, and not somebody's idea of a laugh. She was nobody's
mockery.
Running a finger down the side of her face, Millicent smiled as her skin burned even more at the touch. Taking a deep breath, she refastened her robes securely at her neck and quickly left the bathroom.
She was Millicent Bulstrode and nobody, nobody would ever humiliate her.
You must control yourself,
beware the symptoms;
blue hot, blue in the face
too late, oh, you blew a gasket.
Pretentious Blatherings from the Writer:
Lyrics quoted at beginning and end are from the song "Aggression", written by the acapella group Five O'Clock Shadow.
"Aggression" signals several firsts for me. It is the first completed story that I have posted publicly in about two years. It is the first story that I have written with a pairing. Lastly, it is the first story I have written that even comes close to NC-17 content. It was a daunting story for me to write, and on my first draft, it showed. I'm glad that I managed to get it done, even if only to break through those three writing barriers.
I intentionally wrote it for the hp_girlslash Summer of Smut Challenge. Alas, I had some personal difficulties during August and didn't get the story in on time. Eh, well, I tried. At least it answers anna_maria's call for more femmeslash smut (all of which I wrote with my eyes closed because I get embarrassed easily).
My betas for this story were missmona and loupnoir. Without them, the story would be a confusing piece littered with misspellings and wrongly placed commas. I cannot, CANNOT, stress enough how much they made this a stronger piece. Darlings, you both have my gratitude and love. Any remaining errors are entirely my fault.
I admit, I have a strange love and fascination for this pairing. If you liked this, you might also enjoy missmona's Handful of Hollow, silviakundera's excuse me but and sociofemme's What She Hears.
That's it, I'm done for two more years.
Behold and despair, for I have written FIC.
Title: Aggression
Summary: A story of questions, lies, and anger. Set at the end of OotP. Yeah, I know, it's a crappy summary.
Pairing: Hermione/Millicent
Category: Angst, angst and a thimbleful more of angst. What else would you expect from me?
Rating: Either a hard R or a light NC-17. I can't decide which.
Spoilers: Up through OotP obviously.
"Aggression"
Does it start with instinct,
a deep-rooted memory;
The will to survive, to dominate the tribe,
protect your territory?
Filtered through experience
from within your trouble life;
when you've tried to reason and no one will listen
what else can you do but fight?
Hermione was given no warning. One moment she stood, staring at the fire, hoping that Harry would return from Grimmauld Place quickly. The next, hands were propelling her roughly across the room to the opposite wall.
She slammed into it, the breath rushing out of her, and was expertly flipped, so that her back was to the wall. Two strong hands grabbed her arms and pinioned them above her head, neatly cutting off any use of her wand. Blinking her eyes to rid her vision of the stars that had resulted from banging her head, Hermione saw Millicent Bulstrode, not two feet from her face, braced and effectively trapping her.
"Bulstrode?" gasped out Hermione.
"Granger." Millicent acknowledged her, in a pleased voice, without making any other moves.
Hermione's eyes flicked over her captor's shoulder to the door. Draco Malfoy waltzed in, wearing a very smug look. Behind him, Umbridge waddled with a priggish smile and a strange glint in her eye.
Oh no. Hermione immediately moved to get away, kicking out. However, Millicent anticipated her move and simply leaned closer, squashing Hermione flat against the wall, cutting off all chance of movement. Millicent's hot breath gusted over her face and Hermione stopped struggling.
Millicent's dark eyes stared into Hermione's brown ones. "So, Granger, are you going to behave? Or shall I have to remain pressed up against you like this?"
Hermione was suddenly reminded of her confrontation with Millicent during the dueling club in their second year. She had been just a little frightened at being paired with the Slytherin, who was large and square, and who already had a reputation for causing fights. After Lockhart had counted to three, Hermione had tried to cast Expelliarmus but Millicent had dodged the spell easily, with a grace that belied her large frame. Before Hermione could think of another spell to cast, the Slytherin had closed the distance between them and knocked Hermione's wand out of her hand.
She remembered trying to push Millicent away but it was a useless action, as beneficial as trying to push down a brick wall. The Slytherin pulled her into a headlock and she remembered smelling the strong scents of cat and juniper on Millicent's robes as her face rubbed close. She remembered feeling helpless because, despite the sniggerings in the girls lavatories of the Slytherin being a fat hag, Millicent was strong and had a considerable amount of muscle. The girl would not be budged if she didn't want to be.
That helpless feeling was very similar to how she was feeling now. Hermione was helpless against Millicent's strength and while she hated it, she couldn't suppress the shiver of something at being at the mercy of the Slytherin girl.
Hermione's wrenched her thoughts from memories and fixed her eyes on Millicent's lips as they curved into a smirk. She nodded once, curtly, not daring to trust her own voice, not wanting to hear it quaver.
Millicent backed off, slowly, to her previous position. Her hands kept Hermione's arms in an iron grip, her wide body giving Hermione's a scant foot of personal space. Millicent impenetrable gaze continued to study her as Umbridge moved to the fireplace.
* * *
Millicent was happy. Pleased. Thrilled, to be absolutely accurate. She had hoped, when ordered to barge into Umbridge's office, that there would be someone to manhandle. Crabbe, Goyle and Harris had got to the two Gryffindor twits, Weasley girl and Longbottom, more quickly than she, and Millicent didn't like to be left out; she loved nothing more than to use her height and size to physical ends.
Millicent hadn't even recognized the body that had been standing in the office. She had simply registered it and moved to disable it. When, after trapping it against the wall, she had seen Granger's confused eyes staring at her, Millicent had wanted to crow with delight. One of Potter's miserable friends! Not one of the hangers-on, like the Weasley girl or sniveling Longbottom or that odd Ravenclaw girl.
She had seen Hermione's eyes flicker over her shoulder and widen in sudden understanding. Granger's body tensed and Millicent had moved without thinking, flattening her body against the Mudblood's. A small gasp broke from Granger at the impact and the girl stared helplessly into Millicent's eyes.
Millicent thrilled at having one of Potter's cronies caught so effectively. Resisting the urge to snigger, Millicent growled, "So, Granger, are you going to behave?" She, however, couldn't stop her lips from curling into a satisfied smile.
Those brown eyes that seemed so frightened flickered to Millicent's lips. The girl managed a quick nod of the head.
Somewhat disappointed that Granger hadn't decided to put up a fight, Millicent retreated, giving the girl back a modicum of space.
What happened next did not matter to Millicent. She was vaguely aware that Potter had been pulled out of the fireplace, of the order from Umbridge to rid Granger of her wand, of the other Slytherins entering, of a big to-do happening. However, she did not care one iota about Umbridge's agenda. All of her attention, every fiber of her being, was concentrated on keeping Granger trapped; none of what else was happening really registered. That is, until Granger spoke.
"No!" the girl shrieked in her ear and Millicent winced. "Professor Umbridge - it's illegal."
Abruptly Millicent was dropped back into the little drama surrounding her. She narrowed her eyes and concentrated closely on the words being spoken and on Granger, quivering in front of her.
"The Minister wouldn't want you to break the law, Professor Umbridge!" Granger was now saying, body shaking a bit.
"What Cornelius doesn't know won't hurt him," Millicent heard from behind her. "He never knew I ordered Dementors to go after Potter last summer, but he was delighted to be given the chance to expel him, all the same."
Granger stiffened in Millicent's arms, in sudden comprehension. Millicent strengthened her hold on the Gryffindor, just in case she thought to try to break free in anger.
"It was you?" gasped Potter from somewhere near the fireplace. "You sent the Dementors after me?"
"Somebody had to act," Umbridge said in a fascinating breathy voice. The woman sounded positively orgasmic, finally being able to confess her actions. "They were all bleating about silencing you somehow - discrediting you - but I was the one who actually did something about it...only you wriggled out of that one, didn't you, Potter? Not today though, not now - " There was a moment's pause and then, "Cruc-"
"NO!" shouted Granger and Millicent winced again. "No - Harry - we'll have to tell her!"
"No way!" yelled the miserable Boy Who Lived.
Only Millicent was close enough to even see what happened next. She saw Granger's eyes narrow in furious thought. She actually saw the girl come to a lightning-fast conclusion. And in that moment, Millicent knew, without a doubt, that Granger was going to lie fantastically.
"We'll have to, Harry," Granger said, suddenly wilting. "She'll force it out of you anyway, what's...what's the point?"
Granger then locked eyes with Millicent and then Millicent could see that Hermione knew she knew. A second went by in which Granger's eyes pleaded, they pleaded with her to not give it away. To not tell Umbridge what only what Millicent knew.
And then Granger began to cry rather sloppily over the back of Millicent's robes.
Millicent danced away, letting go of Granger's arms but still holding her wand, both disgusted and confused. The Gryffindor was lying and now crying and it seemed absurdly funny.
To tell or not to tell, the Slytherin's mind whispered softly to her as she watched Granger "confess" to the Umbridge cow. There are advantages to both, so which are you going to pick? A part of her was surprised and rather impressed that Granger had the guts to lie to a professor while the other part thought the lie was incredibly weak and thus not worth of any admiration whatsoever. Umbridge is a complete idiot for not seeing through it.
"I'm not showing...them," the Mudblood shrilled and suddenly peeked at Millicent through her fingers. Those eyes, for a second, turned from fearful to pleading and Millicent abruptly realized that she had already made her decision when she had first locked gazes with Granger.
That's fine, then. It will be interesting to hold this over her head and see what comes of it, the Slytherin's practical mind whispered to her.
After Granger, Umbridge, and Potter had left the office, there was another brief scuffle as the Gryffindors tried to get out of the Slytherins' grasps. Millicent watched, unconcerned, as their struggles ceased. When the Gryffindors had realized the futility of the situation, there was a moment of silence that stretched over several minutes. As the lull began to unsettle everyone's nerves, Warrington locked eyes with Millicent.
Caleb Warrington loved picking on people; that was no secret. As the Gryffindors were already humiliated, there wasn't any need to bait them. Malfoy, with his father, was certainly off limits. Crabbe and Goyle were simply too slow to adequately understand his barbs. Hope Harris was a lackluster Slytherin, perfectly average in every way, and very hard to insult as a result. That left Millicent as the only one in the room worth bothering.
"Bulstrode, nice for you to have been liberated of your Gryffindor."
Millicent narrowed her eyes, on guard. "Yes, it is convenient, Warrington. Do you have a point?"
He grinned, clutching Weasley tighter. "Well, yeah. Why are you still hanging around here, Bully Bulstrode?"
She ignored the childish nickname; it wasn't as if she hadn't heard it before. "Pardon me if I doubt your abilities to hold a few measly Gryffindors captive. After all, I did pound your face at the last Slytherin Quidditch game. Wasn't sure if Weasley could too."
Warrington's face darkened. Slytherin House often played extracurricular Quidditch games for competition. As Millicent wasn't allowed on the official Slytherin team, she took especial care to play at these games against her Housemates. In the last game, she had delighted in slamming the Bludger towards anything that moved. Warrington had received the brunt of it, missing the Quaffle due to being knocked off of his broom several times.
"Quidditch is entirely different from manhandling Gryffindors. And you just wish you were man enough to be on the real team."
"Whatever, Warrington," Millicent said, turning her gaze elsewhere, hoping he would drop the conversation.
Unfortunately, he didn't want the exchange halted. "Poor Bully, sad at being a girl, eh? I noticed you were having fun with Granger there. Maybe you were born into the wrong team."
"What the fuck are you driving at Warrington?" Malfoy drawled, leaning up against one of Umbridge's office walls, his eyes glinting.
"Nothing, Malfoy. I just wanted to know if Millie here got off on holding Granger," sneered Warrington, who was still holding Weasley securely. "She's plain for a Mudblood but I suppose you'd get horny for her, since you haven't much to look at in the mirror. Maybe her looks would rub off on you some."
He was ridiculing her! Millicent moved quickly across the room and grabbed Warrington by his robes. She brought his face inches from hers. "My name is Millicent, you hairy, no good, bloody waster."
"Oh, for fuck's sake, Millie, let me go, I'm losing my grip here," he squawked, hands scrabbling to keep their hold on his captive.
"Warrington, you git," she heard Draco warn but it was too late. Millicent had dropped the sixth year boy and walloped him a good one in the face.
Warrington stumbled back, losing his grip entirely on Weasley. The Gryffindor immediately lunged at Harris, who was holding the Weasley girl. Harris, in turn, was knocked off-balance and Millicent grinned, ready for a brawl.
Unfortunately, it was over too quickly for Millicent to enjoy it. The Weasley boy got another one on the lip and she managed to "accidentally" kick Warrington in the balls before a spell stunned her into blackness.
* * *
Meet me in the library at 10.
H.G.
Millicent strode into the library at precisely 10:00 PM. The room in which so many Hogwarts students had camped during the O.W.L.s and exams was completely deserted. Deserted, that was, except for the lone girl sitting at the table at the room's far end.
Millicent approached the table somewhat warily. She had received the letter via owl, and had burnt it almost immediately after. There weren't many people with the initials "H.G." for her to be seen receiving such a message. And now she wondered if it had actually even existed. After all, why would a Gryffindor ask to meet with a Slytherin?
Hermione looked up from her book at the sound of footsteps and nodded calmly. "Millicent."
"Granger." Millicent snagged the chair on the opposite side of the table and sat. The chair creaked under the Slytherin's ponderous bulk, but held.
They sat like that for several minutes, just looking at the table, the stacks, anything but each other. As the seconds ticked by, Millicent grew more and more impatient. Would the girl just speak already?
"Pardon me, Granger, but it was your note I received this morning at breakfast, correct?"
The girl nodded. "Yes."
"Well then, I have answered your summons. What is it you would wish to speak of? I really haven't all night to sit here and listen to you breathe."
Hermione flushed. "I'm sorry, I was trying to think of the best way to approach this."
"Head-on would be the Gryffindor way," Millicent drawled in her best pseudo-impression of Draco Malfoy. "From the rear would suit a Slytherin. Take your pick."
Hermione bit her lip and nodded decisively. "Right. Why didn't you tell?"
"Tell who, Granger?"
"Tell Umbridge, Bulstrode."
"Tell Umbridge what?" Millicent countered sweetly.
Hermione ground her teeth. "Tell Umbridge that I was lying."
Millicent grinned. "Lying about what exactly?"
Hermione leaned forward. "Lying about the stupid, sodding weapon," she hissed.
"Oh, you were lying, were you?"
Hermione stood up abruptly, the chair making a screeching noise on the floor as it slid backwards. "That's it. This was a mistake."
"Oh Granger, sit, I was just having fun." Millicent smiled as pleasantly as she could until the Gryffindor slowly sank back down into her chair. "Interesting that you would care so much about the motivations behind something that worked out to your advantage."
"Well, I'm interesting like that." Hermione stared hard at Millicent. "I'd like to know when the other shoe is going to drop."
"And what makes you think I would do it for any other reason than a silly lark?"
Hermione frowned. "Because it doesn't make sense. Umbridge was making the Slytherins the elite of the school. You had all the control, all the power. Why would you so willingly go behind her..."
"Umbridge was and is an idiot," Millicent snapped out, cutting Granger short. "Just because she favored us Slytherins doesn't mean I don't loathe her. Her lessons were an abomination and if she had been at Beauxbatons or Durmstrang or any other wizard school, she would've been kicked out on her sorry arse!"
Eyes widening, Hermione nodded slightly. "Alright, you don't approve of Umbridge. Fine. But are you saying you deliberately worked against her, were undermining her behind her back?"
Millicent leaned back in her chair, wincing slightly at a warning creak. "I'm not saying anything but that if a Slytherin were to undermine her, that is a particularly Slytherinish way to do it."
Hermione's brow crinkled in confusion. "But still, why wouldn't you take the opportunity to call out a Gryffindor?"
"Perhaps I like the thought of a Gryffindor who owes me something."
"But you just said before that you didn't say anything on a lark!"
Millicent rolled her eyes. "Aren't you paying attention to this conversation, Granger? I asked you why you think I would do it for any other reason than amusement. For all you being lauded as so intelligent, I'm becoming quite disappointed."
Hermione stood up again in a flurry. "So you admit that you did it for a bribe!"
"Maybe yes, maybe no." Millicent watched Hermione's mouth open again and cut her off. "But now that the subject has been broached, I don't believe I would ever refuse such a favor."
Hermione glowered. "And just what type of favor might you want?"
Millicent gazed upwards. "Actually, I was curious about something," she said, ignoring the question entirely. "When you lead Umbridge and Harry into the Forbidden Forest, did you know what might happen?"
"What?"
"Did you mean for Umbridge to be caught by the centaurs?"
Hermione stared at her, eyes blinking owlishly. "I...you...she was going to use an...an Unforgiveable on Harry! I had to do something!"
Millicent stood swiftly. "But did you know that you were leading Umbridge to a possible death. I mean, the centaurs and all, they're quite dangerous. Just like the Forest is." She paused, looking closer at Hermione. "Were you counting on it?"
* * *
Hermione stared at Millicent. Through all the days after the Department of Mysteries, through her recovery from Dolohov's partial curse, through the last days of term, no one had posed this question to her. Not Dumbledore, not the Ministry, not Ron, not Harry.
She had thought about it, in the early hours of the morning in the hospital wing, watching Umbridge's wide-eyed sleep from her bed. What had she intended exactly? Her worry for Harry had been so strong that she hadn't the time to think things through entirely.
She knew that getting caught by the centaurs was part of the plan. Their speed, their strength, it was perhaps the only thing she could think of at that moment to overcome Umbridge. But hadn't she also known that the centaurs would probably kill anyone else who came into the Forest from Hogwarts? And that Umbridge, as an adult, would certainly receive no pity from them?
And now that Umbridge was quite traumatized, wasn't Hermione happy that she was so?
Millicent didn't know the last bit about the centaurs. She hadn't been with Hermione and Harry when they had met Grawp. She only knew that the centaurs were dangerous in their own right. And yet, she had been the only one to ask the question that Hermione could barely ask herself.
When leading Umbridge into the Forest that fateful day, had she meant to kill her?
Abruptly, Hermione grew angry. Furious. How dare the Slytherin ask that! How dare she even guess? She wasn't a part of the fight against Voldemort; it wasn't her right.
Millicent continued through Hermione's stunned silence. "After all, weren't there other ways to stop her instead of the Forest? Going into the Great Hall during lunch and screaming would've created a big enough diversion. The other teachers would've probably even helped you. You could've tripped, hurt yourself, demanded Umbridge take you to Pomfrey first. There were other ways to distract her. But you chose to go into the Forest." Millicent paused. "How interesting that nobody has called you on this before. It must pay off to be the best friend of the famous Harry Potter."
Hermione couldn't remain still any longer. She flung her hand back and slapped Millicent with all her might across the cheek.
"Don't you dare say that! Nobody treats me any differently and nobody ought to treat Harry any differently either! It's not his fault he's famous!"
Millicent's eyes glittered as she rubbed her cheek. "But you haven't asked Dumbledore why he hasn't punished you yet. I know you haven't been punished; the school would have been echoing with it if you had. You've taken advantage of being Potter's friend, Granger. Or else, you've taken advantage of being the professor's Pet."
"You don't...you don't know! You accuse me of being a murderer when your friends' parents, when your parents are trying to kill Harry every day!" Hermione's hands balled into fists and she practically vibrated where she stood. "Don't be hypocritical with me, on your high horse! You don't get that right!"
Millicent leaned forward, staring Hermione in the face. "What my parents do or what my friends' parents might do have no effect on me. I didn't lead Umbridge into the Forest," she hissed.
"But you didn't let Umbridge know I was lying! You were responsible TOO!" Hermione shrieked.
"Oh, you can't land your guilt on me! I didn't know what you were planning to do, you stupid GIT!" Millicent howled back.
"GIRLS!" rang a voice.
Both Hermione and Millicent jumped apart and turned their heads towards the main desk in the library where Madam Pince stood, glaring.
"I do believe that it is well after hours and that you should both be getting back to your dormitories. Hermione, I did say you could stay here, provided that you be quiet, and I think screaming is quite the opposite of the definition of quiet. I ask both of you to leave this instant."
Now even angrier that Millicent had caused her to earn Madam Pince's ire, Hermione turned on heel and left without another word.
* * *
Millicent followed Granger's furious pace out of the library.
"Granger. GRANGER!" Millicent bellowed. The figure ahead of her faltered and then halted. Millicent pounded forward, grabbed the other girl's arm and turned her around.
"What do you want, Bulstrode?" Granger spat, anger lacing each word.
"You think you can end this conversation that easily, Granger? You haven't answered any of my questions." Millicent tightened her grip on the girl's arm, watching Hermione's resulting wince with satisfaction.
"I've got what I've wanted out of you," the other girl said, pulling a bit ineffectually on her arm. "I know you didn't tell just to get something out of me, not because you might possibly be a decent sort underneath. I was foolish to ever believe a Slytherin could really be decent!"
Millicent's fury rose again. How dare the little Mudblood dismiss her like that! How dare she! Millicent lowered her face to the struggling girl and hissed, "Oh, but I haven't got what I've wanted out of you. You owe me, Granger, as you said, and I intend to take you up on it."
And then, before Millicent could consciously think about what she was doing, she pulled Granger up to her face and kissed her furiously on the mouth. It was a brutal kiss, mostly involving teeth and scrapes and biting. But Granger was stronger than Millicent had guessed and managed to wrench her face away, eyes opened comically wide.
"What are you doing?" the Mudblood gasped.
Furious that she had been interrupted, Millicent flung Granger against the corridor wall. Moving quickly, she pushed the other girl's front flat against it, her own body moving flush against Granger's back. Millicent leaned into the curve of Hermione's ear.
"You and me, Granger, you and me. That's what I want. If you accept, all is repaid, all is forgotten. Just a quick little," and Millicent paused here to jerk her hips against the other girl's body, "and you can stop worrying about my...my motivations."
They were both silent for a moment except for the heaving breathing. Then Granger moved with startling accuracy, stomping on Millicent's foot, elbowing her in the gut, and knocking her head backwards against Millicent's own. Millicent, more startled than anything, abruptly staggered back a few paces and that's all that the Mudblood needed.
Granger whipped around, her wand out and shouted, "Petrificus Totalus!" The spell slammed into Millicent and before she could even think, she was laying flat on her back in the middle of the corridor outside the library.
* * *
Hermione stood breathing hard, wand still flung out, shaking. She half expected Millicent to resist the spell with her pure strength. However, when nothing of the sort happened, she lowered her arm and slumped exhaustedly against the corridor wall. Well, at least SOMETHING has gone right tonight.
After she had regained control of herself, Hermione slowly walked to where Millicent was laying. The girl's face was stuck in an unflattering state of surprise, arms tightly bound to her large body, her entire spine poker-straight.
Leave her here, Hermione's mind commanded coldly. Somebody will find her soon; Filch most likely. She'll get in trouble, which she deserves. And she won't tell them I petrified her. She wouldn't dare. She should be caught by Filch for the things she said - for what she said about Umbridge and me. Just turn around and go back to the common room.
Yet Hermione continued to stand there, wand clutched loosely in her fingertips, staring at the frozen Millicent. The words - Millicent's words - continued to echo in her mind. That's what I want. They circled and spiraled around, tangling up any thoughts of leaving.
When else would she get a chance like this? A chance to be completely unlike herself, do something that no one would ever believe her capable of. Be with Millicent. No, her brain corrected, if you're thinking of doing it, say the right word. Fuck Millicent. Or have her fuck you.
Hermione shivered and turned to the wall, thinking furiously.
The events of the past days, Umbridge, Kreacher, the Centaurs, Grawp, the Ministry, Prophecies, Death Eaters, Hexes, Sirius, death, death, death...it all overcrowded her mind. The impossibility of what had just happened made it all seem even more surreal. What she knew for certain was that she had no desire to go back to Gryffindor Tower.
It was then she made her decision.
Turning back to the prone Slytherin, Hermione commanded, "Wingardium Leviosa," and Millicent's body gently rose. Grabbing a foot, Hermione pulled the floating body down the corridor to one of the many, many empty classrooms within Hogwarts. The castle changed continuously, with only certain portions of the school spelled to remain static. Chances were that Hermione would never again be able to find this particular room. But that was just fine, as far as she was concerned.
Pushing Millicent into the room, Hermione pulled the door shut. She turned around and very Muggle-ishly locked the door. She then gently directed Millicent's body down to the floor, took a deep breath, and said, "Finite Incantatem."
For all that Millicent was huge, she could move fast. Within two eyeblinks, the Slytherin was on her feet, face growing steadily red. Before the girl could say a thing, Hermione very obviously put her wand down on one of the tables cluttering the room. She turned her gaze to meet Millicent's directly and said, "I accept."
* * *
Millicent was furious, absolutely incensed. That filthy little Mudblood had petrified her! Millicent quivered and prepared to rush at the Gryffindor when the girl gently put down her wand. Then she said, too calmly, "I accept."
Millicent's jaw dropped. She hadn't expected this, no, not at all. She had excepted Granger to be repulsed, to continue their satisfying fight. The girl was not supposed to bloody accept! It was a bluff, a way to regain control over the conversation. But the bluff had been called and Millicent wasn't quite sure what to do.
"Didn't you hear me? I accept your proposition. 'You and me,' you said. Well, here we are." Those eyes, those filthy eyes looked challengingly at her. "Or perhaps you're too dense to understand."
Fury ran through Millicent's veins and she didn't so much act as react. In a moment, she had Granger back against the door, Millicent's body completely dwarfing the Gryffindor's. Her mind snickered at the deja vu (third time's the charm), but her mouth lowered to capture Granger's ever-talking mouth in hers.
It was another aggressive kiss, with Millicent setting a frantic pace and Granger doing her best to simply stay caught up. The bigger girl's teeth raked Granger's lips and bit lightly. As Granger opened up her mouth to protest, Millicent slid her tongue inside. Swallowing the Gryffindor's gasp, Millicent kept moving, claiming every crevice of her mouth, keeping the other girl off-balance.
Because if she was in-balance, she might...
Choking back a growl, Millicent shut out that thought by using one hand to pull off Granger's robes in one mighty heave, ignoring the girl's wince. The metal clasps holding it together broke off spinning, but Millicent didn't notice. Fumbling a bit, she slid a hand up Granger's prim sweater and grabbed a bra-covered breast.
At that, Granger squeaked and pulled back violently. The Gryffindor opened up her mouth, possibly to argue, but Millicent then began to squeeze and stroke the breast as best she could one-handed. Granger gulped and her eyes went glassy as Millicent continued.
"Like that?" Millicent chuckled as Hermione could only manage to blink and gape. "So, the rumors were wrong. You haven't been banging Potter or Weasley. Or else this," Millicent gave a pinch that made Hermione start, "wouldn't be such a novelty."
Abruptly, Hermione's eyes focused. "Do you Slytherins have absolutely nothing else to do but gossip about us Gryffindors. One would think you were...obsessed!" Hermione gasped out the last word as Millicent gave a particularly vicious squeeze.
"Not obsessed, just observant." Millicent claimed the mouth again for another hard kiss and then pulled back to yank the sweater up. It got caught around Hermione's head and after a bit of useless tugging, Millicent deceased her efforts long enough for the Gryffindor to disentangle herself from her clothing. The sweater fell to the floor and the bra after it.
Abruptly Hermione wrapped her arms around her chest, blushing. Millicent paused and frowned. Why was she doing that? When the sudden silence became pronounced, Hermione glanced up. "I...um...never...ah...unclothed...they're...ugly small...sorry..."
Millicent stopped the disjointed ramblings by capturing Hermione's stuttering mouth and pulling her tongue into her own. Her arms pulled Hermione's away from her chest and stroked her sides. Why is she so embarrassed? a small part of Millicent's mind wondered. She's not ugly, not in the slightest. It's me
who should be embarrassed, not her.
When Hermione stopped trying to cover up her breasts, Millicent broke the kiss and began to teeth-graze her way down. Pushing Granger's flighty hands away yet again, Millicent seized one small nipple in her teeth and bit down slightly. The terrified squeak that followed was oddly stimulating and Millicent quickly laved her tongue over the reddened bud, stroking it to complete perkiness.
"I...oh...OH...that is...I don't..." Millicent spared a quick glance upwards to see Hermione's head thrown back, her throat working convulsively. Turned on by the sight, the Slytherin switched to the other nipple, moving a hand to the one she had just left to stroke gently.
This continued for awhile, Millicent moving between both breasts. Millicent liked to hear the confused exclamations that Hermione kept making. Not such a sodding know-it-all now, is she, Millicent thought ruthlessly.
However, when Hermione's hand came to rest on the top of Millicent's head and stroke her black hair, the Slytherin stood and captured the other girl's mouth again. Grabbing her waist, Millicent half hoisted Hermione into the air, the other girl wrapping her legs obligingly around the Slytherin's waist, and stumbled around, trying to find one of the tables abandoned sparsely about the room.
Millicent banged into one and she stopped her kisses to push the Gryffindor onto the table, crawling on after her. The table creaked threateningly but after a quickly muttered charm, managed to stay upright under both Hermione's and Millicent's weight.
Millicent went straight back to abusing Hermione's mouth and rolling her nipples between her fingers. It was exhilarating to feel the murmurs, the vibrations, as Hermione moaned in response, their tongues entwined. To think that she, Millicent Bulstrode, ugliest girl at Hogwarts could stimulate such a reaction...the power was an addicting thing indeed.
Hermione's hands, again, found courage and inched their way to Millicent's shoulders. Between a kiss and a tweak, the Slytherin abruptly realized that Hermione was making steady work of the metal clasps on her own robes. With yet another growl, Millicent seize both hands in her massive grip and pulled them up over Hermione's head. The Gryffindor arched back at the movement, lifting her breasts enticingly, before settling back down on the table to stare at Millicent.
Millicent grinned as Hermione blinked, confused. The Slytherin used her free hand to trace the curve of Hermione's lips. The grin grew wicked and her hand made its way down Hermione's body.
Hermione's eye widened as the hand reached boldly under her skirt. Fingers caressed her knicker-covered crotch briefly and then went up to dip under the waistband. Millicent drank in Hermione's eyes as they continued to grow wider at the exploration of Millicent's fingers.
With a gentleness that surprised even her, Millicent eased a finger between the folds of skin she found, where it was warm and wet and slippery. She stroked that one finger against the skin underneath her, causing Hermione to gasp brokenly and close her eyes. Millicent rubbed a bit harder, against Hermione's clitoris, and drank in the gasps and exclamations that flew out of Hermione's smart mouth.
Falling into a type of rhythm, Millicent stroked firm and quick. Hermione's voice was now breathy, high, and delicious. The Gryffindor's hips bucked ineffectually against Millicent's bulk. Watching Hermione's response very carefully, Millicent swiftly slid the questing finger into the opening she found.
Hermione's eyes flew open and she stared at the ceiling, mouth a perfect 'O'. Receiving no other response, Millicent crooked the finger and began to move it in and out. As another rhythm began to build, Hermione's gaze shifted to lock with Millicent's and the Slytherin's feeling of power turned into something else.
* * *
When Millicent's finger slipped inside her, Hermione could do nothing but stare at the ceiling in astonishment. Millicent's finger. Inside. The thought was...strangely exciting, and Hermione felt a tightness growing deep in the pit of her belly. When Millicent's finger began to move, to create a friction that Hermione could not describe, her eyes found their way to Millicent's. As her finger continued to fuck her, as the feelings and tightness and tension continued to build, Hermione couldn't do anything but gasp breathlessly and stare at those impenetrable eyes.
Things quickly reached a frenzied pace and Hermione believed that she would, at the very least, begin to hyperventilate soon. Most probably explode instead. And then Millicent changed her angle slightly and Hermione can't think anymore; everything was going too fast and too tight. Somehow, she ripped her hands out of Millicent's grip to grasp the Slytherin's shoulder. Millicent bared her teeth and shoved in more fiercely. And then there was an explosion, something ripping the inside of Hermione apart and she couldn't even breathe through the exquisite sensation.
When the overwhelming feelings ebbed away, Hermione realized that she'd closed her eyes again. She opened them to see a smirking Millicent gazing down at her. When Millicent saw that she had Hermione's attention, she removed her finger from Hermione's knickers and brought it to her mouth. Slowly, the Slytherin sucked
on her finger, looking for Hermione's reaction.
Before this night, Hermione imagined she would have been horrified at such an action. However, at this moment, all she could feel was...well...hot. Ready to have another go.
Hermione gently lifted her hands to Millicent's face. She began to ghost them along the planes of it, making figure-eights over the full cheeks, drawing a gentle line down the prominent nose. When Millicent frowned, creating lines all over, Hermione smoothed them out.
Her hands rested from their journey on either side of Millicent's jaw, framing the Slytherin's head. Millicent, by now, had removed her finger from her mouth in surprise. Growing braver, Hermione pulled Millicent's head down towards her to place gentle kisses on her mouth.
Hermione's lips explored everywhere. Millicent's eyes fluttered shut and Hermione kissed the eyelids. Returning to Millicent's full, wide lips, Hermione gently probed into the Slytherin's mouth. One hand slowly fell from Millicent's jaw to continue her earlier work of undoing the clasps of the other girl's robe.
When she had undone four clasps, Millicent's eyes flew open with a startled gasp. The Slytherin lunged away from her, off the table, falling to the floor with a heavy thump. Utterly surprised, Hermione sat up to see that the girl had clambered to her feet and was backing away toward the door.
"Wait!" Hermione gasped, knowing that at the very least she had to find out what she had done wrong. "Millicent...what...what's the matter?"
The Slytherin girl stopped backing up and looked at her with a helpless gaze. "You're not supposed to do that. It's...no. I won't allow it."
"Allow what?" Hermione said, sliding off the table. She knew that she had to look a sight, her bared nipples red and swollen, her skirt crumpled, hair flying every which way. "Allow me to touch you?" Hermione gave a slight laugh. "After what happened, I rather think I'm a bit entitled."
"Entitled?" Millicent's lost expression changed into a glower. "Entitled to laugh at me? I rather think not."
Hermione stared at the girl. "Who said anything about laughing?" She took a step towards Millicent. "Millicent, why would you even care if I laughed?"
The step was a wrong move. Millicent started and without answering her question, whirled around. After a couple futile yanks at the door, the Slytherin managed to unlock it and she flew out into the corridor, door banging shut behind her.
Hermione took another step, prepared to run out after the Slytherin but stopped. It was one thing to fight in the halls; it was another to do so with your top and bra off. Hermione gritted her teeth and stomped to where both items had been carelessly flung.
The next day was the ride home on the Hogwarts Express. The chances of catching Millicent alone to talk to her were slim to none. The answer to her question would have to wait all summer. After snapping her bra on, pulling on the sweater and tossing her robes around her shoulders, Hermione couldn't stop a small growl from finding its way out of her throat.
* * *
Millicent ran headlong down the corridors, her heart pounding in her ears. She didn't pay attention to where she was going. When she accidentally banged into one of the suits of armor in Hogwarts, the sheer noise brought her to her senses.
Abruptly changing direction, Millicent proceeded quickly, but more calmly, down the Hogwarts stairs to the dungeon. Close to the entrance to the Slytherin common room, she heard a "meow" up ahead.
Mrs. Norris. And that meant Filch wasn't too far away.
Unfortunately, there weren't any rooms to hide in. Besides, she couldn't exactly hide well; she was simply too big. She would have to outrun the Squib.
Throwing her body into a slow sprint, Millicent managed to get to the blank wall and gasped, "Pure-blood!" just as she saw a furry face peek into the Slytherin corridor. The door popped into view and Millicent was through it in a trice.
The common room was partly full, with Slytherins enjoying their last night at Hogwarts before the term was over. Schooling her face into her normal scowl, Millicent stomped through the room, ignoring any startled or questioning looks thrown her way. Nobody approached her; Slytherins weren't very empathetic and anyway, everyone knew that you didn't bother Millicent unless she bothered you.
Going down the side hallway to the dorms, Millicent went directly to one of the communal bathrooms. Two second-years were inside, combing their hair and gossiping. They jumped as Millicent slammed open the bathroom door.
Millicent gave them one dark look and got out of the way as they fled the bathroom. When they had gone, she drew out her wand and promptly placed on it every privacy spell she could remember. Then, and only then, did she sink to the floor, resting her elbows on her knees and hiding her face in her hands.
Why did...why...touching...gentle...oh, why? Millicent's thoughts ran around in tight little circles, as she desperately tried to assimilate what had happened in the last fifteen minutes. How Hermione, instead of thanking her for the fucking, had begun to try to reciprocate the favor. How she had touched Millicent's face, of all things, with gentle, light fingertips. How the kisses had been slow and sensual and maybe even loving. How Hermione...no, Granger had cradled her massive face in her two hands as if it was precious.
Millicent shuddered. She could still, even now, feel the Mudblood's hands on her face, the phantom ghostings of her fingertips.
Jerking upright, Millicent stumbled over to one of the sinks and stared at her reflection in the mirror above it. It was the same face she had always known: brutish and ugly. The wide nose was flared wide, the dark eyes were piggishly small, the jaw jutted forward. How could Granger have stood to touch it, to caress the monstrosity, like it could be beautiful.
Millicent clenched her hands on the sink. No, she was not beautiful. She was anything but. What Granger had done...was a mockery of who Millicent was. Yes, it was a joke. Later, the Mudblood would laugh about it to her little famous friends (no,
no, she wouldn't, she wouldn't dare tell them what you did to her, her mind protested weakly) and never mind that, Granger would tell them how Millicent had almost been taken in, had almost believed that someone, anyone could find her attractive. How she could barely stand to touch Bully Bulstrode's face but had done it for a trick.
And Millicent could still feel those bloody fingers on her bloody face!
Letting loose a wail, Millicent let go of the sink and raked her stubby fingernails across her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. Her nails were too short to draw blood but soon long scratches decorated her pale skin. Her hands frantically traveled down her neck to her collarbone, which had been revealed by Granger's ministrations.
She continued scratching herself until, finally, she could feel no fingers on her skin but her own. Her fingertips ached from her abuse and her face was on fire. But it was good, it felt right. She was Millicent again, biggest and ugliest girl at Hogwarts, and not somebody's idea of a laugh. She was nobody's
mockery.
Running a finger down the side of her face, Millicent smiled as her skin burned even more at the touch. Taking a deep breath, she refastened her robes securely at her neck and quickly left the bathroom.
She was Millicent Bulstrode and nobody, nobody would ever humiliate her.
You must control yourself,
beware the symptoms;
blue hot, blue in the face
too late, oh, you blew a gasket.
Pretentious Blatherings from the Writer:
Lyrics quoted at beginning and end are from the song "Aggression", written by the acapella group Five O'Clock Shadow.
"Aggression" signals several firsts for me. It is the first completed story that I have posted publicly in about two years. It is the first story that I have written with a pairing. Lastly, it is the first story I have written that even comes close to NC-17 content. It was a daunting story for me to write, and on my first draft, it showed. I'm glad that I managed to get it done, even if only to break through those three writing barriers.
I intentionally wrote it for the hp_girlslash Summer of Smut Challenge. Alas, I had some personal difficulties during August and didn't get the story in on time. Eh, well, I tried. At least it answers anna_maria's call for more femmeslash smut (all of which I wrote with my eyes closed because I get embarrassed easily).
My betas for this story were missmona and loupnoir. Without them, the story would be a confusing piece littered with misspellings and wrongly placed commas. I cannot, CANNOT, stress enough how much they made this a stronger piece. Darlings, you both have my gratitude and love. Any remaining errors are entirely my fault.
I admit, I have a strange love and fascination for this pairing. If you liked this, you might also enjoy missmona's Handful of Hollow, silviakundera's excuse me but and sociofemme's What She Hears.
That's it, I'm done for two more years.