Fans of Harry Potter Femmeslash

Author: Lash_Larue
Title:Now and Then 2 "Ginny-Juice"
Pairing:Fleur/Hermione/Ginny - okay it's not a pair
Rating:NC-17
Summary: Ginny gets caught in the Veela Bond
Warnings:Explicit sex; three women; no accessories; oh... you want to watch out for Ginny :) ;Mushy love stuff
Word Count:6600 -ish
Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling, but they have more fun with me.

Thanks to my Beta Sor_Bet, who puts up with my stuff (Does it? Does it feel the same? Or...)

For Demoka - who also has a bit of a hair thing :)

Notes on "my" Veela lore precede the text. If you have not read Now and Then, this won't make too much sense, but it's still these three, so...



Notes on Veela Customs, and the Hair Thing (In my ’verse, anyway.)

First, the hair: Veela hair is alive and can move. It is not however, truly sentient, and its behavior is largely a reflection of the personality and mood of its “owner”. The Veela Bond greatly intensifies this characteristic, and some Veela gain an extraordinary amount of control over it, except at times of emotional intensity, when the hair might pick up on a stray emotion, a thought unknown to the Veela in question, or even a random memory from the past, and act seemingly at whim. It is best to consider it a separate entity, although it is not. It is, however, capable of transmitting sensation directly to its Veela in a way impossible to discern from a direct touch. As might be expected, this effect is most pronounced during times of passion.


The Veela Bond is, of course, one of love, and an absolute, unshakable trust. The bonding is so complete that there is no vulnerability to jealousy, and no chance of insecurity. Every thought, every feeling, everything is experienced by the members of the bond as if it were happening directly to them, because it is. This is one reason that the initial bonding is so intense, and physical. They are absorbing one another. It is an uncommon thing, and Veela regard it as sacred. Unrequited bonding is devastating to the involved parties, and is avoided if at all possible. The involved Veela must clearly choose to enter the bond, and after that, going back is not possible. Once bonded, they can share thoughts, this is indicated here as F: "Fleur's thought", those outside the bond are unaware of these exchanges, at this point in the tale, at least.


Because Veela are by nature creatures of emotional intensity, they have developed rituals that are implemented in some situations so that intentions may be clarified. One such ritual appearing in this story is the “Veela Challenge”. It is not really a challenge; it is more of an unequivocal statement that makes very clear one Veela’s intentions towards another. It can be startling in its intensity and can seem a bit crude sometimes, but it is very difficult to misinterpret. Form dictates that one Veela makes the approach, and then waits formally for a reply. After that, it’s up to them.

L
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Now and Then

The second story

“Ginny - Juice “

It had been a full year since Hermione and Fleur had left Grimmauld place some months after their first trip to the Now and Then Room, and moved into their own home. The constant coming and going of Ron and Harry’s quidditch buddies had just gotten to be too much. They were always hitting on Hermione or Fleur, and neither of them were the least bit interested. Together they had worked out an Apparition portal in their bonding room, and either or both of them could go directly there from wherever they were. They sealed the entrance just in case, and started their life together.

They had few visitors. Harry and Ron came over on occasion, and Luna now and then, but their only regular visitor was Ginny Weasley. Ginny had resolved things with Fleur after she saw the way Hermione’s attitude towards her had changed. She saw Fleur with new eyes, and realized, as had Hermione, that there was nothing at all affected about her. Fleur was Fleur, and what began with an apology blossomed into a warm friendship. But it was the hair that sealed the deal.

Ginny had been most taken with the change in Hermione’s locks after her bonding with Fleur, and had asked what she had done with it. Hermione told her that Fleur had been helping with it, and Ginny had shyly asked Fleur if she would do the same for her. So Fleur and Hermione would regularly wash, condition, and brush Ginny’s hair. Ginny was the only person, other than themselves, who ever saw Fleur and Hermione’s hair loose. Their hair nearly reached the floor, and the first time Ginny had seen it, she had been enchanted. It was a risk to let it loose around Ginny, because Fleur’s hair could be mischievous, but other than occasionally wanting to brush Ginny’s increasingly long tresses (Fleur and Hermione had whipped up a special potion using Veela magic to speed up the growth. Veela know a lot about hair) it behaved very well around her.

Ginny had marvelous hair. It was of course, not Veela hair, but the color had deepened as she matured, and it was thick and silky, and a joy to handle. In fact, Hermione and Fleur’s lovemaking was always very intense, even for them, after an evening spent with Ginny’s hair. They always spent extra time on their own appearance and preparations on “Ginny Night”, so as to be ready for each other afterwards. Hair was important to Fleur and Hermione.

They did not know that something similar was happening elsewhere, in a solitary setting.

By the night of the party celebrating their first year in their home, the only reason Ginny’s hair was shorter than Fleur and Hermione’s was because Ginny herself was shorter, and she didn’t want to walk on it; although she always wore hers up as they did. Except here. There was in fact so much of it, and it took so much time to do, that they gave Ginny her own room in their home. That way, they explained to Ginny, they didn’t have to feel guilty about keeping her up late when they worked on her hair, and they could give her a quick “touch-up” before she left in the morning. Ginny was thrilled with her room, and the thoughts behind it.

The dinner was a simple affair, just three good friends quietly enjoying a meal together, and the mood was warm and happy. After they ate, the women sat comfortably in the drawing room just enjoying each other’s company. Fleur and Hermione shared the couch, and Ginny was in her favorite chair by the fire, where the dancing flames threw highlights onto her hair. Fleur’s hand found Hermione’s and they leaned together in great contentment. After a pleasant time, Ginny yawned hugely, and then stood up and stretched. She ran her fingers through her hair from her temples back, lifted it, and let it fall back into place. Hermione and Fleur had all they could do not to react audibly to the sight, and exchanged a look not lost on Ginny. Ginny smiled, and said, “I don’t know why I’m so sleepy, but I’ve simply got to go to bed. See you in the morning.” Fleur and Hermione echoed her goodnight and sat for a while by themselves.

They each had their own room, although they slept together. Neither of them was remotely embarrassed by their relationship, they just felt that it was too precious to share on any level; except perhaps with Ginny, someday. They ignored the inevitable gossip, and mostly saved their wild side for the Now and Then room.

“Do you want to go tonight?” Hermione asked.

“Let’s stay here, I feel sort of homey. And Ginny’s here; I don’t like to leave when she’s around.”

“Neither do I,” agreed Hermione. Together they walked to Fleur’s room; they really didn’t care if Ginny saw them by now; they were sure that she knew, but Ginny had the grace not to mention it.

They were in a gentle mood, and just lay side by side, holding hands, softly stroking each other with their hair. “Ginny’s hair looked so gorgeous in the firelight,” breathed Fleur, as Hermione’s hair found a favorite place on Fleur.

“Yes, it did,” agreed Hermione, and she enjoyed the feel of the silken brush that hardened her nipples. “It makes me wet just to look at it now,” she admitted.

“Moi aussi,’ Fleur replied, ‘and to touch it ….” Both women shuddered a bit at the thought, and a sound of longing slipped from deep within them both.

They heard a noise from the wardrobe.

They were not frightened at all. With all of the research that they had done on Veela magic, and their own considerable power, not even Dragons posed much of a threat to them. But they did want to know about the noise. They gathered their wands, (hair nearly 6 feet long and prehensile is enormously useful) and softly walked over to the wardrobe. Fleur raised her wand and the door opened silently.

There stood Ginny, her dress hiked up and her hand in her panties, masturbating furiously. She stared at them, and said, “I’m not sorry. I know I shouldn’t have; but I’m not sorry.” It wasn’t the fact that Ginny had been watching them that rendered them speechless; their lovemaking was central to their lives, and they both loved Ginny. It wasn’t the fact that Ginny masturbated while she watched them, that made perfect sense. It was the fact that while Ginny’s hand was busy in her panties; her own hair was caressing her breasts.

Fleur: “Oh, dear.”

Hermione: “Indeed”

Ginny: “Did you say something?”

Fleur: “Merde….”

Ginny’s hand emerged from her panties, but it was apparent to both Fleur and Hermione that it had not finished its work. Ginny met their gaze defiantly; “Stop that,’ she said, yanking the rope of hair from inside her dress. ‘Bloody stuff is hornier than I am. And lately, that’s saying something.”

“Ginny,’ began Hermione, ‘we can explain.”

“I certainly hope so, because I can’t. I’m in a bloody cupboard wanking off while I watch my two best friends make love with their hair! It doesn’t make sense to me; but it makes me so hot I can scarcely breathe.” Hermione reached for Ginny’s hand, and Ginny jerked it away. “Don’t touch me unless you mean it, Hermione. I want you to, I want both of you to; but I’m just a bit on edge at the moment. And put some clothes on, would you?”

They hurried to obey; Ginny was indeed a “bit on edge”. “Come and sit with us,” said Fleur, patting the bed beside her.

“That’s not a good idea; I’ll sit over by the dresser.” That proved not to be a good idea either; both Hermione’s and Fleur’s brushes were on the dresser, and the sight of the few long hairs trailing from the brushes was unsettling. Ginny resolutely turned her back on the brushes and sat. “What’s wrong with me?” asked Ginny flatly.

“Nothing, Ginny, nothing at all; you have been drawn into our bond, our Veela Bond. It will take some time to explain, and you have to promise never to tell anyone.”

“I promise. Give me the short version.”

“Fleur and I are in love,” began Hermione. The “duh!” look on Ginny’s face convinced her that this version was not short enough. “We are forever bound to each other by Veela magic. It should not have been possible for this to occur, since Fleur is only part Veela, and I don’t think I can have any Veela blood at all. Because you have spent so much intimate time with us, and because we love you, you seem to have gotten caught up in it.”

“Right, got it. How do we fix it?”

“Fix it?” said Fleur.

“Stop it, then,” Ginny answered.

“We’re not sure that we can, at this point,’ answered Hermione, pointing at Ginny’s hair, which was trying to slip back under her dress. Ginny slapped it, and Fleur laughed. Ginny glared.

“It’s not you I’m laughing at, Ginny, it’s the hair. Mine is always doing things like that,” she explained.

“That’s a Veela thing, then?” asked Ginny. They nodded. “And you can’t stop these feelings?”

“The only possible way to stop them would be for us never to see you again,’ began Fleur, ‘it would be hard for us all, and the bonding is already fairly advanced. It must be, for your hair to be behaving like that. It might not work.” At the sound of the words ‘never to see you again’, three pairs of eyes filled with tears, and three throats choked on a sob.

“There is nothing else at all?” pleaded Ginny.

“Well, we can just accept things as they are,” Hermione said.

“Would I have to stay in the wardrobe?” Ginny asked. She was serious; the prospect of forever being a sideline spectator to Fleur and Hermione’s love broke her heart, but it seemed far better than never seeing them again.

“There might be one other choice,” Hermione said slowly, and she turned to look at Fleur.

Fleur: “Should we?”

Hermione: “I think we have to. I just don’t think it’s possible to stop the bonding now, and anyway, it would mean never seeing her again. I couldn’t bear that. We should have noticed something sooner. I suppose her feelings just blended so well with our own that we never picked up on how she felt.”

F: “Do we want to?”

Hermione considered this, for it was valid. There was no way for them to have foreseen this turn of events, for there had never been a triple Veela Bond. She knew; she and Fleur had visited Veela flocks all over the world, and had written the definitive text on Veela customs and magic. There was one copy of this book in existence, and it was in this house. The bond was nowhere in it. She looked at Ginny; looked past the misery at the woman she had known for years, since they were both girls; a woman who had fought beside her. Did she want Ginny?

H: “I do.”

F: “So do I.”

G: “What did you say?”

“We didn’t say anything; we thought it; don’t worry, it’s normal.” Ginny snorted. “We don’t really know what might happen if we try this, because this has never happened before. But you can join us, if you want to.” Hermione waited.

“Right,” said Ginny. “I want to.”

“The bonding is rather… intense,” cautioned Fleur.

“Good,” said Ginny.

“There’s rather a lot of sex,” added Hermione.

“I should fucking well hope so,’ said Ginny flatly. ‘What next?”

“We have a very special room that we would like to show you; come with us.” They seized Ginny’s hands and were gone in a crack of sound.

“Nice room,’ said Ginny, ‘what’s that smell?” Fleur and Hermione blushed a bit; that smell was the …*us*… smell. The room was always scrupulously clean, but pheromones do linger. “Never mind; it’s you two. It’s nice, but it’s not calming me down. Now what?”

“Well, there is the sex…” began Fleur.

Ginny grabbed her shift and ripped it off, and then tore her panties off and tossed them over her shoulder. “I’m ready.”

Fleur and Hermione stared; Ginny was magnificent. Her hair, her skin - it all glowed. She was shorter than either of them, and her breasts were smaller, but she was perfectly proportioned. It was the evident strength of her that was stunning; you could see the muscles move beneath her skin. But there had never lived a more female-looking creature than Ginny.

“Look later,” said Ginny, and Fleur and Hermione both smiled at the memory. “If you mean this, dump the robes.” They did, and the hunger on Ginny’s face increased.

“Ginny, things can get sort of… ‘exotic’, during the bonding –“

“Let me be clear,’ interrupted Ginny, ‘Hermione, I have been in love with you since the first time I saw you on the platform. The first orgasm I ever had was on my second day at Hogwart’s. I nicked a pair of your panties and wore them on my face while I wanked off. I still have them, and I still do that. It wasn’t Harry, it was never really Harry, but by being close to him, I could be close to you. The other boys… well, I never thought I had a chance with you, so I tried. They seemed to like me, but it never got past a bit of snogging. They wanted to go farther, but it was always your face in my mind, and I just couldn’t fool myself that much. There’s more, but it can wait.”

“Fleur, there was a time I didn’t much like you, but that’s gone. I was jealous of the attention you got, and I behaved badly. But I was actually glad when I saw how you and Hermione felt about each other. You gave her happiness, and I fell in love with you the first time I came to your house, and I saw you give Hermione a look that ruined a brand new pair of knickers for me. But the very first time I clapped eyes on you, I wanted to eat your pussy more than I wanted my next breath; I still do.” Ginny paused, looking at them with such naked longing that Hermione and Fleur both stopped breathing.

“I come every time you two do my hair,” she said softly, her eyes unfocused. “Even before I go to bed and masturbate all night.” Fleur swallowed audibly, and Hermione caught her hand. They both felt a melting heat spread through them.

“I know I’m being vulgar; this isn’t me, not really. But I don’t have time to make it pretty. I don’t feel pretty. ‘Exotic?’ I tell you plainly, that once this begins, I intend to kiss, lick, suck or otherwise put my mouth on every inch of skin the two of you possess. And I hope with all my heart you do the same for me. I want to explore the inside of both of you everywhere I can find a way in, with every part of me that I can get to fit. I want to shrink both of you down and have you make love with each other inside my mouth. I want to shrink myself, crawl into your vaginas and do sit-ups. Anything either or both of you even think you might want to do - to, with, or for me, I want it more than you want to do it. I intend to give myself to you completely, holding nothing back. I already have; it’s done. I love you both, but right this minute the wanting is leading the race.”

“It’s not your fault this happened to me. I’m glad that it did; but I don’t want into this bond because you feel guilty. I want you to want me.” Hermione swallowed then, and squeezed Fleur’s hand tightly. The melting intensified.

“There are a couple of things I ask; first, that you let me know in terms that I can understand that you want me with you. It seems pretty clear; but you have to understand that just now I’m not much more than a five foot two inch red-haired vagina with a clit the size of a Quidditch bat, being guided by a brain stem. Next - and I know it sounds selfish; is that the first thing I want to do, Fleur, is to eat your pussy until you pass out screaming my name. Hermione, I want to stand on that bed with you on your knees in front of me and fuck your face until you nearly drown in Ginny-juice, and then I’d like you to return the favor. I don’t think I’ll forget, but if I do, please remind me. One last thing; if I start, then I won’t be able to stop. Again, please excuse my language, but as I said, I’m a bit – “

“On edge,” chorused Fleur and Hermione.

“You – Have – No – I ¬- Dea. If something other than my own damn hair doesn’t touch me soon, I am going to explode.”

Fleur and Hermione were stunned. Neither of them had ever heard, not even in Veela literature, which was pretty much limited to one subject, a sexual diatribe remotely comparable to that. It was awesome in its vulgarity, invention, passion, and thoroughness. They were in the presence of greatness. And they both could feel the melting begin to overflow.

F: “The Veela in HER…”

H: “Is quite a thing indeed.”

F: “Veela Challenge?”

H: “That’s about the only thing that will get through at this point, I think. Who does it?”

F: “I will, if it’s okay with you.”

H: “You’re the right one for this, and I love to watch you. We waited too long, though, I’m afraid his might get a bit rough.”

F: “We shall see. Hang on love, your Fleur is about to light the fuse.”

Fleur’s face changed. The stunned look was gone; her hip shot out to the side and she stared at Ginny with a look that could boil water. It had done. Ginny didn’t move. Fleur began to move towards Ginny, and she writhed as she walked. There is no adequate way to describe it; but Hermione, who had seen it before, began to sweat. Ginny didn’t move. Fleur stared into her eyes from a distance of about one inch, their bodies nearly touching. Ginny was vibrating. Fleur said, as quiet as a whisper, “I want you, Veela.” Then she reached out, and none too gently grabbed Ginny by the crotch, and lifted her onto her toes. This was Veela for, “bring it.”

Ginny moved then. She arched her back violently, and from her throat rolled a thunderous purr. “Fleur!”

Fleur wanted to hold her and kiss her, but the challenge was not gentle, and she knew that Ginny was not yet ready for gentle in any case. Fleur turned and walked back to stand beside Hermione, who was shaking a bit. Fleur wanted to shake, but this was tradition, and they took it seriously.

Ginny had recovered her composure by the time Fleur turned around; she smiled at them, and for an instant her eyes filled, and she mouthed, “I love you.”

“We know, and we you,” they mouthed back.

Then Ginny’s face changed. Her eyes slitted, her lip curled, and she looked positively feral. Ginny approached Fleur; there was no hip swaying in her walk. She paced like a great cat, with her eyes fixed on Fleur. Hermione felt something hot ,and slick, running down her inner thighs, and she was shaking a little more.

Ginny stopped close enough to Fleur that their breath mingled, and Fleur felt her knees begin to give. Never shifting her eyes, Ginny reached out with her left hand, and very gently slipped it between Fleur’s legs. Fleur was surprised; she had expected something a little rougher, especially from the look on Ginny’s face. Ginny delicately slid a finger inside Fleur, and… lifted her easily into the air. Fleur and Hermione both gasped. Never breaking her visual lock, Ginny brought Fleur close and closed her mouth over her left nipple. She teased it erect with her tongue, raked it lightly with her teeth, and then blew softly on it. She SNARLED, and the hand holding Fleur squeezed. Fleur convulsed, and her skin bloomed red.

F: ”Ginny! ahh gin…”

H: “Ginny!”

G: “You bet your sweet arse it’s Ginny!” This was Ginny for, “it’s brought.”

Still holding the quaking Fleur aloft; she gave the shaken Hermione a look that promised much, and then smiled and said, “I read your book.”

She took two long strides and dumped Fleur unceremoniously on the bed. She grasped her behind the knees, and in a fluid motion slid her across the bed, opened her legs, climbed onto the bed herself, and absolutely buried her face in Fleur. Fleur’s mouth opened, and a primitive sort of sound came from her; her eyes went wide and round and then rolled back into her head. Ginny put her hands under Fleur and lifted her bottom from the bed, and her hair roved wild over the rest of Fleur. Then Fleur’s hair pitched in and she mostly disappeared under a blanket of red and silver. Hermione watched in awe; she crawled onto the bed beside them and stared while her own hair caressed her, she was unable to look away. The hair cleared away from Fleur’s face, and Fleur’s eyes met Hermione’s. Fleur smiled, an aching smile from miles away, and Hermione smiled back, shaking her head in wonder. Fleur tried to reach out to Hermione, but the hair wouldn’t let her, and anyway…”Ginny!”

Ginny laughed, and even muffled as it was, it was a laugh that belonged in that room. Hermione could feel heat flooding through her. She was amazed, because she was already thoroughly aroused. But a picture had formed in her mind of Ginny standing before her, her hands on Hermione’s head, her hips working, her…

F: ”Ginny! Ooh, Ginny!”

Hermione rose to her knees. Something told her that it wouldn’t be long now, and her mouth began to water.

F: “Ginny! Ahh Ginny, GinnyGinny – GINGINGI -!!”

Fleur’s eyes fluttered closed as the tension flowed out of her, and a small, soft, sigh fell from her lips

Ginny slowly raised herself to her knees as her hair untangled, and planted a soft kiss on Fleur’s now very red and swollen vulva. She turned to face Hermione, and there was a fleeting smile as she saw that Hermione was waiting, ready for her. Then Veela-Ginny was back, and she still looked hungry. She rose with that same feline grace and moved in front of Hermione… she softly placed her hands on the back of Hermione’s head, and then rocked her hips forward and put her pussy firmly into Hermione’s waiting mouth. …*Ginny*… recorded the brain. The Ginny scent was familiar, and it went well with the …*us*…scent of the room. The Ginny taste was sharp, and it went well with Ginny.

Hermione growled, Hermione licked, Hermione sucked, Hermione nibbled, Hermione thrust her tongue as far into Ginny as she could, and all the while Ginny held her head, and pumped her hips. Sometimes Ginny got Hermione’s nose inside her, because she was doing exactly what she had said that she wanted to do. And Hermione loved this, as she loved Ginny, and she wanted this, as she wanted Ginny.

Ginny slowed for a moment, and Hermione had time to find that while “Quidditch bat” might have been exaggeration when applied to Ginny’s clitoris, it was indeed rather apparent. Then something warm began rubbing her own clit, and she realized that it was Ginny’s toe. She had an instant to wonder how Ginny managed that feat of balance, and then Ginny picked up the pace again. She laid the top of her foot against Hermione and let the motion of her hips rock the foot against her. A sound began to climb from low in Ginny’s chest, and her hands tightened on Hermione’s head. Hermione could feel an urgency building inside Ginny. The foot pressed harder into her, and Hermione managed to once again get her tongue inside Ginny. Ginny squeezed it. Drowning in Ginny-juice seemed a distinct possibility. There came a sudden gasp from Ginny, and she thrust four more emphatic times.

G: “HER- MI – O - NE!”

H: “Ginny, Ginny, GINNY!”

Hermione slumped, but Ginny held on to her, easily supporting her. Fleur’s strength was surprising, but Ginny’s was purely unnatural. Hermione looked over and saw that Fleur had regained consciousness, and watched as Fleur’s hair ordered itself. Fleur made no attempt to move, but she did lay her hands gently on her engorged sex, as if to hold on to something. Ginny lifted Hermione to her feet and let her lean against the wall, and then dropped to her knees. She looked over at Fleur, and gave her a feral smile. Then she licked her lips and turned her face to Hermione; Hermione’s hips rocked forward. “Watch out for –” Fleur began. Hermione’s mouth fell open, and a moan came from deep within her, and her eyes went round and then rolled back into her head. “Her tongue,” Fleur finished.

Ginny laughed; then Ginny growled. So did Hermione. Fleur’s hair, always playful, popped Ginny sharply on the bum. Ginny laughed again, and Hermione howled. Though the warning came late, Hermione had figured it out anyway. Ginny’s tongue was rather remarkable, just like all of her. It was unusually long and as powerful as the rest of Ginny, and Hermione found that no matter how hard and fast she moved her hips, Ginny’s tongue stayed in her. And that was very nice indeed, and Hermione’s inner flesh clung hungrily to Ginny’s tongue. Hermione tried to rub Ginny with her foot, but even with the wall to lean on she couldn’t match Ginny’s feat, and she looked over at Fleur. Fleur’s eyes lit up, and she moved.

Ginny was completely intent on getting her tongue just a little deeper into Hermione, when she was emphatically informed that Fleur had a tongue too. Fleur growled, Hermione growled, Ginny snarled. An Extendable Ear in that room would have passed sounds that remarkably resembled a pride of wild felines feeding, and in a way, it was. A bonding long delayed produces a fierce need in its members – and this bonding had been delayed long indeed. Hermione pulled Ginny to her with all of her strength, and her hips began to move jerkily. Ginny’s lips gnawed on Hermione’s; Fleur swallowed as she found out all about Ginny-juice. Hermione’s breaths were coming in gasps. Fleur was panting between swallows. Ginny didn’t seem to need to breathe at all, but she swallowed some, too. Then everybody was coming.

“GIN…HER…FLE…GIN…FLEU…GI…HER!!!!...ginny….” They collapsed in an untidy pile.

F: “Dead, dead, dead, I am so dead.”H: “I am deader than that.”

G: “Not me.”

Ginny extricated herself from the pile and stood looking down at Fleur and Hermione. She smiled, a real smile, and Hermione and Fleur gazed back in open wonder. Ginny wasn’t even breathing hard. She was pretty wet in places, but they were sure that it wasn’t sweat. She bent to Hermione and proceeded to apply the most thorough kiss in history. It was gentle yet firm, and even Hermione’s brain gave up trying to catalog all of the scents and tastes that it carried and just dumped the lot into a bin labeled “hellcat”. Hermione was beginning to wonder if it would ever end, while at the same time dreading that it would, when she heard a sound from Fleur. Ginny’s foot was back at play.

F: “Ginny, our Ginny, ohhhh…”

Ginny laid Hermione on her side, and then gathered Hermione’s hair and stretched it out in a long, thick, path. Hermione’s hair quivered a little, but otherwise remained where Ginny placed it. Ginny lay beside the dark river of hair and embraced it. She kissed it, she stroked it, she felt it with all of her being, and as she made love with the hair Hermione’s body responded. Hermione’s nipples hardened and tingled as Ginny’s fingers toyed with her hair. She felt Ginny’s tongue softly dance with her own while Ginny kissed her hair. Hermione’s hair loved Ginny too, and it softly cradled her face, and gently stroked her skin, and slowly traced the soft parting of her cleft. It lovingly brushed her still painfully swollen clitoris, and flowed deep inside that most …Ginny… of places. Ginny smiled, and breathed soft sounds.

Fleur watched her lovers loving, and she also felt Ginny’s touch, Ginny’s kisses, and when Ginny slid two fingers into the silken mass of Hermione’s hair, she felt that too. F:“Ginny…notre gin…”

H: “…*us*… Ginny, chere Gin…”

Hermione could still feel Ginny’s fingers in her when Ginny released her hair and proceeded to kiss, lick, suck, and otherwise put her mouth on every inch of skin that she possessed. She was gentle now, but she was relentless. She poured a decade of her love all over Hermione’s body, and slowly, softly, endlessly, rubbed it in through the skin of her. Ginny traced the areola of Hermione’s right breast with her tongue, softly circling the rock-hard nipple while the fingers of Ginny’s right hand gently pinched and caressed her other breast. That hand then slid slowly down the delicate skin of Hermione’s belly, and softly cupped the hot, wet, center of her. Ginny’s pursed lips touched the peak of the now glistening breast, then sucked it firmly into Ginny’s mouth while her fingers smoothly slid into Hermione’s eager heat.

G: I love you, with all that I am, heart, body and soul…

F&H: You do indeed love, you do indeed…

Hermione’s brain quit trying to count climaxes. It was meaningless, it was simply one unending orgasm, and Hermione could only lie there and experience it. Ginny fit herself inside Hermione everywhere that she could find a way in; sometimes more than one place at a time, and Hermione simply could not tell what or where any longer, and it didn’t matter. It was all Ginny, all *them*, and all so very, very wonderful.

Hermione passed into oblivion of bliss, making a mental note to research shrinking spells.

Ginny loved all of her.

H: “Ginny…”

Fleur had seen Hermione drift away, and she saw Ginny turn to her. Fleur stretched out on her back, and bent her head back sharply, her throat tight. The challenge was over, the reply received, and they had all won.

Ginny came to her and delicately took her throat in her teeth and held it, and then Ginny’s tongue caressed it on the way to Fleur’s mouth; where she delivered the other most thorough kiss in history.

F: Notre Gin… you love us so well… notre belle, belle, belle tendre bien-aimee, Ginny… notre petite belle Gin…

G: Ma Fleur…ma Hermione… ma nous… je t’aime nous toujours, toujours…

Ginny’s strong and soft hands loved every part of Fleur, and while they kissed, Ginny’s hands traced every line of Fleur’s beautiful body that they could reach, and what the hands could not reach, the hair could. Fleur glowed, Fleur quivered and shook, Fleur gasped, and Ginny smiled and loved Fleur with all of her heart and strength. And Ginny was so very, very, strong….

Ginny succeeded in getting a fair bit of her breast into that very …*Fleur*… place.

Ginny,notre petite chere, Gin…

Ginny kissed her way along the beautiful sweep of Fleur’s ribcage, and pressed her face into the soft skin of the hollow just below there, for a long while. Because it was simply such a very pretty place. Ginny tucked her face into the graceful softness of Fleur’s neck, and lightly tickled her with her eyelashes. She softly laid her tongue on the corner of Fleur’s jaw, and felt the flutter of her heartbeat. For a very long time, even by the time of this place, she simply held Fleur and wept silent tears of joy for what Fleur had given to her, and made of her. For all of this had come about through Fleur –

Fleur de la couer – Blossom of the Heart….

Fleur turned languidly in Ginny’s arms, and kissed the end of her nose, and their hair began to dance, and the fire of Ginny’s hair gloried in the sunlight of Fleur’s, and every touch, every feeling, echoed back to them both. Ginny missed absolutely no part of Fleur, with any part of herself, and Fleur too could only lie and bask in the overwhelming love that Ginny lavished on her. “…we are yours, our precious Ginny, we are yours…toujours.”

Fleur drifted off; Ginny sat quietly and watched her lovers sleep. “I love you,” she said aloud, but softly, her eyes shining with joy. “I do so love you both.…”

Fleur and Hermione smiled in their dreams, and in their dreams, a great red-golden panther watched over them, and kept them safe.

Hermione and Fleur awoke from their dreams, and saw Ginny watching them; it gave them both a warm feeling.

F: “Our Ginny.”

H: “Our Ginny.”

G: “More.”

Fleur and Hermione rolled Ginny on to her stomach and spread her arms and legs wide. Hermione started at her head, and Fleur started at her feet, and they missed none of Ginny. They explored and loved her with every part of themselves.

G: “HERMIONE!”

Hermione had come up with a foot thing of her own.

G: “HERMIONE,HermioneHer…FLEUR!!!!”

They rolled her onto her back and spread her arms and legs wide again, and they both started in the heat of her, and stayed there quite a while. Ginny-juice seemed to be in endless supply, and Ginny came with Fleur’s tongue in her and her clitoris in Hermione’s mouth; with her clitoris in Fleur’s mouth and her breast in Hermione’s, and they did their very best not to miss an inch of skin. They lay beside Ginny, enfolded her in their arms, and in the sheer strength of their love they melted into a single being, and found that …*ours*… is a miraculous thing to be.

They bathed in the lake of silken flames that was Ginny’s hair….

H: “Our Ginny….”

G: “Our Fleur….”

F: ”Our Hermione….”

G: “more…*us*….”

They lay Ginny on her side, and Fleur straddled Ginny’s face and then lay on her own side. Fleur’s eyes went round, and rolled back into her head. Hermione put her face between Ginny’s legs, and proceeded to deliver yet another most thorough kiss in history.

Hermione’s legs opened for Fleur, and every mouth was being kissed; every lip was being gently nuzzled, and every tongue had some hot, soft place to go. They memorized each other with their tongues. Every fold and cleft, every scent and taste, every tiny difference between them that was also a similarity, was burned into their memory. Every special spot was lovingly bathed, and tenderly sucked, and it was all stored away in their single, beating heart. They felt the changes that their love brought about, and they rejoiced in them. The three of them pulsed with love and passion; there was no thought other than each other. There was no speech - just an endless sea of warmth….

Things might have gone on that way forever, had not Ginny’s hair decided that a little payback was in order. It snapped Fleur hard on the bum. Fleur didn’t mind, but that got Fleur’s hair stirred up, and it gave Ginny’s hair a sharp tug. Ginny must have liked that, because a deep purr came from between Fleur’s legs.

F:”Ginny!” Fleur really liked the purr - a lot.

Hermione’s hair tried to calm the others’ hair down. Hermione was quite happy with the way things were going, thank you very much, and was beginning to get a bit impatient with the ruckus. Both Fleur’s hair and Ginny’s hair turned on Hermione’s and tugged really hard. Hermione would not have minded that too much, except that it pulled her mouth off of Ginny’s clitoris. She minded that quite a bit, for it had been doing some interesting things in her mouth. Ginny wasn’t too fond of that either; it distracted her at the wrong time, and Fleur was disappointed with that. Each of them tried to get her own hair under control, but it was hopeless. Hermione’s hair was the strongest, but Fleur’s was faster and harder to hold, and it was having a grand old time.

Sharp snapping sounds echoed throughout the room. But if Fleur’s hair was mischievous, then Ginny’s was downright rude. It pinched, it pulled, it penetrated, flagellated, and outright fornicated; any of which might have been nice alone, but all at once - it was a bit much.

It was a glorious sight, though; it was as if a river of chocolate were trying to quench a whirlwind of fire - in the middle of a lightning storm. It was all love-making, all desire… and all them.

At last, Fleur’s hair tricked Ginny’s, and Hermione’s hair caught it and held it long enough for Fleur’s hair to beat it into submission. Fleur’s hair was PISSED; it had grown accustomed to being the naughty child. The three women laughed like loons; they laughed and hugged; they laughed and kissed; they held each other close and laughed until they wept. And they cried a river of joy, and an ocean of love, and they slipped into a peaceful sleep filled with beautiful dreams, covered by a living blanket, that loved them all as well.

“…*us*…toujours, toujours, toujours…”

The only time was now.

G: “Am I dead?”

F & H: “You’d better be.”

G: “I rather like it.”

F & H: “We hoped that you would.”

G: “More.”

Fleur and Hermione sat bolt upright, only to find Ginny grinning impishly. She was so clearly content and happy that they relaxed and enjoyed the joke. Then because this too was tradition now, they rose and stood together in front of the mirror. Fleur, Hermione, and Ginny; bonded forever. They slipped their arms around each others waists, and looked.

“Oh, dear,” said Hermione softly.

Their hair was hopelessly tangled and too exhausted to do anything about it. There were red marks from the hair fight, and both Fleur and Hermione had a few sets of teeth marks in interesting places. (Ginny bit a little). There was a liberal sprinkling of sheet burns; everyone’s lips were puffy, all of them, and all of them were shining with Ginny-juice, and other slippery wetness. Hermione looked dismayed; Fleur looked shocked, and Ginny had a grin so wide it threatened to tear her face in two.

“We look a fright!” cried Hermione.

“We look like something the cat refused to drag in,” said Fleur, crestfallen.

“We look AWESOME!!” cried Ginny joyfully.

After a moments consideration, Hermione smiled. “Ginny’s right.”

“Yes, she is,” agreed Fleur, and that glorious smile lit the room.

Ginny’s tired and tangled hair divided into two more or less even bunches, and for what was certainly the first, and likely the last time, did what she asked it to do. It delivered a sound, simultaneous swat to each of her lovers’ bottoms.

“You bet your sweet arses I’m right!”


L



The ladies have informed me that they consider their bond to be complete, and that they do not at this time foresee any additions. They are however, ready for the world, and if the world is not quite ready for them – well - that’s the world’s problem, isn’t it?