Beatrice Lestrange has always been an outsider in her own story. Born into one of the darkest families in the wizarding world, she grew up under the looming shadow of her infamous mother Bellatrix Lestrange.
Despite this, Beatrice is nothing like th...
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Hermione and Beatrice found themselves tangled together in a dim, secluded closet, their breathing uneven and their cheeks flushed from stolen moments of intimacy. It was becoming a habit now, one neither girl was inclined to break anytime soon. But just as Bea leaned in to claim another kiss, Hermione gently pressed a hand to her chest, halting her.
— Wait, Bee.— Hermione said softly, though her tone was serious.
Bea raised an eyebrow, trying to catch her breath. — What is it? — she asked, a little annoyed by the interruption but intrigued nonetheless.
Hermione hesitated for a moment, her hands still resting on Bea's shoulders.
— I've been thinking...about Defense Against the Dark Arts. About how useless Umbridge's classes are.—
Bea groaned, rolling her eyes. — Don't remind me. Every time she opens her mouth, I lose brain cells.—
Hermione let out a small laugh but quickly sobered. — No, listen. I talked to Harry. We both agree we need to do something about it. We can't just sit around and let her feed us lies. We need real practice, real defense. And...I think you and Harry should teach us.—
Bea froze, staring at Hermione like she'd grown a second head. — Wait, what? Me and Harry? Why not just Harry? II mean...he's the —
— Beatrice Lestrange.— Hermione interrupted, stepping closer with that determined glint in her eye that made Bea's heart race. — You're brilliant. You're strong. You're powerful, probably the most powerful witch in this school, and you're exactly who we need. Stop selling yourself short.—
Bea let out a frustrated sigh, shaking her head. — I don't know if I can do this. What if I mess up? What if I can't handle it? I mean, teaching? That's a huge responsibility.—
Hermione moved closer, her voice softening. — You can handle it, Bea. You're already a leader. People listen to you, they respect you. You're brave, you're capable, and...you care. That's what makes you perfect for this.—
Bea's gaze flickered to Hermione's, uncertainty clouding her eyes. — But what if I fail? —
Hermione sighed and cupped Bea's face gently, her touch sending a shiver down Bea's spine. — You won't. I believe in you. Harry believes in you. And I'll be right there to help you. You're not doing this alone.—
Bea opened her mouth to protest again, but Hermione silenced her by leaning in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to her lips. It was soft at first, a gentle coaxing, but then Hermione deepened it, her hands sliding into Bea's hair as she kissed her with a mixture of passion and certainty.
When they finally pulled apart, Bea was breathless, her resolve wavering. — You're playing dirty, Granger.— she murmured, her voice unsteady.
Hermione smirked, her hands still tangled in Bea's hair. — If that's what it takes to convince you, I'll keep doing it. — She leaned in again, brushing her lips over Bea's in teasing kisses, her voice a soft whisper between them. — Please, Bee. Do this for Harry. For everyone who's counting on us. You're not just powerful, you're inspiring. And I'll be with you every step of the way.—
