Embers and Avalanches

Hermione’s POV
--
A beat. A moan. A chill gone ignored. Heart beat, clit beat, shiver moist snow. Another beat. Another deep breath, concentrated on releasing her warmth all over my body. Another reminder of where I am in this white vast environment, secluded in a four-walled wooden madhouse filled with snow. White vast realm of ignorance, bliss, and pure viscous hatred and satisfaction with myself for giving in.

She shivers and shakes in between my legs, wondering... How did I forget about Hermione for so long? But the question stays for as long as it took for her to formulate it; she's too cold to care. Freezing, actually, but still confused.
Confused enough to the point where she has to eat away at her power in the form of my womanhood to forget. Forget the why, the how, and just focus on now. The future without me is too bleak.

It's all we can do to stay warm. It's all we can do to stay calm and forget about the world we're trapped in. No one can save her except for me. No one can save me, though. I'm long gone, but she still follows me, looking for me. That's all I need.

She's killing me; her icy glares in between frost-bitten bites and blizzard-bliss smiles. Her icicle tongue and frozen water breath melting inside of me. Her igloo of a mouth, evaporating with the help of me coming for her warmth...
My resources, she sucks from me. But the pleasure makes me soar high above this snow-filled cabin. The euphoria she gives me makes up for how trapped we are, and how hopeless I am about escaping this situation. Not her; again, just the situation.

Fleur has been stalking me all my life, and she doesn't even know it.
When did it start.. Ah, yes. When my parents decided to take me skiing over the winter holidays in France. This was a week ago.
Now Fleur and I are trapped in this cabin alone. It's night.
Blizzards and avalanches are dangerous, but at least we have each other..

--
A week and seven years ago when I first learned why my mother smiled so much was when I created the problem. The problem of sleepless dreams and incessant hatred of a lack of opportunities.

The problem of a faceless beauty constantly in my dreams.

When I was younger, seven years younger, I woke from a nightmare in the early hours of the morning. I was drenched everywhere, and I didn't understand why I was soaked with a strange clear substance when I gathered the courage to check what it was. All I remembered was exactly this –

A dark room, two women on top of each other. Every time I heard their slow heart beats, I'd see a black and white glimpse of them. Their sex. Voyeur dreams. I was not in it. I wanted to be in it. I could only see pearly white skin in a moonlit room for a heart beat of a second. I could only hear their shallow breaths for that amount of time.

I remember squirming in my sleep. My hand automatically shot down inside to try to feel it myself, but it never worked. All I did was wake up with frustration at my hand being so wet and no one around to help me. To want me.
The want, the hatred of my want; it turned into an obsession. I wanted to see, feel, experience it myself. Even if it was just in my dream. I was determined.
I got up and quietly walked to my parents' room. I stopped and heard it again as I reached my destination. The want. My obsession. The sounds. I wanted them to come from my mouth with someone else helping me.

The door was ajar. Just enough for me to peek inside and not be seen. Just enough to see my father ramming into my mother. I heard clapping, slapping, sloshing and creaking. I heard hissing, groaning, moaning and whining.
I grew...jealous. But for some reason, I didn't want to be in my mother's position, pun intended. But I wanted the pleasure.

Just not the ramming and slamming of a man.

--

Nights turned into weeks and months and years where I would have that same dream. It eventually grew more clear for me, more colorful; one of the women now had a sheet of silvery-blonde hair that shimmered in the heart beat moonlight.
The other one had a good deal of wavy brown hair that offset the blonde. It made the blonde seem more...vast. Beautiful. Just more of everything.
Her eyes went from silver to crystalline blue. Her skin went from just white to pearly white. Snow white.

The others' eyes turned brown, not just coal black. Her skin was a light copper tone. The filth that inevitably had to fill the snow was my skin.
The filth of my stupid desires. But the snow white woman would always clean herself after letting me get them all out. Spread my lust and want and obsession all over her vast expanse, and let the blizzard of her satisfaction blow it all away in the power of her climaxes..

Rinse in the rain, dry in the sunlight, and repeat in the snow.

--

Soon, the dreams spoke to me. She spoke to me. She told me to do things to her.
Lick her, suck her, rip her here. Kiss her, slap her, fuck her there.
Say you want me, she'd whisper lovingly. Seductively. Persuasively. I fell for it every time.

Want me. Want my everything. Let me be...your liberator.

I went from the one with all the answers to the submissive little girl I thought I grew out of whenever I slept. I started to wake up in that same dream, with her frozen hands on me, begging me to warm her up. Begging me to let her cool me down.

I was hot with rage and passion. Boiling with hatred and desire. Even though we were always even in our giving and taking in my dreams, I wanted to be the one taking more.

That same dislike I had of my father's authority over my mother's pleasure made me feel this way. The same reason why I kept dreaming of a woman and not a man with me created this inherent need for control.

Control of one who could snatch it and relinquish it freely as if nothing was wrong.

She was my queen. My nameless, aggressive, submissive, snow white queen. It was fun to me; having authority over the authority. An anarchist.

She and I have an anarchy in my dreams. It just wasn't until I found her that I realized how very very lost I was.

--

She and I were alone atop a mountain, ready to start the skii down. I looked at her, expecting to see my mother or father, but instead I saw her. She saw me, gave me a confused and angry look. As if I was violating her. As if she never did anything wrong.

My parents brought me to the woman I created in my dreams. My parents built the foundation for my desires. My desires were ensnared by her body, her cravings, her sex. But she had no idea; she just went down the mountain after turning her nose at me for glaring at a stranger.

I went after her. I followed her.

I couldn't escape her, even though I made the conscious decision to go after the object of my confusion. The twisted way she loved me in my dreams made me want that authority over the real thing. I felt her in my dreams and I never slept; I wanted to feel her on my body and sleep with her.

The incessant power she had over me made me stay on her trail. The way she looked back at me with a bit of fear spurred a drive inside of me. I felt it spread to every inch of my body, flowing through my veins and staying with the intention of never leaving. My nerves, my hesitations, my fears...I shot them at her instead with my glares. I thrust them at her with my hot breaths and mangled snarls at her to stop.

I won her over soon; she stopped just yards away from that cabin. She turned to face me, with that uncertain glare on her snow white face. I stood a distance away from my sleepless dream, wanting everything from her.

"What do you want?"

There was no passion behind her voice, but it still sounded oh so familiar. The throaty lust was not choking her voice, making it float out and gloss over my ear in the form of a pant. A groan. A moan.

I wished it would. I wished she knew what she did to me. But she was just...standing there. My rational side told me that she probably wouldn't let me. But I wanted her to see that she was just like me; a confused girl, just trying to find answers. I was torn.. I was losing my mind. No...I lost it the moment I saw her.

But she just stood there and stared as my world divided in front of her..
I couldn't take it anymore; she was too accessible. Everything I wanted from her shook inside of me and exploded with my voice..

"ALL I WANT IS YOU!"

I heaved and advanced, but she was backing away. With fear. And not from me. Not exactly.

The ground shook; snow began to fall too quickly. She floated along to the cabin for safety, and I followed her. Or she dragged me with her..

No...she really did. She went to me and pulled me along to the cabin..

--

That was hours ago. It wasn't until nightfall that she realized she couldn't ignore me anymore; she couldn't ignore my warmth anymore. We were trapped inside. Snow had gotten in from the window and blanketed the floor. She had nowhere to run, and realized how much she wanted me. We had nowhere to run, so we decided to just get it over with.

We undressed in the dark; my dreams resurfaced. With every heart beat, I realized how much closer I was to my dreams. Her. I was awake in my dream, and this time she was really there. I wasn't asleep. I couldn't escape the twisted way she wanted me; because I couldn't control my want of her. That was why she wanted me.

She saw the fury and passion in my eyes, and longed to melt it all away for my pleasure. I burned my clothes off and she cooled down my skin where the trails of masturbation branded me with shame. My voice scarred my throat for years from moaning out to no one in my dreams, and she gently soothed my aches and let my shallow breaths cool me down.

At the same time, I felt myself boiling with disgust and guilt, but she made it all congeal and settle lovingly into a form of a cool build-up that my orgasms melted away. I couldn't take it anymore; I decided to switch it around and burn my mark on her instead..

But my just desserts for doing this made me forget about all of that...

She called my name...

How did she know my name? Why was that blizzard-bliss smile on her face? And why were her icy eyes also smiling at me, knowingly?

My confusion made my explorations for answers more intense. I kept sucking away her coldness and replaced it with my hot befuddlement. I made her rock against me and moan, constantly coming with her thick, vague answers. She laughed and gasped and hissed my quest for domination and answers so softly that I shivered..

"I 'ave dreamed of you for...so long.. It wasn't...until now that...I remembered. You are just like me, non..?"

I kept going, wanting more answers... We were both warm from each other, but she still needed to keep melting in my mouth. Melt away her defiance and make her remember all of those nights that she dreamed of me. Rip away at her womanhood and make her moan away every solid inch of forgetfulness and let them drip in my mouth..

"'Ermione.. You do not remember me.. Do you..? Last...year. You saw me...and I saw you.. But you just...glared at me."

Last year was when my dreams grew colorful. Last year was when I began to imagine her hair and her face and her body instead of just some random stranger. And it was last year that I began to turn myself into the other woman..

"You never 'ad a face...until I found one.. On you. Last year...when you glared at me. Outside...in ze snowy courtyard. I felt...guilty. I was...dreaming while awake.. And you were the one...I saw...to fill the face."

"...you're...Fleur?"

"Mmm...oui."

She had the same problem as I did.. The same thing happened to her that happened to me; we saw each other and chose to fill the faceless women in our dreams with each other..

The authority over the authority was gone. I felt...at her mercy. Even though it felt so good, I wasn't supposed to like it. I remembered that night I saw my parents..

"So let me enjoy zis...as much as I can..."

The things she asked of me made me irritated with white hot fury. Her words in my dreams haunted me...but she didn't even know me. I hardly knew her.

She belonged to me; not the other way around. I teased her and pleased her at the same time. She screamed and creamed and dreamed with me as I let everything build and build once more. I moaned and groaned and roamed in the dark with her, for her to cool me down. She did it every time. Every single time...just right.
Her nails glazed my body with a cool coat of my sex after she fingered me.

I felt her cool breaths evaporate in the warmth of my sex, pushing me past the edge with the prospect of doing the same to her keeping me from falling. I flew high, over her snowy fields, taking in the desire with every sharp breath and moan that she made me let out..

When she led me back down, my legs shook from the soft impact as I spread her open. Shoot fire into her cold sex this time. Breathe embers of frustration and satisfaction of her being the woman in my dreams, and finally having her. She let out cool vapors of approval for me as we melted all of the snow in the room with our passions alone. I felt her viscous ice water seep down my throat while my tongue kept burning into her for more..

I wasn't sure if I could save her from this situation, but I saved her from frustration. I wasn't sure if we'd ever get out of this, but I knew I didn't want to get out of her. She didn't want to get out of me. Out of each other. It was tormenting, but it was still so comforting. She was here with me, I was here with her..

Her passionate cries and constant releases filled me up for days. My moans and also constant releases soothed her hungry body and parched throat. We didn't care about escaping; we were trapped within each other more than anything. There was nowhere to run and nothing to look forward to past escape of each other. This situation. We were trapped in a wet dream with no hope, or desires, of leaving.

She reigned over my desires and I emblazoned her beauty and body to keep me coming for more.. and more...until neither of us could come anymore.