Fans of Harry Potter Femmeslash

Author: Lash_larue
Title:Now and Then 3 - Part 2
Pairing:Fleur/Ginny/Hermione - Ron/Harry
Rating: NC-17
Summary: The boys get down to business, and Hermione gets a little back on Fleur and Ginny.
Warnings:EXPLICIT MANSEX! I thought it would be cheating to wimp out on the guysex. So if that's a squick, DON"T READ this. Let me know, and I will do another version without the explicit manstuff. All I need is one request and I'll do that. It won't take long. Shit, I wrote the stuff, and it squicked me a bit.
Oh, Hermione gets the least bit raw in this thing.
Explicit Girlsex! (Yay!)
Word Count: 8900 more or less
Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling, I just turn them loose.


Beta thanks to my dear Sor_bet, and RedBearGrl.

Remaining errors, of which I just found one, are mine.

If you have not read the first 3 bits of this, you might want to try that. They are tagged here, and the story builds on itself.
L






Now and Then

The 3rd Story, Part Two






Harry peeled the jumper off over Ron’s head, and ran his hands all over Ron’s chest and back. He could feel the strength as the muscles jumped under his touch. Harry turned around and lifted his arms above his head; Ron skinned off the cashmere, and put his arms around Harry’s chest. He kissed Harry across the top of his shoulder, and then up his neck to nuzzle into the wild, black, hair. It smelled like Harry, and it felt like home.

“I don’t know what to do now, Harry,” he said, “it’s different. I don’t know the bases…”

Harry thought back to what Ginny had said to him. “It’s love Ron, there are no bases. There’s just us. Come with me.” Harry took Ron’s hand and led him over by the bed, and then unbuckled Ron’s jeans, then his own. “Kick your shoes off Ron.” Ron did, and they hit the floor with a thud. “Bloody gunboats, those shoes of yours.” Ron laughed, a little nervously; but he did laugh. Harry slipped off his own shoes, and shucked his pants and underwear all together. He stood in front of Ron, waiting.

“You’re sure, Harry, really sure? This isn’t a joke is it, because I couldn’t stand it if this is some kind of a joke.”

“No jokes, I’m not one of your brothers, Ron,” he said smiling. Ron smiled back, and stepped out of his trousers too. Harry grabbed Ron by the face, crushed his lips to Ron’s lips, and for the very first time their tongues met. There were a lot of very first times in store for them, Harry realized. And he reached his hand down to try another one.

“Harry,” moaned Ron as Harry firmly and slowly stroked his cock. Ron squeezed him, and Harry realized that while loving Ron promised to be wonderful, that it did carry an element of risk.

“Oof,” said Harry, and Ron hastily released him.

“Sorry, Harry, I guess I got carried away for a moment.’’

“Well, that sounds rather nice, actually, now you mention it.”

Ron immediately demonstrated that he was not as thick as he had made out for years, by lifting Harry into his arms, and landing them both on the bed. They kissed again, and this one lasted quite a while as they let their hands roam over one another. At last, the kiss broke and Harry rested his head on Ron’s chest while his hand played idly with the ginger-colored hair that covered it thinly. “Get the lights, would you Ron?” Ron’s long arm reached out and grabbed the nearest wand, which turned out to be Harry’s. It didn’t matter, he knew it would work fine for him, and he gave it a little flick, darkness flooded the room.

In a minute or two, Ron felt Harry move, and then he felt Harry’s mouth all over his chest. He twined his fingers into Harry’s thick hair, and then tried to smooth it, even though he knew it was hopeless. And all the time he felt the fire of Harry’s mouth moving steadily down his body. He felt Harry take his erection in his hands, and he felt Harry’s breath warming it. “I’m scared, Harry,” he breathed.

“I’m not scared Ron,” Harry replied, ‘I’m with you.” And he took Ron into his mouth.

“Ahh, Harry,” groaned Ron as his back arched, his hands clenching great wads of the mattress. The muscles in his legs turned to iron as he strained to feel all that he could. He moved one arm, and felt Harry’s foot. He gave it a squeeze, and then followed the leg up to Harry’s bum. He gave that a squeeze too, and both heard and felt a kind of chuckle escape from Harry’s busy mouth. Harry sucked a little harder, and he moved a little faster, and Ron felt the most amazing kind of bubble forming inside him. He couldn’t get over how hot Harry’s mouth was, how soft his tongue was, and most of all how very, very loved that he felt. It was that thought that triggered him, and his body went rigid, and he felt his come flow from his balls into his lovers waiting mouth. And the mouth stayed on him until he was spent. His hand trailed down Harry’s leg. “You love me, Harry…” he said as his eyes closed.

“Yeah, Ron, I do. I do.”

Hermione gave a little wave with the two fingers she had just stopped licking, turned around and walked to her fallen robes. She bent straight over from the waist to retrieve it, so that her bottom jutted out nicely.

“Zut,” breathed Fleur. Hermione gave her bottom a little shake.

“Nice arse, ‘Mione,” sighed Ginny. The nice arse shook again, and then it’s owner stood back up holding the robes, and began to rub them all over her front.

“This feels nice,” Hermione purred.

It did indeed look like it felt nice. Hermione had found her inner python, and the view that Fleur and Ginny had of the writhing, slithering thing was enough to set them both to shaking. “Aaahhhhhh…’ moaned Hermione as the velvet rubbed against her sex, “this feels soooo niiissssse,” she hissed.

“Ah-Hermione! Ahh…” gasped Fleur as a spasm seized her body. Ginny looked over and saw Fleur’s head thrown back, the cords of her taut, soft, neck stretched tight, her mouth open, her tongue grazing her lips while she gasped for the air that just did not seem available.

“OH, FLEUR!” screamed Ginny as she went rigid for a moment, and then melted, almost. The intimate connection of the Bond did allow them to feel the intense emotions of one another, but it wasn’t the same as actually touching, and being touched. When Hermione came, they felt it, but rather than a fulfilling release of emotion, they experienced a kind of…storing-up of it. Fleur and Ginny were beginning to get, “a bit on edge”.

“Sooo nice,” Hermione purred as she took the step that got her to the bed. She spread the robe out, and then crawled up on top of it on her hands and knees. Her arms slid underneath her as she lowered her face onto the red velvet. Then her hair spread out in a great circle of rich brown silk all around her. Her hands slowly rubbed up and down the inside of her thighs, her knees well apart. Fleur and Ginny had a splendid view of that soft, round, bottom, and the now very wet brown down thinly scattered over her pussy.

F: “She can’t”

G: “She couldn’t”

F: “Mon Dieu, I hope she does.”

She did.

Hermione’s hands slowly traveled up her thighs into the moist heat that waited for them, then gently kneaded the swollen, soft, flesh, and swirled the damp curls in their path.

“Er-my-nee, ma chere?” enquired Fleur in a very hoarse voice.

“Oooh, oh- yes, yes Fleur, my little flower?” Hermione answered as her fingers gently rubbed a very nice spot that they had found.

“You do know zat you air a veeshush beetch, do you not?”

“Oui, ma belle Fleur. I am, but you love me.”

“Zat is true, je t’aime beucoup.” Fleur purred.

“Kill me,” said Ginny.

“I will,” Hermione answered, and several fingers found their way inside her, “OOhh, YES, yes, Ginny, unhhh. Ginny, ohh Ginny!” Hermione’s hips took up a slow and steady rhythm, and her hands and fingers followed the rhythm, and her breathing grew loud and harsh. Her bottom began to quiver. Fleur and Hermione could just make out, over the sound of Hermione’s breathing, and their own, a sort of squishy-wet sound.

F: “Make her stop, Ginny, I cannot stand this.”

“Oh YES, YES YES!” screamed Hermione, and the rhythm picked up.

G: “You want her to stop?”

“AH, AH, ah, AH!”

F: “Never, never, never, never…”

“AH – AH – AH – OHHH , my sweet, sweet loves, I love you sooo…..”

“You are killing me, ‘Mione” gasped Ginny.

“Moi aussi,” panted Fleur.

“You’re both welcome,” said Hermione softly. “I brought you a flower, my lovers. A ‘rose du chatte.’ ”

Fleur gasped.

“Fleur?” asked Ginny.

“Pussy-rose,” translated Fleur breathlessly.

“Oh, oh dear…”

“And she’s blooming, just for you…” added Hermione huskily.

G: “She’s going to kill us again…”

F: “Mon Dieu, I hope so…”

She did.

Hermione’s fingers slowly spread open her outer lips, sweeping aside the honey-slicked hair. And the rose did indeed bloom. The deep red and glistening center of her pulsed like a heartbeat as her breathing slowed. “I hope you like her,” whispered Hermione, “she does so love you both…”

And they couldn’t do a thing about it.

Ron’s lips flowed over the head of Harry’s straining penis. Harry’s eyes fluttered in the dark, and he ran his fingers through Ron’s thick hair. “It’s so warm in your mouth, Ron, so… ahh.” Ron marveled at the velvety texture on his tongue, and it was sort of like Harry’s mouth was still on him, still sucking him. He moaned softly with the thought, and Harry arched into him further. “So good…” breathed Harry, “feels so good…”

Neither of them was ever able to recall specific events. They were never able, even in their own minds, to deliver the kind of play-by-play that had accompanied the locker room boasting they did in their previous lives. The vulgar stories of conquest that their teammates still indulged in as they played the endless, mindless, heartless, meaningless, game of whose dick was bigger, of who had the highest score; Harry’s cock was just the right size for Ron, as his was for Harry. Because they were part of each other now, and they really were in love.

“Ron, Ron! I’m gonna come!” Harry choked out between breaths. Ron was counting on that, and he could feel Harry’s cock pulse in his mouth as the first jet of hot, thick liquid spurted forcefully in his mouth. He swallowed it all, and squeezed Harry’s tight bum hard enough to leave a pair of prints that lasted a few days. Harry filled his mouth again, and he swallowed that too.

Then they both died.

Eventually, the life flowed back into them. They had found each other in the dark, and Harry had settled naturally into the crook of Ron’s arm, and they were like that when they woke up. Harry felt loved and safe in Ron’s embrace. Ron felt exactly the same way, Harry was slender, but he was an extremely powerful man, and he had always, always taken care of Ron. “I can still taste you, Harry,” Ron said simply.

“Know what you mean,” came the reply.

“I dunno why I always imagined it would taste sort of, nasty or something. Just reminds me of you, kind of a concentrated ‘Harry” sort of taste.”

“Know what you mean,” Harry said again, “but imagine if it were Pattershaw.” Ron’s gut gave a violent lurch, and he leapt from the bed.

“Good GOD, Harry! That wasn’t funny,” bellowed Ron, and he found a wand and restored the lights. The bed was a bit of a mess, Harry’s hair was even more untidy than usual, and he was, to Ron’s considerable fury, laughing his arse off.

He finally stopped and caught his breath, and then he looked Ron in the eye, “Was too.” Ron felt a snigger fighting it’s way up his throat. He fought it, he really did, but it was no use. Because it really was funny.

“PPPFFFBBBTTTT!” spat Ron, and then they both were laughing their arses off. “Okay, it was funny; gross, but funny.” Pattershaw was a beater on their team, he was bulky, ugly as sin, mean as hell, and generally hated everyone and everything save quidditch. In plain words, he was a right bastard, but he was a damn good beater.

“Let’s see what the girls have provided in the way of refreshment, shall we?” They addressed the cartons laid out on the table.

“This one’s cold,” said Ron as he opened one and pulled out two large bottles of brown ale. “They even remembered we like the beer cold,” he said as he handed one to Harry. Ron flipped the top off with his thumb. Harry raised his eyebrows, and then did the same thing. Boys will be boys, after all. The beer went quickly, and they realized that they were starving, but they weren’t worried. They knew their sisters would have thought of that too. There were thick ham and turkey sandwiches on Fleur’s good bread, some pickles, a big bag of crisps, and a small pastry with a really sappy smiley-face on it. There was also an envelope. A red envelope. It began to smoke. Their eyes grew round, and they felt a trickle of fear. They’d had howlers before, and they vividly recalled every single one of them. Ron shrugged and picked it up; there was no escaping it. Ron tore it open.

“RONALD WEASLEY!” roared his mother’s voice, shaking the room around them. He and Harry stood gape-mouthed with terror. “HARRY POTTER!” the voice echoed again. They couldn’t help it, they purely shook with fear. Dragons fled from Molly Weasley when she took that tone. Then the bell-like laughter of their sisters filled the air, and Ginny’s voice sounded in a normal tone. “I’ve been working on that one, boys. Do please tell me what you thought. We knew you’d get hungry before the time expired. Don’t worry about us, we’ll find something to do.”

Fleur’s lovely voice came next, “Cher freres, I hope you enjoy your lunch, or whatever it is, we will have a very special meal for you when you get out. I hope you like your room, as well. Au’voir.”

“Well,” began the voice they knew so well, “I surely hope that you two have come to your senses and talked to each other. Sometimes you have to take a little risk, to gain a great reward. Surely after all you’ve been through together you can tell each other a simple, basic truth.” They smiled with the memories that Hermione’s ‘lecture voice’ brought back. She resumed speaking, and her tone was much warmer, “Do let it out… it will be fine, you know I’m right. You know I am…”

“It’s God’s own truth you’ve never lead us wrong, ‘Mione,” said Harry as he put his hand on Ron’s. They thought it was finished, but Ginny came back.

“OI! You two…when we get back, if you boys haven’t sorted this out; I am going to Beat-The-Shit-Out –Of-You-Both.”

This time the prickle of fear was profound. They knew full well she meant every syllable of it, and they knew she could damned well do it.

And they wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it.

Hermione flopped over onto her side, and stretched like a cat. A very content, well-rubbed, slicky-wet cat. She stood up and smiled at the sight before her, Fleur and Ginny, true to their words, were still standing with their arms at their sides. They were drenched in sweat and some other wet things as well. Their lips were puffy, their skin was splotchy and red, and their hair was raving against its confinement. Hermione felt that it was the single most beautiful sight that she had ever seen. They were uncomfortable, far more than a bit on edge and they had put up with her outrageous behavior and even wholeheartedly joined in. Hermione was completely, hopefully, endlessly in love with them.

But she wasn’t done with them yet.

Hermione’s face changed.

“Oh dear God…” breathed Ginny.

“She can’t possibly…” gasped Fleur.

“She damned sure can,” said Ginny in wonder.

Hermione had reconnected with the python, and she moved very close to Fleur and Ginny. A warm cloud of …*Hermione*… scent joined with the hot scent from Fleur and Ginny, and they all breathed deeply for a little while. Hermione smiled at them, and they felt relief wash over them, she was going to let them loose at last.

She wasn’t.

“Time for dessert!” Hermione chirped.

“Whaddayamean?” blurted Ginny.

“What was all that, then, all that ‘rose du chatte’?” asked Fleur.

“Oh, that. Did you like her?” They nodded dumbly. “Oh, I’m so glad, because, well, that was a sort of confession. I have not been completely honest with you, and I can no longer hide the truth.” Fleur and Ginny had no clue where this was headed, as they all knew perfectly well that it just was not possible for them to lie at all to one another. But she did have their interest.

Hermione’s hands wandered back into the hot, wet place between her legs. “You see,” she said hoarsely, “I don’t really teach at Hogwarts at all. When I’m supposedly there, I’m really here; thinking about the two of you.” Her hands kept moving. “And, well; playing with my rose… and things.” She brought her hands up in front of their faces; they were shining with Hermione-honey. “And I do it, every-single-day, because you two make me so-damn-HOT! She wiped her hands across their faces, smiled, and turned and skipped back to the table.

F: “Magnifique! Simplement…magnifique…”

G: “She is a Goddess… ma Fleur, I love her. And I am going to explode.”

F: “Moi aussi, chere Gin… moi aussi. She is lying of course.”

G:”I know, but I kind of wish she weren’t…”


Hermione opened a box on the table, and produced the spell-o molds that Fleur and Ginny had given her. They were precisely what Fleur and Ginny had supposed was in the box, but they were different somehow, and in a moment they realized how. The molds were very realistically shaped, since they had used themselves as a pattern, but the formerly bright colors of the spell-o had been changed into a perfect match for their own skin. Hermione had a fine eye for detail. She carried the plates over and set them on the bed and then stretched out beside them. She sprawled carelessly over the bed with one leg bent at a sharp angle, the knee high in the air as she lay on her side. Which did of course render her pink bits perfectly visible, maddeningly so, and then she turned her face to Fleur’s spell-o breasts while her hair stroked her legs and caressed her breasts idly.

“Oh, ma belle Fleur, you are so beautiful….” she whispered.

G: ”She’s talking to your knockers, Fleur”

F: “She will not stop at talking, you know that…”

G: “She is going to kill us, really, really, kill us.”

She was, near enough…

And they couldn’t do a thing about it.

“I need a drink, Harry. A big one…” gasped Ron as his breathing slowly returned to normal.

“No shit,” agreed Harry, and he shuddered.

“Really, Harry; you have no idea how strong Ginny is. It’s…It’s-“

“Purely unnatural,” finished Harry. Ron nodded; but privately he thought that Gin was a hell of a lot stronger than that.

“Well, the ale has refilled, and there’s water,” Harry said.

“Water first, my mouth’s that dry. God! That scared the piss out of me Har.” Now that he mentioned it…

“Catch, Ron,” Harry tossed him a bottle of water and headed to the bathroom.

“…like a bleeding racehorse…” Ron thought absently… “uh-oh,” he thought. “For God’s sake Harry! Get a move on! My back teeth are floating in here!” Ron heard a flushing sound, and passed a grinning Harry on the way to the loo.

“…racehorse,” finished Harry’s thought. His eyes lit on the package from the wine-merchant, and he opened it while the sound of Ron’s pissing slowed to a halt. “ ‘Struth!’ “ he said softly.

“What is it Harry? Bottle of port?” asked Ron.

“Hardly,” said Harry reverently. He showed the bottle to Ron. Ron’s mouth fell open.

“Is that…” he began, but he could not finish the thought.

“In fact it is,” breathed Harry in wonder.

This sacred object that they beheld in wonder was nothing less than a bonded bottle of Algernon Ogden’s personal stock of the Original Firewhisky. It was over three hundred years old. The Holy Grail of the Drinking Man. “There’s a note,” said Ron, pointing at a card that had fallen to the table. The card said simply, “To my friends Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, for a Special Occasion” – Richard. They were struck dumb.

“Good God, Harry,” said Ron when he could again speak. “That bottle is worth more than a whole team’s Firebolts. What the hell occasion is that special?”

Harry cracked the seal. He poured a small amount into each of the silver goblets. He handed one to Ron. “Best Friends,” he said, and took a tiny sip, and Ron followed suit. They simply held the satin fire of the whisky in their mouths, and allowed it to soak into their tongues, and mist up the back of their throats. It was exquisite.

“To love,” said Ron simply, and they repeated the process.

“To our Sisters,” they said together.

“We share the rest with them,” said Harry. Ron nodded in solemn agreement.

“There’s one more package,” Ron said as he opened a small parcel, a note written in Hermione’s hand fell to the table, and Ron picked it up and read it. He passed the note to Harry. It didn’t make sense to him.

”USE THIS!!! was all it said. Harry shrugged, and Ron opened the parcel all of the way, and pulled out a small tube. He read the label, flushed scarlet, and wordlessly handed it to Harry. Harry read the ornate script on the pink tube.

“Veela Lube: just a touch will do it!”

Harry blushed too, and threw it onto the bed. They looked at each other, and they both felt a prickling in their laps. They looked uncertain, hesitant… then Ron grinned, and said “Wrestle for top?”

“You’re on!” said Harry, and quick as a flash, he was on his feet. Ron approached cautiously, he was much bigger than Harry, but he knew full well that Harry was faster, and more flexible. He saw the ropy muscle of Harry’s body tense. He loved the sight, but the competitor in him wondered, just a bit, if he might not just have made a miscalculation. He mentally shrugged, and closed in on Harry.

Harry moved first, and before Ron could react, Harry had flipped him neatly onto the bed. Then Harry made the mistake of simply jumping on top of him, and Ron’s arms seized him in a grip that honestly shocked Harry with its strength. Harry felt the air squeezed out of him. “He really is almost as strong as Ginny!” thought Harry in wonder.

In that he was wrong, but his bias could excuse him. Ron was in fact approximately as strong as a run-of-the-mill Bull. Ginny was a LOT stronger than that.

It appeared for a time that Harry would simply be overpowered, but he continued to struggle, and as strong young males do when they exert themselves to the utmost, they both began to sweat. They were very good at sweating, actually, and the thing about sweat on hot, hard, muscles is that it is slick, and Ron suddenly found that what he had in his arms was an eel with a monster hard-on. The eel squirmed powerfully, and no matter how hard Ron squeezed, he simply could not keep his grasp.

From Harry’s point of view, he had been seized by a nearly hairless, oil-coated Gorilla. The hugs felt nice to both of them, but breathing was beginning to be a real concern. Ron gasped for air first, and quick as flash, Harry slid out from under him, whipped onto his back, and applied a first-class full-nelson to his lover.

It was over just that quickly. Strong as he was, Ron was done, and he knew it. “Quits!” he gasped.

Harry collapsed onto Ron’s back, and for a little while, they simply rested and gathered strength. Ron felt a rather insistent throbbing against his bum, and he handed the pink tube to Harry. It never occurred to either of them to disregard Hermione’s orders in the matter, for Hermione, in all the years that she had known and loved them, had never once led them wrong. They trusted her completely, both of them did. And they were right to do so, for Hermione really did love them both, and she was Veela, and Veela know an awful lot about love. Harry even remembered the directions, and he applied just a touch of the slippery stuff to the head of his cock, and he pressed it slowly but firmly into the tightness of Ron. He waited a moment, and felt the tightness ease just a bit. Then he slid his cock into Ron until his balls hit Ron’s buttocks.

“I WIN!” shouted Ron.

It wasn’t easy, it wasn’t even painless. But the Veela lube was a wonder, and it was them, and it was another first time ever, and Harry rhythmically, powerfully, and with increasing force, drove his cock into the hotness of the man he loved. The sound of their bodies slapping wetly together filled the room, and almost; almost - drowned out the cries of small pain, and great feeling, and just plain love that filled all of the spaces in between the endless slap,slap,slap of their need and want for each other.

But not quite.

Hermione’s lips sucked the spell-o nipple into her mouth. Fleur and Ginny could see now and again the pink tip of Hermione’s tongue as it traced a circle around the softly jiggling breast. “AAAaaaaahhhhhhh-unnh, Her-my-neeee…” moaned Fleur.

G: “What does that feel like?”

H: “Mmmmm, grrrrr- you’ll see…”

Ginny died.

Hermione, stretched her mouth wide, and forced the bulk of the glistening, jiggling spell-o mound of Fleur’s breast into her mouth. “AAHH-a-un-AAHHH! HERMIONE ! ah..” screamed Fleur. Hermione’s mouth slowly let the shining spell-o breast slip back onto the plate as she stared into Fleur’s eyes, just as slowly, she drew it back into her mouth. She just kept doing that, and she kept staring into Fleur’s eyes, until the time that it slid into her mouth, and never reappeared.

Fleur died too...

Ginny’s eyes opened just in time to see Hermione suck the last bit of spell-o breast into her mouth. One perfect, beautiful, breast remained on the plate. Ginny could not tear her eyes away as Hermione slithered down the bed until her mouth was suspended over the gelatin …*Ginny*….

She watched without breath as Hermione gazed longingly at the plate of Ginny so close to her panting mouth. Her eyes grew wide, as Hermione slowly traced the cleft on the plate’s offering with a single finger. Hermione uttered a soft “ooh”, and from her wet, red, perfect lips fell the most profound LIE in all of human history. “Ginny darling, you’re a bit dry, you poor thing. Let me help you.”

Ginny watched as Hermione let saliva drip from her mouth onto the Ginny on the plate. She could feel the hot and slippery stuff wash over her clit, and trail slowly down her cleft.

“Hermione…Granger…” breathed Ginny.

“Yes, my sweet?” purred the reply. Hermione stared into Ginny’s eyes as the saliva continued its silvery path onto the Spell-o clit.

“You are, beyond the slightest hope of redemption, the most wanton and salacious slut, that has ever drawn a breath on this earth…”

“Perhaps,” purred Hermione, “but you want me….”

“More than the blood in my veins….”

The glistening mouth lowered onto the mound, and Ginny died again.

Hermione purred….

“Harry?” asked a voice in the dark.

“Yeah, Ron…”

“My arse… it’s a bit… sore.”

“Yeah, Ron… mine as well.”

“It’s not so bad…”

“No, Ron… it’s not so bad at all.”

“Smart girl, Hermione…”

“Yeah, Ron…she is.”

“Harry?” the voice was sort of… fading out

“Yeah, Ron…”

“Is your…”

“Yeah, Ron… it’s a bit sore as well. And it’s not so bad either.”

“Good.”

“Harry?”

“Go to sleep Ron… I love you too.”

“ ‘s nice, innit Har.”

“Yeah, Ron…’s really nice….”

“Night Harry…”

“See you in the morning, luv.”

And he would. And that was nice too.

F: “Ginny…”

G: “Yes…”

F: “Is she done with us?”

G: “I’ve been afraid to look…”

F: “Look, I beg you, chere Ginny, you are zee strongest of us all…”

G: “I love you Fleur, but there is simply no fucking way that I am going to open my eyes.”

F: “I wore zee naughty apron pour vous, ma belle, I kneaded zee dough…”

G: “That’s what got us into this fix… you’re not helping your case. And the French accent doesn’t work on me when I can’t see you.”

F: “Merde…”

G: “I’m still not looking. Suppose she doesn’t let us go…”

F: “She can’t do anything else, c’est n’est pas possible…”

G: “The hell she can’t…”

H: “ *giggle*”

F&G "Oh dear God…”

But they had to look…

Hermione had cleaned up a bit, she was by no means right out of a bath, but at least she wasn’t dressed in soaking wet jeans and a sodden jumper. She was dressed in nothing but Hermione. She had piled all of the pillows into the corner of the bed, and wedged them between the headboard and the wall, she was propped up on them, and she was as beautiful as the dawning sun. Fleur and Ginny simply could not believe that the heat was rising further within them, but it was.

She was smiling like a cat lying in the sun with her arms stretched out, her legs carelessly apart, and beside her on the bed was what remained of the spell-o molds.

“There’s a little bit left,” she said huskily, “do you want some?”

F: “She will let us go…”

Hermione’s hands began to move over her body.

G: “She won’t…”

Hermione’s fingers slipped into the wet between her legs, and her mouth opened just a bit…”ooh-“

F: “Non, she won’t…”

She did…

The room absolutely exploded with wet clothes and hair bindings. Hermione had just an instant to wonder whether she had perhaps pushed things a bit too far and then she disappeared under a pile of frustrated lovers and hair that was flailing about with an unbridled joy in its freedom.

Hermione purred….

“We need to get home, and get things ready for this evening, my loves,” said Fleur, from somewhere deep in a silk-covered pile of well-loved womanhood.

Said pile slowly resolved itself into Fleur, Hermione, and Ginny. With the synchrony born of their love and the magic of this room, they stood together, stretched, and smiled at one another. Just because they were together.

Hermione’s face changed…

But it was the lecture-face.

“Now then,” she began briskly, “I hope that the two of you remember how you felt while I was enjoying myself, and you couldn’t do a thing about it.” They both assured her that to forget such a thing was well past the realm of the possible. Fleur and Ginny both had to struggle not to see the “rose du chatte” bloom every time they closed their eyes. “And I also hope that we can all remember to be more careful in future. Well then, lesson learned. Do either of you have any questions?”

Ginny was looking at her feet…the very picture of contrition… and that should have been all the warning that Hermione required. Ginny poked out her lower lip, looked up a Hermione through the curtain of her hair, and asked in a very soft voice…” ‘Mione, may I have a hug?”

Hermione smiled, Ginny was just so cute when she did that, and she wrapped her arms around Ginny, and Ginny hugged her back.

And the trap was sprung.

Ginny lifted Hermione into the air, and sat on the edge of the bed, holding Hermione firmly across her lap. Hermione still hadn’t quite caught on, but that was about to change. She looked up with the beginnings of a smile on her face, a smile that faded as she realized that Fleur was standing in front of her idly tapping the back of a hairbrush against her leg.

“There is one more lesson to be learned, ‘Ermione, our love. And that is what happens to such luscious bottoms when they wiggle themselves so enticingly, and remain beyond reach…”

Hermione’s eyes grew round.

“You wouldn’t…”

Fleur took a step.

“You couldn’t”…”

She raised the brush.

“You Mustn’t !”

They did.

And she couldn’t do a thing about it.

“Dinner will be ready at nine O’clock,” announced Fleur as she entered the drawing room. She collapsed onto the couch by Ginny and laid her head on Gin’s shoulder. Ginny kissed her forehead and softly stroked her hair. “That should give the boys time to get ready for dinner.”

“Boys don’t need an hour to get ready for dinner,” said Ginny.

“But they may be tired… I hope they are tired,” said Fleur wistfully.

“Look,” said Ginny patiently, “they-are-boys. Boys do not need an hour to get ready for dinner. I hope they’re tired too. I hope they confessed their love to each other and made love for the whole day. I hope they cannot sit down. BUT, boys do not need an hour to get ready for dinner. Trust me.”

“Vicious bitches, both of you,” snapped Hermione.

Hermione was standing by the fireplace, she was stark naked, and the room was cool except right by the fire. Her bottom glowed red in the firelight and Fleur and Ginny thought that it looked quite lovely. It really did. Hermione walked into the shadows in front of Fleur and Ginny as they sat on the couch. Her bottom glowed red in the shadows. Fleur and Ginny thought that it looked quite lovely, and it really did, but it hurt like hell.

“You should get dressed, lover,” cooed Fleur, “the boys will be released soon.”

“I’m not putting on clothes.”

“You mean you’re going to let the boys see you starkers?” asked Ginny.

“Why the hell not,” said Hermione, “they’re my brothers. It shouldn’t be a big deal. Besides, they’re so into each other that they won’t even notice.”

Fleur and Hermione doubted that. They really did.

“Ma chere, ma petite ‘Mione, it would not be kind of you,” Fleur told her.

“Are you saying that the sight of my nude body is unkind?” asked Hermione crisply.

“Hell no!” said Ginny emphatically, “She means that it wouldn’t be fair to expose them to your naked body when they are so new in their own relationship. You know they both care for you, you know that. It might just, well, confuse them, that’s all.”

“I don’t care. My bum hurts. The two of you hurt me,” Hermione’s lower lip poked out a little. She didn’t do it often, but that just made it more effective when she did.

Fleur and Ginny began to feel a little bit guilty. They had spanked her pretty hard.

Ginny tried though. “You deserved it. You tortured us.”

“I teased you. I showed you my most intimate self, I played a wanton slut to show you how much I want you, how the thought of you makes me so wet and hot. And I did give myself to you both in the end… didn’t I?” Hermione said softly.

G: “Damn, she’s good…”

F: “The very finest… we are undone, Ginny.”

G: “Yeah… but it was worth it to see that arse bounce around and turn red while you whacked it with the brush…”

F: “Certainment. It is such a lovely bottom.”

G: “Merde! There go these knickers. Screw it, I’m through with ‘em.”

H: “*giggle*

“You did it again, didn’t you Hermione?” said Ginny in wonder.

“I try. Now you two come and help me get dressed, and then we’ll discuss Ginny’s knickers,” said Hermione, smiling.

“Perhaps it would be better not to mention Ginny’s knickers until the boys have gone home,” suggested Fleur.

“Ginny doesn’t wear knickers,” Ginny informed them, “let’s go doctor ‘Mione’s bum. We still have to wake up the boys, and I have to warn you, it might not be pretty. Not pretty at all.”

“What do you mean?” asked Hermione.

“You’ll find out. Come on, we’ve got your arse to deal with,” Ginny headed for their room.

“Do you know what she meant?” asked Hermione. Fleur shrugged. Fleur was very good at shrugging, but they didn’t have time to go into it.

They had a very red and sore arse to deal with first.

“You really did get a little carried away, my pets,” said Hermione as Fleur gently rubbed Veela Balm on her red backside.

“Oui. J’en suis desolee, ma amour. It was the ‘rose du chatte’. It drove me mad. I could not help it. But you are fortunate Ginny did not hold the brush, n’est pas?”

Even Hermione’s inflamed arse paled at the thought of that. “Ginny, joy of my heart?” she said.

“Yes, Hermione, you sweet-cheeked slut?”

“Flatterer! No Gin, I’m serious. I want you to promise me something, on our love.”

“I’m not falling for that again. Not today, anyway.”

“Fair enough, a bargain then?” asked Hermione.

“I’m listening, Hermione of the fire-red arse.”

“Quite so. Gin, if you promise me to never, ever, spank my bum with a hairbrush, I will agree to suck your toes for a period of one hour, a total of ten times over the remaining days of this year, at any time you say, not more than once per week. Just as long as it is either here, or in our Bonding Room, and I do not have to miss any prior obligations to do so.”

“Done,” said Ginny instantly.

“Oh, I expected you to bargain harder than that. I was willing to go to 15,” giggled Hermione.

“You only said, ‘hairbrush’.”

“Merde…”

“What time is it?” asked Ginny.

“Half- past seven ,” answered Fleur, with a smile on her face.

“Crap. Okay. Hermione?”

“Yes,” she answered fearfully.

“See you for dessert.”

“Fuck.”

“You’re close,” said Ginny, grinning.

The Veela Balm was quite effective, and Hermione was able to wear the silk gown without much discomfort at all. Veela know a good bit about that sort of thing too.

The women assembled outside the door of the sealed room just before 8:00. They were radiant, they were each wearing beautiful gowns made for them. Hermione’s was a deep red, Ginny’s a rich green, and Fleur’s a soft gray-blue that went well her eyes. They wore no make-up, which would have been like drawing a mustache on a DaVinci painting, but their hair was beautifully put up, and ruthlessly restrained. They did not care to share the hair with anyone.

“The boys will be happy that we are wearing their presents,” said Fleur, “you are both so beautiful, I… merde.”

“I told you to lose the knickers, Fleur,” said Ginny, “I hope they’re cotton.”

“Alas, silk,” she said sadly.

“Well, don’t worry too much. I’ve got a feeling it won’t be a problem much longer,” said Ginny grimly.

“What are you talking about?” asked Hermione.

“You’ll find out. It beggars description. But you are going to wish that you were wearing sweat suits and gas masks, any minute now.”

Fleur and Hermione looked puzzled, but they knew Ginny was done explaining. Besides, the clock had just struck 8:00. There was a shimmer on the wall in front of them.

“Take two steps back,” commanded Ginny. They did, but they didn’t know why.

Ginny laid hold of the doorknob, her face set.

“Shouldn’t you knock, or something?” asked Fleur.

“I’m not gonna open it far, hang on.”

Ginny opened the door a crack, and fanned her hand towards Fleur and Hermione.

“What are you do… ugghhhhhh,” Fleur pinched her nose firmly shut. In another moment, Hermione had done the same. Ginny softly, but firmly closed the door.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” gasped Fleur.

“Would you have believed me?” Fleur and Hermione shook their heads. “Follow me, lovers. It’s time for ‘Brother 101’ “ They followed her to their room, where Ginny immediately began carefully removing her dress.

“Gin, dear, there isn’t time,” protested Hermione.

“This is business, not pleasure. Peel’em off girls, class is in session,” commanded Ginny. They felt it wise to comply. In a few moments, they had re-dressed in jeans and denim shirts, Ginny insisted that they wear trainers as well. “Right,” said Ginny, “sit on the bed and pay attention. Time is short.” They did.

“What we have here,” she began, “is two strong, athletic males in their physical prime. We really hope that they have been indulging in vigorous carnal activity. Are you with me so far?” They nodded. “From the whiff I got, the mission was a success. Those two have been humping like rabbits.”

Fleur and Hermione stared.

“I grew up with six brothers in a small house, most of them had a lot of girlfriends, there were a couple of boys as well but I’m not here to gossip. I am trying to save your sanity.”

They thought that she had to be kidding, but she looked serious, and Ginny wasn’t good at that kind of trick.

“You remember the smell?” They nodded, and tried to forget it. “That was nothing, it’s much worse inside. Trust me.” Fleur and Hermione decided that they had better do just that. “We left them with food, we left them with beer, wine, and cake. And Hermione put such lovely charms on them all that they had all that they could eat and drink. It was nice, but these are not only guys, they’re Jocks. It is going to be ugly, loves.” They nodded, but they didn’t look real happy.

“Let’s go, if you have to puke, just let it go. It won’t be noticed.” Ginny set off down the hall with a resolute expression. Fleur and Hermione followed. But they didn’t look real happy.

Ginny gave them a look, and swung wide the door. “Cover your nose and mouth with your hands. Do NOT breathe through your mouth. I might want to kiss you later.” That complied with that order too, an in a moment they were very glad indeed.

The room was a shambles, empty bottles spilled over the table onto the floor, and half-eaten sandwiches were scattered at random. Two of the chairs were overturned, a lamp was broken, and one of the legs was snapped off of the bed. Oddly, a bottle was set in the precise center of the table, and neatly flanked by the two goblets. In the middle of an amazing tangle of sweat-soaked sheets, Ron and Harry slept like babies. Big, sweaty, stinky, babies. They were holding hands and snoring like sawmills. Ginny called a retreat, and they reformed in the hall and closed the door. Ginny smiled. “They are so sweet, they hardly made a mess at all, and did you see the way they had the cups set in the middle of the table? They are just so sentimental!” Fleur and Hermione stared at her.

“Perhaps the stench ‘as rotted ‘er brain,” suggested Fleur. (the accent got thick at times of stress)

“What the hell happened in there?” asked Hermione in wonder.

“They’re in love,” said Ginny, “didn’t you see how careful they were?”

“You have got to be fucking joking,” said Hermione, “that room is a pigsty, and the smell!” Ginny grinned.

“Told you. Welcome to brothers!” said Ginny laughing. Fleur and Hermione were not laughing.

“What next?” asked Hermione.

“Do we want to be nice?” asked Ginny. Fleur nodded, Hermione shrugged. Hermione did not like messes.

“Non-verbal cleaning spells. I’ll go in first, you get what I miss. Don’t worry about the clothes, just vanish them. But do not do anything about the bed or anything on it. You don’t want to see what’s under those sheets. Oh, and watch out for the bottle and the goblets, they’re important to them. Let’s go.” Ginny vanished into the room.

“She is completely fearless,” said Fleur in awe. “Merde!”

“Undies?” asked Hermione. Fleur nodded. “Me too, isn’t Gin marvelous?” They held their breath and followed in Ginny’s wake.

It didn’t take too long, the room was not large, and it really wasn’t as bad as it seemed at first glance. For Fleur and Hermione it was the shock. And the smell. In a matter of moments the air was tolerable if not fresh. Harry and Ron slept through it all.

“They do look sweet,” said Hermione softly as she looked at them.

“Oui,” agreed Fleur.

“They sure do,” said Ginny, “never tell them that. Never.”

“Why not?” asked Fleur.

“They’re our brothers. It’s against the law to be nice to them unless it’s something serious. Then you turn into their mother. It’s complicated, but I’m used to it.” They nodded because they couldn’t think of anything else to do. “Showtime. Leave the room or cover your eyes.” They left. In just a moment they heard Ginny say, “Aquamente Froi!”

“AAARRGGHHHH!!!!”

Ginny rushed out and closed the door, doubled over laughing.

“Did you just conjure ice-water onto them?” asked Hermione. Ginny nodded, she was laughing too hard to speak, but she soon stopped.

She looked at the clock on the wall. 8:30. “OI! You two. Dinner at 9:30, if you’re late, we’ll start without you.” Incredibly to Fleur and Hermione, the sound of hysterical laughter boomed throughout the room.

“You’re the best sister ever, Gin!” yelled Ron.

“Ever!” agreed Harry. Fleur and Hermione stared at her in wonder.

Ginny shrugged.

“They’re our brothers,” she said simply.

“We obviously have a lot to learn about this, but didn’t you say it wouldn’t take them long to get ready?”

“It won’t, even having to conjure clothes it will only take about… oops. TAKE A SHOWER, YOU TWO, OR YOU KNOW WHAT’S COMING !”

“That covers the big stuff.” Ginny headed for their room.

“Where are you going?” asked Fleur.

“To take a quick shower, that’s what the hour is for. You might consider it as well.” She kept going. Fleur delicately sniffed Hermione’s shirt sleeve.

“Eww.” They hurried after Ginny.

“MERDE! Merde, merde, merde, just bloody merde,” said Fleur in disgust.

Ginny and Hermione looked at her expectantly; it was obviously not another knicker incident. And it was a very unusual outburst for her.

“I forgot about the Bubblehead charm,” she said in disgust. Silence greeted this revelation.

“Oops,” said Ginny at last. “Oh, well. It wouldn’t have helped our clothes, and you have to admit that it was an experience.”

They did indeed.

The girls showered as quickly as they could, taking hardly any time at all with each other’s soapy bodies. They had to resort to magic to freshen their hair, there just wasn’t time to do it the fun way. When they had finished dressing it was about ten past nine.

“I hate having to rush getting ready,” said Hermione.

“We don’t ever have to do it again,” assured Ginny, “from now on, we make them wait. That’s another rule of being a sister.”

“I like that one,” said Fleur.

“Most of them are pretty good now,” agreed Ginny, “but you have to watch out if they start being sweet. It’s going to take a little time for you two to catch on, but you’ll manage. Ready?” Fleur and Hermione indicated that they were and they walked to the drawing room together, and entered three abreast. Ron and Harry were sitting together on the couch, they weren’t holding hands or snogging, but they did look happy. They were studying the detail of the engravings on the goblets.

The women smiled, and the men looked up and saw them. The boy’s jaws dropped.

G: “If you’d been naked, ‘Mione, they would have swallowed their tongues.”

Ron and Harry stood, and stared. “Harry, didn’t I tell you they were the most beautiful women in the world?”

“Yeah, Ron…you did. You’re not as thick as you pretend.”

H: “Is this a trick?”

G: “No. They’re being sentimental, it’s okay. Well, it’s really better than that. We’ll see.”

F: “I will never understand them…”

G: “No, you won’t. But this might not be as hard as I feared…they’ve changed. Act natural, I’ll let you know if you need to worry. They aren’t going to do anything much with us dressed like this, and just now we are on a pedestal. Enjoy it. It doesn’t happen all that much…but it *is* nice when it does.”

“Been waiting long?” asked Ginny.

“Not too long, listen-“ said Harry, but he couldn’t seem to find the words, and turned to Ron in mute appeal. Ron came through.

“Thanks,” was all that he said.

And it was enough.

“You’re welcome you two great gits,” said Ginny, “come and help us get dinner on the table.”

The meal, even by Fleur’s standards, was exceptional. The mood was light, Harry and Ron were comfortable with each other again, and they all enjoyed the very best part of having brothers and sisters. They were a family, and they really did love one another, and the knowledge that they also needed each other, and could in fact depend surely on one another, laid the seal on the whole thing.

They were back in the drawing room after dinner, when Fleur asked if anyone wanted a drink.

“We’ve got that covered,” said Harry, “just get three glasses for you girls.”

Ginny was back in a trice with three crystal glasses, and she set them on the table by the two goblets. Harry handed the bottle to Fleur, because he knew that she would realize what it was.

“Mon Dieu…” she breathed, “is this what was in the package from the wine-seller?” They nodded.

“What is it?” asked Hermione.

“Firewhisky. Very old, very special, firewhisky. I have never held a bottle of this before,” Fleur said reverently.

“I don’t much like firewhisky,” said Hermione doubtfully.

“You’ll like this,” said Ron, Harry, and Fleur in concert. Fleur offered the bottle back to Ron and Harry, but they gave her the honor. Fleur loved them both just a little bit more, then, and she carefully poured a small amount into each glass. The rich amber color showed through the crystal and a thin smoke began to rise from the glasses, filling the room with a rich smell that was hard to pin down. Fleur handed the glasses round, and they all stood.

Harry raised his glass, and they all looked at one another…

F: “Just take a tiny sip, and hold it in your mouth. You will not need to swallow it, trust me, ma cheres.” And of course they did.

Harry never said anything, but after a minute or so, he raised the glass to his lips and everyone followed suit.

H “Oh. This is nice…sooo niiccccee”

F&G: “Don’t start that stuff, dammit.”

H: “Sorry, it’s just that this stuff is…”

F&G: “nice” Hermione nodded.

“Fleur, about these goblets…“ Harry started.

“They are yours, mon Freres, a small gift from your sisters.”

“Thanks,” said Ron.

“Now then, what the hell kind of magic did you three use to trap us in that room?” asked Harry, and it was the same old Harry as always.

“I never would have believed it,” said Ron, “three girls, spelling up something that Harry and I couldn’t crack? Not possible. You lot drugged us or something.” And it was the same old Ron, as well.

“We can’t explain it,” Hermione said, “this magic is simply a part of us now. And we can’t talk about it much either.”

They didn’t understand, but they knew that tone, so they passed on it.

“Fair enough,” said Harry. He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Gin, can you drop ‘round our practice pitch about 5 tomorrow afternoon. We’ve got something to show you.”

“Sure, love to have a fly, anyway. What’s up?”

“You’ll have to wait and see. Ron and I have a couple secrets as well. Fleur, Hermione, you’re welcome to come too, and we can all go out for dinner afterwards.”

“That would be wonderful.”

Ron yawned hugely. “Firewhisky’s made me sleepy. Let’s go home, Harry.”

“Good idea. Girls… thanks again, for everything,” Ron nodded in agreement. The boys picked up their goblets and looked at the bottle.

“Leave it,” said Ron, “it belongs here.” They were headed for the door, when Hermione pulled Ron aside. She handed him a small package.

“Use this, it will help.” The package contained a tube of Veela Balm. Hermione noticed everything. Ron didn’t even blush.

“Thanks Sis, you’re a wonder.” Harry and Ron walked down the path and blinked out; they really didn’t feel up to the walk, not even on such a fine night.

“Brothers are nice to have, I think,” said Fleur.

“Most of the time,” agreed Ginny, ‘but-“

“Never tell them,” cut in Hermione and Fleur. Ginny grinned.

“I knew you’d catch on. Let’s leave the mess, I’m that tired. See you in a bit.” Ginny headed for bed.

End