“Miss Hermione, will you marry me?”
Hermione looked up in shock from the glitter mess she was cleaning out of the carpet to see the world’s biggest, gaudiest, disgustingly expensive diamond engagement ring.
“Excuse me?” she asked, thunderstruck by the ring and the four year old that was holding it, looking 100% serious in his question.
Hermione swallowed hard. She would never say that she disliked any of her students, but Cannon Nott was the biggest menace she had ever had in her three years teaching Reception at The Dumbledore Primary School for Witches and Wizards.
Usually, Hermione would never speak ill of a child, but even at four, Cannon Nott was a terror. He’d come to class in his uniform, all done up properly and hair slicked to the side and by the end of the day, he would be covered in some substance or another, missing some piece of clothing, and his hair looking worse than Harry’s ever could.
His name was very fitting as well because the child was loud . He was always screaming at the top of his lungs, trying to scare the other children and Hermione in particular. He got a good laugh out of hearing her squeak in fear every time he snuck behind her and yelled “Boo!”
If he was not making another child cry, he was the one crying for being picked on in some inane way. To say the child was spoiled and never told the word no was an understatement of epic proportions. Honestly, he made the eleven-year-old version of Draco Malfoy look like an innocent, well behaved angel.
“I want to make you my wife,” Cannon explained with an annoyed huff, like his question made perfect sense and he was not a toddler asking a twenty-five year old grown woman to wed. “Then we can read stories every day and have snacks and no one boring has to be there.”
Ah, yes, yesterday he had been telling poor Scorpius Malfoy in his little bowtie and good manners that he was too boring to be friends any longer. It caused a spark of accidental magic that caused the art sink to burst and almost flood the art station.
“Cannon,” she started carefully. She couldn’t accept it but she also knew that if she didn’t handle this carefully, she could break the little boy’s heart. “I’m a bit too old to be your wife.”
“That’s not true,” he stated knowingly. “My mum said Dad’s new girlfriend could be my sister.”
Hermione did the quick math and was sure that was probably an exaggeration, but it did make her feel a bit bad for the young boy whose parents were getting a very public and very nasty divorce.
“I’m sorry, Cannon, but I can’t marry you,” she said in her softest, nicest teacher voice possible.
The little dark haired boy still started to sniffle and his deep brown eyes filled with tears. “You don’t love me?”
Oh Merlin. Hermione sighed and reached out to the little boy, giving him a motherly hug. “Of course I love you, darling, but I just can’t marry you.” She sighed and pulled back just a bit. She smoothed back his hair and cupped his face softly. “If I tell you a secret, do you promise not to tell anyone?”
Through crocodile tears, Cannon nodded. “I promise.”
“We can’t get married because I like girls,” she whispered.
Cannon’s mouth made a large O as he processed his shock, but it certainly stopped his tears.
“Why don’t you go outside and join everyone else for snack time and I’ll hold on to this for your Mum so you don’t lose it?” she asked, plucking the rather heavy diamond ring from his chubby little grasp. He nodded and took off at lightning speed, forgetting that his heart had just been broken. Oh what she wouldn't give to be that young and resilient again.
Hermione looked at the diamond ring in her hand. It was beyond gorgeous. She didn’t know her jewels well, but she was positive it was the best sort of diamond money could buy. Holding it up to the light, she saw a prism of rainbows inside with not one flaw. She knew Theo Nott was made of money so there was no need to question if it were real. She was probably holding more than her entire vault at Gringotts in her hand.
The more she examined the beautiful ring, the more tempting it became. She’d never come across something so expensive and beautiful again in her life. It wouldn’t hurt if she just slipped it on. No one would know.
The platinum band slipped over her finger easily and a magic laced in the metal fit it snuggly on her finger; not too tight, but a security charm to make sure it’d never fall off and become lost. She supposed that was something normal for rings that cost more than sin.
It looked too extravagant on her finger with her unpainted nails. It was beautiful, don’t get her wrong, but it didn’t fit the way she saw herself. She was too plain, too casual, too normal for the world this ring belonged in.
Hermione sighed and moved to take the ring off. Yet it wouldn’t budge. It wasn’t just stuck, but each time she gave it a little tug, she could feel magic keeping the ring in place. Quickly she grabbed her wand from her pocket and cast every spell she could think of to get the ring off her finger. Nothing worked saved for actually cutting her finger off, but she wasn’t that desperate.
“FUCK!” she shouted in frustration.
“Ohhhhh Miss Hermione said a bad word!” Scorpius Malfoy gasped as he and the rest of the class reentered the room after finishing their snacks.
“It’s not bad, my dad says it all the time,” Cannon waved him off.
“My Mum does all the time when her and Dad are having a timeout,” James nodded in agreement. Hermione’s eyes grew.
“They have timeouts?” Scorpius asked.
“Together?” Rose Weasley peeped up.
“Yeah, there’s lots of screaming and—”
“Okay! That’s enough! Let’s get into our reading circle!” she said, herding the children over to the bookshelves and ending that conversation before too much was said. She was going to have to write to Ginny about getting better silencing spells for the bedroom.
It wasn’t until late at night, already in bed, when Hermione remembered she still had the diamond ring on her finger. She held her left hand up in the air, examining the diamond in the moonlight. It was completely flawless.
Her mind drifted, imagining the engagement. Not Theo Nott on one knee, but the opening of the box and the excitement of knowing someone wanted you forever. She’d never had that. She thought she did when Ron kissed her during the battle of Hogwarts. She thought that was the moment she found her person. But when the battle was over and her adrenaline washed away, each kiss had something missing. Each touch was fine enough, enjoyable enough, but something was missing.
When they broke up, they chalked their romance to being something in the moment and now that the danger had worn away, so had the lust. They were still good friends. He quickly realized the magic of opposites attract and married Luna Lovegood barely a year later. They had their first daughter Rose and now Luna was pregnant with a second.
Hermione hadn’t minded one bit that her friends had found love; she was even a bridesmaid during the wedding. But it had been that wedding that solidified what was missing between her and Ron. It had been a small moment, a stupid drunk one, but as she danced with all her friends, she spun in a circle and found herself face to face with Cho Chang. The girl had always been beautiful. She understood why Harry had such a crush. Her dark eyes pulled Hermione in and her laugh twisted her gut.
Their bodies moved closer and closer together as they danced. Hermione always danced with her girlfriends like this, but there was something different in the way they exchanged touches. Cho’s hand on her waist tugged their hips closer. Hermione leaned in just enough for their breasts to occasionally touch. She could not stop looking at Cho’s lips.
When the song finished, Hermione found herself asking if Cho wanted to grab water with her. When Cho nodded, she took Hermione’s hand. It probably as something as simple as not to get lost in the crowd, but the smile that passed between the women said it was anything but simple.
They did not get drinks.
Instead they found a corner of the Burrow’s garden, hidden in the dark and far away from any party goers. To this day, Hermione wasn’t sure who kissed who first, but she still remembered the taste of strawberries and champagne and the way her body arched against Cho’s in a way it never had for Ron’s.
In bed, Hermione wet her lips as the memory washed over her. She knew she shouldn’t, that it was completely wrong, but she twisted the diamond ring on her finger until the large stone was facing inward. Her left hand snaked down between her legs and into her pajama bottoms. She wasn’t wearing underwear and the coolness of the diamond pressed against her hot skin made her moan softly. Lower still, she slipped two fingers into her wet folds and positioned the diamond right against her clit.
She had no idea what to do with her hands when Cho kissed her, but they found their way without having to be told. She cupped the other woman’s breasts and felt her body go slack as she appreciated the female form pressed up against her. Cho was experienced. Her hands gathered Hermione’s dress up and then her own, positioning her thigh between Hermione’s legs and pressing herself down on Hermione’s tan thigh.
They rutted against each other, kissing and groaning, thrusting their hips and grinding down against each other. Even with the flimsy material of her knickers between them, Hermione felt her legs starting to shake as her need built higher and higher. She had never gotten off like this. She always needed touch. More than touch. It peeved Ron off sometimes how she needed to rub at her clit even with his cock deep inside of her.
But Cho, Merlin, Cho was making her whimper and shake with desire.
Hermione gasped as the hardness of the diamond pressed against her clit, rubbing against it and creating a slick friction she never felt before. She barely needed her fingers in her cunt. She imagined it to be Cho’s athletic broom thigh, but slowly even that faded away and her mind just thought about the diamond, the luxury.
She came hard, wiggling and rolling her hips against the air. She was glad she lived alone, but she was positive her neighbor through the wall heard her.
A beautiful blush crossed her features as she came down slowly. Even pressed up against her body, slick with her wetness, the diamond still felt cool against her. It wrapped her in whispers of belonging to someone.
Maybe it was magic.
But maybe it was just a hint at how tragically lonely she was.
Shit, she needed to get this diamond off her finger fast.
The diamond would not come off.
Hermione used just about every magical product imaginable and even asked George Weasley if he had any unstick products that could help. Whatever magic bonded it to her finger, it was powerful and Hermione had only one option. She was a fool for ever trying it on and she knew she would be scolded, if not horrible embarrassed and yelled at, for doing such a thing with a ring that was obviously not hers.
It was everything Hermione was dreading, but she owled the ring’s owner. She was vague in her letter, just mentioning needing to discuss in person an object Cannon brought to school.
The return owl was not from the ring’s owner, but her secretary.
Mrs. Parkinson-Nott will come by the school at 6.
That was much later than Hermione expected, but as she sent Cannon home with his nanny, she was a bit grateful that none of her students would be around to see her embarrass herself.
Hermione mostly busied herself with cleaning up the classroom, organizing the art supplies, alphabetizing the books, anything so that she didn’t drift off in her thoughts about Mrs. Parkinson-Nott.
Unfortunately, it was hard not to think about her former schoolmate and now gorgeous and extremely posh woman. So gorgeous and elegant that it was hard to address the woman as Pansy, even in her thoughts.
Hermione had only seen Mrs. Parkinson-Nott in person twice since the start of school. The first time was the first day of school when dropping off Cannon. She and Cannon arrived by a chauffeured black town car. Hermione learned later Floo made Cannon sick. Her former schoolmate got out of the car, bent down to Cannon’s level, and told him something that made him giggle. She fixed his uniform blazer and sent him on his way inside the classroom by himself.
When the two women made eye contact, the dark haired goddess did not move. She didn’t wave or nod her head. No, she just stood there, studying Hermione from head to toe, taking in every change of womanhood and most likely judging her lack of fashion.
The second time Hermione encountered Mrs. Parkinson-Nott was on parent-teacher conference night. Hermione sat across from Cannon's mother in complete silence for fifteen minutes until Mr. Nott arrived late and rushed. During the moments of silence, Hermione could feel dark eyes on her, once again studying her and picking away every difference from when they were teenagers. She had attempted small talk, but Mrs. Parkinson-Nott only gave one word responses from ruby-red lips.
Through the meeting, Mr. Nott spoke for both of them. He was annoyed at the curriculum, upset that Cannon was not in a more advanced class, and rather derogatory in all his responses to Hermione’s questions. Hermione wondered if it was some Pureblood thing where the husband was in control of all their son’s studies.
At six o’clock on the dot, the Floo turned green and Mrs. Parkinson-Nott stepped out in black six-inch heels, a fitting and very expensive looking tartan trouser and blazer suit, and her hair in it’s very drastic and intimidating black bob. Hermione felt disgustingly underdressed in her pink blouse and muggle jeans.
“You needed to see me?” Mrs. Parkinson-Nott said without a hello. Merlin, the woman was intimidating with every detail of her wardrobe in place. Not one wrinkle. Her ruby red lipstick was sharp and dangerous.
Hermione swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes, um, Cannon gave me something of yours that I wanted to discuss.”
“Then discuss,” she said, a smirk on her lips.
Hermione nervously walked over, twisting the ring on her finger hoping it would pop off before she had to reveal her idiocy. It still didn’t budge.
“Yesterday he proposed to me and, well,” Hermione sighed and stuck out her left hand, showing the ring stuck on her finger. She could feel the heat of embarrassment on her cheeks and travel down her body, engulfing her in pure shame.
“Ah, I’d been wondering where that got off to,” the elegant woman said, her tone laced with the tiniest bit of mirth.
“It’s stuck,” Hermione revealed. She wanted to die on the spot.
Mrs. Parkinson-Nott nodded, unsurprised. “Yes, I put a spell on it in case Theo’s newest flavour of the week thought to try it on.”
Hermione wet her lips. It made sense, seeing as the papers continually reported how Theo’s new girlfriend liked to spend his seemingly unlimited money.
“Only I can take it off,” she said, stepping up to Hermione and taking her hand. But instead of just removing the ring, Mrs. Parkinson-Nott folded back the three bare fingers on Hermione’s left hand and brought the fourth to her mouth.
Hermione’s eyes went wide as red lips encased her finger and slowly, tantalizing, seductively pulled back on the digit. Her dark eyes locked on Hermione’s daring her to turn away; she couldn’t.
Hermione’s breath caught in her throat and her thighs squeezed together, hard, as she wondered if she could come right then and there from just the warm of being in the other woman’s mouth. And the way her tongue traced along her skin. Merlin.
Mrs. Parkinson-Nott spit the ring out into her palm, her dark eyes never leaving Hermione’s.
“Thank you for returning this,” she said with a nod.
“Of course. And I’m sorry for being stupid enough to try it on, Mrs. Parkin—”
“Pansy. And don’t be sorry, Hermione, not for any of it,” she said with a smirk before leaving through the Floo.
Needless to say, Hermione spent the evening with her hand between her legs and Pansy’s name on her lips.
It had been a week since the ring incident when Cannon arrived to school with a gift for his favorite teacher.
It was a diamond necklace. And not just a chain with a diamond, but a necklace made entirely of very large and heavy diamonds.
It was exquisite. It was gorgeous. It was probably worth more than Hermione, Ron, and Harry’s entire vaults combined, including their war hero income.
Hermione knew better than to try it on.
During lunch, she owled Mrs. Parkin– Pansy’s secretary. This time, the return owl was from Pansy herself.
Did you put it on?
Hermione was glad she could truthfully answer no.
That was until the owl returned with a reply.
Put it on.
Hermione gulped and looked at the very beautiful necklace. She wondered if it was a test so that the Slytherin Queen could make fun of her when she revealed she needed help to get it off later.
She traced each diamond with the tip of her finger. The biggest of the diamonds sat in the center, almost as big as a Snitch. Hermione bit her lip. She knew better and yet she lifted the heavy necklace from its box and secured it around her neck. Instantly she felt magic click into place and knew she was helpless.
A second owl arrived, this one black as night and obviously belonging to Pansy.
Hermione took a shaky breath. She wasn’t sure what she just got herself into, but the wetness between her legs told her she was looking forward to finding out.
At exactly six, the Floo lit green and Pansy stepped through. Today she wore a tight leather pencil skirt with her tall heels. Her white blouse was just thin enough so that a black bra could be seen through the fabric. If there was a question if this was was on purpose, the top buttons were undone just enough to show the top of lace.
Hermione clenched her thighs together tightly.
Pansy walked over to her, each step deliberate and firm. Without a hello, she begun to undo the buttons of Hermione’s flannel shirt and pushed the fabric from her tan shoulders. Dark eyes consumed the freed skin juxtaposed by the sparkling jewels resting along her clavicle.
Pansy smirked at the white cotton bra Hermione wore. Before Hermione could protest, pale fingers were undoing the front clasp and releasing her breasts from their conservative underwear.
“Did you touch yourself wearing my ring?” Pansy finally spoke.
A red blush appeared on Hermione’s bare skin, blotchy and telling.
“I-uh. I–” she stuttered over her words. She had never been asked something so bluntly.
“You tasted like heaven,” Pansy cut her off. Hermione was pretty sure she was one large blushing blotch. “Did you come?”
Hermione could only nod. Pansy’s fingers were wandering idly over her nipples, tracing the outlines of her stretch marks and flicking across her nipples.
“Good girl,” Pansy hummed. Then her smirk turned wicked. “Though, you ought to be punished for touching without permission.”
Hermione swallowed hard, unsure if Pansy meant the ring or something else.
Pansy’s hands moved lower and undid the front of Hermione’s jeans. She pushed them down off her hips along with her light pink cotton knickers. She judged Hermione to step out of her shoes and the offending fabric, leaving her completely naked in the middle of her classroom wearing only Pasny’s diamonds.
Her body was on fire.
Pansy bit her lip in thought, walking around Hermione slowly, studying every part of her body, taking in every curve and soft roll. In the years since Hogwarts and being a teen, Hermione had grown into her body more. No longer was she the scared girl too anxious to eat and always flying high on adrenaline as she ran through Hogwarts. Now she was a woman with curves and softness, with the comforts of safety and getting to finally relax. She was confident in her new body, believing size was just a number and her health more important.
Pansy smiled approvingly as she came back to Hermione’s front and ran her fingers over Hermione’s tummy and thick thighs.
Her long slender fingers found their way between Hermione’s legs and Pansy dipped two into her hot center, her smile spreading into a grin.
“So wet for me,” she hummed. Her fingers thrusted into and out, fluttering softly to coax soft gasps and gentle whines from Hermione. She pushed her hips into the fingers, needing them deeper for her whines to grow into moans. Pansy made sure never to touch her clit and the lack of contact was sending Hermione into desperate pleas.
If this was a punishment, Hermione couldn’t imagine what a reward would be.
When Hermione’s legs began to shake and she crowd for more, Pansy removed her fingers quickly. Hermione’s entire body tensed as she gasped at the lack of contact, the sudden stop of her impending crest over the edge.
Now she understood her punishment.
“On your knees, gorgeous girl,” Pansy demanded with a cunning smile.
Hermione compiled without question. Pansy hiked up her skirt to around her hips to reveal a lack of knickers and her own wetness dripping down her thigh.
Leaning in, Hermione licked up Pansy’s pale thigh and found heaven between her legs. After savoring the first few licks into her folds, Hermione pressed her tongue deep into Pansy’s center.
Pansy’s hands buried themselves in Hermione’s curls; her perfectly manicured almond shaped nails scratched against Hermione’s scalp encouragingly.
“Who knew the swot was also a slut,” Pansy gasped through her pleasure. “You love eating cunt, don’t you?”
Usually Hermione never liked dirty talk. Most times, she found it almost comical, but something about the way Pansy spoke with such authority made her rub her thighs together and she was nodding in agreement. Yes, she loved eating out women and now with each passing lick, she was falling in deep love with Pansy’s cunt.
Pansy’s legs started to shake and her gasps were accompanied by swears and encouragement.
“That’s it beautiful, fuck .”
Just as she was coming to the edge, she tugged on Hermione’s hair hard and made her look up into her dark, lust driven eyes.
“Touch yourself, beautiful. I refuse to come without you,” she demanded.
Hermione nodded gratefully and plunged two fingers deep inside herself and rubbed her clit with her thumb. She gasped at the friction she had been yearning for and Pansy took the moment to grind down hard on Hermione’s face. Not missing her chance, Hermione sucked hard on Pansy’s clit, flicking it with her tongue and biting on it just enough to make the other woman cry out.
Hermione thrust her tongue deep into Pansy once more and Pansy rubbed her own clit. It was barely a minute before they were both coming, toppling over the edge in moans and curses.
As they came down together, Hermione had to lean her head against Pansy’s thigh as she caught her breath. Pansy softly played with her hair, running her nails soothingly on her scalp.
“I’ve always thought you were the most stunning girl in our Year,” Pansy whispered, her breath finally soft and even.
Hermione looked up in shock and found a genuine, soft, and sated smile on Pansy’s perfect ruby red lips.
“I had no idea. I didn’t even know you liked women,” Hermione said softly. She reached up and fixed Pansy’s skirt before rising to her feet. She had all but forgotten she was completely naked except for the diamond necklace around her throat.
“I didn’t either until Theo asked for a threesome,” Pansy said with a soft chuckle. She bent down and picked up Hermione’s knickers, holding them out for her to step into. Then she did the same with Hermione’s jeans. “Then we both kept fucking her without the other.”
“Oh,” Hermione said quietly with a nod. When Pansy held up her shirt, she let the other woman help her put it on as well. “How’d you know I…”
“Cannon. Kid can’t keep a secret to save his life,” Pansy snorted, starting to do the button’s up on the flannel. “Was home for two minutes before he was shouting we should date because you like girls too.”
Hermione felt her blush return. She should have known better than to tell her loudest student something so private.
“Obnoxious?” Pansy offered. She laughed when Hermione’s eyes bulged with shock from hearing her talk poorly about her own child. “Don’t get me wrong, I love him to death, but I can admit he makes Draco Malfoy look like a humble baby unicorn.”
Hermione broke out into laughter. Pansy watched her, smiling and studying. She suddenly leaned in and kissed Hermione for the first time, cupping her face and pulling her close. It was firm and attention grabbing, but there was a softness and a need that made Hermione melt into it.
“He was right though. I’d like to take you out on a date,” Pansy finally said when she pulled back just enough.
“Okay,” Hermione agreed bashfully in almost a whisper. She gulped and felt the weight of the necklace on her skin. “I should probably give this back…”
“No, it’s yours,” Pansy said in the stern tone that Hermione was used to.
“I couldn’t– It’s way too,” she started, stuttering over her words.
“How about…” Pansy said, stepping forward and whispering hotly in Hermione’s ear, “it’s yours while you’re mine.”