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Hermione already knew today wasn’t going to be her day before she even set foot into the Ministry of Magic.
First she woke up late, for some reason her alarm decided to turn itself off, then while rushing to get ready she stood in one of Crookshank’s hairballs that had been meticulously placed in her path. Once she’d cleaned her foot thoroughly and threw on her casual work clothes, black trousers with a fitted white shirt, Hermione hadn’t had enough time to do her hair properly. Not wanting to be any later than she already was, Hermione left it alone, but she just knew it was sticking up weird in the back. She just had to get into work and then she’ll chuck it up.
Landing in the Ministry Hermione hurried towards the lifts, jamming the button repeatedly in her impatience.
“Come on, come on,” she muttered pleadingly, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
She was rewarded a moment later with a lift opening its doors for her, but before she could get her hopes up about something finally going right for her that day the doors opened further and she was met with the sight of Narcissa Black.
Great, just perfect, of course she’d run into Black today off all people.
“Granger.” Black’s tone was cool as she greeted her. Clad in a cerulean midi length pea coat, flaring out at her waist.
“Black,” Hermione parroted her greeting, not able to control the scowl that took over her face.
“Running a little late today?” she asked.
Hermione had been standing right in front of the lift as it opened and hadn’t budged even after she saw Black, that did mean though that as she stepped out of the lift they stood closer than she’d ever liked to have been to Black. But she’d be damned to move for her.
“Yes, well, not everyone can be as perfect as you.” Her eyes flickered to Narcissa’s lips briefly, noticing the shine of clear lip gloss catching the light, before she raised her head up slightly to glare into steel blue eyes.
Black stared back, unbothered, tilting her head to the side in thought as she looked at her.
Annoyance flared up in her. What was her problem? Before Hermione could ask Black was already speaking.
“You better run along, I'm sure Draco is waiting for you.” She side stepped Hermione, leaving the lift free for taking.
Hermione opened and closed her mouth a few times until finally she huffed and stepped into the lift, pressing the button for her floor. She had assumed Black had left already but as she turned around she found her still there, watching Hermione.
“You might want a mirror.” She gestured to the back of her own head, “Your hair is, well,” she trailed off with a little hum, her coat swishing as she turned to leave, just as the lift doors closed on Hermione.
Hermione let out an indignant squawk, reaching for the back of her head. Yes she knew it wasn’t great today, but it wasn’t that bad.
Instantly she began scraping her hair back, catching any tangles with her fingers and tying it up into a ponytail. It was ridiculous, Black was ridiculous. The nerve of her, like she’s ever had to deal with curls or frizz in her life. Hermione bets she wakes up with perfectly silky, flowing hair, not a blonde strand out of place. She was so infuriating!
After the war most people on Voldemort’s side had been dealt with. The majority went to Azkaban and those that didn’t were ostracised, pushed to the outskirts of Wizarding Britain until they were all but forgotten. Yet Narcissa and Draco Black somehow wormed their way back into society’s good graces.
Draco, she understood. He’d been the same age as she and her friends, practically born for the role of a Death Eater, and he had proven himself. They had both returned to Hogwarts for their final year but barely crossed paths, Draco had kept his head down focusing on his studies, and Hermione did the same.
It wasn’t until later after they’d graduated and she’d been bouncing between different jobs for a year before finally settling on the one she has now did they really talk.
Hermione had been accepted as an Unspeakable, working in unknown magics and curses, when she found out Draco worked in the same division, and had been for the last few months. From the beginning they worked well together, and now she thought of Draco as a good friend.
Narcissa on the other hand she didn’t get. At first she understood and supported Harry’s decision in defending her in court, she did save his life after all, even if it was for personal reasons. With Harry Potter in her corner it wasn’t really any surprise she walked free.
She saw her in the paper every now and again, throwing her money about to any charity who’d take it. Showing she was a changed woman, a good woman. Hermione hadn’t really thought too much of it at the time, just classic Slytherin tactics.
Then some time into working with Draco she heard Narcissa got her own job working at the Ministry. The safety and regulation of magical creatures. Which, ironic much, Hermione doubted she could really do any good work there considering Dobby. All of this gave Hermione a picture of someone she knew she wouldn’t get along with, but it was when they’d been forced to work together that she found out just how much they don’t get along. Even now she doesn’t know why it couldn’t have been Draco to take on the job, it was his mother after all, but no it had to be her!
Hermione didn’t know what had frustrated her more to discover. That Black was actually good at her job, or that everyone in her division loved her. The latter, it was definitely the latter. Her time working with Black had taught her one thing, for whatever reason, Black didn’t like her.
Day in day out for that month she had watched Black be friendly with everyone in her workplace, compliments, and praise, and genuine smiles. Then she’d turn to Hermione and everything would be wrong, her voice monotone, critique at every corner. There had been more than enough times Hermione had caught Black watching her with a blank expression, head tilted to the side the same way it had been today.
Hermione didn’t care if Black didn’t like her, the feeling was mutual. She didn’t like to use the word hate, there were technically much worse people that deserved that word, but Black just got under Hermione’s skin in a way that others didn’t.
Finally the lift hit her floor and with a ping the doors flew open, she didn’t waste anymore time and rushed for her and Draco’s laboratory.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said, pushing their door open, “my alarm-”
“Shit, Hermione!”
Hermione was stopped mid sentence as a purple light blasted into her chest, knocking her breath away and making her stumble back a few steps into a wall.
Draco was instantly in front of her, very clearly panicked as he began to check her body over for signs of injury.
“Are you alright, how do you feel? Oh Merlin, please say you’re alright.”
Eventually Hermione managed to speak, breathing deeply through the intense heat that was radiating through her chest.
“What the hell Draco,” she said slowly, “What was that?”
“I don’t know.” He looked at her like she was going to fall apart at any second.
“You don’t know. What do you mean you ‘don’t know’ Draco? I kind of need you to know!” Her eyes widened in panic.
“I mean I don’t know!” He put his hands up in surrender, “I only just got the piece I was working on, it shouldn’t have gone off like that!”
Hermione could kill him right now.
Carefully he took her by the shoulders and led her to a seat at their work bench, running his diagnostics while she tried to stay as still as possible, scared to move too much less there be dire consequences.
“Your vitals are fine, and I don’t see anything unusual in your magic, you should be okay. At least for now.”
“Gee, how reassuring.” Hermione rolled her eyes, but really she was relieved she wasn’t instantly dying.
“Just, Don’t Move. At least for a little bit until we know for sure nothing suddenly changes.”
Hermione glared at him again from her seat but Draco had already turned away from her, starting his research in finding whatever Hermione had been struck with.
She sat there for half an hour contemplating her life choices that led her to have a day such as this, while Draco frantically flicked through a tome, notes scattered everywhere. Until finally she was deemed ‘safe enough’ and helped him with their search.
She was passed notes of her own to go through, everything relevant to the project Draco had been given. And honestly it was a whole pile of nothing, whoever sent this project over to Draco must have it out for him because why else would all the notes just be a bunch of long winded sentences that basically translated to ‘figure it out yourself’.
Merlin, would they even be able to figure it out today? It wasn’t uncommon for it to take a few days before they fully understand what they’re working with, sometimes even weeks with their bigger projects. Who’s to say it won’t take that long with this one, it troubled Hermione to be in the dark like this.
But by now nearly three hours had passed since she’d been hit, and apart from the expected anxiety she felt at being struck with an unknown curse Hermione felt completely fine, maybe whatever she was hit with wasn’t actually too bad. The tension she’d been carrying in her shoulders eased slightly as she continued her research, she was fine, she’ll be fine. And truly, it’s not like her day could get any more worse than it already has, unless she suddenly starts turning into a slug or something, Hermione was pretty confident she’d gotten through the worst of her day.
“Aha!” Draco called out, “I got it!”
Oh thank Merlin.
“Well?” Hermione asked impatiently as he continued to read, reaching across the table to look in the tome herself.
“Okay good news,” he clasped his hands together, “you’re not gonna die.”
“What’s the bad news?”
He hesitated before answering, “The curse is going to slowly leach at your magic until you’re essentially a muggle.”
Hermione felt her stomach drop, “How slowly?”
“A couple weeks,” he said as if it was a question.
A couple weeks, she tried to rationalise, okay okay she can work with a couple weeks, that’s plenty of time.
But looking at Draco she saw his grimace of a smile and narrowed her eyes.
“There’s something else, what is it?”
He spoke slowly, “The reversal of the curse is..a little strange. Here, it might be easier if you just read it.” He slid the tome over to her side and Hermione gave him a puzzled look before doing as instructed.
She read the paragraph Draco had highlighted and thought she’d read it wrong, it took reading it another four times before Hermione finally believed she read it right the first time.
She shot her head up to glare at Draco, who’d started chewing at his nails while he waited for her to finish.
“What kind of sick, stupid, fucking curse did you put on me Draco!” she hissed at him.
“It’s not my fault you walked in at the exact moment it went off! And if you hadn’t been late this wouldn’t have happened, so who’s really at fault here?”
Hermione balled her hands into fists, something that Draco noticed.
“Mine, it’s my fault,” he said quickly, taking a step back from her.
The room was silent as she tried to calm herself down.
“Look, it could be worse.” Draco tried to reason.
“You're not the one who has to make out with the person they hate the most!” Turning into a slug didn't sound so bad anymore.
“Okay, it did not say that.” He rolled his eyes at her.
Hermione slammed her finger onto the page, running it along the words, “An ‘intimate’ kiss with the person the cursed loathes most.” She pushed the book, sliding it back over to Draco, “It certainly sounds like more than a simple peck on the cheek to me.” She recited more of what the script said, “And what do they even mean,‘The cursed will feel when the curse has lifted’? Oh what a helpful description.”
She threw her head into her hand, covering her face with a groan. This was a disaster.
A beat of silence went by before Draco asked what they were both thinking.
“So… who do you hate? It can’t be that many people, you’re a pretty forgiving person.”
Who did Hermione hate? Her mind instantly went to Voldemort and Lestrange, she had never been as happy as she was now to know they were dead.
Then there was someone like Umbridge. Hermione had certainly hated her when she was younger, but as the despicable woman was serving her time in Azkaban, Hermione no longer cared about the woman. She was getting her comeuppance. And thank Merlin and every god it wasn’t her who Hermione hated.
“Well it has to be a Death Eater or something right? It might take a while for us to get visitation rights to Azkaban.” It seemed Draco was having the same thoughts as her.
No, they wouldn’t be needing a trip to Azkaban. While there were plenty of people there Hermione hated, similar to Umbridge, she no longer cared about them. They didn’t deserve her time wasted thinking about them.
No, Hermione knows the type of people she hates. It’s the ones who get away with a light slap on the wrist, who do a couple of good deeds for the paper and the audience eat it right up. The people who act all high and mighty, believing themselves ‘better’ and still somehow gets everyone to adore them, who Hermione always finds watching her with that stupid tilt of her head!
Hermione groaned again, squeezing her eyes shut tight, she knew exactly who it was she needed to kiss.
“That won’t be necessary, they’re not in Azkaban.”
“Then, who is it?” Draco tilted his head to the side in confusion and Hermione suddenly had the urge to scream. “I mean that’s great, it certainly makes our job a lot easier, and we can have this all over with a lot sooner.”
Hermione dragged her face out of her hands to scowl at him, “There is no ‘we’ in this situation. You made this mess and I have to fix it.”
Draco was technically right, this could be over a lot sooner than either had anticipated, travelling up a couple floors of the Ministry was certainly quicker than a trip to Azkaban. That didn’t mean she had to do it today though. Technically Hermione had a couple weeks before she had to do it, she could spend that time pretending absolutely nothing was wrong before she finally had no choice. How long was a couple weeks though, in her four years working as an Unspeakable Hermione had learnt a couple weeks could be anywhere from a fortnight to three months. Did she really want to play chicken with the possibility of losing her magic?
Of course not, the notion was just absurd. Hermione had fought for her place in this society, had nearly died for it, she was not about to lose it all over some simple kiss.
She let out a deep sigh, God was she really about to do this?
Slapping her hands on the table Hermione stood with all the enthusiasm of a kid at the dentist, “I’ll be back soon.”
“Wait what, you’re going now? Do you want me to come with you?” He went to go grab his stuff but Hermione stopped him with her hand up.
“No. Just…no,” she said with a shake of her head, practically pleading. With that she left their room, stepping back into the lift seconds after calling for it.
She leant her head forward onto the closed doors with her eyes shut as the lift made its way up. How was she even supposed to do this exactly? Just, what, walk up to Black and kiss her? An ‘intimate’ kiss, what the fuck does that even mean. Would it have killed the author to have been just a bit more specific? She rubbed at her chest, wincing. Her anxiety had only continued to rise as she discovered what she needed to do, with it now sitting tight on her chest.
Who’s to say Black wouldn’t throw her off instantly? It’d probably be best if she at least partly explained. While it would be perhaps the most embarrassing thing Hermione, would ever experience she was at least confident Black would cooperate if she heard the risk of Hermione losing her magic, if not for her sake than at least for Draco’s.
The lift arrived sooner than she would’ve liked, with a ding announcing its arrival, and Hermione slowly stepped out heading for the magical creature division.
She was greeted with smiles and polite waves from employees as she walked through the department, a grimace was the most she could offer back.
Black’s office was annoyingly far away, the department feeling like a maze with its winding hallways. Hermione felt like she had walked past everyone in the division before she was finally standing in front of Black’s office. She didn’t bother knocking.
Black was sitting at her desk, papers scattered in front of her, her eyebrows raised as she finally looked up to see Hermione standing in her doorway.
“Granger, twice in a single morning. It must be my lucky day.” She gave a half smile. Her coat was gone, draped over the back of her chair and Hermione could finally see the off white loose, fitted blouse she’d been wearing underneath.
Hermione felt a flash of irritation go through her as she closed the door, watching as Black bookmarked the file she’d been reading before setting it aside.
She took a deep breath, steeling herself.
“I need your help.” Hermione stepped further into the office until she was a few feet away from the desk. She just needed to explain, get this over with, and get out.
“Oh?” Now Black was really smiling. She stood up, revealing a cream knee length skirt her blouse was lightly tucked into as she walked around her desk, standing between it and Hermione, “And how could I be of your assistance?”
Hermione forgot everything she had been planning to say, not expecting to be in such close proximity when explaining why she’s here.
“I,” she trailed off, looking up to meet Black’s eyes. Damn her and her absurd heels.
Waiting patiently for her to finish a coherent sentence Black tilted her head, and Hermione felt something inside her snap.
“Screw it.”
Hermione pushed Black back by the shoulders until the back of her legs hit her desk causing her to stumble down onto it. As she let out a gasp, bright blue eyes widening in surprise, Hermione grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her into a kiss.
“Mmph!” Black let out another gasp, throwing her hands back behind her on the desk to not topple backwards from the force of Hermione’s kiss.
Hermione eased up slightly, not having meant to put so much strength in grabbing Black, and felt the urge to roll her eyes. Of course Black’s lips were perfectly soft.
But after a moment, as Black still sat frozen, panic started to set into Hermione. Shit, shit. Why did she decide out of everything this was the route to take? And to top it off she couldn’t discern anything different, no sudden feeling or change in her magic.
She had to stop, apologise and actually explain before she got kicked out entirely. To be honest Hermione was surprised she hadn’t been shoved off already or slapped, maybe Black was just too frozen in shock.
Hermione loosened her hold and pulled away quickly, an apology on her tongue, and ready to face the wrath of Black, but just as fast the words died in her throat. The fury she’d expected to see across Black’s face was non-existent. Instead her mouth was slightly opened as she breathed through it, a light blush had worked its way onto her cheeks, and her eyes. Blown wide with want.
Wait, what?
She barely had a second to comprehend before Black was moving, grabbing Hermione by the front of her shirt and yanking her back in, this time taking full control of the kiss. Hermione didn’t hesitate to reciprocate.
A few moments later Hermione felt it, a tightness in her chest unravelling. What she had assumed to be anxiety slowly building up in her all morning, and now that it was gone it felt like she could finally breathe again.
Hermione couldn’t stop herself from gasping as she felt the curse break and Black used it to her full advantage to deepen the kiss.
Really there was no need to continue, Hermione got what she came here for, all she had to do was leave. And yet, she couldn’t seem to pry herself away.
Black slackened her grip on Hermione’s shirt as she pushed her away, and thank god at least one of them was getting their sense back.
Except that wasn’t the case at all, in fact quite the opposite, as Hermione now found herself to be the one leaning back against the desk as Black stood and somehow flipped their positions with ease.
The desk wasn’t necessarily high but Hermione wasn’t exactly tall either, so as she fell against it, half sitting on the edge, her feet barely reached the ground. She tried to reach her hand back behind to find purchase on the desk, but with notes everywhere it only caused her to slip back and lose her balance, papers falling to the floor. Narcissa’s left hand splayed out along her back, steadying Hermione in keeping her close.
Hermione could feel her smile into the kiss.
Oh God, oh Merlin, what was Hermione doing? She should’ve left ages ago, when all she needed to do was take a step back, when she was still the one in control. And now she was pinned against Narcissa, no easy way to bow out, and had absolutely no desire of stopping.
In quick succession Hermione discovered two things about Narcissa she never thought she’d learn in her lifetime. The first thing, the lip gloss Hermione always noticed her wearing had a sweet vanilla taste. The second, Narcissa was playful with her kisses, intermittently biting and tugging at Hermione’s bottom lip with an expertise in leaving her wanting for more.
And whether by divine intervention or just pure coincidence, her wish was granted. It seemed Narcissa had grown bored of simply kissing and with her right hand she’d let rest on the desk grazing Hermione’s hip, she gripped the base of Hermione’s ponytail and pulled, revealing the underside of her jaw. Narcissa didn’t waste any time in moving onto her neck, sucking and kissing along her pulse. Nothing could’ve stopped the whimper that left Hermione’s lips.
An honest to god whimper. Hermione had never heard herself make a noise like that before, what the hell was happening?
To top it off Narcissa chuckled, clearly having heard Hermione’s reaction.
Hermione was burning, it would’ve been in embarrassment if her brain hadn’t just short circuited at Narcissa’s laugh, low and deep right below her ear. Through her hazy mind she grabbed at Narcissa’s shoulder’s, leaning her head back further to give better access to her neck. She was rewarded with another little tug on her hair, sharp nails grazing along her scalp,
“Good girl,” Narcissa whispered softly, and oh Hermione melted, becoming a puddle in her arms.
Hermione had a lot she needed to reevaluate about herself.
Just when she thought she couldn’t get any more flushed and flustered, Narcissa slid a leg in between hers, her thigh applying pressure in all the right places.
This time Narcissa swallowed the whimper that came out of her with another deep kiss, letting out her own small hum of satisfaction. Aware of just how completely Hermione was at her mercy.
There were too many sensations for Hermione to focus. The hand on her back trailing down until fingers dug into her hip and the other hand still wrapped around her hair. A burst of cold against the side of her neck where air hit the moisture left over from opened mouth kisses, a mouth warm against hers catching onto her already tingling bottom lip, and now the leg.
Not caring anymore, Hermione gripped Narcissa by the waist pulling her in closer, her thigh slipping further in between Hermione’s and finally giving her some of the friction she desperately craved, she moaned into Narcissa’s mouth.
It still wasn't enough, she needed more, she needed-
A sharp dinging sound rang throughout the office once, twice, before disappearing as if nothing happened.
Hermione jerked back, her eyes going wide as she was brought back down to earth. Narcissa was slower to pull away, lazily detangling her hand from her ponytail.
She smirked down at Hermione but it did nothing to hide her flushed face, nor the puffiness of her lips, pink and wiped free from the lip gloss she'd been wearing.
She let go of Hermione’s hip to wipe at her neck, no doubt where the missing lip gloss had found itself.
“I have a meeting in five I have to go to,” she said, breathless.
Right yes, the Ministry, the office. They were still in Narcissa’s office, where anyone could have walked in. Dear Merlin, what if someone heard them!
“So, was that all, or is there something else you need my help with?”
Mortification was setting into Hermione, how did she let it get this far?
Narcissa lightly brushed her thumb along Hermione’s lips, of course, it made sense her lip gloss would be there too.
“I,” her breath stuttered, “I have to go.” Hermione weakly nudged Narcissa back, her feet fully landing back onto the ground, unsteady as she slipped out from between her and the desk and rushed towards the door.
“Hermione, wait,” Narcissa called out, catching her arm before she could succeed in making her escape.
“Your hair.” She brung a hand up, twirling a few curls that had dropped out of Hermione’s ponytail and tucked them behind her ear, “There, perfect.” Narcissa cocked her head with a smile, eyes soft.
Hermione felt her stomach flip.
Yanking the door open, Hermione hurried out of the room and back out through the department, having to restrain herself from running past everyone who gave her curious looks.
She made it back to the lift in record time, and as she stood in it alone a breath shuddered out of her as she brought her hand up to cover her mouth.
That… had not gone how she expected.
What the hell had happened to her plan? Explain, kiss her, and get the fuck out? If she was being honest with herself Hermione knew what happened, the plan had been thrown out the window as soon as Narcissa began to kiss her back. Out of all the ways she could’ve predicted it going, Narcissa taking control hadn’t even crossed her mind.
It felt weird to address her as Narcissa, she’d been ‘Black’ to Hermione ever since she announced her divorce to the world years ago, but a switch had been flicked in her head and there was no way she could refer to her as Black now. Not after she almost had her way with Hermione.
It certainly made her stop to think. Sure, Narcissa could’ve just decided to go with the flow, but apart from her first initial look of shock she hadn’t seemed confused or surprised in the slightest. In fact Hermione would even go to say Narcissa had seemed pleased with herself as she’d tucked Hermione’s hair away.
Had she been reading Narcissa wrong all this time? Every time she’d caught Narcissa watching her, had she actually been thinking what it’d be like to have Hermione. Imagining her pinned on her desk or office door as she explored, drawing out noises Hermione didn't even know she could make. Had she ever imagined more than where they had stopped today. If Narcissa hadn’t had a meeting she needed to go to would she have taken it further, taken Hermione’s needs into her own hands and unbuttoned her trousers, slipping her fingers underneath. Or was she the kind of woman to drop to her knees instead, letting Hermione have a turn at tugging on her hair as she used her mouth to give Hermione what she was sorely craving. Vanilla lip gloss mixing with Hermione’s arousal as Narcissa tasted her, bringing her to the brink of-
The lift doors opened, startling Hermione out of her thoughts. She huffed in frustration as she made her way back to her and Draco’s lab, thankfully nothing hit her in the chest when she entered this time.
Draco was sitting on one of their stools, bent over as he scribbled on paper and read through the tome they’d had earlier. He looked up upon hearing her footsteps, leaping out of his seat.
“You’re back! I didn’t think you’d return so soon. How did it go, did it work, is the curse gone?”
Hermione looked away from his expectant face.
“You owe me,” she said quietly, trying to muster all the anger she had felt last time she saw him. She hoped he would take the redness of her face for rage instead of what it truly was.
“It worked?” He looked so hopeful.
Hermione gave a small nod of her head, still looking off to the side.
“Oh thank Merlin!” Draco let out a laugh of relief, squeezing her tight. She shouldn’t have been shocked by his hug, it hadn’t taken long to discover in the beginning of their friendship that Draco could be clingy.
“So,” he drawled out the word as he released her, a grin spreading across his face, “who was it?”
“Yeah, we’re not doing this.” She walked past him to their workbench, curious to see what he’s learnt about their newfound project.
“Hermione!” Draco pleaded, catching up behind, “Come on, who was it? Your shirt was definitely not that wrinkled when you left so it couldn't have been that bad.”
Shit, Hermione quickly straightened her shirt, pulling it down and erasing the evidence of where Narcissa had grabbed her.
“It doesn’t matter, it’s done.” She shut down the conversation, picking up and reading the notes he’d just finished writing.
Draco grumbled before taking his place beside her, going back to his work with ease.
Hermione tried to do the same, but her mind kept wandering back to Narcissa. She hoped she wouldn’t have to curse herself again to get Narcissa to kiss her like that once more.