The sound of a struggle caught Hermione’s attention as she walked past the alley on her way home from the Ministry. It had been another exhausting day so she wasn’t entirely sure that she hadn’t imagined the sounds. Still, she immediately reached for her wand and gripped it tightly as she bravely changed direction. It had been six years since Voldemort’s defeat, but it was still second nature to be alert and ready for possible attack.
“Lumos,” she whispered as she ventured into the dark alley. This was Muggle London, after all, and she wasn’t about to roam around the back alleys without some sort of light. She walked a dozen steps before she finally saw what had caused the noise.
Two people were fighting. It took her a moment to identify that one was a man and the other was a woman, but she couldn’t tell which one had attacked the other. She muttered a charm to cast more light on the area despite knowing that it would startle the two Muggles. She was authorized to use any means necessary to protect the Wizarding world so a couple of obliviates wouldn’t cause much harm if it meant she was able to help save someone.
The woman looked over and frowned when the light became obvious. Hermione tightened her grip on her wand as she looked at the pretty woman, cursing herself for reacting in that way around some strange Muggle. It wasn’t often that she felt lust for people, preferring friendship and companionship to the physical needs that never seemed to last once they were sated. Of course, she didn’t have any particular experience in either as her brief relationship with Katie never had any particular desire and her even briefer sexual relationship with Angelina had certainly never had anything exxcept desire but her experience was enough for her to make a logical assumption.
The woman who was fighting (or attacking?) the man whose back was to Hermione was gorgeous. She was short and athletic with long dark hair and a pretty face. It wasn’t easy to tell her shape as she defended herself from the man, but Hermione noticed obvious curves beneath her tight white T-shirt. When she realized that she was ogling some stranger instead of trying to help, she instantly felt guilty. The guilt dissipated when the man turned towards her.
“Bloody hell,” she cursed as she found herself looking into a demonic face. He looked similar to a vampire, but unlike any she’d ever met. Her work at the Ministry brought her in contact with many magical creatures since she had made that her research specialty yet this creature didn’t seem familiar. Perhaps it was a hybrid of some sort. It intrigued her and she stepped forward curiously to examine it to determine if it was, indeed, some species of vampire. The very idea that there were other types of the creatures they knew was fascinating and made her wonder if there were other examples, too.
Before she could petrify the creature, as she certainly had no intention of analyzing it when it was flashing nasty looking fangs and seemed far too interested in killing her, there was a low grunt and the creature turned to dust. She frowned as she watched it disintegrate and looked across the pile of remains to see that the woman was holding what was obviously a stake.
“Why did you kill it?” Hermione demanded, annoyed that her chance for gaining new knowledge had been ruined, regardless of how attractive the woman happened to be.
“You people are fucking crazy,” the woman declared in an obvious American accent.
“American. That explains it,” Hermione muttered crossly.
“Explains what, English?” the woman asked as she pushed her thick hair away from her face and tilted her head. She grinned as she looked at Hermione and licked her busted bottom lip.
Hermione shifted when the woman’s dark gaze slowly moved over her from toe to head. She wasn’t accustomed to people looking at her like that, and certainly not women that Ron would declare ‘fucking hot’ as he drooled on the cement. While she had accepted her sexuality years ago after she first realized she preferred women to men, she honestly wasn’t used to finding many others with the same interests.
Katie had experimented with being a lesbian before deciding that it wasn’t really for her and was now involved with a male Chaser from her Quidditch team. Angelina was open-minded and into anything, basically, so Hermione didn’t really count her. Hermione, herself, had been with men (well, two) but that had been before she had realized that her attraction to women wasn’t a passing thing.
She blinked as she shook her head slightly and scowled at herself for thinking about such things when this woman was probably some brazen American who thought such a look would fluster her. While it did fluster her, it wasn’t for the reasons the woman probably assumed. When she remembered what they’d been discussing before her lapse into silence, she straightened her shoulders and said, “Explains why you so rudely did what you did without taking others into consideration. I’ve met very few Americans who actually think of anyone but themselves, after all.”
“Them’s fighting words, English,” the woman drawled lazily as she scratched a wound on her forearm. “’sides, I saved your life. Would think that should earn me a bit of gratitude, ya know? Talk about rude. Course, you can get on your knees and I’ll forgive ya.”
The woman’s use of English was almost painful with her slang and incomplete sentences. Hermione was so caught up in not grinding her teeth at hearing the simple word ‘you’ reduced to ‘ya’ that she almost missed the knee comment. However, her attention focused on the rude improper-speaking woman as she soon as she realized what she had said. “It takes far more to get me on my knees,” she told her prissily, blushing slightly when she realized she was almost flirting. Of course, she was pants at that sort of game so it was a very weak attempt, but it was still there. “Besides, I can take care of myself.”
“I’ll have to remember that,” the woman said with a smug smile as she moved closer. She smirked when Hermione took a step back. “Can you? What, with that stick? You gonna stake the big bad vampies with that twig, then?”
“Going to,” Hermione corrected automatically. That seemed to amuse the woman who was no longer quite so attractive when she was so blatantly overwhelming. She wasn’t used to people like this and it was bothersome that she wasn’t able to stand her ground against this forceful creature. She’d faced Voldemort, after all, so what was one sexy American?
“Fuck, you’re a prissy thing, ain’t ya?” the woman asked in a tone of voice that hinted that she was deliberately toying with Hermione now. She moved closer and Hermione stepped back again, uncertain why but knowing that it might be dangerous if this woman got too close. Very dangerous.
“I think I’ll be going now,” Hermione declared as she realized that she was in a dark alley with some strange American woman (no matter how attractive) who had just turned a creature to dust.
“Don’t think so, English,” the woman said as she moved faster than anything Hermione could recall seeing. Hermione found herself pressed up against a brick wall with the woman pressed against her in a way that went way beyond casual. “I like ‘em prissy.”
“Wha---“ Hermione’s words were suddenly caught by the firm press of lips against hers. Her eyes widened as the woman kissed her hard and rough. Instead of being outraged and fighting, as she should be doing, Hermione whimpered and parted her lips. She would blame three years of celibacy, she decided as she arched against the woman and kissed her back.
There was rubbing and grinding and thighs pressed in the very best of places and breasts pushed against each other as they kissed. Hermione rocked against a firm leg and dropped her wand as she touched and squeezed soft curves. The woman kissed her jaw and nibbled her neck before sucking the flesh so hard it was marked. Hermione panted as she shuddered, held the woman as she moaned and shook, then it was over.
“Slaying always makes me horny, English,” the woman murmured against her neck before she licked a drop of sweat away. She pulled back and grinned wickedly. “Maybe not so prissy after all. Don’t think prissy girls like to get fucked up against the wall.”
Hermione blushed as she licked her very swollen lips, her mind trying desperately to catch up with her body and recent actions. Oh God, what had she done? She wasn’t like this, not at all, and couldn’t believe she’d allowed herself to be taken against the wall, even if it had just been really intense snogging with lots of rubbing and no nakedness.
“Ya know, you’re kinda cute when you’re all blushy and speechless,” the woman announced as she straightened her shirt.
“I don’t do things like this,” Hermione blurted before she suddenly became quite interested in smoothing down her skirt.
“Nah, really?” The woman gave a look of exaggerated surprise. “Wouldn’t have figured that one out without being told.” She rolled her eyes. “May not be that smart but even I figured that one out, English.”
“My name is Hermione not English,” she muttered as she glared at the woman she’d just sort-of almost-maybe shagged against the wall. She wasn’t entirely sure what constituted a shag versus a snog but believed that the lack of nudity made this fall into the latter category despite their mutual release.
“Hermione?” the woman repeated slowly. “God, did your parents hate ya or something?”
“It’s a perfectly decent name!” Hermione defended sharply as she stopped worrying about the correct word for what they just did.
The woman grinned. “Fuck, you’re so easy to rile, English. Look pretty fucking hot all pissed off like that. Might make fighting with you a favorite pastime, ‘specially if the making up is half as fun as what we just did.”
“I’m pleased to provide amusement,” Hermione said sarcastically as she leaned over to pick up her wand, which she discreetly put into the pocket of her long skirt. It got darker when the light from her wand was covered, but that was good since the woman couldn’t see her blush now.
“Fuck, I’d better go or G-man will send out a search team,” the woman muttered. “Better not wander down anymore dark alleys, English. Never know what nasty creatures ya might find, though, now that I think about it, you didn’t seem scared. You seen vampires before?”
“Not like that,” she admitted before she remembered that she was speaking to a Muggle, albeit one who could fight physically and defeat an odd species of vampire. She needed to go home and do some research because her curiosity had now been piqued, which meant she’d not be satisfied until she had answers. “I need to go. It’s getting late.”
On impulse, she kissed the woman. If nothing else, this was certainly a memory she’d never expected to have. Next time Ron started to worry about her love life, or lack thereof, she’d have to smugly tell him about an illicit encounter with a gorgeous visiting American, though she’d leave out the details because the lines of friendships definitely extended prior to giving specifics about sexual activity to the two boys she considered her brothers.
“Thank you for saving me.” She smiled slightly as she withdrew. She started to walk towards the end of the alley and called over her shoulder, “Even though I could have taken care of myself.”
“The name’s Faith. You come here often?” the woman, Faith, asked in a lazy drawl that was obviously just one of her natural ways of speaking.
“I usually avoid dark alleys,” Hermione told her seriously even as she grinned and kept walking. “After all, you never know what sorts of dangerous creatures you might find in them.”
“We’re gonna meet again, Hermione,” Faith declared just as Hermione reached the street.
She didn’t turn around but she couldn’t resist smiling at her confident promise. Hermione disappeared into a crowd of people headed to the tube station before Faith reached the street. She glanced back once and idly ran her finger over the mark on her throat. “We’ll see,” she murmured before she looked away and headed home.
End