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A smirk. A flash. And then silence.
Hermione was dead.
How could this have happened?
Why her?
That devastatingly smug smile of Pansy Parkinson grew as the realization of her success took hold. Without pressing her luck further, Pansy turned and darted the other way, her laughter echoing down the corridor.
“I got Granger… I got Granger.”
When the echo finally faded, Harry turned toward a stunned Hermione.
“Don't tell me… .” Harry breathed out, still caught by surprise.
“Mione?” Ron asked slowly, reaching out for Hermione, who had stopped breathing altogether now.
Hermione’s gaze flickered from the empty spot where Pansy had been standing, to Harry, then Ron and back again.
It had only taken a smirk, a wand raised and a streak of blue light hitting her square in the chest… to end her life.
Well, figuratively speaking.
Her life was over.
Literally over!
The “True Lover’s Kiss” Jinx.
Devastating. Horrifying. Utterly humiliating.
Why it had been given that ridiculous name, Hermione had no idea. A few months ago, a Slytherin had discovered the spell and ever since then, students had been jinxing each other left and right. Hermione had done some researched and had ended up both horrified and dismayed to find out, that the only way to lift it, was through a kiss from the person you “loved”.
The word “loved” was defined rather loosely. A simple crush would usually be enough to break the jinx.
Hermione’s problem? Her so called crush had long ago turned into something far more complicated.
And even worse, the fact that she had fallen for the one person in the entire school who would probably rather chew on a razor blade and swallow it, than kiss her.
The loud laugh next to her snapped her out of her spiraling thoughts. Ginny was nearly toppling over with laughter, pointing her finger at Hermione.
Now, even Harry had the audacity to smile- though, wisely he didn’t laugh aloud.
Ron’s face had gone scarlet, an awkward smile forming as he opened his mouth to speak.
“Don't you dare!” Hermione mouthed furiously, pointing a threatening finger at him, noticing too late that no sound left her lips.
“I don’t get it.” Ginny groaned, stretching out on the large couch, jabbing her toes into Hermione’s thigh. “Why don’t you just kiss him?”
Hermione swatted her foot away, frowning, eyes narrowing in confusion.
“Ron.” Ginny clarified, clearly annoyed that Hermione was still playing the ‘I don’t know what you are talking about’ game. “Just kiss him and get it over with. Its not like we haven't caught on.”
Taken a back, Hermione blinked. Scandalized, she snatched up a quill and parchment, scribbling furiously before thrusting the sheet at Ginny.
“It’s not Ron.”
Ginny read it, then let out a long, dramatic sigh. “Hermione, its fine. For whatever it’s worth, I think he likes you too.”
Hermione ignored the last part, jabbing at the parchment again for emphasis, desperately trying to reiterate that her crush is not Ron.
Ginny’s grin spread slowly as she sat up cross-legged, leaning in. “Alright then, Mione. If it isn't Ron, then who is it? Who has Hermione Granger all twisted up inside?”
Hermione’s cheeks flushed crimson. She couldn’t tell Ginny. She couldn’t tell anyone.
Instead of answering, she pressed the parchment to her chest, sinking into the couch cushions with a loud groan, her face scrunching up in mortified pain.
She’d just have to get used to it. Even if that meant never speaking again. There were worse things than losing her voice. She could manage.
And manage, Hermione did.
Two days had passed and to her surprise, she found a strange solace in the silence. Her productivity soared- nobody interrupted her in the library, nobody asked endless questions, nobody even tried to bother her when she was working.
Her time in the library had turned almost peaceful. As long as she ignored the constant kissy-faces and snide comments from her classmates, it wasn't so bad. She even took to carrying normal pens instead of quills. Less messy, less ink-stained parchment. The few curious looks she earned for it were well worth the convenience.
She was sitting in the Great Hall, eating dinner with Harry, Neville and Ginny when Ron came skidding to a halt in front of her, completely out of breath.
“Okay, I know you said you don’t want to talk about it… .” Ron began awkwardly, leaning in. “But… Cormac’s planning to ask you for a kiss later. Tell me its not him.”
Hermione’s eyes widened in shock. Ginny immediately dissolved into giggles next to her.
„Cormac?“ Hermione mouthed in horror, quickly grabbing a napkin, but before she was able to write something down, Ron barreled on.
“Yes. After dinner tomorrow, he wants to corner you. So, is it him?” Ron asked, still breathless.
Hermione quickly scribbled ‘No!’ down on her napkin, holding it up for him to read.
“Thank Merlin.” Ron sighed, sliding onto the bench opposite her. “N-Not that I’d mind- its just… he’s a complete git!”
Neville tilted his head, surprised. “Wait. Are you really not just going to kiss whoever it is? I’m sure they’d help you out.”
Hermione scoffed, earning curious looks, then released a long breath, turning the napkin around to write: "Can’t".
“Oh… .” Neville murmured, then his eyes lit up with an idea. “Wait- is it Krum? I know you went to Yule last year. He doesn’t go here anymore, so you couldn’t… .”
Before he could finish his sentence, Hermione shoved her napkin in his face.
“No!”
Before sighing and burying her face in her hands.
A day later, just as Ron had warned, Cormac cornered Hermione after dinner on her way back to the library, trying to offer his “services”. She had a rough time convincing him he wasn't the one.
But his rejection seemed to open the floodgates. Suddenly, it seemed like everyone had just been waited for someone to make the first move. Boy after boy began approaching her with offers of a kiss. Some seemed sincere, some were clearly just curious, but all of them were volunteering their lips like it was some heroic act.
Hermione fled to a secluded corner in the library, seeking refuge among the History shelves.
She was quietly working on her Arithmancy homework, when a loud thud broke her peace. Hermione jumped, her stomach flipping as a heavy book slammed onto the table. The squeak of a chair being pulled back followed and Madam Pince’s hawk-like glare snapped toward them.
Opposite her sat none other than Bellatrix Black. The Slytherin self-proclaimed queen. Trouble wrapped in dark curls and sharper smiles.
Hermione froze, caught between bolting and staring. Why here? Why her? Hermione couldn’t help it. She stared. Surely Bellatrix hadn't even noticed who she’d chosen to sit with. Bellatrix Black sharing a table with a Muggleborn? Impossible.
The Slytherin’s focus was solely directed at the book in her hand. “Stop staring, Granger.” Bellatrix hissed without looking up. Her tone was cool, dismissive -yet Hermione swore there was a curl of amusement at the corner of her lips.
The fact that Bellatrix knew her name made Hermione’s stomach flip. Stupid, of course she knew- they shared classes. Still, it made Hermione’s throat tighten.
“Granger… .” Bellatrix voice was silky, menacingly calm. “Keep staring and I’ll start charging tuition.”
Hermione’s face flamed scarlet. She mouthed a mortified ‘sorry’ and bent back over her homework, pen shaking slightly in her hand, unable to focus.
A low laugh drew Hermione gaze back up again. Bellatrix’s dark eyes gleamed with wicked amusement.
“Wait.” Bellatrix said, lips curling. “You’re the one, aren't you?”
Hermione stared back, suddenly feeling like a cornered animal. She raised both her eyebrows at the Slytherin in question.
“You’re the one that got jinxed.” Bellatrix clarified, before laughing again, carelessly tossing her book aside, like she had found something much more interesting to entertain herself with.
Hermione’s cheeks flushed. The fact that she had somehow caused this laugh, the rich, unrestrained kind, almost made up for her embarrassment. She shrugged and quickly focused her attention back on her homework.
“How long has it been?” Bellatrix leaned forward, chin propped in her hands, studying her like a curiosity in a jar.
Hermione snatched a blank scrap of parchment and scribbled down her answer.
“3 days and counting.”
Bellatrix arched a brow, almost impressed. “I think you should just get it over with.” Bellatrix said unhelpful. “No sense in giving them an advantage on you.”
Hermione squinted at her, before quickly writing down her reply.
“Them?” Hermione wrote back, eyes narrowing. “You mean YOUR Slytherin goons who jinxed me?”
“My goons?” Bellatrix laughed, not missing the accusatory glare. She folded her arms, biting her lip- and Hermione’s gaze caught helplessly on the motion.
“I didn’t make them do anything.”
Bellatrix was being coy. Hermione shook her head in disbelief. Hermione was sure she had never exchanged this many words with the Slytherin before. Her head was swimming, she felt utterly out of her element.
“They’d do anything just for your acknowledgment.” Hermione wrote back sharply.
“That so?” Bellatrix asked, tilting her head conspiratorially. “And why, pray tell, would I tell anyone to jinx some mudblood?”
Hermione froze. The word hit like a slap. She hated it, hated the way Bellatrix savored it. But Bellatrix smirk dared her to respond.
Hermione finally scribbled, “You tell me.”
For a heartbeat, Bellatrix eyes narrowed. Then she smiled slowly. “If I wanted you jinxed, Granger, I wouldn't need Parkinson to do it.”
Her voice was smooth. Too practiced. And she was watching Hermione’s reaction far too closely.
Hermione’s chest tightened, her pen hovering over the parchment, not finding the right words.
“Maybe Pansy got a crush.” Bellatrix added almost lazily.
This time it was Hermione that chuckled silently. She rolled her eyes, then, before she knew it, her hand moved again.
“Have you ever been jinxed with it?”
Bellatrix pursed her lips, then shook her head. “No one would dare!” She leaned closer, eyes gleaming. “I’d make sure they’d never survive long enough to regret it.”
Hermione scoffed, scribbling. “Why? Your crush can’t be that embarrassing?”
Bellatrix leaned back, smirking. “Says the girl who’s been mute for... what was it, three days and counting? Either you’re enjoying this, or you’re mad.”
“Yeah, well...” Hermione mouthed, before she flipped the parchment to a fresh page.
“Honestly, I don’t think I’d survive it.”
That earned her Bellatrix full attention. She leaned in, elbows in the table, chin resting in her hands, studying Hermione like she was unraveling a puzzle. So far she had gotten more out of her than anybody else.
“Oh, it cant be that bad. Unless… Salazar help me! Is it a teacher?”
Hermione’s scandalized expression was answer enough.
“Please. Not Snape.” Bellatrix teased, laughing at Hermione’s look of horror. “You’d have no chance there.”
Indignantly, Hermione balled up her parchment and hurled it at Bellatrix.
Bellatrix clutched her chest in mock injury. “Ow.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. Who knew how annoying the queen of Slytherin could really be. Exhausted she slumped back in her chair and mouthed: “Not a teacher.”
Bellatrix inclined her head slightly. “Then who terrifies you so much you’d rather suffer in silence.”
Hermione’s heart pounded. She should have written something clever. Something dismissive. Instead, her hand stalled.
Bellatrix’s gaze lingered, heavy, knowing. “I’m sure Weaselbee already knows. Or is it Potter?” Lost in her thoughts for a moment, Bellatrix went on. “Poor Ronny’s itty-bitty heart would break… .”
Hermione slammed another note onto the table.
“Why does everyone think it’s Ron?”
Bellatrix’s smug smile widened and delighted laughter spilled out. Low and throaty, it echoed in the vaulted silence until Madam Pince hissed from across the room.
“Well…. Isn't it?” Bellatrix prodded.
Their eyes met. For a breathless second, the entire library seemed to narrow to just the two of them- the Slytherin queen with her dangerous curiosity and the Gryffindor girl who couldn’t find her voice.
Hermione’s reply came reluctantly, her shaky handwriting betraying her nerves. “Don't you think, I’d not have gotten rid of it by now if it was?”
This silenced Bellatrix for once. Hermione squinted at her. Why would Bellatrix Black even care who she liked. Why urge her to get it over with? Why linger at all?.
“Why do you even care?” Hermione finally wrote down, hesitantly holding up the parchment for Bellatrix to read.
“I don’t.” Bellatrix said with an easy shrug. “You just entertain me. Besides, sooner or later, you’ll have to give in. Its only a kiss.”
Hermione stared at her, caught.
“I’m managing just fine.” Hermione scribbled back.
„Its just a kiss Granger. Its not like you’d have to stick around afterwards.“
Hermione didn't know what possessed her, she stared at Bellatrix. This time she noticed the Slytherin's smirk falter just slightly. After another moment, Hermione’s grip tightened on the pen as she wrote, then slid the parchment across with shaking hands.
“Why? You offering?”
For a heartbeat, Bellatrix froze. The words seemed to stun Bellatrix, but then a loud laugh ripped out of her.
“You wish, Granger. You wish.” She waved Hermione off, still laughing.
Hermione leaned back in her chair, looking down at the table. One hard, undeniable truth sank in: she did wish. Bellatrix was the only one able to save her from this. At least the jinx had brought one good thing. She had never spent this much time with Bellatrix before. But on the other hand, the butterflies in her stomach made her feel almost sick.
A full week had passed now and Hermione was beyond exhausted.
She would have thought that by now peoples interest would have shifted, but she couldn’t have been more wrong. By now, the “True Lover’s kiss” jinx had become the castles favorite gossip. Whispers trailed Hermione wherever she went.
Everyone had an opinion. Everyone thought they knew who she was supposed to kiss. Bets were being made amongst the Gryffindor crowd- and Hermione was sure the other houses as well.
-
“Just snog Ron already.” Seamus said cheerfully over breakfast. “Do us all a favor and get it over with.”
“Unless… look Hermione. If you are embarrassed, I don’t mind.” Seasmus tried again, cheeks pink as he gestured awkwardly at his own mouth. “A quick peck, nothing fancy. Just y’know... problem solved.”
Dean elbowed him, grinning. “If she’d rather kiss me, I wont complain.”
Hermione’s face was bright red, as she wrote in capital letters. “ABSOLUTELY NOT.”
-
Parvati and Lavender cornered her outside Charms.
“You poor thing.” Lavender cooed, reaching out as though Hermione might shatter.
“If its Harry you’re so shy about, no one will judge you. He’s practically everyone’s first crush.” Parvati supplied helpful.
Hermione pressed her lips together so tightly they hurt.
-
“Oh, Merlin! Is it Draco?” Ginny blurted out, after rattling through at least twenty names. “You know… I’d kind of understand… .”
The pillow that had landed square in Ginnys face had ended that conversation.
-
Even Neville, sweet, kind Neville shuffled up to her in the library, fidgeting with his hands.
“I just thought… maybe if you needed someone safe, I could help.”
Her heart ached. She scribbled quickly, “That’s kind, Neville, but no.”
He nodded, embarrassed but also a little relieved, before he helpfully added. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, Hermione. Loads of people like Harry. It’s.. normal.”
Hermione wanted to scream.
She couldn’t believe how nobody believed her when she told them, that it wasn't Ron. It wasn't Harry. It wasn't even anyone they could safely imagine. But every time her quill hovered over parchment, her courage failed.
That morning in the Great Hall, she caught sight of Bellatrix across the Slytherin table, dark curls spilling over her shoulders as she leaned in to hear something Pansy whispered. Bellatrix’s laughter rang sharp and careless, her eyes flicking lazily over the room. The casual sweep of her gaze slid past Hermione- or maybe through her and Hermione stomach clenched.
Because how could she possibly admit it?
Admit, that her heart tripped not at the sight of her red-haired best friend, or at Harry, the Chosen One who had won the Triwizard Tournament-
But at the dangerous smirk of a girl who embodied everything Hermione should hate.
Two weeks. Hermione had made it two whole weeks before she was summoned to Professor McGonagall’s office.
Fretting over what McGongall could possibly want to discuss, Hermione sat nervously opposite her Head of House, feeling sick to her stomach. Had she done something wrong? Forgotten an assignment? Oh, she hoped it wasn't about her grades- she hadn't been able to participate as much in class with her predicament.
The stern lines of her Professor’s face were drawn even tighter than usual.
“Well, Miss Granger.” McGonagall began, folding her hands atop the desk. “I’m sure you can guess why I have called you into my office.”
The furious shake of Hermione’s head made the Professor release a long sigh.
“Usually I don’t make a habit of concerning myself with the private life of my students, but… .” Hermione’s face instantly flushed red, eyes widening as she realized where this conversation was headed.
“But as much as I respect your decision not to… act on your feelings, so to speak. I feel it necessary to inform you that your schoolwork may suffer as a result.” Seeing the horrified expression on Hermione face she quickly continued. “I have noticed a remarkable improvement on your non-verbal spellwork, which can surely be attributed to you current situation. Still, I think it is only fair to inform you of this.”
Hermione quickly fumbled for a scrap of parchment she now carried everywhere, pen poised- but before she could write anything down, McGonagall continued.
“And this has gone on long enough, don’t you think? Two weeks without speech is no small matter. Your wellbeing is suffering. I must insist that you resolve this.”
“I just need 3 more weeks!” Hermione scribbled furiously, holding the parchment up for her Professor to see.
“Three more weeks?” Her Professor repeated confused. “That is still an awful long time, Miss Granger.”
“Madam Pomfrey is working on a potion. I just need a little more time.” Hermione wrote down.
“I am aware of that.” McGonagall admitted, with the faintest frown. “Though it is not certain it will fix your predicament. To this day, there is only one known cure.” Professor McGonagall explained, shifting awkwardly and scratching the back of her neck. “I’m sure the young man will understand. This is no way to life the rest of your life.”
Hermione sat up straighter, clutching her parchment.
“Not rest of my life! Just until I find someone else!” Hermione wrote, horrified by the very idea.
“Miss. Granger,” McGonagall said gravely. “I beg you to reconsider. And who knows? Perhaps you will discover you’re not the only one who feels that way.”
Hermione’s hand shook as she wrote. “Impossible!”
For the first time, McGonagalls’s sternness softened. Her voice gentled, almost maternal. “Miss Granger… surely it cannot be so impossible.”
Hermione’s throat ached. She wanted to scream that it was impossible. That the person who held her silence hostage was the very last person she could ever admit to wanting. That she would rather endure weeks, months, than confess the truth.
But no words came. Only parchment and shaking hands and a Professor’s worried eyes.
Hermione burrowed her face inside her hands, shacking her head. This was not going to happen. Not even if a teacher told her to. She was trapped in her own personal hell.
“Very well.” McGonagall said at last, clearly unconvinced. “But Hermione, please. Don't be to quick to dismiss this person. Sometimes our hearts may surprise us.”
Seventeen days. Hermione had been mute now for seventeen days. She could hardly even remember what it was like to hear her voice. By now, she had gotten used to carrying parchment and pens everywhere.
What surprised her most, was how many people had offered to kiss her. Even Harry, Ron- and a few girls. She was sure none of them meant it romantically, they just wanted to end her suffering, worried she was just too frightened to ask them herself.
But none the less, all of it was just too exhausting. Hermione needed some peace and quiet, gathering supplies for a long, hot bath in the Prefects’ bathroom, when Ginny suddenly burst into her dorm.
“Merlin. I think I know.” Ginny declared, breathless, as though she had solved some great mystery.
Hermione straightened, frowning in confusion, but before she could reach out for her parchment, Ginny crossed the room and pressed her lips firmly against Hermione’s.
It took Hermione a stunned second to register what was happening. Then she pushed Ginny back with a gentle but firm hand, eyes wide in question.
“What are you doing?” Hermione mouthed in shock.
Ginny’s eyes widened too, then she broke into laughter. “Oh, thank Merlin! I thought it was me!”
Hermione blinked at her, scandalized.
“Oh, you know. Not that it would be an issue or anything.” Ginny quickly added, still grinning. “You’re nice and pretty and all, but… .”
Hermione rolled her eyes, brushing past her in exasperation.
She had had enough of everyone’s idiocy. All she wanted was a hot bath to drown out the noise, the whispers and the endless speculation.
Steam curled around the glowing lamps of the prefect’s bathroom, the enchanted bubbles shimmering in the flickering light. Hermione sank deeper into the water, exhaustion pressing heavy against her. Seventeen days without a voice, without release, without relief.
This felt like her first true reprieve since the incident. Her first moment of peace. Even Myrtle hadn't come to bother her.
Just as her eyes drifted close and Hermione released a sigh, a velvet drawl cut through the quiet.
“Enjoying your little soak, Granger?”
Immediately, Hermione stiffened, her eyes flying open.
Bellatrix Black stood silhouetted against the tiled wall, leaning casually with her arms crossed- an insufferable smirk tugging at her mouth.
Hermione quickly scrambled for cover, dragging more bubbles toward herself with a glare, ready to defend her privacy with a scowl.
“What are you… .” Hermione mouthed, releasing a frustrated breath, when she realized she had forgotten her parchment.
“Don’t worry, Granger. You don’t need words.” Bellatrix mumbled, her eyes roaming over Hermione’s obscured form. “In fact, it might be better if you cant speak.”
Hermione blinked, her heart pounding. There was something about the intensity in Bellatrix’s gaze that rooted her in place. She couldn’t tell if she should be scared or something far more dangerous.
“Its been Seventeen bloody days, Granger! This is getting ridiculous!” Bellatrix snapped, the annoyance in her voice startling. “Seventeen days! Half the school has lined up to offer you their lips and still you wont give in. I wonder... why is that?”
Hermione swallowed hard. Her throat burned with words she couldn’t say.
Then after a moment, Bellatrix pushed off the wall, making her way closer. Hermione was lost, She quickly moved closer toward the edge, making sure her body was hidden from Bellatrix view, unsure where Bella was going with this.
Bellatrix stopped right in front of her and then crouched down, her dark mysterious eyes never leaving Hermione’s.
“Do you know how maddening this is?” Bellatrix asked, voice lower now, intimate. She reached out, trailing her fingers lazily through the water. “Watching you… Waiting for you to finally do something?”
Hermione’s breath caught and her chest tightened. Her eyes widened and Bella’s smirk softened- not gone, never gone, but gentler.
Suddenly realization dawned on her. Hermione gaped. Was Bellatrix proposing what she thought? Hermione should have shaken her head, but she didn’t move. She couldn’t.
Bellatrix fingers brushed her jaw, tilting her face up. For once, there was no laughter in her eyes. Only sharp certainty. Dark, hungry and all consuming.
Bellatrix leaned closer, she was so close now that their faces nearly touched. The heat from the water mingled with the sudden closeness of Bellatrix and Hermione felt a dizzying thrill. Every nerve seemed alert, every heartbeat a countdown, until the moment couldn’t be delayed any longer.
“I don’t want to wait anymore.” Bellatrix stated in a whisper, almost like a confession. She looked away for a second, releasing a long desperate breath before she looked back at Hermione.
“I need to know.” Bellatrix whispered, before she finally closed the distance.
And then her lips were on Hermione’s.
The spell shattered instantly.
Hermione gasped against Bellatrix mouth, the sound raw and shocking after weeks of silence. A shiver went through her as her voice returned in a rush, but she barely noticed- too caught up in the dizzying fact that Bellatrix Black was kissing her, and she was kissing her back.
Bellatrix pulled away almost instantly, smirk sliding back into place, eyes glinting with mischief and triumph. She tilted her head, as if daring Hermione to deny it.
“Its me then?” Bellatrix pressed after an excruciatingly long moment.
Hermione rolled her eyes, gripping Bellatrix by the collar of her shirt, pulling her closer again.
“Its you.” Hermione confirmed, before she captured the Slytherin’s lips in a soft kiss once more.
Bellatrix broke away just long enough to smirk wider, triumphant, like there had never been any doubt. “Of course it is. I suppose it does pay off to have goons.”
Hermione froze, her eyes widening. The realization hit- Pansy! Pansy had only been a pawn in Bella’s game. This whole ordeal had been orchestrated by that infuriating, teasing Slytherin in front of her all along.
“You!” Hermione breathed out, disbelieve sharpening her tone. “The spell- you’re the Slytherin who ‘discovered’ it, aren't you?”
That infuriating smirk only deepened. Bellatrix seemed wickedly pleased with herself.
“Salazar, I sacrifice myself to give you your voice back and that’s how you thank me? With accusations? Honestly Granger, gratitude doesn’t seem to be your strong suit.”
Hermione’s patience snapped. She was utterly done with the Slytherin's smugness and without missing a beat she yanked on the collar, causing Bellatrix to tip over, crashing face-first into the bath.
The splash echoed loudly. And only a second later, Bellatrix resurfaced, dripping wet and glowering murderously at the Gryffindor.
“You might be right” Bellatrix threatened, voice low and dangerous. “You might not survive this.”
Then she bared her teeth in a grin. “Though if drowning me is your idea of foreplay… .”
Her threat fell on deaf ears as Hermione wrapped her arms around her, dragging her back into another kiss, swallowing the words before they could take form.
The next morning the Great Hall buzzed with morning chatter as Hermione strolled in, sliding into her usual seat beside Harry with a radiant grin.
“Morning! Ron, could you pass the toast?” Hermione said cheerfully, causing every head to snap toward her.
The entire table froze.
“Wait! You’re talking!” Ron asked surprised.
“No! Who was it?” Ginny gasped, eyes wide.
Hermione only smirked, reaching for her toast, as her gaze flicked- ever so casually toward the Slytherin table. Dark, amused eyes met hers.
“I don’t kiss and tell.” she said smoothly, taking a deliberate bite.