Day 9 - Siren

Day 9 - Siren

The castle was quiet in the dead of night, the corridors empty and the grounds still as Hermione Granger slipped out of the warmth of Gryffindor tower. The haunting melody that drifted through the open window pulling her from the safety of her bed. At first, she had ignored it, dismissing the sound as part of some dream, but it persisted, floating in on the cool night air like a distant whisper. It was soft, delicate, but there was something unnervingly captivating about it, something that tugged at her insides in a way that made her feel as though the song was calling to her—beckoning her.

She had tried to shake it off, to convince herself that it was nothing more than her imagination running wild after a long day of studying. But no matter how hard she tried, the melody seeped into her mind, filling every corner until she couldn't ignore it anymore.

And so, against her better judgment, Hermione had wrapped herself in her robe, slid on her shoes, and slipped out of the common room, following the song that had drawn her in like a moth to a flame. She found herself moving without really thinking, her feet carrying her toward the source of the sound as if guided by some unseen force. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever heard, the soft, haunting notes weaving through the night, pulling her closer and closer to the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat as she approached the castle's entrance, the song was stronger now, clearer, and with each step she took, it grew more intense, more captivating. Hermione's heart raced, her body trembling as she moved toward the edge of the woods, her mind swirling with questions she couldn't answer. Why was she so drawn to this sound? What—or who—was calling to her?

She reached the tree line, her breath coming in shallow gasps as the darkness of the forest loomed before her. The song was louder here, wrapping around her like a spell, and though every rational part of her mind screamed at her to turn back, to go back to the safety of the castle, Hermione couldn't stop. She couldn't resist.

The melody was calling her.

Her feet carried her forward as she moved through the trees, the song growing louder, more intense, filling her mind until it was all she could hear. And then, through the trees, she saw her.

A figure stood at the edge of a small clearing, illuminated by the soft glow of the moonlight. She was beautiful—stunningly so. Her long, dark hair cascaded down her back in loose waves, her pale skin glowing in the dim light. But it was her eyes—dark, piercing, and filled with an unnatural, captivating intensity—that held Hermione's attention, drawing her in even further.

The woman's lips were parted, the haunting melody pouring from her like a spell, soft and seductive, wrapping around Hermione's senses and clouding her mind. Every step Hermione took brought her closer to the woman, closer to the source of the song, and the closer she got, the harder it was to think, to breathe.

The woman smiled—a slow, dangerous curve of her lips—as she watched Hermione approach, her eyes gleaming with a dark, predatory hunger. She didn't stop singing, didn't stop the soft, seductive melody that had ensnared Hermione so completely, but her gaze never wavered, locking onto Hermione with an intensity that made her heart race.

She wasn't human. That much was clear.

There was something otherworldly about her, something dangerous and ancient that made Hermione's skin prickle with both fear and... something else. Something she didn't want to name. The woman—this creature—was beautiful, yes, but there was a darkness in her eyes, a dangerous allure that made Hermione's heart race.

And then, the woman's voice changed. The melody softened, growing quieter, more intimate, as though she were speaking directly to Hermione through the song. The words, though foreign and strange, seemed to sink into Hermione's mind, wrapping around her thoughts like a vice.

"Come to me, little witch," the woman sang softly, her voice sweet and dangerous as she stepped closer, her dark eyes gleaming with hunger. "You're mine now."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat, her body trembling as the words washed over her, filling her mind with an overwhelming sense of... belonging. She couldn't explain it, couldn't understand why, but there was something about the woman's voice, something about the way she looked at her, that made Hermione feel as though she had been waiting for this moment her entire life.

"Who... who are you?" Hermione whispered, her voice shaky as she took a small step forward, unable to stop herself from moving closer to the woman.

The woman smiled again, her eyes dark and unreadable as she reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against Hermione's cheek. The touch was soft, almost gentle, but there was a possessiveness in the way her fingers lingered on Hermione's skin, as though she were claiming her.

"My name is Bellatrix," the woman purred, her voice low and seductive as she stepped even closer, her body mere inches from Hermione's. "And you, little witch, are mine."

Hermione's heart raced, her body trembling as Bellatrix's words sank into her mind, wrapping around her like a spell. There was something hypnotic about her, something that made it impossible to look away, impossible to think of anything but the woman standing before her.

"You've felt it, haven't you?" Bellatrix whispered, her voice soft but commanding as she cupped Hermione's face in her hand, tilting her head up so that their eyes met. "The pull. The call. It's been inside you for years, waiting for this moment."

Hermione's breath came in shallow gasps, her mind spinning as she stared up at Bellatrix, unable to tear her gaze away. The pull—yes, she had felt it. She had felt it from the moment she heard the song, from the moment she stepped out of the castle, and now, standing here in front of this woman—this creature—she couldn't deny it.

"I..." Hermione began, her voice trailing off as Bellatrix's thumb brushed over her lips, silencing her.

"Shh," Bellatrix whispered, her voice soft but firm. "Don't fight it. You belong to me now."

Hermione's mind was a blur, her body trembling as the weight of Bellatrix's words sank in. She knew she should be afraid, knew she should be running back to the safety of the castle, but instead, all she could feel was the overwhelming need to be close to this woman, to give in to the pull that had brought her here.

And then, before she could say another word, Bellatrix leaned in, her lips brushing softly against Hermione's, the kiss sweet but possessive, sending a shiver down Hermione's spine. The sensation was electric, a jolt of something dangerous and alluring that made Hermione's body tremble beneath Bellatrix's touch.

Her mind screamed at her to pull away, to remember the rules and rationality she had built her life upon, but her body—the part of her that had followed the melody through the dark forest—leaned in, succumbing to the pull of something deeper. The kiss deepened, Bellatrix's lips pressing more firmly against Hermione's, demanding and filled with an intensity that made Hermione's heart race. Bellatrix's hand slid up, her fingers threading into Hermione's hair, gripping just tightly enough to make her gasp as Bellatrix tilted her head back, forcing their eyes to meet. Her gaze was dark, possessive, and something in the way she looked at Hermione made her feel as though she had been claimed long before this moment. Like she had belonged to Bellatrix for years, maybe even centuries. Perhaps that was why the others hadn't felt right. She had only been kissed twice once by Ron and once by the Bulgarian heartthrob Victor Krum. This felt different.

"I've been waiting for you, little witch," Bellatrix purred, her voice low and filled with dark satisfaction as she ran her thumb along Hermione's lower lip. "For longer than you could possibly imagine."

Hermione's breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest as she stared up at Bellatrix, her mind spinning with confusion and desire. "What... what do you mean?" she whispered, her voice shaky as she tried to make sense of the pull she felt toward this woman—this creature who claimed to have been waiting for her.

Bellatrix's smile widened, her dark eyes gleaming with a possessive hunger as she stepped closer, her body pressing Hermione's back against the rough bark of a nearby tree. "Since the founding of Hogwarts," she whispered, her voice like silk as she traced her fingers down Hermione's cheek, her touch soft but commanding. "I have waited for a witch like you. One who would hear my song, one who wouldn't run from it... one who would find it lovely instead of like the cawing of mad birds."

Hermione's breath came in shallow gasps, her mind spinning as Bellatrix's words sank in. Since the founding of Hogwarts? The very idea was absurd, impossible even, and yet—there was something about the way Bellatrix said it that made Hermione's skin prickle with both fear and... something else. Something deeper. Something primal.

"I don't understand," Hermione whispered, her voice trembling as she stared up at Bellatrix, unable to tear her gaze away from those dark, piercing eyes. "Why me?"

Bellatrix's smile was dangerous, her hand sliding down to rest against Hermione's throat, her fingers tracing the delicate line of her neck with a possessive touch. "You've felt it, haven't you?" Bellatrix purred, her voice soft but commanding as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against Hermione's ear. "The pull. The connection. You were destined to be mine, Hermione. My mate. The moment you heard my song, you became mine."

Hermione's heart raced, she had heard stories of magical creatures taking human mates—soul-bound connections that transcended time and space, pulling two beings together in a way that couldn't be explained. But those were just stories. Myths.

Weren't they?

"I..." Hermione began, her voice faltering as Bellatrix's thumb brushed lightly over her pulse, her touch both gentle and possessive. "I don't understand."

Bellatrix's dark eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she leaned in, her lips brushing against Hermione's neck, the soft touch sending a jolt of heat through Hermione's body. "You don't need to understand, love," Bellatrix whispered, her voice low and filled with a hunger that made Hermione's pulse quicken. "All you need to do is submit. Give in to what's already inside you."

Hermione's breath came in ragged bursts, her body trembling as Bellatrix's lips moved along her neck, kissing and nipping at her skin with a possessive hunger that made Hermione's head spin. There was something intoxicating about the way Bellatrix touched her, the way her hands seemed to claim every inch of her skin as if she had the right to it. As if Hermione had been hers all along.

"You've felt it, haven't you?" Bellatrix purred, her voice soft but commanding as she pressed her body against Hermione's, trapping her against the tree. "That pull. That need to be near me, to follow my voice. You couldn't resist it, could you?"

Hermione's breath hitched, her mind swirling with confusion and desire as Bellatrix's words washed over her. She had felt it—the pull, the inexplicable need to follow the melody that had drawn her from the safety of the castle and into the dark forest. It had been impossible to ignore, impossible to resist.

But why?

Before Hermione could untangle her thoughts, Bellatrix's hands moved with a possessive grace, sliding over her waist and pulling her closer. Her fingers were smooth and commanding as they traced the curves of Hermione's body, as if memorizing every inch of her with a reverence that made Hermione's skin tingle.

"I've waited so long for this," Bellatrix whispered, her voice low, vibrating with hunger as her lips brushed against Hermione's ear. "So long to worship what's mine."

Hermione's breath hitched, her pulse racing as Bellatrix's words sent a shiver down her spine. The intensity in Bellatrix's eyes, the dark gleam of possessive hunger, left Hermione trembling beneath her touch. It was overwhelming, terrifying, and yet, Hermione didn't want it to stop. There was something about the way Bellatrix touched her, as though she was more than just a witch, as though she was something precious—something destined.

Bellatrix's fingers slid higher, cupping Hermione's breasts through her clothes, her touch firm and deliberate as she squeezed gently, sending a jolt of heat through Hermione's core. Hermione gasped, her back arching slightly as the sensation took her by surprise, but Bellatrix's grip only tightened, holding her in place.

"You're perfect," Bellatrix purred, her voice filled with dark satisfaction as her fingers brushed over Hermione's nipples, teasing them through the thin fabric of her shirt. "Every inch of you was made for me."

Hermione's breath came in shallow gasps, her body trembling as Bellatrix's hands continued their exploration, sliding down to her waist before slipping beneath the hem of her shirt. The cool night air brushed against her skin as Bellatrix's fingers found bare flesh, and Hermione's heart skipped a beat as she felt the sharp contrast between the cold air and the heat of Bellatrix's touch.

"You've never known anything like this, have you?" Bellatrix whispered, her voice dark and knowing as she slid Hermione's shirt up, revealing more of her skin to the cool night air. "Never known what it's like to be claimed."

Hermione's mind was spinning, her thoughts a chaotic mess of fear, desire, and confusion. She should be afraid. She was afraid. But the fear was wrapped in something else, something deeper. There was a primal need building inside her, a desire to be touched, to be claimed in the way Bellatrix promised. It terrified her, but it thrilled her even more.

Bellatrix's fingers were everywhere now, sliding up Hermione's sides, teasing the curve of her breasts before slipping lower, tracing the line of her waist with a slow, deliberate touch. Hermione's breath hitched as Bellatrix's hands slipped under the waistband of her trousers, her fingers brushing against the soft skin of her hips.

"You feel that?" Bellatrix purred, her lips brushing against Hermione's neck as she whispered into her ear. "That's the bond between us. The pull you've been fighting for so long. You don't have to fight anymore, Hermione. Just give in."

Hermione gasped as Bellatrix's fingers slid lower, tracing the line of her panties before dipping beneath them. Her breath came in shallow bursts, her body trembling as Bellatrix's touch grew more intimate, her fingers exploring the heat between Hermione's thighs with a possessive hunger that made Hermione's knees weak.

Bellatrix's fingers were firm and commanding as they slipped between Hermione's folds, finding her wet and ready. Hermione's breath caught in her throat as the sensation hit her, a wave of heat crashing through her body as Bellatrix's fingers brushed against her clit with slow, deliberate strokes.

"Do you see?" Bellatrix whispered, her voice dark and filled with satisfaction as her fingers continued their relentless teasing. "This is what you've been waiting for. This is what you've always needed."

Hermione's mind was a blur, her body trembling as Bellatrix's fingers moved with practiced precision, stroking her clit with a firm, steady rhythm that left her gasping for breath. The intensity of it was overwhelming, the pleasure building higher and higher with every touch, but Bellatrix wasn't letting her reach the peak—not yet.

"I'm going to worship every inch of you," Bellatrix whispered, her voice thick with desire as her fingers dipped lower, sliding inside Hermione with a smooth, confident motion that left Hermione gasping. "I'm going to make you feel things you never thought possible."

Hermione's body jerked, her nails digging into the bark of the tree behind her as Bellatrix's fingers thrust deeper, her movements slow but deliberate, each stroke designed to build the pleasure higher, to make Hermione tremble beneath her touch.

Bellatrix's free hand slid up Hermione's body, cupping her breast and squeezing gently as her fingers continued their relentless rhythm, pumping in and out of Hermione with a slow, deliberate pace that left Hermione trembling with need. Hermione's breath came in shallow, ragged bursts, her body responding to Bellatrix's every touch, every whisper, as if she had been waiting her entire life for this moment.

"You feel it, don't you, my little princess?" Bellatrix purred, her voice soft and dangerous as she squeezed Hermione's breast, her thumb brushing teasingly over Hermione's hardened nipple. "You feel the connection between us. You were always meant to be mine."

Hermione's body quivered, her breath hitching as Bellatrix's words wrapped around her, sinking deep into her mind, filling her with an overwhelming need to be claimed, to be taken by this beautiful, dangerous creature. The sensation of Bellatrix's fingers inside her, moving with a steady, deliberate pace, sent wave after wave of pleasure crashing through her, but it was Bellatrix's voice—low and possessive—that made Hermione's head spin.

"You'll be my princess," Bellatrix whispered, her lips brushing against Hermione's ear as her fingers thrust deeper, her movements smooth and confident. "We'll lead the others together. I'll be their queen, and you—" Bellatrix's fingers twisted inside Hermione, hitting a spot that made Hermione's entire body tremble. "You'll be by my side, ruling over them."

Hermione's breath hitched, her mind spinning as the weight of Bellatrix's words settled over her. Her princess? Bellatrix's queen? The idea sent a shiver down her spine, a heady mix of fear and desire swirling inside her as Bellatrix's fingers continued their relentless rhythm, thrusting in and out of her with a confidence that left Hermione gasping for breath.

"I'm going to make you feel so good, little princess," Bellatrix whispered, her voice dark and filled with satisfaction as her thumb brushed against Hermione's clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through her trembling body. "I'm going to make you come, and you'll see—you'll see how perfect we are together."

Hermione's mind was a blur, her body trembling as Bellatrix's words washed over her. She could feel it—the connection between them, the pull that had drawn her to this place, to this woman, and now that she was here, now that Bellatrix was touching her, Hermione couldn't imagine wanting anything else.

Bellatrix's fingers moved faster now, thrusting deeper, harder, as her other hand squeezed Hermione's breast, her thumb brushing over Hermione's nipple in time with the thrusts. The pleasure was overwhelming, building higher and higher with every touch, every word, until it was all Hermione could feel, all she could think about.

"That's it, love," Bellatrix purred, her voice filled with dark amusement as Hermione's breath came in short, desperate gasps. "Let go. Give in to it. You've never felt anything like this before, have you?"

Hermione's breath hitched, her body trembling violently as the pleasure built higher and higher, her muscles tensing as she fought to hold on, fought to control the overwhelming sensations flooding her senses. But it was too much—too intense, too powerful.

"No," Hermione gasped, her voice trembling as Bellatrix's fingers thrust harder, her thumb circling Hermione's clit with an agonizing precision that left Hermione breathless. "I—"

Bellatrix's dark laughter filled the night air as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against Hermione's ear. "I know, love," she whispered, her voice a low, dangerous purr. "You've never come before, have you?"

Hermione's entire body quaked, her breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts as Bellatrix's words sank in, sending a rush of heat through her body. It was true. She had never come before—not like this, not with this intensity, this overwhelming need that made her entire body tremble.

"You're mine, little princess," Bellatrix whispered, her voice filled with dark satisfaction as her fingers thrust deeper, her thumb brushing against Hermione's clit with practiced precision. "And tonight, I'm going to show you what it means to belong to me."

Hermione's breath came in short, desperate gasps, her mind spinning as the pleasure built to an unbearable degree. She could feel it—the edge of release just within reach, the knot of pleasure tightening inside her, ready to snap. Bellatrix's touch was relentless, her fingers driving deeper, harder, as she pushed Hermione closer and closer to the brink.

"You're going to come for me," Bellatrix purred, her voice filled with dark amusement as her fingers twisted inside her, sending shockwaves of pleasure through Hermione's trembling body. "And when you do, you'll know—you'll know you're mine."

Hermione's body arched off the tree, her nails digging into the bark as the pleasure built higher and higher, her muscles clenching around Bellatrix's fingers as she felt herself slipping over the edge. It was too much—the sensation of Bellatrix's fingers inside her, the possessive way she touched her, the overwhelming need to be claimed—it was all too much.

And then, with one final thrust of Bellatrix's fingers, Hermione's world shattered.

A sharp cry tore from Hermione's throat as the orgasm ripped through her, her body convulsing beneath Bellatrix's touch, her muscles clenching tight around Bellatrix's fingers as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before—intense, overwhelming, all-consuming.

Bellatrix's fingers slowed, her movements becoming gentle as she rode out the waves of Hermione's release, her thumb brushing lightly over Hermione's clit as the last tremors of her orgasm shook her body. Hermione's breath came in shallow, ragged gasps, her body trembling violently as the intensity of the pleasure left her weak, her legs shaking as she leaned heavily against the tree for support.

"See, love?" Bellatrix whispered, her voice soft and filled with dark satisfaction as she leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Hermione's lips. "I told you I would make you feel good."

Hermione's breath was still ragged, her body trembling in the aftermath of the overwhelming pleasure Bellatrix had given her. Her mind was foggy, trying to process what had just happened, how she had been so completely taken over, so fully claimed. She could barely think, the intensity of her release still leaving her breathless, but Bellatrix wasn't done. Not yet.

"I've shown you what I can do, what I can make you feel," Bellatrix whispered, her lips brushing softly against Hermione's ear as her fingers continued to trail possessively over Hermione's body. "But there's more, my little princess."

Hermione's heart skipped a beat at the word—princess—and something inside her stirred, a strange, primal response to the way Bellatrix said it, as though it was already a title she held. But before she could gather her thoughts, Bellatrix's hand cupped her cheek, tilting her head so their eyes met once more.

"I still need to claim you," Bellatrix murmured, her dark eyes gleaming with hunger as she traced her thumb over Hermione's lips. "Fully. In front of my people."

Hermione's breath hitched, her mind snapping back to attention at Bellatrix's words. "Your people?" she whispered, confusion lacing her voice as she stared up at Bellatrix. "What are you talking about?"

Bellatrix's smile widened, her eyes gleaming with dark amusement as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against Hermione's in a teasing kiss. "Do not worry, love," she purred, her voice low and soothing, as though speaking to a child. "I will make you feel just as good as I did here. But this time, you'll make me feel good too, little princess."

Hermione's breath came in short gasps, her mind spinning with Bellatrix's words. She had felt powerless under the weight of Bellatrix's touch, her body completely consumed by the pleasure Bellatrix had given her. But something about the way Bellatrix spoke now, about claiming her in front of her people, sent a ripple of fear through Hermione's chest.

"I... I can't leave Hogwarts," Hermione stammered, her voice trembling as she tried to pull away, tried to think clearly through the fog of desire still clouding her mind. "I have my studies, my friends—"

Bellatrix's laugh was low and dark, sending a shiver down Hermione's spine. "Your studies, little princess?" Bellatrix mocked, her voice dripping with amusement as she cupped Hermione's chin, forcing their eyes to meet once more. "You think your studies matter? My people are older than wizards. Older than the little games they play with their magic."

Hermione's heart raced, her body trembling as Bellatrix's words sank in. Older than wizards? It didn't make sense. Nothing about this night made sense. And yet, standing here in the darkness of the Forbidden Forest, with Bellatrix's possessive gaze locked onto hers, Hermione couldn't deny the strange, ancient power she felt radiating from her.

Bellatrix's smile widened, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against Hermione's ear. "You are mine now, princess," she whispered, her voice soft but commanding. "You were always meant to be mine. You belong with me, with my people."

Hermione's breath hitched, her mind spinning with the weight of Bellatrix's words. Mine. The word echoed in her mind, sending a shiver down her spine. But no matter how much she wanted to resist, no matter how much she wanted to argue, there was something about Bellatrix's voice, something about the way she said it, that made it impossible for Hermione to fight back.

"I can't," Hermione whispered, her voice shaky as she tried to gather her thoughts, tried to push away the overwhelming pull she felt toward Bellatrix. "I can't leave. I have a life here—"

Bellatrix's laughter echoed through the dark forest, sharp and wicked as she tightened her grip on Hermione's chin, pulling her closer. "Your life?" Bellatrix purred, her voice filled with dark amusement. "Your life belongs to me now, Hermione. You belong to me."

Before Hermione could respond, before she could muster any further protest, Bellatrix's voice changed. The tone shifted—low, sweet, melodic—and suddenly, Hermione's entire body froze, her mind going blank as the strange, hypnotic quality of Bellatrix's siren voice filled her senses.

"You will do as I say," Bellatrix whispered, her voice soft and soothing, the hypnotic pull of her words sinking deep into Hermione's mind, wrapping around her thoughts like a vice. "You want to do as I say."

Hermione's breath came in shallow gasps, her body trembling as Bellatrix's words washed over her, sinking into her mind, making it impossible to think, impossible to fight back. The rational part of her brain screamed at her to resist, to push back against the strange magic wrapping itself around her, but it was no use. She couldn't. Bellatrix's voice was too strong, too compelling.

"You will come with me," Bellatrix whispered, her lips brushing softly against Hermione's ear as her fingers tightened their grip on Hermione's chin. "You will stand by my side, and I will make you feel good, little princess. So good."

Hermione's body shivered, her mind spinning as Bellatrix's voice filled every corner of her thoughts, making it impossible to think of anything else. She could feel the pull growing stronger, the need to submit, to obey, building inside her with every word Bellatrix spoke.

"You want to make me feel good, don't you?" Bellatrix purred, her voice soft and dangerous as her fingers brushed against Hermione's lips. "You want to be my princess. My perfect little mate."

Hermione's breath hitched, her heart racing as Bellatrix's words wrapped around her, pulling her deeper and deeper into the spell. She couldn't resist. She didn't want to resist. All she wanted was to be close to Bellatrix, to feel her touch again, to make her feel as good as she had made Hermione feel.

"Yes," Hermione whispered, her voice shaky as she looked up at Bellatrix, her eyes wide with a strange mixture of fear and longing. "I... I want to make you feel good."

Bellatrix's smile widened, her dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Hermione's lips. "Good girl," she purred, her voice low and filled with dark amusement. "I knew you would come around."

Hermione's breath came in shallow gasps, her body trembling as Bellatrix's lips moved against hers, soft but possessive, claiming her once more. There was no escaping this—no escaping her. Hermione was bound to Bellatrix now, bound by a pull she couldn't explain, couldn't resist.

And she didn't want to.

Bellatrix's hand slid down Hermione's body, her touch possessive and commanding as she cupped Hermione's breast, squeezing gently. "You're mine, little princess," she whispered against Hermione's lips, her voice soft but filled with dark satisfaction. "And soon, everyone will know it."

Hermione's breath hitched, her mind spinning with the weight of Bellatrix's words. She should be afraid. She was afraid. But the fear was wrapped in something else, something deeper—something she couldn't deny.

"I'll take you to them," Bellatrix whispered, her voice soft and soothing as her fingers traced the curve of Hermione's breast, sending shivers of pleasure down her spine. "My people. They will see you, see how perfect you are, and they will bow to their new princess."

Hermione's body trembled, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts as Bellatrix's words filled her mind, making it impossible to think, impossible to fight back. She couldn't resist. She didn't want to resist.

"Don't worry, love," Bellatrix purred, her voice filled with dark amusement as she pressed her body against Hermione's, pinning her against the tree. "I will make you feel just as good in front of them as I did here. And you'll make me feel good too, little princess. So good."

Hermione's breath hitched, her body trembling as the weight of Bellatrix's words settled over her. The pull was too strong, too overwhelming to resist. Bellatrix's voice wrapped around her like a spell, sinking deep into her mind, making it impossible to think of anything but the need to be close to her, to obey her.

"I..." Hermione began, her voice trembling as she looked up at Bellatrix, her heart racing. "I can't—"

But the words caught in her throat as Bellatrix's hand slipped lower, teasing the sensitive skin of Hermione's waist as she leaned in, her lips brushing against Hermione's neck. "Shh, love," Bellatrix whispered, her voice soft and soothing as she kissed Hermione's neck, sending shivers of pleasure through her body. "You don't need to think. Just follow me."