Kristmas Wish Fulfilled for: la_dissonanceFrom: ragdollTitle:
A Cup of Christmas CheerCharacters/Pairings:
Bill Weasley/Nymphadora Tonks/Charlie Weasley, Penelope Clearwater/Kingsley Shacklebolt, George Weasley/Angelina Johnson/Fred WeasleyRating:
rimming, threesomes, anal intercourse, frottage, food smut, voyeurism, exhibitionismOther Warnings:
sex while under the influence of a potion, siblings in the same sexual situation (but not true incest)Word Count:
Debauchery abounds at Kingsley's holiday party for the Order of the Phoenix, and for once, the Weasley twins aren't to blame. At least not completely.Author's Notes:
OMG, mystery prompter, I saw this one and had to have it. Initially, I planned on giving you one pairing and one pairing only, but everyone you requested insisted on being in on the action, and who am I to argue with the likes of them?
I hope I managed to give the ladies in question sufficient anal loving for your tastes. I'm sorry I couldn't accommodate your request for felching – I tried, but it just didn't happen.
This fic takes place sometime during a slightly altered version of Harry's Sixth Year, during Half-Blood Prince
, then veers off into its own insane 'verse.
My undying gratitude to the ever patient, ever supportive R, without whom… and the usual suspects for their cheerleading and general help. And thanks to the daily_deviant
mods for letting me turn this in so ridiculously late.
"Happy Christmas, Kingsley," said George as Fred extended the bottle of Beaumont's Brilliant and Best Brandy to their host. Kingsley had invited all Order members to his exclusive holiday candlelight supper, an invitation neither Fred nor George could have turned down.
Kingsley quirked an eyebrow, then accepted the brandy from Fred. He began to examine it thoroughly, even taking out his wand and tapping the wax seal as if to verify it hadn't been tampered with. "Thank you," he rumbled, although he still seemed sceptical of the bottle and its contents.
"It's for the eggnog," Fred explained. "Assuming you're serving eggnog at your 'do tonight. If not, well, we'd be happy to make it for you. No Christmas party should be without it, you know."
"That would be unthinkable," George chimed in.
"Is this some sort of parlour trick, like those cans of Muggle nuts you sell in your shop?" Kingsley asked. "Open up the bottle and snakes will come flying out? Or something worse?"
"Do you honestly think we would do that to you
of all people?" Fred responded, looking miffed at the mere suggestion that they might be trying to pull something over on their host. "You could turn us into newts at the first hint of trouble. Who would want to risk that?"
"Not me!" added George. "It's just a simple bottle of brandy, mate. We wanted everyone to partake in some Christmas cheer is all."
"Honest!" both twins insisted in tandem.
Kingsley gave them a pointed look, and then, still clutching the brandy, lead them into his parlour. "Your timing is impeccable, boys. As it happens, I've just made a batch of eggnog." He cocked his head in the direction of the sideboard; a large punchbowl full of the drink sat there. "All it needs is the liquor. Am I to believe that if I open this bottle, there won't be a large explosion—?"
"Of course not!" Fred exclaimed.
"And that none of my guests will be turned into chickens—?"
George shook his head vigorously. "We would never do that to anyone we liked," he glanced over at the sofa where Bill and Charlie sat, flanking Nymphadora Tonks, "Or even our own brothers!"
"Cheers," Charlie muttered from across the room. Bill raised two fingers in their direction, while Tonks stayed unusually quiet.
"Our Mum would murder us if we tried it!" said Fred. "Especially at Christmas."
Kingsley broke into their protestation. "Or some other bizarre side effect that I cannot think of at the moment?"
"No. We swear," they said, flashing Kingsley the most innocent and charming smiles in their repertoire.
This time, George nodded in assent. "Look, Kingsley, if you don't trust us, we'll even drink from that bottle, that sealed
bottle, first. Just to prove it's as safe as houses before you put it in the eggnog or serve it to anyone else. If it's poisoned, hexed or otherwise unsafe, you'll know right away."
"But it's not." Fred clapped Kingsley on the back amiably. "There's nothing harmful in it at all."
Snorting, Kingsley opened the bottle, then Summoned two glasses. He poured two fingers worth for each of the twins, then handed them their drinks. "Go ahead, then. Drink it down, boys."
"Cheers!" Fred and George happily complied. It wasn't as if there was anything dangerous in the brandy, after all. George and his twin had been experimenting with a potion that mimicked the effects of a Cheering Charm, but with longer-lasting results. It didn't have a name yet; he and Fred had debated for hours over what to call their new product, but nothing clever had come. As it wouldn't be ready for public consumption for quite some time, it didn't really matter. So, for the moment, the elixir was being referred to by the code name "Christmas Cheer".
The potion had passed the initial rounds of testing and was now in the fine tuning phase. Which meant test subjects were required. Past subjects, however, had exhibited what Muggles called "the placebo effect" so it was difficult to tell whether the elixir was doing what it was supposed to. Blind testing was in order. And honestly, who needed to be cheered up more right now, in the middle of the war, than members of the Order?
George polished off the brandy, wiping his lips with the back of his hand before handing the glass back to his host with a smile. "Ta, mate."
Kingsley seemed to be sufficiently convinced that the brandy was safe; he studied Fred and George's faces carefully, then with a nod, walked a few paces to the punch bowl, then poured a large quantity into it. He stirred it, then ladled a portion into a cut crystal cup, sipping lightly. "Anyone else care for a cup?" *
This was not Charlie's idea of a good time. He much would have preferred to spend the evening in a pub, surrounded by his mates, discussing the latest Quidditch results, playing a few rounds of Wizarding Darts, drinking heavily, and pulling pretty girls. He hadn't really wanted to come home for the holidays at all, but he'd needed to check in with Dumbledore about his progress in recruiting foreign wizards for the Order's cause, and he couldn't be in England without checking in with his family.
It also would have been exceedingly rude to turn down Kingsley's invitation tonight. Charlie had considered it; he and Bill had made plans to go out and do blokey things, which had the added benefit of keeping them away from their mother. She'd been driving Bill mad about his choice in girlfriends, which had driven Charlie mad since he'd had to hear complaints from both parties. As if he could stop his brother from shagging a Veela or
stop his mother from nagging Bill about it.
So, he'd come here, reluctantly, for drinks and nibbles. At least Shacklebolt was a decent cook; the hor d'oeurves
had been good, particularly the vol au vents
and the miniature pâté en croûte
. The company so far had been pleasant enough: Shacklebolt, Penelope Clearwater (who Charlie vaguely remembered as a girlfriend of his estranged brother, Percy), Bill, Fred, George and the Twins' friend, Angelina Johnson. And, of course, his old mate, Nymphadora.
Charlie had actually been happy to hear Tonks was attending the party, at least until he'd seen her. She'd looked so awful that he barely recognized her when he'd first laid eyes on her. The thin, wan, mousy haired waif that sat sullenly between Bill and himself in Kingsley's parlour bore little resemblance to the vivacious girl who used to meet him in empty classrooms for a snog and a grope – if not more – back in their seventh year. Their relationship had evolved into an unspoken agreement to be friends-with-benefits whenever Charlie was in town, or Tonks had a break from Auror training.
He knew the war had been hard on her. She'd taken the death of her cousin, Sirius, very badly from what he'd been told, and nearly died herself while fighting Death Eaters at the Ministry last summer. Still, he hadn't been prepared to see her like this. Even his usual teasing hadn't seemed to lighten Tonks' solemn mood.
"Want some eggnog?" Charlie asked her, giving her a gentle nudge with his shoulder. "I'll fetch you some."
"S'pose," Tonks sighed.
"Buck up, Dora," he continued. "It's the holidays. You're supposed to be happy—"
Snorting, Tonks pulled a face. "Says who? Your mum? My
mum? There's no law that says I've got to be."
"It's easy to be miserable around him
," Bill interjected, jerking a thumb at Charlie, "but, he's right, you know. Try to have some fun tonight, Tonks. Life's too short." There was a pause and then he added, "And so is Charlie."
That elicited the merest hint of a smile from Tonks, so Charlie did his best to hide his own annoyance and hold his tongue. He rose from his perch on the sofa, and headed towards the sideboard. He ladled out two cups of eggnog, then grabbed the bottle of brandy. He took a sniff; it wasn't as strong as Romanian tuica
, but it would have to do. He poured in an extra splash of the brandy into each. Surveying the food, he grabbed a small plate, filling it with nibbles both savoury and sweet, including some round things that looked rather chocolaty. The booze plus the chocolate had to cheer Tonks up. With a smile, he returned to her. "Here ya go."
She took the cup and a chocolate ball from him, taking great care not to spill anything on her clothes. "Ta."
"Oi, where's mine?" Bill asked, with a scowl.
"You can get your own, you pillock."
Bill snorted, then jumped to his feet. "I'll be right back." It didn't take him long to fetch his own cup of eggnog. "Right, so, shall we have a toast?"
"Christmas?" suggested Bill, then his expression grew more serious. "To being here amongst good friends? Or perhaps to still being alive when others near and dear to us aren't?"
Heaving a sigh, Tonks raised her glass. "Why not?"
Charlie fought the urge to roll his eyes. "In Romania, we just say 'Noroc'
"What's that mean?" Tonks asked.
"Good luck or God bless," he explained. "Reckoned we could all use a bit of either."
"Right." Bill nodded, smiling slightly. "Noroc
it is, then."
The three clinked their glasses, then drank down the eggnog, cold and rich and spicy. Charlie could taste the brandy as he swallowed it down. It was better than he'd expected. He glanced over at Tonks, and thought he saw the slightest hint of pink in her dull, brown hair. Perhaps the eggnog had been the right idea after all. *
Penelope glanced nervously around the room as the twins arrived, then monopolized Kingsley's attention. This was her first real introduction to the Order of the Phoenix; Kingsley had recruited her before he'd gone undercover in the Muggle Prime Minister's office, but she hadn't had much contact with the other members until tonight. She'd been amazed to discover that she knew nearly all of them. The only person in attendance tonight that she'd had no interaction with before was the Auror, Nymphadora Tonks. She had heard of her; Metamorphmagi were rare, so they tended to be talked about at great length, but Penelope had never crossed paths with Tonks before.
There were other members who had been unable to attend because of assorted commitments: work, family, and Order business. Kingsley had mentioned that some would be arriving later, including Molly and Arthur Weasley. She was very nervous to see Percy's parents again after all this time.
At least Bill, Charlie and the Weasley twins had been happy to see her. She had been a bit worried about the reception she was going to get from them when they saw she was there. It wasn't as if she and Percy had parted on very good terms, but to her surprise, Bill and Charlie had been quite friendly. If anything, they'd been more than understanding as to why she'd had to break off her relationship with Percy. It seemed as if his entire family had given up on him (with the exception of his poor, heartbroken mother) for his foolishness. Penelope had been most relieved to learn that.
She had been working at the Ministry for two years now. Her father had gotten her a job as an executive assistant in the Magical Law Enforcement Department through his contacts, which she liked very much. Of course, it had also put her in close and daily contact with Kingsley, a situation that Penelope definitely thought of as a job perk.
Kingsley had been a friend of her parents, and someone she'd admired since she'd been very small. As she'd grown older, the admiration had grown to something much stronger; he was clever and kind and extremely handsome. Of course, she knew better than to expect him to notice her
; she was too young, too inexperienced and too unsophisticated for this likes of him. She was certain he thought of her as a surrogate daughter, nothing more.
Still, she'd been flattered when he'd started to take an interest in her, talking to her about the Ministry and the current situation with Voldemort. He'd listened when she'd vented (privately, of course) about Percy Weasley and his foolish and blind devotion to both Cornelius Fudge and
Rufus Scrimgeour. Penelope supposed that's why she'd been invited to help with the Order.
She found it all terribly exciting.
Tonight, she had found herself playing de facto hostess for Kingsley's guests, keeping the food and drink flowing and making sure everyone had whatever they needed to have a good time. Organization was second nature to her, and Kingsley didn't seem to mind in the least.
"Penelope." Kingsley waved his hand, indicating she should join him by the punchbowl. Penelope complied, trying not to blush as she always did when she was near him. "I believe a drink is in order, my dear. You've been working far too hard for someone who is supposed to be a guest here."
"I don't mind," Penelope replied, accepting the glass from him. "I'm just good at organizing things, and you seemed to need an extra hand in that department. N-not that I'm saying the party would be in chaos otherwise. Hardly!"
To her relief, Kingsley let out a deep, booming laugh. "Oh, it might have been at that. Thank you, Penny. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your being here."
She could feel her cheeks burning now. "Thank you for inviting me. It's nice to be a part of something like this
"I'd had my eye on you for some time. I'm quite happy to see that I was correct in my assessment of you." He raised his cup in salute, and then they both drank.
Penelope could feel her anxiety beginning to melt away with the first sip. *
Angelina wasn't quite sure why she was at Auror Shacklebolt's party, other than the fact that Fred Weasley had asked her to go with him, and no matter how preposterous the request, when Fred asked her to do something, she always wound up doing it. Angelina considered herself fairly level headed and strong-willed, but when it came to Fred Weasley, she was a girl who couldn't ever say 'no'.
She was pleased that the twins (and everyone else here so far) trusted her enough to know about the Order of the Phoenix and what they were up to. Of course, she had been a proud member of Dumbledore's Army which, as George had pointed out, was practically the junior branch of the Order anyway. Their host had been surprised to see her when she'd turned up at his doorstep; there had been joking threats of Obliviation if she couldn't keep schtum
about the Order's secrets, including the names of its members (at least she thought Shacklebolt was taking the piss), but otherwise, he seemed just fine with her presence here.
Of course, it would have been nicer if she'd gone with
Fred and George instead of arriving on her own, especially when the Auror's home was Unplottable and she'd barely found it, but that sort of logic was beyond the twins' collective ken. Or perhaps they had been hoping to hear she'd been jinxed, hexed or otherwise abused for showing up unannounced, unescorted and slightly confused. Yes, they would have laughed themselves sick if she'd been sporting antlers, wearing singed and smoking braids, or missing a limb upon their arrival.
Angelina sometimes wondered why she gave either of them the time of day.
Fred and George were currently talking shop, taking virtual stock of ingredients and components needed for their spells, and boring her to tears. It hadn't helped that they were also both going on about Verity, the pert blonde girl who was now working in their shop, and how nice it was to have her working under them (wink wink, nudge nudge).
With a roll of her eyes, Angelina stalked over to the sideboard, deciding another cup of eggnog and some nibbles were in order. The twins' detailed discussion about the nubile, young Verity's best attributes had grated on Angelina's nerves; it was going to take more than eggnog to calm herself down. It wasn't that Angelina was jealous of the shop girl. Hardly.
She just didn't think any woman deserved that kind of scrutiny, especially when she was one's employee.
Reaching for the brandy, Angelina poured herself a liberal dose and drank it down.
"Oh, there it is!" Penelope exclaimed.
Angelina could see the other witch was flustered, her cheeks a bright pink. "What, the brandy?"
Penelope nodded. "We've run out of brandy balls. I need to make another batch!" She glanced over at Bill and Charlie Weasley and their pink haired friend in dismay. "That lot finished them off — Charlie seems to think they're the way to a girl's heart."
"Or other bits," Angelina said with a laugh.
Penelope's blush deepened. "In any case, we need more. Is there anything left in that bottle?"
Angelina gave it an experimental swirl, judging it to be about a third full, then nodded. "Seems to be."
"Thank Rowena," Penelope said with a sigh of relief. "I don't know what I'd do if we were out completely."
Shrugging, Angelina said, "We'd manage somehow. It's not like Auror Shacklebolt's going to let anyone starve, is he? It would ruins his reputation."
Penelope's eyes grew wide. "Of course not! He'd never—"
"That was a joke, Penelope."
"O-oh." Penelope managed a smile. "Of course." Her eyes swept over the makeshift buffet table, clearly taking a mental inventory of its contents. "I should get those balls started, then, and bring out more mince tarts. Be back in a tic."
Angelina tossed back the rest of her brandy, swearing that she would sooner die than ever be a mental domestic sort like Penelope Clearwater. *
Charlie was feeling much, much better. Between the eggnog, the brandy balls, the mince pies and other assorted foods, his mood had lightened considerably. It hadn't hurt that Tonks seemed to be in much better spirits too. She was smiling and laughing and joking again, her hair now a vibrant shade of fuchsia. The colour had returned to her cheeks, the mischievous glint back in her eyes. This was definitely the girl he knew and...liked
He reckoned the dramatic change in Tonks' demeanour was due to the chocolate in the brandy balls. Chocs always made girls happy. From what he remembered of his Defence Against Dark Arts classes, chocolate even counteracted the effects of a Dementor attack, so no surprise that it had worked now.
Everyone at the party seemed to be in a more festive mood. He supposed it was a given once the drinks began to flow. For once, people had stopped talking about the war and were actually having fun. Charlie personally no longer cared that Bill seemed to be flirting shamelessly with Tonks. Not that it was unusual for Bill to flirt with anything that possessed a pair of tits — it would have been more unusual if he hadn't — but the fact that it was Tonks had rankled Charlie somewhat. Bill knew about Charlie's relationship (such as it was) with her, and it wasn't as if he didn't have a Veela bint to call his own. Now, however, Charlie didn't care. In fact, it was rather amusing to see Bill making the attempt and getting nowhere with it.
"You've got chocolate on your fingers," Tonks purred, taking Charlie's hand. Before he could stop her, she'd pulled his hand to her lips and began to lick his fingertips.
Charlie groaned as she slid two fingers into her mouth, sucking gently. "Feels good."
Tonks chuckled, now grinning like a cat who'd just swallowed a canary. Or perhaps just had sucked on its toes.
Bill brushed Tonks' hair back from her ear, trailing one finger down the line of her neck, making her squirm. She let out a muffled squeal, causing Bill's smile to grow wider. "I like that noise."
"Funnily enough, so do I," said Charlie. Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, he leaned forward, extracted his fingers from Tonks' mouth and kissed her. Her lips tasted like chocolate and brandy and peppermint. She sighed in contentment as she kissed him back. When Charlie finally broke away, he turned to his brother and said, "I like that
noise even more."
Quirking an eyebrow, Bill replied, "Oh, do you?", then caught Tonks up in an equally heated kiss. She gasped in surprise, then hooked an arm around the back of Bill's neck, holding him in place. She was breathing hard as Bill pulled away, smirking. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time," he murmured.
That earned a snort and a roll of his eyes from Charlie. How many times had he heard Bill use that
line on a girl?
"I've been here all the time," Tonks reminded Bill, giving his ponytail a playful tug. "I'm here now
"So you are." Bill lowered his head, catching her up in another kiss.
Charlie felt a jolt of arousal as he watched his brother snog Tonks; still, he wasn't about to let himself be cut out of the action. After allowing them a few minutes, he shouldered Bill aside, then grabbed Tonks and kissed her long and hard.
Undeterred, Bill buried his face in the crook of Tonks' neck, licking his way down to her shoulder. Brazenly, he cupped her breast, coaxing her nipple to hardness through the fabric of her blouse with the pad of his thumb.
Somewhere in the back of Charlie's mind, it occurred to him that this probably wasn't the best of all possible venues for this kind of behaviour and that messing about in the middle of Kingsley's parlour was probably not something any of them should be up to. He shoved the thought away and went back to kissing Tonks. *
Penelope was taking another tray full of miniature quiches out of the oven when Kingsley came into his kitchen, the sound of his shoes on the wooden floor making her look up. She found herself staring at him; he was a handsome man, fit and tall, his expensive and well-tailored robes clinging to him in just the right places.
"Everything all right in here?" he asked, then snatched a quiche off the tray like a naughty schoolboy.
Watching him bite into it was one of the sexiest things Penelope had ever seen. "Erm, what? Yes. Yes.
," she finally managed to stammer. "Just getting more food. The plates are empty. Again. That Charlie Weasley eats as much as a herd of starving hippogriffs, doesn't he?"
Kingsley laughed, the sound deep and low. It sent a frisson of excitement up Penelope's spine. "I do wonder where that boy puts it to be honest. You shouldn't worry about him though, Penelope. You're my guest too. You should be enjoying yourself, not playing house-elf for me."
"I don't mind," she insisted. She set down the tray, then ran a hand through her hair, pushing a stray curl off her forehead. "I like to help."
"I know, but you are
my guest. You need to have fun just like everyone else." Kingsley reached out, touching her hand lightly, sending Penelope's pulse racing.
"I-I am having fun. I promise."
"You have a odd way of showing it, Miss Clearwater," he said, taking a step closer. "If you asked me, I'd say you look terribly tense."
She blushed. "Do I? I don't mean to—"
"Here, let me help you relax, my dear." He crossed behind her, looming over her. Penelope was tall, but she always felt tiny in his presence. His hands stroked up her back, and then he began to knead the nape of her neck, his hands strong and firm, his breath warm and moist as it ghosted over her skin.
"Oooh, that feels nice," she breathed.
"That is the whole point," Kingsley said, his mouth pressed to her ear. Then, he brushed his lips against the shell as he continued to massage her shoulders, stunning her speechless. As his teeth closed around her earlobe, Penelope let out a short, sharp moan. It grew louder as one of Kingsley's hands strayed down her back and came to rest on her bottom. *
"So, I was thinking if we just added a bit more mugwort to the Sweet Dreams pillows," George was saying to Fred, "then it might make them work a bit quicker."
Fred furrowed his brow in thought. "But, will that make them last as long? On the other hand, if they get used up faster, we might be able to sell more—"
"Right. That's it," Angelina said, giving Fred a friendly shove. "No more shop talk. This is a party, not a Joke Shop Owners convention. You lot have plenty of time to brainstorm on your bloody inventions on your own. You're starting to sound like your brother Percy. No, more like two
Percys. I won't have it!"
"That's not on!" Fred retorted. "We can't help it if we've had a brainwave—"
"I don't care!"
"But—" George started.
Angelina balled her fists, planting them on her hips and flashed the twins her fiercest look. "Oi, you two dragged me to this sodding party. The least you can do is entertain me!"
Fred opened his mouth to answer her, then stared across the room. He let out a low whistle and muttered, "Blimey..."
"What?" Angelina turned in the direction Fred was staring, her eyes lighting on Bill and Charlie Weasley who were busy snogging with that Tonks woman. All three of them seemed to be having a very good — and heated — time.
entertainment!" George exclaimed.
Fred turned to Angelina, flashing her a broad grin. "Looks like we won't have to keep you amused, Angelina. They will!"
Angelina scowled. "And just where did you get the idea that I like to watch other people going at it?"
"I dunno," Fred said with a shrug, "It was an educated guess?"
"I reckon that's more your
cuppa," Angelina retorted.
"Speaking of cuppas," George said, "you should have some more eggnog, Angelina. It's good for what ails you."
"What the hell are you on about, George Weasley?"
"What my brother means is that you should have some eggnog. It's got brandy in it and brandy's got wonderful medicinal qualities. Why do you think those Saint Bernard dogs always have it around their necks in the Alps?" Fred extended his cup towards her. "C'mon, have some."
"I don't particularly care for eggnog," Angelina said, then eyed the cup suspiciously. "You did
something to that brandy, didn't you?"
"What, us?" Fred's expression was one of complete and total innocence. Angelina wasn't buying it for a moment. "We'd never!"
"Pull the other one, Fred." Angelina glanced back over at Bill, Tonks and Charlie; her shirt was now open, and both Weasley brothers had their hands all over her pale skin. "They're acting strangely and so was Penelope."
"Penelope's always acting strangely. She went out with Percy
," countered George. He cocked his head in the direction of his brothers and Tonks. "As for them, well, they're clearly pissed out of their heads."
"We've been drinking the eggnog all night, haven't we?" added Fred.
Angelina considered that for a moment, then nodded in concession. "Oh, all right. If it'll stop you from badgering me..." She accepted Fred's cup and finished off the contents, half-expecting something drastic to happen to her. It didn't. "I still don't like the taste."
"Have some chocolate balls then—" George picked one off his plate and popped it in her mouth. It tasted delicious.
"I've got some ginger
balls you could nibble on instead." Fred waggled his eyebrows at her, nearly causing her to choke. "I reckon George has too. Although you might have to search quite a while to find 'em in his case."
"Piss off," George muttered. "I've got bigger balls than you have."
"You two are impossible," Angelina snorted, then helped herself to another sweet off George's plate. She was starting to feel much better; clearly Professor Lupin's belief that chocolate was a panacea had some validity. There was a loud cry from Tonks; Angelina looked over to see the other woman's bra was now off, her breasts bare and being lavished by a Weasley brother on either side. As much as Angelina wasn't a voyeur, there was something incredibly arousing about watching three attractive people messing about. "Ginger's all right," she murmured. "What do you think about chocolate?"
She grabbed Fred by the collar, pulling him toward her, then threw her arms around him and kissed him soundly. Boldly, she slid her tongue into her mouth, swirling it against Fred's until he groaned. As Fred's arms went around her waist, Angelina felt George pushing aside her thick mass of braids from her neck, then the tip of his finger tracing patterns along her neck and shoulders with something wet and cool. It smelled faintly like eggnog.
As George began to lap at her skin, his tongue following the lines of eggnog he'd drawn, Fred began to trail his kisses over her chin and down her throat. He picked up a chocolate and rubbed it over her chest, and down between her breasts.
"You're going to have to clean that up," said Angelina, her voice husky with desire.
"I think we can manage," Fred said, lowering his head to run his tongue up the streak of chocolate, then back down again. *
Nymphadora Tonks had a magnificent arse, Charlie mused. He'd been captivated by it for as long as he could remember — ever since he was old enough to realise how sexy a woman's bottom could be. He sat back on his heels, admiring the view as she bent over the arm of the sofa, naked as the day she was born, her legs spread wide as Bill, lying beneath her, buried his face between them. She moaned and wriggled, her arse swaying hypnotically as Bill began to lick her. Charlie could feel his cock twitching, throbbing painfully as he watched, unable to tear his eyes away from the tantalizing sight.
He didn't care if they had an audience or not. He didn't care that their host might walk back into his parlour and find the three of them going at it like a trio of shag-mad bunnies. All he cared about was pleasuring Tonks, and being pleasured in return.
She moaned again, arching her back and jerking in Bill's grip. Unable to help himself, Charlie manoeuvred around his brother, crouching down over her, his hands already on her arse, kneading and caressing. He heard her hiss in approval, then whimper as he lowered his head, dragging his tongue over her cheeks. He nipped at the now wet, firm flesh, and inhaled deeply, taking in the distinctive and musky scent of her arousal before spreading her cheeks apart with his thumbs, exposing the pink pucker of her arsehole.
Tonks bucked frantically, mewling, as Charlie's tongue flicked against it. Her moans grew louder as he began to tease her with the tip of his tongue, encircling the tight ring of muscle as he grasped her hips, holding her fast.
He could hear Bill, humming his enthusiasm against her cunt as he licked, the vibrations rippling so that even Charlie could feel it.
"Merlin," Tonks keened, "oh, Merlin!"
Charlie tightened his grip and licked harder. Tonks began to tremor, then shudder violently, her words breaking off into earth-splitting cries as she came. Charlie waited until she stilled before relaxing his hold, coming up for air. Planting light kisses on the cleft of her buttocks, then up her spine, he caressed her, listening as her breathing slowed.
By now, Charlie was so hard, he thought he might explode. He unfastened his trousers and pulled them down, followed by his pants, his cock bobbing against the taut line of his stomach. "Out of the way, pillock," he growled at his brother, barely giving Bill time to slide out from under Tonks before he'd pushed forward and sheathed himself, balls deep, inside her.
Tonks gasped, then constricted around him, sending Charlie reeling. As he began to thrust, he caught sight of Bill climbing onto the sofa, facing Tonks, claiming her mouth with his. *
The counter-top pressed into Penelope's stomach as she lay against it, her good dress robes in a heap on the floor beside her. Kingsley had kissed her and caressed her before stripping her down to bra, knickers, thigh-high stockings and heels, covering every inch of her with his hands and lips and tongue until she was quivering with pleasure.
She didn't protest as she felt him tugging at the band of her knickers, drawing the silky fabric over the curve of her arse and down her thighs. Although she'd fantasised about this uncountable times in the past, she never believed it would ever, could ever come true. And the reality was better than any fantasy she'd ever had.
Kingsley ran his hands up her legs, his touch feather light as he stroked upwards, then down again. He repeated the motion, this time his fingers slipping between her lips and over the nub of her clit. Penny whimpered, rocking against the counter, clinging to it as he continued to touch her.
"You are so beautiful," he breathed in her ear as he pushed one finger inside her.
Biting at her lower lip, Penelope stifled a cry as Kingsley moved his hand in short, shallow thrusts, then slowly dragged it along her slit and up between her buttocks. He pressed his fingertip, slick and warm, against her arsehole, causing Penny to tense.
"Relax. Trust me," he intoned, then pressed his lips to the nape of her neck, his body heavy against hers. "I want to make you feel good."
"Uh huh." Penelope inhaled deeply, trying to do just that. Her toes curled as she felt him work his finger in up to the first knuckle, moving it in slow, deliberate circles.
He probed further, kissing her neck again. "Good girl."
When she'd fully relaxed, he withdrew his finger. Penelope heard the rustle of fabric as Kingsley removed his robes, then felt the wet and gooey sensation of lubricant being applied. Her knuckles were white as she braced herself against the counter, trembling in anticipation, and her knees threatened to give way. She cried out as he pushed the head of his cock in. It was long and thick, stretching her to the limit. But Penny wanted this, wanted him
Kingsley took his time, sliding in inch by inch, patiently allowing her to adjust before continuing. His skin was hot where his hips met her bottom, his hands strong and firm as they dug into her. Penelope arched her back, shifting under the unaccustomed sensation. Kingsley slid his hand from her hip down between her legs, his index finger coming into contact with her clit.
Penelope gasped again, her grip loosening as she grew more comfortable, the touch of his finger stroking her clit causing her to relax. Kingsley began to move cautiously, as if concerned he might be hurting her. When he seemed certain of her comfort, his thrusts grew harder and more urgent as his fingers worked her furiously. She began to move in tandem with him, pushing back as he thrust forward, her arse rising up to meet his hips. The pace increased, reaching frenzied levels.
And then Penelope's vision exploded behind her eyes, every nerve shattering as the orgasm rocked her. She called Kingsley's name like a litany, quaking and thrashing beneath the solid weight of his body. She felt his arm tighten around her, his lips burning against her skin; he gave one final thrust, and then spilled into her. She lay there panting and gasping for breath as he held her tight, one hand tangled in her hair. *
Angelina lay beneath the snacks table, naked and sticky, cradled in Fred's arms, her head resting against his bare chest, while George licked and kissed his way from the tips of her toes up the length of her body. The twins had covered her with everything they'd been able to lay their hands on from Kingsley's buffet, as well as the eggnog, then had licked her clean. The brandy seemed to have hit her harder than she'd expected; she felt limbless and absolutely euphoric.
While this wasn't the first time she and Fred had had sex together — when Fred asked her to do things, she always found herself doing them — but it was
the first time George had been involved too. Not that it bothered Angelina in the least (although at the moment nothing could have anyway) — she and Fred hardly had an exclusive relationship, if that's what it could be called. They were more than friends, less than committed partners; they went out together, they slept together, and they cared about one another, but that was the extent of it.
Having George added to the mix made it more fun, especially when he and his twin had an unspoken connection, knowing how to work together seamlessly to pleasure her without speaking at all. She wondered if it ran in the family — Bill and Charlie seemed to have a similar rapport. She snuck another glance over at them; currently Bill was taking Tonks from behind, Charlie's cock in her mouth. Just a few minutes earlier, Angelina could've sworn it had been the other way around.
"Like what you see?" Fred growled in her ear.
"It's quite an eyeful," Angelina admitted, wriggling her bum against him.
"We'll have to try that then, won't we?"
She smirked. "Could do."
Fred's gaze flickered down to his twin. Immediately, George began to crawl up the length of Angelina's naked body. Fred moved his hands up, cupping her breasts, tweaked and tugging at her already-hardened nipples as George drew her forward, kissing her greedily, kneeling between her splayed knees.
One of George's hands skimmed down her belly and over the thatch of coarse curls at the juncture of her thighs, his fingers probing between the slick lips of her cunt. Angelina moaned in approval, grinding against his hand, Fred following suit by undulating against the small of her back.
"Gonna fuck you," George whispered, his voice rough with need. He withdrew his hand, then hauled her up onto his lap with Fred's help.
"Are you now?" Angelina chuckled, raising herself up to hover over his erection.
"If George says it, he means it," Fred replied, then bit at her neck. He aided his twin in lowering Angelina onto George's cock.
George groaned as Angelina settled herself, rocking back and forth slowly. "Feels so good," he hissed.
"Of course it does," Fred said with an air of authority. "I could've told you that." He tipped Angelina's head back to kiss her on the mouth , pressing himself against her back, his cock nestled between the cheeks of her arse, while George nuzzled at her throat.
Somehow, Angelina found the impetus to move, rising up, then sinking down again. Soon she'd fallen into a comfortable rhythm, riding George while Fred held her close, bracing her, urging her on, and helped keep up her pace. He matched his movements with hers, his hips pumping in time with hers, and his twin's. George thrust up to meet her, and down again, his eyes fixed on hers.
It didn't take long before she reached her peak; George and Fred were panting and gasping as one, their thrusts growing to a fevered pitch. Angelina sunk down on George one last time and with a final cry, came hard and fast. She was pinned between them as they held her, Fred behind her, George in front. There was a hot gush against her back as Fred clutched at her, his cries harsh and loud in her ear, then another inside as George joined his brother.
Angelina collapsed against George, her face buried in the crook of his neck, while Fred fell against Angelina in turn, his cheek pressed to her shoulder blade. He turned his head and peppered the back of her neck with kisses while George gently played with her braids, then kissed the top of her head. Closing her eyes, Angelina savoured the moment, never wanting to move again. *
"All right, so that's a ratio of 3 parts chocolate to 2 parts cream to one part brandy, one part tincture of poppy and one part marigold and a pinch of valerian, simmered over a low flame for ten minutes...then the same as last time," George mused as he scribbled the information down in his notebook. "Think that's finally the proper formula?"
"Hmmm?" Fred raised his head, his fist still tight around his rampant erection as he stroked himself. "Dunno if it's right, but it's certainly working, innit?"
Angelina stretched out on the bed as sinuously and gracefully as a cat. "I'll say. I don't care if you've got the right formula or not. I'm randy as hell and am in need of assistance..."
"Again?" the twins said in unison.
" Her lower lip jutted out into a most attractive pout. "It's not my bloody fault, you know. You did make me volunteer to help you suss out what Penelope did to make your potion so damn powerful."
"Well, when our Weasley's Wondrous Chocodisiacs are ready for sale, we're going to make a pile of filthy lucre," George reminded her. "Everyone's going to want them."
"If they can ever stop shagging like bunnies to go out and purchase more," Angelina teased. She spread her long legs, dipping her fingers between them to touch herself. "Blimey, this batch has made me insatiable."
"And this is different than the other because...?" Fred teased.
"Oh shut up and shag me, you prat." She glanced over at George, her smirk intoxicating. "You too, George Weasley. I can't have one without the other."
"He's too busy playing mad alchemist," said Fred, bounding over to the bed. "We'll just have to start without him."
"I'm just trying to discover what the proper catalyst was," George argued. "We know it was something in those brandy balls of Penelope's — it had to be. Our potion didn't do this. And given that it disrupted Kingsley's party the way it did, the least we can do is find out what caused it. We're lucky he didn't murder us after what happened."
"I think he was too embarrassed, truth be told. It wasn't as if he and Penelope weren't up to all sorts of debauchery in the kitchen. So, whatever happened at Kingsley's stays at Kingsley's." Fred shrugged, his hands already on Angelina's breasts. "Anyway, it worked out all right in the end, didn't it? He and Penelope are now truly, madly, deeply, Bill's dumped Fleur so he and Charlie can share time with Tonks, we've all got each other and
the effects all wore off before anyone else showed up. Can't imagine what would've happened if Mum and Dad had walked in on an orgy!"
George shuddered. "Don't let's go there, eh? Just think...Mum and Dad could've been involved in that orgy!"
Fred made a gagging noise, which soon gave way to a groan of pleasure as Angelina kissed him.
She finally pulled away, coming up for air. "C'mon, George. All work and no play make you a dull boy. Besides, this way you can suss out how long the effects of this one last. Consider it research.
He flung down his quill and made a flying leap towards the bed, landing squarely on the opposite side of Angelina from Fred. He loved his job — no other work would ever be as stimulating.