Fans of Harry Potter Femmeslash

Author:Lash_Larue
Title:"You Never Know"
Pairing: Hermione/Millicent
Rating: soft R, maybe
Summary: stuff happens
Warnings:mild Girlsex, mild cursing, implied boyslash
Word Count:5300
Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling

AN: Prhaps AU since it is set in 5th year and there is no mention of Umbridge. I just didn't want to fool with her.



You Never Know…

Hermione’s studies were interrupted by a rather loud exclamation of despair from a couple aisles over, deep in the stacks of the library. The exclamation was followed by the sound of a book hitting the floor, and what might have been crying. O.W.L.’s were fast approaching, and Hermione did not appreciate the distraction.
She had gotten special permission to be in the library after hours, and had not expected anyone else to be there.
So when the noise continued for a while, she headed towards the source of the sound to remind whoever it was that there were other people in the world. She rounded the end of a row, turned down it, and was greeted by an extraordinary sight. There before her was Millicent Bullstrode, seated behind a scattered pile of class notes and reference books, with her face buried in her arms, sobbing. A corner of her mind registered surprise that Millicent could cry at all, much less in the library.

“Millicent,” she said tentatively, “can I help you with something?” For some reason Hermione actually felt sorry for the much larger girl, despite the ill treatment she had endured from her and her Slytherin cronies. Millicent looked up; her large face streaked with tears, her skin a blotchy red.

“What, Granger, think it’s funny to see me like this? Want to rub it in? Well go ahead, I suppose I can’t blame you wanting to get me while I’m down,” said Millicent glumly. Hermione admitted to herself that for a moment she had been gratified to see Millicent looking so helpless. The episode during the dueling club meeting, and the subsequent polyjuice disaster, was still a raw spot in her mind.

“No, I just didn’t expect anyone else to be here this late. I ‘m revising for the O.W.L.’s, and the noise distracted me.”

“What do you need to revise for? You’re always top in everything. It’s easy for you,” grumbled Millicent.

“I sometimes take first because I study very hard, it isn’t easy at all,” insisted Hermione. She didn’t like it when her academic prowess was written off as providence.

“Really?” said Millicent, clearly shocked.

“Of course.” Hermione could not help but ask her, “What are you working on?”

“Bleeding Transfiguration. I just can’t get my head ‘round it,” Millicent replied with a sigh. She gave a little start, as if just realizing that she had been speaking almost civilly to Hermione Granger, and snapped,“What do you care, anyway?” It was a fair question, Hermione realized, and one that she could not answer to her own satisfaction.

“I was just checking on the noise,” Hermione said primly, “if you don’t want any help, just say so. But do please try and keep it down would you?” She turned to leave.

“You’d really help me?” came the sound of Millicent’s voice. Hermione turned around.

“Of course, one of the best ways to study is to help someone else study. But you have to promise not to put me in a headlock, or anything.”

“Yeah, I promise,” replied Millicent.

“Well, then let’s have a look at your notes,” said Hermione as she sat across from Bullstrode and began gathering the scattered notes together. She found to her surprise that the notes were fairly good, Millicent had clearly been trying in class. “Well, these notes aren’t bad; we just need to organize them a bit. You take this pile and sort them by date, I’ll just run over to my table and bring a few notes of my own. I was studying Transfiguration myself, as it happens.” Millicent stared at the retreating figure for a moment before setting to work. Hermione returned in a few minutes, staggering under the weight of several notebooks. “Wheew, I should have used a hover charm,” she said as she resumed her seat.

“A few notes?” queried Millicent, and what might have almost been a smile momentarily changed her face.

“Well, I only brought the ones from the last two terms. Apart from theory, not much we studied in the first three terms will be on the exam anyway. Now then, is there any particular part of transfiguration that gives you trouble?”

“Why are you doing this?” asked Millicent, suddenly suspicious. “Are you just going to make fun of me afterwards the way Malfoy and Parkinson do?”

“I’d never make fun of someone who is really trying to learn,” answered Hermione, “and why would your friends make fun of you?”

“They aren’t my friends; they just let me hang out with them in case they get threatened. They call me their pet Troll when they think I can’t hear them,” she said softly. Hermione’s heart cringed at the look on Millicent’s face. She tentatively patted Millicent on the arm.

“Let’s get started Millicent, now, what do you think you need the most work on?”

“Transfiguring animals into inanimate objects,” answered Millicent. “I don’t like that. It seems cruel.” Hermione was genuinely surprised by that statement. She was also surprised that she had never thought of that herself.

“Well, it doesn’t actually hurt them, usually,” Hermione offered, “and you can change them back, no harm done.”

“I guess you’re right,” said Millicent gloomily, “but what’s wrong with a rat? It can’t help being a rat, if you want a teacup; get a teacup for Merlin’s sake.” Hermione chewed on that for a moment.

“I think you’re right Millicent. The spells are in the curriculum for practice. I guess the thinking is that it might be useful at times. But now that you bring it up, it does seem cruel. It must be frightening to them.”

“People are always trying to make things what they are not,” said Millicent sadly. “My Mum tried for years to make me pretty and dainty, like she is. But I’m just a huge freak, so she gave up. Pansy tried to show me how to do makeup in our first year, to “make me prettier”. She gave up too. That’s why I love my cat; she doesn’t care what I look like. She loves me; she doesn’t think I need to be something else.”

Hermione was stunned, and she realized that she too had been judging Millicent on her appearance almost as much as her behavior while with her fellow Slytherins. Looking back, she realized that Millicent had never been mean to her the times they had encountered one another alone, she had usually hurried off, in fact. “Millicent,” said Hermione slowly, “do you hate me because I’m a Mudblood?” Millicent stared at her.

“I don’t hate you at all, I never have. I just rag on you when I’m with the Slytherins because they expect me to. I have to live with them, and they pick on me enough as it is,” answered Millicent.

“Then why did you try and tear my head off in dueling club?” asked Hermione. Millicent flushed red.

“Merlin, Granger, I was scared! I knew I didn’t have a prayer against you magically, my only hope was to grab you and hang on.” The thought of Millicent Bullstrode being scared of her set Hermione to giggling, and after a moment’s suspicious glaring, Millicent laughed. It was a marvelous laugh, quite different from the guttural chuckle she used in the company of the other Slytherins, the kind of laugh that makes the hearts of others leap upon hearing it. Hermione realized that it was the first time she had ever heard this girl laugh.

“You have a marvelous laugh, Millicent!” she told the Slytherin facing her. “You should use it more often!” Again the suspicious look flared across Millicent’s face, but after a moment…

“My cat Muffy is the only living thing here that has ever made me feel like laughing. Until just now.” A rather awkward silence fell, and Hermione’s heart broke just a little.

“Let’s get to work then, we’ll have to study the animal transfiguration, since it will be on the examinations. But I think you’re right, something should be done about that. Perhaps we can do something about it over the summer.” The sound of the “we” caused a funny sort of runny feeling, in Millicent’s chest.

“All right,” agreed Millicent, “let me move that chair over here for you, it will be easier if we sit beside each other.” Hermione smiled and stood up while Millicent lifted the chair easily over the table. She then sat down beside Millicent.

“Now then, let’s start with the theory that supports the transfiguration of living things into objects,” said Hermione briskly… some time later… “Marvelous, Millicent, that was spot on!” said Hermione happily.

“Thanks, Gran- Hermione, “Millicent said, “I’m right beat though. I’ve got to get to bed.” Hermione glanced at the clock on the wall.

“Goodness, it is late, you’re right. Thank you for studying with me, Millicent.”

It was a measure of how much had been learned that night when Millicent’s reply was, “You’re welcome. Would you care to study again tomorrow evening? I have a pass for then too.”

“Certainly, maybe we can have a go at potions. Professor Snape will be very hard to satisfy.”

“Greasy Git,” muttered Millicent. Hermione looked startled for a second, and then she gave Millicent a quick hug, and gathered up her things.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night, Millicent,” said Hermione as she left.

Millicent had a very thoughtful look on her face as she slowly gathered her things and made her way back to her dormitory.

The period after lunch found the Gryffindors and the Slytherins in the corridor outside the Potions classroom, waiting for Snape to open the door.

“Hey Granger!” shouted Malfoy as the door swung open, “you going to sharpen those teeth on the tables again?” There was the usual sycophantic giggling among the rest of the Slytherins, except for one.

“Oh shut it, Malfoy,” said Millicent Bullstrode as she shoved past him, “it’s just not funny.” Malfoy and the other Slytherins were too shocked to reply, but more than one curious glance was cast at Millicent during the class.

“Thanks for sticking up for me today Millicent,” said Hermione as she sat her notes on the table next to the larger girl.

“About time someone told the little prat he’s not funny. Everybody sucks up to him because his father is a rich Death-eater. I’m tired of the arrogant little snot myself. He’s always running someone down. I’ve been dying to tell him off for ages,” said Millicent calmly.

“Why now?” asked Hermione.

“I guess I never cared enough before to say anything. You’re more a friend to me than Draco Malfoy ever was.”

“Thank you, Millicent, I’d like for us to be friends.”

“Me too,” said Millicent softly, “truthfully I’ve always wanted to be your friend. I just never thought you’d want to. I mean, you’re smart, and pretty, and I’m a big dumb moose.”

“You’re far from dumb, Millicent, and no more a moose than I am a Beaver. Let’s get started on these Potion’s notes.” She thinks I’m pretty! thought Hermione.

Two weeks passed, and some of the other Slytherins were inspired by Millicent’s example. Draco’s retinue shrank, and he was so puzzled by this turn of events that his stream of insults slowed to a trickle. The Slytherins and the Gryffindors weren’t precisely cordial, but the constant bickering had moderated. Both sides seemed relieved, to tell the truth.

Hermione and Millicent were at their usual place in the library, doing final revision for Potions.
The potions study went well, and they moved on to charms.

“I can never get this wand motion,” groaned Millicent, “I’m too clumsy.”

“It’s tricky,” admitted Hermione, “Ron still doesn’t have it right. Here, let’s try this.” Hermione moved around behind Millicent. “Raise your wand to the start position,” she instructed, and Millicent did. “Now, just relax your arm, and let me move it.” Hermione leaned over and grasped Millicent’s hand, and guided it through the intricate motion of the spell. Millicent was not aware of anything but the feeling of Hermione’s breasts pressed against her back, the softness of her cheek by her ear, and the warmth of the hand holding her own. “You see, you have to keep the motion fluid, once more.” The second run-through was complete, when Hermione noticed that Millicent was shaking a little. “Millie, are you all right?”

For answer Millicent dropped her wand, and took Hermione’s hand in her own. She slowly brought Hermione’s hand to her lips, and placed a soft kiss squarely in the palm. She rose and turned to face Hermione.
“I love you Hermione,” she said simply. “I know you can’t feel the same for me, but I had to tell you. I can never thank you enough for all you’ve done for me. I think I’ll do okay on my Exams now, but I don’t think I can study with you any longer. To be this close to you and not dare to touch you, I just can’t do that any more.” She left her notes on the table and swiftly left the library, Hermione, at a loss for words, gazed after her. In a moment she looked at the spot on her palm where Millicent had kissed her. She was not at all sure what she felt.

Hermione gathered Millicent’s things and placed them in a locker, then gathered her own and returned to her common room. Ginny was the only student present, at work in a corner. She looked up. “Hermione! Just who I need to see, could you have a look at this History of Magic paper for me?” Hermione sat beside Ginny and began to read. “Hermione, what sort of spell did you use on Millicent Bullstrode? She’s almost pleasant now, and she’s got Malfoy so confused that half the time he forgets to be an arsehole.”

“No spell, I’ve just been helping her study. Turns out she was lonely, that’s why she was so aggressive. This paper is fine, Ginny, you’ve just got these dates switched,” said Hermione, indicating the errant years.

“Thanks ‘Mione. I guess that makes sense about Millicent, I was starting to think she was in love with you or something, the way she’s been sticking up for you,” said Ginny, half laughing. Hermione looked at the table. “Merlin!” hissed Ginny, “is she in love with you?” Slowly, Hermione nodded. “How do you feel about that?”

“I honestly don’t know,” admitted Hermione. “She’s a wonderful study partner, and life has definitely gotten easier since she told off Malfoy. She has a beautiful laugh, too.”

“Uh-oh,” said Ginny grinning, “sounds like you’re about to experience an awakening.”

“What do you mean?” asked Hermione.

“Well, I’ve always thought you were more suited to girls than guys. Just the way you hold yourself around them. You’re open with girls, when the guys start in on you, you shrink up. Angelina’s noticed it too.”

“So, have you two been having a good laugh at Hermione the lesbian?” asked a red-faced Miss Granger.

“You won’t find either one of us laughing at lesbians,” said Ginny flatly, “welcome to the club, if you’re here.”

“You and Angelina?”

“Six months now, we just don’t want the hassle of coming out, not till I’m finished school. We don’t exactly hide, but it’s simpler. We sometimes sneak off to the room of requirement for some alone time. Look Hermione, only you know how you feel about Millicent. But don’t let the fact that she’s a girl influence your feelings, you never know.”

“I thought you hated Millicent?”

“Well, we did get off to a rough start, what with her being in Draco’s little band of thugs. She seems to have scuttled that lot though, and she actually smiled at me the other day.”

“She has a lovely smile,” Hermione acknowledged. Ginny smiled and kissed her on the cheek, and then left for bed. Hermione sat quietly for a time, reviewing the last weeks. When she too went to bed, her face was no longer clouded.

Breakfast the next morning was the usual noisy affair. Hermione was headed to the Gryffindor table when she noticed that Millicent was sitting by herself at one end of the Slytherin table. Hermione set her jaw, walked over to Millicent, and sat directly across from her. She ignored the looks from the Slytherins farther down the table.

“I want to study with you tonight, Millie,” she said quietly.

“You know I can’t Hermione,” replied Millicent as she threw a glance back down the table, “and you know why. Please don’t make this harder for me than it already is.”

“I know why you said you couldn’t. What if I was to tell you that there is a distinct possibility that your reason is invalid?” asked Hermione.

“What?” said a stunned Millicent.

“I mean that I am not absolutely sure how I feel, Millie. But I want to find out, and I certainly don’t have any objection to your touching me. I think we both need to see what develops. Besides, I like studying with you. You work, most of my friends wait for me to do the work for them.”

“We’re friends?” whispered Millicent.

“Friends for sure, perhaps much more in time. I admit that I am a bit confused, but I know that I don’t want to stop seeing you, Millie,” Hermione said earnestly.

“You aren’t teasing me, are you Hermione,” asked Millicent, her eyes glistening.

“No, I’m not teasing at all. Will I see you at our usual time, then?”

“Yes,” answered Millicent, and her face was a mask of desperate hope and sheer terror.

“I’ll see you in class,” said Hermione, and she went to sit by Ginny and Angelina. Millicent stared at her unfinished breakfast. Slowly a fragile smile spread over her face.

“Oi, Bullstrode!” yelled Draco Malfoy. “Making a date with your Mudblood buddy?” Millicent stood slowly from her seat, and rose to her quite impressive height. She calmly walked over and stood behind Malfoy.

“Draco,” she said calmly, “if I ever again hear you call anyone “Mudblood”, I am going to force-feed your testicles to you. If I can find them, that is.” She put her hand on Malfoy’s shoulder and squeezed. Draco turned pale, and began to sweat. “Try and learn some manners, you little shit.” Millicent calmly left the hall. Everyone who had heard the exchange was suddenly extremely busy eating. Draco seemed to have lost his appetite, however.

Hermione was beginning to think that Millicent was not going to show up, but she did, notes and all. Hermione rose to greet her, “You’re here!” she said happily.

“I didn’t mean to come, but I had to take the chance, I’ve never been so scared in my life. If this is a joke, Hermione Granger, I am quite certain that I shall explode.”

“It’s not a joke, Millie. I’m not quite sure how I feel, this is different. But I know I want you in my life, you touch something in me that no one else has,” Hermione tried to explain.

“It doesn’t bother you that I’m a girl too?” asked Millicent.

“Not bother, surprise, more like. But I know I have feelings for you, and that these feelings are not like any I have had for anyone else. Shall we get to work?” They did.

Sometime during the three hours they spent together that evening, their hands wound up entwined. Neither of them spoke of it, it seemed too natural to remark on. It was a very fruitful study period.

“How is it going with you and Millicent?” Ginny asked Hermione. They were once again alone in the common room.

“Okay, I think, we got a lot of revision done tonight,” Hermione replied.

“Did you find out anything about how you feel towards her?”
“Well, I enjoy being with her, and I feel safe and cared for with her,” Hermione ventured.

“I see; did she kiss you?”

“No, but we held hands,” Hermione said, smiling.

“Ohboy; snogging is hormones. Hand-holding is something else,” Ginny said ominously.

“What do you mean?”

“Angie and I held hands for weeks before we kissed,” explained Ginny. “Both of us were too scared to do anything else. It was nice though,” Ginny’s eyes took on a far-away look.

“Ginny…” said Hermione tentatively. Ginny looked at her. “What do girls do with each other when they are in love?”

“Pretty much whatever they feel comfortable doing, I guess. There isn’t exactly a handbook.”

“But there must be books,” protested Hermione, “there are books for everything.”

“Well, you won’t find books like that in the library, I promise you. Most books about lesbian love are just crap written by guys to get themselves off.” Hermione looked crestfallen. “All right, I do have one book that isn’t all crap. At least it was written by actual lesbians. But it’s still not a roadmap, okay? It’s a story of these two women and how they love each other. It does however, have pretty good descriptions. I’ll loan it to you, but for goodness sake don’t leave it lying around.”

“Thanks, Ginny!” exclaimed Hermione, and she leaned over and kissed Ginny on the cheek.

“Watch it Granger,” teased Ginny, “I’m taken, and my girl is a deal bigger than you.”

“Yes, but she’s not bigger than my girl,” replied Hermione smugly. “My girl,” thought Hermione. Was that who Millicent was? Was she really falling in love with Millicent Bullstrode?

“Here’s that book you wanted, Hermione,” said Ginny as she sat beside her at breakfast. Hermione experienced a moment of panic, and then realized that Ginny had done exactly the right thing. No one would turn a hair at Hermione Granger asking for a book.

“Thanks, Gin, I’ll take good care of it,” promised Hermione as she tucked the book into her bag.

The first three periods dragged on endlessly, but the break came at last. And Hermione hastened to the Prefect’s bathroom and locked herself in. She wasn’t hungry anyway. She settled in a corner and began reading; pretty soon her eyes went round. A bit later she began to shift a little where she sat. Hermione of course had a good intellectual understanding of sex, even if she had no real knowledge of it beyond masturbation. But the story of the love of these two women soon had her thoroughly aroused. She closed her eyes, and her free hand slipped under her robes. She gently stroked her thighs, and then edged her hand under her jumper. This was not new for Hermione, but the vision in her brain was. She saw Millicent beside her, and it was Millie’s large hands that caressed her breasts and toyed with her nipples, it was Millie’s hand that slipped into her panties, it was Millie’s fingers inside her when the soft cry escaped her lips, and it was altogether lovely.

Hermione washed her hands and face, and dashed off to the hall just in time to grab a bite to eat. Her appetite had returned with a vengeance.

Two days after Hermione’s literary adventure, she and Millicent were finishing up a particularly trying session on Potions. They were both exhausted. “I’m tired, Millie,” said Hermione, and she leaned her head over onto Millicent’s shoulder. After a moment’s hesitation, Millicent softly stroked Hermione’s hair, and soon her head had tilted over onto Hermione’s. If Hermione hadn’t sneezed, they would have been there in the morning.

“Oh my word,” said Millicent, “this will never do. If we fall asleep here Madame Pince will skin us alive.”

“At least, but I don’t want to leave. This is so lovely,” Hermione sighed. “You are of course correct, let’s pack this up.” With the ease of long practice they soon had their notes and books bagged up, and were walking down the hall to the spot where their paths diverged. “Goodnight Millie, pleasant dreams,” Hermione wished her. Then she stood on tiptoes and kissed Millie on the cheek. Millie stared after Hermione until she was out of sight, and then headed for her dorm, her hand on the spot where Hermione had kissed her. Millicent’s dreams were pleasant indeed.

The time for the O.W.L.’s had arrived at last, and Hermione and Millicent saw each other only in passing. On occasion they sat an exam together, but both of them were too serious about tests to do anything but nod to each other on the way into the Great Hall. At last, it was over.

“Meet me by Hagrids garden, right after dinner,” said the note that appeared on Millicent’s plate that evening. She had no need to wonder who it was from. Millie picked at her food that night.

Slipping through the twilight, Millicent made her way towards Hagrids. It had been no trouble to get away, few people kept track of Millie. A familiar figure showed in front of her. “You’re really here,” said Millicent in relief and wonder.

“I’ve missed you Millie,” said Hermione, and she stepped forward and embraced the taller girl.

Millicent laid her cheek on top of Hermione’s bushy head, and hugged her gently. “I’ve missed you too, Hermie,” she said softly.

“How did your exams go?” asked Hermione, in the vicinity of Millie’s chest.

“Pretty good I think, thanks to you. I owe you Hermione,” Millicent said earnestly.

“Then I shall demand payment now,” Hermione responded. Millicent started, and drew back, her face stricken. “Kiss me, Millicent Bullstrode,” said Hermione.

It took a moment for her to dare it, but Millie bent her head, and softly placed her lips on Hermione’s. After what might have been moments or decades, the kiss broke, and Hermione rested her head on Millicent’s breast. Millicent kissed the top of Hermione’s head, and held her close as tears flooded down her cheeks. “This cannot be real,” thought Millie. But she did not let go.

There was general revelry amongst the fifth years the following day. They all felt that a huge weight had been lifted from them. Hermione, of course, was convinced that she had failed everything. Millicent was trying to reassure her as they sat in a remote corner of the library.

“Hermione, don’t be ridiculous. I’m sure that I did well. We studied together. You are lots smarter than I am. You did fine. I promise.” Millicent held Hermione to her breast and again kissed the top of her head. She could not help it; the top of Hermione’s head seemed special made for kissing.

“Well, well, well,” said a sneering voice, “what do we have here? A mudblood and a she-troll. What on earth shall we call the offspring?” Draco Malfoy stood before them, backed up by Crabbe and Goyle, as usual. Millicent stood up, and moved in front of Hermione.

“Leave Draco, before I forget I’m a lady,” she said clearly.

“Lady?” spat Draco, “you? It was bad enough when you were part troll, but now you’re snogging a Mudblood! And a girl to boot, well, almost a girl, it is only Granger.” Millicent grabbed the front of Draco’s robes, and hoisted him to his tiptoes.

“I told you what I would do to you if you ever again said the word ‘Mudblood’ in my presence, didn’t I Malfoy?” Draco was frightened, in spite of himself. He had indeed forgotten Millicent’s promise. He remembered now, right enough. He plunged his hand into his pocket, and produced his wand. Millicent calmly took it from him. She grasped it in the middle with her teeth, and with a sharp snap, broke it. She tossed it aside.

At the sight of Millicent taking on Malfoy for her again, a fire lit in Hermione’s breast, and it spread downward, hardening her nipples and melting her core. Her knees wobbled, and her heart pounded fiercely. She was experiencing a hunger that had nothing to do with food. It was a new feeling for her, and though it was not a comfortable one, she decided that she liked it.

“Crabbe, Goyle, get her! Help me!” pleaded Draco. Crabbe and Goyle looked long at each other.

“Screw you, Draco,” said Goyle at last. “They’re in love; leave them alone, you little prick.” Goyle took Crabbe’s hand and they walked away. Draco went paler than normal.

“Millie,” asked Hermione, “what did you tell Draco you were going to do to him?”

“SHE SAID SHE WAS GOING TO FORCE-FEED ME MY OWN TESTICLES!!!”shrieked Malfoy.

“Oh, is that all?” said Hermione. “Carry on then, dear.” Draco’s eyes bulged.

“You can’t let her do that, you’re a prefect!” protested Malfoy.

“And you’re an arsehole,” countered Hermione, “but you have a point. Millie, might I offer a suggestion?”

“Of course Hermione, you know I always value your opinion,” she answered.

“Hang him up on the cloak rack; we’ll see if he can come up with a reason for being there, other than the truth.”

“What makes you think I won’t turn you both in,” spat Draco.

“Fine then, tell everyone that a girl took your wand from you, broke it in two, and hung you up to dry.” Draco had no comeback for that one.

“See you later Draco, sweet dreams,” said Millicent as they left the library. They had taken the precaution of binding his hands firmly with spellotape. He might get loose, but it would cost skin.

“Come with me, Millie,” said Hermione hoarsely. She sped off down the corridor and came soon to a door by a statue of a most confused-looking wizard. “Majestere,” said Hermione, and the door opened.

“This is the prefects’ bathroom,” said Millicent.

“Yes, it is,” said Hermione. “You attacked Draco Malfoy for me, and I know that you know how much trouble that could cause. You make my knees weak, Millicent Bullstrode, now kiss me.” Millicent didn’t hesitate; she bent to Hermione and kissed her, Millie’s hands sinking into Hermione’s hair. “Ohhh,” sighed Hermione. “I love you Millicent,” she whispered, “please love me.”

“I already told you that I love you, Hermione,” said a stunned looking Millicent, “you love me?”

“I do, and I should have been clearer. Make love with me Millie, now, please.”

“Anything you say, ‘Mione,” choked Millicent as she reached for the ties on Hermione’s robes. Her hands were quite nimble, and soon Hermione was sky-clad in front of her. Millicent was speechless.

“Now you, Millie,” whispered Hermione. Slowly, with shaking hands, Millicent removed her robes. “Oh. Millicent,” gasped Hermione, “you’re so beautiful!” In truth, Millicent Bullstrode was what was once called a “fine figure of a woman”. Her curves were lush, and her skin was pale as snow. Hermione reached out and cupped one of Millie’s breasts in her hand. “Your skin is so soft…”

Millicent drew Hermione to her, and they both felt a shock as their bare skin touched. For a time, they simply stood in a close embrace. Millicent kissed Hermione again, and looked at her, “Is this real?” she asked softly.

“As real as it gets,” breathed Hermione, “now take me Millie, please.”

This was new to them both, so everything was a marvelous surprise. Hermione found that Millicent’s strength was good for more than dealing with Draco, and that her large strong hands could be very gentle indeed. Or not, and in the end they found that they fit each other very well indeed, despite the difference in height. The Mermaid did not get much sleep. Neither did Draco.

They fell asleep in each other’s arms, cushioned by a thick stack of towels.

Hermione woke easily, feeling quite happy, and for a time she simply listened to Millicent breathing, and felt the beat of her heart under her hand. She reflected that Ginny had been right. You never know.

“Millie,” said Hermione quietly.

“Yes, love?” came the reply.

“More please.”

“Always.”