Impassioned Delights
"...you again," Harrie muttered, struggling against the ropes binding her wrists together. She had been ambushed almost half an hour from sun down. The trickling of light and her lazy afternoon with her friend Hermione lowering her guard.
It wasn't uncommon for demons to attack in packs, but the situation she had found herself in earlier had been unexpected. There had been at least 20 demons in the dank alley. How they had all managed to fit was still a mystery to Harrie.
But that hardly mattered, not when she had literally had her rear handed to her. And she was dragged away from the familiar street and down several archways and alleys that Harrie had little time to make sense of.
The fact that she was forced to kneel in front of the boss was definitely not what she had planned for her evening.
"Yes, me," the voice purred, and Harrie felt the hairs at the back of her neck stand on end. The tone was sultry and warm. It made something twist in her gut, and Harrie struggled more valiantly against the ropes digging into her back.
"How lovely it is to see you, Sister Potter. You're looking well," the demoness purred before stepping out from the shadows, her inhuman features and shapely body glowing beneath the moonlight above their heads. Her red eyes glowed brightly despite the shadows, her thin lips and gaunt cheeks making her look particularly gruesome.
"Can't say I feel the same," Harrie spat, staring angrily into dark red eyes that brightened at the offense.
Creep.
"...I'm hurt. I had thought we were on much better terms."
Harrie bared her teeth at the woman, narrowing her eyes in irritation. The woman was bloody insane if she believed nearly skewering her with a knife would make Harrie particularly happy to see her.
"You thought wrong. Now let me go! We had an agreement." Harrie shifted her body to ease the discomfort on her knees, her habit a poor barrier for the concrete digging harshly into her knees.
"Oh, sweet, virtuous Harrie. You should know better than to make a deal with a demon," Voldemort mocked, before closing the space between them. Harrie craned her neck to not miss a single expression on the woman's face, and glared at the small smirk that broke across Voldemort’s normally inexpressive face.
"A deal is a deal!" Harrie sputtered, flinching when the woman suddenly kneeled in front of her and brought a cold hand up to Harrie's cheek. The touch was unwelcome, but Harrie was frozen entirely when Voldemort's eyes seemed to gleam more brightly, the crimson blending with flecks of burgundy and brown Harrie had never noticed in the demoness’s eyes before.
"Mmm, and I am not breaking our terms. You never said that I could not play with you," the woman hissed, and Harrie's mouth parted when the woman's fingers glided from her cheek to tease at her bottom lip with a cold finger.
Harrie swallowed, the sound loud in the heavy silence that had fallen over them.
Crap, Harrie thought.
"Don't touch me you f--"
"Now now, no need to be rude. I'll be gentle, just this once," Voldemort teased, and then the woman's hand was threading into Harrie's wild curls and pulling her head in. The pressure was so tight that Harrie could not fight it, and Harrie gasped when Voldemort's lips pressed against her own.
Harrie's mind reeled, noting the way Voldemort's forked tongue licked the seam of her mouth, the touch surprisingly hot.
Voldemort kissed her as if she were desperate for air, her mouth devouring Harrie's own mouth like a hungry predator. Teeth bit harshly onto Harrie's lip, and the woman's grip on Harrie's head became tighter, seemingly emboldened when Harrie did not fight. Harrie's brain had ceased functioning, her shock keeping her rooted in place.
Because surely, Voldemort did not just kiss her. It was unthinkable. It was absurd, but there was no mistaking the hot mouth against her own or the teeth digging into her bottom lip.
It was just after Voldemort's tongue had slipped inside her mouth that Harrie thought to bite down, her mind sparking into wakefulness.
Voldemort hissed before wrenching her head away, her lips a bright red. Harrie spat the blood that had pooled in her mouth, and glowered at the woman; a flush coloring her cheeks a vivid pink.
"Do that again and I’ll bite your tongue off," Harrie threatened, ignoring the way Voldemort's tongue poked out from her lips and lapped at the blood staining the corner of her mouth before smiling mischievously.
Harrie shifted nervously at the strange gleam that had settled over the woman's eyes.
"We shall see."