Fans of Harry Potter Femmeslash

About Her (Luna/Cho G)

redbeargrl@gmail.com — Sun, 07 Jun 2009 00:37:22 GMT

Title: About Her
By: Bridget McKennitt
Pairing: Luna/Cho
Rating: G
Word Count: 528
Author's Notes: Written for colorful_sin who wanted Luna/Cho, dancing in the dark.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and other companies. They are used here without permission, and for entertainment purposes only. No challenge or infringement upon the copyright is intended, nor should any be inferred.

About Her

Art: Hermione/Luna, R

redbeargrl@gmail.com — Sun, 10 May 2009 04:29:16 GMT

A Taste of Innocence

Pairings/Characters: Hermione/Luna
Rating: R
Warnings/Kinks: femmeslash, NWS, nudity

Author/Artist's Notes: This is my first venture into digital art and that pairing.I enjoyed it greatly and I hope you will too. It was drawn as a gift for ivylady for the 2009 April Fool's Fest.

A Taste of Innocence

redbeargrl@gmail.com — Thu, 07 May 2009 04:14:14 GMT

Hey all,

I'm sorry if this isn't allowed, I'll take it down immediately. Hopefully it will help shippers connect!

I don’t know how many of you have a DreamWidth, but I wanted to let you know that my friend has created a community for Harry Potter fans in Canada. http://hp-canada.dreamwidth.org/profile

Also, for those of you that are new to DreamWidth, there is a friending meme here: http://lord-harrymort.livejournal.com/37219.html

Don’t have DreamWidth yet? No problem, for those that want codes you can go to this LJ community dw_codeshare. Those of us that have codes will leave a comment with what we want in return (fic, graphics etc…) and those of you that need codes can check out the comments and see which request you might be able to fulfill in order to get a code in return.

Hope to see you over there!

Femmeslash welcome!

redbeargrl@gmail.com — Tue, 17 Feb 2009 02:39:05 GMT

Let's go back in time. A time when the final chapters of the Harry Potter books were still a mystery and there were limitless possibilities.

Come join us as we rewrite Harry's 6th year at Hogwarts.

*This RP is not meant to follow the events of book 6.
**This is a message board based RP.

Game| Rules| Application| Taken Characters

Years on the Porch Swing by megans_writng (Hermione/Ginny PG)

redbeargrl@gmail.com — Mon, 26 Jan 2009 23:13:11 GMT

Title: Years on the Porch Swing
Author: megans_writing
Pairing: Hermione/Ginny
Rating: PG
Word Count: 128
Authors Notes: N/A
Warnings: Angst
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

A surprising turn: Chapter 1: The beginning

redbeargrl@gmail.com — Sat, 10 Jan 2009 07:25:40 GMT

Pairing: Hermione/Pansy
Warnings: Later on in the story Ron will be really mean, so if you adore him, then maybe you shouldn't start reading.
Disclaimer: Not mine, never where and never will be, but I do own the plot.
AU: This is my first try out for a femslash story, please review. Thanks to la-dissonance for betaing!
Summary: Hermione is married to Ron, pregnant and life couldn't be better. Until he does something to muck it up, and Hermione receives a letter that changes her world.

Chapter one: The beginning

redbeargrl@gmail.com — Tue, 06 Jan 2009 23:36:38 GMT

It's been three years since the war; Voldemort's been defeated and the side of light has won. Everything seems calm and peaceful. But is it really? Are the survivors of the war dealing with the outcome as well as they seem to be? Is there another dark force biding its time?

Only one thing is certain, nothing is what it seems and people change in unexpected ways.

Come Join us at our Canon compliant (sans epilogue) RPG!

HP Femmeslash Fest -- Spring 2009

redbeargrl@gmail.com — Sun, 21 Dec 2008 10:09:55 GMT

delete if not allowed =)

On IJ: Here || On LJ: Here

Sign ups begin January 5th!!

Magnus Nocens

redbeargrl@gmail.com — Fri, 12 Dec 2008 20:36:29 GMT

Blindsight by la_dissonance (Fleur/Hermione, NC-17)

redbeargrl@gmail.com — Thu, 11 Sep 2008 15:20:41 GMT

Title: Blindsight
Author: la_dissonance
Pairing: Fleur/Hermione
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2553
Warnings: Underage (15), masturbation, explicit girl/girl sex, emotions, some purple-tinged prose that I had not the heart to weed out. Heck, the whole thing is pretty purple :P
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor claim to own it, and no money whatsoever is being made off this work of fanfiction.
Notes: This is cross-posted a bunch of places, but here it is for anyone who hasn't run into it already. Enjoy!

read

Echoes (Ginny/Luna: NC-17)

redbeargrl@gmail.com — Sun, 07 Sep 2008 03:21:08 GMT

Title: Echoes
Author:

arcadian_dream
Pairing: Ginny/Luna
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: femmeslash, explicit sex, angst
Disclaimer: JKR's, I'm just playing.
Summary: Amid the turmoil of the Second War, the Room of Requirement forsees a need Ginny never expected.
Author's Note: written for HP Summersmut. Many thanks to Natalie for the beta.
Words: 2488
Comments: are love.

Echoes...

Loose Ends - an all slash/femslash HP RPG

redbeargrl@gmail.com — Tue, 15 Jul 2008 09:07:46 GMT

In the Department of Mysteries, deep in the dungeons beneath the Ministry of Magic there is room that is always locked. Or at least, it’s always supposed to be…

Pandora Twiddle hadn’t meant for it to happen. All she wanted was a decent mark on her final exam, and a research grant to work as an Unspeakable. She hadn’t meant to leave the door unlocked, but she’d been stressed, and yeah, okay, more than a little hungover.

Just two more days and she’d have handed in her thesis and shut down the project. She’d thought her subject was fascinating – there weren’t many magical theorists working on eromancy, and scant little research on Queer theory in the field. Most of the best-respected researchers were still caught up in parental and filial love, which was where all the funding was.

Her work would have changed that. She’d used cutting edge particle magic theory to study trace remnants of old magic. She’d proven even to her hard-headed supervisor that the love magic the founders had used to place some of the oldest protective spells on Hogwarts School was – well – pretty damn gay.

One minute’s carelessness in the pursuit of jam doughnuts later, and everything was ruined. The protective field where she’d set up her model of the Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw Bonding Charm stood before her, empty and mocking.

With a shifty look around to make sure she was still alone, Pandora waved her wand and the field disappeared. She’d say she finished early and ended the spell. And nobody need ever, ever know what she’d just done.

Miles away a fluttering line of thin silver light flew rapidly northwards through a clear blue sky. It slowed as it drew close to an old castle, perched above a Scottish lake. It settled over the highest tower, making the turret glow briefly. Then it spread out again, and faded away in a wide circle, leaving an odd ripple in it’s wake, like the slight distortions of curved glass. The charm was reflected all over Great Britain within the next few days, the caster apparently going a little trigger happy, fixing itself into the home's of witches and wizards everywhere.

Nobody saw it happen, but they’d start to feel its effects soon enough.

[RULES] [CANONS] [TEMPLATE]

Tequila Sunrise: Lily/Rose NC-17

redbeargrl@gmail.com — Wed, 25 Jun 2008 04:03:13 GMT

Title: Tequila Sunrise
Author: arcadian_dream
Pairing: Lily/Rose
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: explicit sex, drunkenness, next-gen HP
Disclaimer: I disclaim!
Summary: Girls and tequila.
Author's Notes: Written for a challenge (I don't really write next-gen, so be warned).
Words: 1399
Comments: if you like :)

Lily furrowed her brow in confusion...

A Brief Adventure in Baking: Ginny/Hermione, PG

redbeargrl@gmail.com — Mon, 23 Jun 2008 13:16:45 GMT

Title: A Brief Adventure in Baking
Author: arcadian_dream
Pairing: Ginny/Hermione
Rating: PG, at a stretch (it's very tame)
Warnings: none.
Disclaimer: I disclaim!
Summary: Baking can be messy.
Words: 570
Comments: welcomed and muchly appreciated :)

"Will you girls be right with this lot?"

Reformation (Pairing: none yet, R)

redbeargrl@gmail.com — Mon, 21 Apr 2008 15:30:11 GMT

Title: Reformation
Fandom: Harry Potter
Author: redbeargrl
Pairing: none yet (but you all know I'm sure)
Rating: R
Word Count: 5003
Summary: An AU look at the world if Voldemort had won at the Battle of Hogwarts.
Warnings: Mentions of violence and torture. Some not so nice language.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. All of this belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Notes: I have no idea where this came from or where it's going. However, I am not displeased with it so far. Give me time though, I'm sure I'll screw it up eventually as I've never written in first person before.

( Reformation )

redbeargrl@gmail.com — Thu, 03 Apr 2008 22:17:10 GMT

Author: Lash_Larue
Title: Now and Then 4
Pairing:Fleur/Hermione/Ginny Ron/Harry
Rating: maybe R
Summary:The future opens up for the girls
Warnings:None, well there is a little girlsex, and implied guysex
Word Count: 7170 or so
Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling

Now and Then 4

Hermione sighed deeply, and drew Fleur into a hug. “I’m so happy for them. They will be so much happier now.”

“I hope so,” said Fleur as she stroked Hermione’s hair, “but they will face difficulties. Somehow I don’t see their teammates accepting this calmly.”

“Well, it’s not like the team can do without either of them, let alone both. They’ll just have to lump it if they can’t like it,” said Hermione positively.

“I wonder,” began Fleur, “but regardless of that, they will be happier with each other. There is more to life than Quidditch. Even for them.”

“Oh, Her-MI-oh-nee, darling…” came Ginny’s voice down the hall, “I’m WAIT-ing…”

Hermione turned a puzzled glance on Fleur, who gave her a small smile in return. “Toes,” whispered Fleur.

“She wouldn’t! Not after the day we’ve had,” breathed Hermione.

“HER-MEE! Where-are- yoooooo….” sang Ginny.

“I’m afraid you are going to just have to, how you say, ‘suck them up’, lover,” Fleur told Hermione. Fleur didn’t look too sympathetic, truth to tell. They walked down the hall to their bedroom, and found Ginny propped up in the middle of the bed, naked, with her feet resting on a pillow. She wiggled her toes.

“I love you, ‘Mione,” said the smiling Ginny. “I washed my feet.”

“Well, that makes a nice change,” huffed Hermione, but she was smiling as she said it. “I’ll be right with you, lover.”

“Oh, Gods, ‘Mione,” moaned Ginny, some time later, “please…”

“I said, ‘toes’,” mumbled Hermione, “and you have a half-hour left.”

“Fleur, my pet…” began Ginny.

Fleur’s hair began to softly caress Ginny’s body, and Ginny let out a huge sigh of contentment. “I really love you two,” she said fervently.

F&H - ”We know, Gin love, we know.”

Ginny drifted off before her hour was up, but Hermione stuck to her promise. After the hour was up, she snuggled against one side of Ginny, while Fleur did the same on the other side. Fleur and Hermione linked hands on Ginny’s middle.

Good night, love.

Fleur, Hermione, and Ginny appeared on Harry’s and Ron’s practice pitch at precisely 5 the following evening. Harry and Ron were waiting for them with ill-concealed glee.

“Okay, you two,” said Ginny. “Why do you look like you just swallowed something good?” Both boys blushed, but Harry did answer.

“Well Gin, we thought you might like to try out our new racing broom.”

“New broom? I haven’t heard about a new broom. I don’t play for the Harpies anymore, but I do keep up,” she said skeptically.

“Here,” said Ron, holding out a broomstick. Ginny looked at it critically, The handle was dull, there was no flash to it at all, but there was a faint sort of “aliveness” to it. Ginny took it, and her mouth fell open.

“The balance of it!” she exclaimed. “It feels like it WANTS to fly! What is it?”

“The first prototype model from the Phoenix Broomworks,” said Harry proudly.

“That’s me and Harry,” supplied Ron. “Care to try it out?” For an answer, Ginny leapt onto the broom and kicked off.

“WHHHHEEEEEEEEEEE!” she screamed as the broom streaked into the sky. She performed a series of intricate aerobatics, and then landed beside them, her face flushed. “This broom kicks ASS! How did you do it?”

“We set out to make a broom that exceeded the specifications of the latest Firebolt by 25%,” replied Ron.

“And it does, in all categories except braking,” said Harry. “Ron came up with the braking charm.” The girls all looked at Ron, expecting to see him flushed with embarrassment. He was grinning hugely. “The braking is 40% better,” added Harry, looking at Ron with pride.

“This broom will dominate the sport,” whispered Ginny. “What are you going to sell it for? You’ll be filthy rich.”

“We’re already filthy rich,” Ron reminded her, “and we aren’t going to sell it, at least not until after the cup.”

“Frankly,” added Harry, “not many flyers will be able to handle this broom anyway.”

“’Struth,” said Ron, “it scares me sometimes, only Harry can really wring it out.”

“Oh really,” said Hermione with a raised eyebrow. She looked over at Ginny, and saw the light of combat in her eyes. “I assume you have some kind of test course?”

Harry grinned; he had known this was coming. “Of course,” he replied and waved his wand. A series of gates appeared in the air, and a large timer blinked into life on the scoreboard. “Okay, Gin, just fly through the gates as fast as you can, and obstacles will appear for you to avoid. This is the level 8 program, I know you can handle 10, but you ought to get to know the broom first.”

Ginny nodded and again kicked off. She flew her first lap at a moderate pace, getting the feel of the course and the broom. When she again approached the start, she flattened herself to the handle, and shot off like a rocket. The spectators could hear a whistling sound as she wove through the course, dodging, weaving, coming to abrupt halts, only to speed off again in an instant.

“Harry,” said a wide-eyed Ron, “she’s as good as you are.”

“No she isn’t,” Harry disagreed, “she’s better. Watch this.” He flicked his wand, and the gates tightened, and the obstacles grew larger. Ginny didn’t seem to notice. After a few laps that reduced Fleur and Hermione to nail-biting anxiety, she landed again. Instead of the wide grin they all expected, her brow was furrowed, something was obviously bothering her.

“You beat Harry’s best time by 3 seconds, Gin!” Ron crowed proudly. Ginny continued to frown at the broom.

“What’s wrong, Gin?” asked Harry. “Don’t you like it?”

“Harry, Ron, this is far and away the best broom I have ever sat on. But I think it can be just a little better.”

“What are you talking about Ginny? I can barely control the thing,” asked a bewildered Ron.

“I didn’t notice until you upped the level on me, but when you really push it, there is just a bit of a reluctant feel to it,” she turned her eyes to Harry, who looked thoughtful.

“Let me try,” said Harry and he sped off. He was not quite able to match Ginny’s record, although he did better his own best time. When he landed, he had the same sort of look as Ginny had had. “I see what you mean, Gin. But I don’t know what can be done about it, we’ve pretty much exhausted all of the tuning we can do, I think. Besides, who could use any more capability than this?”

“I could,” answered Ginny. “And if you noticed the same thing I did, you could too, Harry. How about you let Fleur, ‘Mione, and I have a look at your spell specifications, and see what we can do?”

Harry and Ron looked at each other; both of them were thinking of the magical ability the girls had shown when they trapped them in the guest room. “Great,” said Ron, “we’d appreciate it. Let’s just go to the house, that’s where we designed the thing.” The 5 of them disappeared with a crack.

“Here you are Gin,” said Harry as he handed her a sheaf of parchment, “these are the spells we used in their order of application, as well as the potions used in treating the tail twigs.”

“Right, we’ll go over them and see if we can come up with something. Where can we work?” asked Ginny.

“Take the study, there is plenty of table space, and books if you need them,” answered Harry; he was looking at Hermione as he said this. She smiled at him. “Just ring if you need anything, one of the elves will help you. And yes, Hermione, they are all paid, hospitalization, vacation, retirement, and the works. Mind you, it was hard to get most of them to take it.”

“Good for you, Harry. Just for that, we’ll work extra hard on your broom,” replied Hermione.

“I don’t suppose you have any Delacour wine in your cellar?” asked Fleur. Ginny and Hermione looked at each other and smiled, but remained silent.

“If you can name one we don’t have,” said Ron, “we’ll get it. But I will be surprised.”

“Such good brothers,’ cooed Fleur, and she kissed them on the cheek. “Now, darlings, let us go work some magic.” They went into the study, leaving Harry and Ron in the hallway. Ron leaned over and kissed Harry.

“We can never repay what they did for us, Ron. Never.”

“No, but we can try, Harry. I’ve got a few ideas, let’s go have a couple beers and talk. Guess we’ll go out to dinner another time. I’ll get Winky to start something for later.” Winky had responded to treatment for her depression and alcoholism, and now ran Harry and Ron’s kitchen with a tiny fist of steel.

“Well, on first glance, this seems to be a fairly standard list of enchantments,” said Ginny. “Ron did come up with a new twist on the braking charm; I don’t think there is much point in messing with that one. It stops fast enough. It’s the turning at high speed that feels restricted.”

“Which spells affect that?” asked Hermione. Ginny showed Fleur and Hermione the relevant spells. “These incantations are very detailed, look at all the punctuation and accenting. They have obviously put a lot of work into this.”

“Yes,” agreed Ginny, “it’s a hell of a broom. Best I’ve ever sat, but when it gets to the edge, it gets – reluctant.” Ginny shrugged.

“Which of these spells makes it love to fly?” asked Fleur. Hermione and Ginny looked at each other, had anyone but Fleur said that, they would have laughed out loud.

“Ummm, none of them, Fleur, it’s a broom,” said Ginny.

“You have never been to the Veela Games, have you?” asked Fleur.

“No, I read about them in the book though,” replied Ginny.

“Nor have I,” put in Hermione.

“Ah, of course you have not. I always forget that we have not really been together forever,’” admitted Fleur. “But in the games, the winners of the flying contest are always the ones who love it most. My Grandmother was one of the greatest flyers ever, and my home flock, yours too, now, dominates the flying. Nothing flies like a Silverwyng Veela, because nothing else loves so much to fly.”

“How do you make a broom love to fly?” asked Ginny.

“You make it Veela,” replied Fleur.

“Fleur love, it’s a broom,” repeated Hermione. For an answer, Fleur reached out and plucked a hair from Hermione’s head. In an instant Ginny had pulled a strand of her own hair loose, and handed it to Fleur. Fleur added a silver strand from her own head, and braided them tightly together.

“We shall add this to the binding for the tail twigs,” said Fleur.

“And then we will redo all of the incantations together,” said Hermione smiling.

“I have an idea for the potions, too,” said Ginny, her eyes sparkling. Hermione and Fleur looked at each other, and comprehension arrived at the same moment.

“Grab the papers, and the broom, we’ll do the potions when we get back…..” said a grinning Hermione. The trio disappeared.

“So, Ron, what’s your idea?” said Harry as he settled into his leather armchair, a foaming mug of stout in his hand.

Ron blushed a little. “Well, I’ve gotten rather fond of “our” room at the girl’s house,” he began, “I propose we buy it from them, get them to seal it up and make us an apparition portal in there.”

“Well, I like the idea of having that room for us to get away in, but the girls might think it a bit odd. And even if we paid them, it would mean less space for them.”

“Not if we added on to their house,” said Ron smugly. “We can buy the surrounding houses, flatten them, and expand the girl’s house any way they want. I know they were planning on renovating, but had to postpone it when Gin quit the harpies.”

“I’d love to do it for them, but they will never accept that, you know how they are,” said Harry, shaking his head.

“Well, we don’t need to ask them to buy the surrounding houses, and then the land can mysteriously become available. But only to them,” explained Ron.

“They could never swing buying all that property there, the value is enormous,” protested Harry.

“They can if we underwrite the deal,” countered Ron. “And I don’t know about you, but that room is worth a LOT to me. And of course they are entitled to be compensated for the spell work; no one else can do it, that’s for sure,”

“I think you’re on to something Ron, we’ll get our solicitors on it first thing Monday.”

“Also, if they succeed in improving that broom, what else can they do? Those three could be richer than we are, if we give them a nudge, and a little help to start,” Ron said earnestly.

“Now that IS a thought, Ron…” said Harry speculatively. “We made that broom what it is by being very careful in its construction and in the magic that went into it. It took way too long to be mass produced, but who knows what they might come up with, or how their magic might be applied to lots of other things.”

“What IS going on with their magic? I’ve never seen anything like it, it feels different.”

“I think it’s them. Them, and their love, and the Veela slant on magic. I think their spells are as strong as their love,” mused Harry.

“Too bad they’re not as strong as Ginny,” quipped Ron.

“Why IS she so strong?” wondered Harry. “You’d think there would be a limit, she’s rather small, and I’ve never witnessed her using a spell or potion to enhance her strength.”

“She’s been that way since she was six,” Ron answered, “Fred was tickling her and she tossed him across the room. It’s just her, somehow. Maybe Hermione can figure it out.”

“Now, Fleur, NOW!” screamed Ginny, and Fleur used her wand to direct the flood of Ginny-juice into a waiting bottle. “Gods, Hermione, you just keep getting better. How is that even possible?”

“Well,” said Hermione as she licked her fingers, “I suppose it’s because our bond is deepening, or because I just LOVE tasting you.”

“One of you had better taste me,” purred Fleur, “before I take matters into my own hands.” It turned out both Ginny and Hermione had a little taste of Fleur, and the level in the bottle rose…

“That ought to do it, don’t you think, Fleur?” asked Ginny as she examined the now full bottle.

“I should think so, there are three potions involved with the broom making. I believe that with Hermione’s contribution we have enough essence for all three.”

“I believe that I might be able to come up with a bit more,” purred Hermione from the depths of the curtain of hair covering her face.

“If you can, Hermione love, it will be for us,” said Fleur firmly.

“In that case, I’m sure I can,” promised Hermione, extending her arms. Of course Ginny got there first, but there was enough of all of them to go around. So they did.

Some time later…

Fleur, Hermione, and Ginny stood together before their mirror, their hair companionably draped around each other. “Mmmmmmm,” purred Fleur, “I believe that we are simply too good for our own good.”

“*Snort*,” went Ginny, “not possible.”

“Well then, shall we go spell a broomstick?” Hermione asked.

“I suppose we should,” said Ginny reluctantly. They retrieved their wands and assembled before the table where the broom was, the list of incantations spread out beside it. Wrapped in each other’s hair, they cast the spells silently, using their bond to synchronize their efforts. When they were done, the narrow braid of their hair shone like tri-colored metal around the tail twigs. Ginny lifted the broom.

“It’s definitely different, it feels lighter, somehow. I think this might work,” Ginny said hopefully.

“Well, we’d best get back and work on the potions,” sighed Hermione.

“Perhaps we will need more ingredients?” Fleur said smiling, laughing together, the three dressed and apparated back to Harry and Ron’s house, taking the broom and the bottle of essence with them.

Ginny rang the bell, and a House-elf appeared promptly. “Would you please tell Ron and Harry we’d like to see them?” she asked the elf.

“Of course, Mistress Ginny,” replied the elf, bowing, and he popped out. A few minutes later, Ron and Harry entered.

“Don’t tell me you are having trouble with the spells,” said Ron, with a puzzled look on his face.

“Oh no,” said Hermione, “we’ve redone those already. My compliments on them by the way, they were very well composed. Pity you never did work like that in school.”

“Same old Hermione,” said the grinning Harry. “But how did you do it so fast?” The girls looked at each other.

“Lots of practice,” answered Ginny.

“We need to work on the potions more now,” said Fleur, “where is your laboratory?”

“In the dungeon, where else?” replied Ron. He strode over to a bookcase, and spoke to a Phoenix-shaped bookend. “Threepeat,” he said, and the bookend burst into flame as the bookcase swung aside, revealing a well-lit staircase.

“There is a supply of the three potions already brewed and plainly labeled, if you can use them,” volunteered Harry.

“If the potions are as good as the spells, I’m sure we can,” Hermione responded, “we’ll see you in a while.”

“Remember,” said Ron, “dinner in two hours. If you’re not done, take a break, okay?”

“Yes, Dad,” said Ginny, and she punched Ron lightly on the arm on her way down the stairs. Ron staggered a little, and shook his head in wonder.

“Hermione, do you have any idea why Ginny is so strong?” asked Harry.

“Well, of course it’s magic,” began Hermione, “but Ginny is the only person I know who can do it like she does, without spells or potions. Simply put, she is as strong as she decides that she needs to be, I can’t explain it any better than that. I suppose it is in the same category as Metamorphmagi, it is simply a rare occurrence.”

“Blasted Fred,” muttered Ron, rubbing his shoulder.

“See you later, dears,” said Fleur as she and Hermione disappeared down the stairs, the bookcase swung closed behind them.

“I need another beer,” said Ron.

“Here are the potions; there is plenty of all of them I guess. Should we use these or brew new ones?” asked Ginny.

“I think this time that we should use their potions, and just add our ‘special’ ingredient,” said Fleur, “that way we will know how much effect it has,” she turned to Hermione and looked the question.

“I think so too, Fleur, but perhaps we should run a few tests on the potions first; to be sure they are still at full potency.”

The girls fell to work, checking the instructions for the brewing, testing for proper ingredient percentages, and studying the effects the potions were designed to have on the broom. Then they compared that to the intent of the spells.

“Ron really did an outstanding job on this braking charm,” announced Hermione. “I knew he was goofing off in school!”

“Yeah,” said Ginny, just think, if he’d studied hard, he might have amounted to something!” This proclamation set them all to laughing, but they were soon back at it, and the time passed swiftly.

“Should we go get them for supper?” asked Harry.

“Let Winky fetch them, Hermione will be thrilled to see her all happy and sober,” answered Ron. “Winky!” he called.

Winky popped into the lounge, “Dinner is ready, Master Ronald, you knows I is always on time,” said Winky proudly.

“Yes, I do Winky, and please call me Ron.” Winky blushed and nodded, but they all knew it would be a long time before she could bring herself to do it, if indeed she ever could. “Our sisters are in the lab, would you like to let them know that dinner is ready?” Winky’s eyes sparkled, for though she had been incensed at the time, she remembered Hermione trying to help her during her dark times at Hogwarts. She nodded eagerly and disappeared with a louder than normal crack. A moment later, Harry and Ron fancied they could hear far-off squeals of delight.

“Dinner is ready, Mistresses,” announced Winky.

“WINKY!” screamed Hermione, and she rushed to embrace her. “It’s so good to see you! How have you been? You look wonderful!”

“Thank you Mistress Hermione, I is glad to see you too,” Winky responded, then she looked down at her feet. “Winky is sorry for how she behaved towards you at Hogwarts, Mistress Hermione. I knows you was only trying to help Winky and the other elves.”

“That’s all right Winky, you were upset, and I suppose I did push rather hard. Are you happy here?”

“Oh yes, Mistress! Winky is very happy. I has my own kitchen to run now,” said the grinning house-elf.

“That’s marvelous,” exclaimed Hermione, “Winky, why do you and the other house-elves call me and Fleur and Ginny, ‘Mistress’?” Winky looked at her as if she had lost her mind.

“Because you is married,” Winky explained slowly. “Mistresses Hermione, Fleur, and Ginny is married to each other.”

“But,” protested Ginny, “we aren’t married, Winky.”

Winky smiled, and said, “You is not needing a preacher to be married Mistress Ginerva, you is just needing to be in love and caring more for each other than for yourself.” Not even Hermione found anything to say to that, but Fleur kissed Winky soundly on each cheek. Winky blushed, but she smiled all the same. “Shall I tell the Masters you is coming to dinner soon?”

“Yes, Winky,” answered Fleur, “we will be there in a moment.” Winky popped out.

“How do you suppose she figured that out?” asked Ginny.

“Well, some House-elves from Hogwarts have helped us several times,” speculated Hermione, “I suppose they just pay attention.”

“She seems pretty smart, I wonder if we are still under-rating House-elves?” mused Ginny.

“Perhaps it is time we researched House-elf magic, as well as Veela?” queried Fleur.

“A good idea,” agreed Hermione, “but dinner first, and then we finish this broom.” They joined hands and disapparated, reappearing outside the dining room.

“About time,” said Ron, “I’m starving.”

“Just like the old days,” sighed Ginny.

The meal was excellent, and Winky beamed with pleasure at the compliments lavished on her by the diners. She watched as her helpers cleared the table, and then left to get the dessert personally. The lights dimmed, and from the doorway into the kitchen Winky appeared pushing a cart consumed in flame. Everyone whipped out their wands, but as Winky was smiling happily, they did nothing more than remain at the ready.
Soon enough they saw that the flames were coming from pans, and that the dessert was going to be Cherries Jubilee, and Crepes Suzette. Cleary Fleur’s reputation in the kitchen had inspired Winky. The dessert was as tasty as it was impressive, and soon the diners were replete.

“Are you going to call it a night then?” asked Ron.

“Not at all,” said Fleur, “we have a broomstick to deal with here. Sleep can wait!” Ron looked impressed, and the ladies returned to the lab.

“Do you think they can improve it?” Harry asked.

“I wouldn’t bet against it, not with those three working on it. I just hope I’ll be able to stay on the thing when they’re done.”

“Well, I suppose we could use a permanent sticking charm,” speculated Harry. A stray cherry hit him between the eyes. “Now my face is all sticky, thanks, Ron.”

“I guess it’s up to me to clean you up a bit then, isn’t it?” said Ron as he rose from his chair.

“How much “Secret Ingredient” do you think we should add?” said Ginny as she opened the bottle. Their eyes met as a familiar scent wafted to their noses.

“Pay attention to business, girls,” said Hermione sternly, though she was a bit flushed herself.

“I think only a few drops in each potion should suffice,” offered Fleur, “after all, it is potent stuff.”

“Damn sure is,” agreed Ginny, breathing deeply, “I think we are going to have to do something about the smell though. I know I couldn’t fly a broom that smelled like this.”

“Hmmm, fair point,” agreed Hermione, “let’s see how it goes after we mix it with the potions.” They poured the three potions into separate containers, added three drops of essence to each, and mixed them thoroughly. They each sniffed a container.

“It still gets to me,” said Fleur flatly.

“Me as well,” agreed Ginny as she hungrily eyed Fleur. “Let’s try a little citrus scent for masking.” They did, and it seemed to help, but…

“I can’t tell if the smell is coming from the potion, or us, anymore,” stated Hermione, “and I’m so horny I can’t think anyway.”

“Race you,” said Ginny as she disapparated. There was never a point in racing Ginny, so Fleur and Hermione looked at each other and smiled; then stepped into a deep kiss.

“I want you right now,” said Fleur as she dropped to her knees.

“But Ginny is waiting for us,” Hermione protested half-heartedly.

“We’ll make it up to her,” promised Fleur as she lifted Hermione’s robe and slipped beneath it. Hermione was all out of protests, and she leaned against the table and spread her legs wide. She felt Fleur pull her panties aside, she felt the warm breath of her lover on her most tender place, she felt…

“Ooooooooh, yes! Gods Fleur my love, that feels sooo gooood….” The chortle that rolled from Fleur’s throat, down her tongue into Hermione’s center felt good too. As did the fingernails that were digging lightly into her bum. Hermione placed her hands on Fleur’s head and pulled Fleur firmly against her, and was rewarded with the throaty, although well-muffled laugh. She ground herself against Fleur’s face, her hips pumping desperately, and the harder she pulled Fleur against her, the better it felt, until… FLEUR, OH FLEUR! Oh ma belle, belle Fleur…” Hermione’s legs were trembling as Fleur appeared from beneath her robes, her face glistening and her eyes dancing.

“Now we can go see Ginny,” said Fleur, and she embraced Hermione and took them to their special place.

Ginny was waiting for them. She was propped up against the wall, reclining on several pillows. No clothes were in evidence, but she was hugging a large pillow that covered her from just above her knees to just below her chin. Her hair was fanned out around her like a fireball. “Took you long enough,” she said pleasantly. “I’m glad to see you weren’t working on the broom,” this last was said as she looked at Fleur’s still glistening face. “I’ve been a little busy myself,” she said with an impish grin.

“Oh?” said Hermione.

“Uh-huh,” replied Ginny.

“Well?” said Fleur.

Ginny’s legs spread wide beneath the pillow, she grinned at Fleur and Hermione once again, and threw the pillow aside. It took them a moment, but they saw Ginny’s project at about the same time, and both sets of eyes went round. The familiar patch of red curls was gone; there was nothing between her legs but soft, smooth, freckled skin. “You like?” asked Ginny a bit tentatively.

Fleur got there first, but only just. Hermione’s legs were still a bit wobbly. Ginny leaned back into the pillows as Fleur explored the newly uncovered skin with her lips and tongue. “I like,” mumbled Fleur as her tongue parted Ginny’s smooth outer lips.

“Me too,” moaned Ginny, sliding her fingers into the silver silk covering Fleur’s head.

“What spell did you use?” asked Hermione as she watched entranced, while Fleur’s tongue probed deep into Ginny.

“Uh, ummm, yessssssss,” hissed Ginny, “damn this feels good. De- de- oh GOD!” Ginny’s chest heaved and her back arched as Fleur found a particularly good spot.

“Ginny darling,” cooed Fleur, “this is such a lovely surprise. How soft you are…how warm… how smooth…how utterly delicious!”

“I’ll ask about the spell later,” Hermione muttered to herself, and then she sat on the bed with her back against the wall and watched Fleur and Ginny while she caressed herself. A thick rope of her hair stroked Fleur’s bottom while Hermione pulled and pinched her own nipples. Ginny’s body arched like a bow, partially lifting Fleur off of the bed, Fleur’s response was to try and get her tongue farther into Ginny, and to dig her nails harder into Ginny’s bottom. Hermione’s response was to roughly thrust three fingers into her throbbing sex. She did a bit of arching as well.

“Fancy a swim?” Harry asked Ron.

“With the girls here?” Ron queried.

“Well, they’re busy, and besides, they know enough not to burst in unannounced.”

“You’re right Harry, I’m still getting used to being up front about us,” Ron answered.

“Yeah, it does feel a bit odd, but I don’t think we ought to come out to the team, at least not until after the Cup Match. Somehow I don’t think Pattershaw will look kindly on our relationship,” said Harry.

“Fuck Pattershaw!” Ron swore.

“I’d just as soon not,” laughed Harry.

“Point,” conceded Ron, “last one in is a rotten egg!” Ron dashed off towards the pool. Harry shook his head and apparated there.

“Hello, egg,” he said as Ron dashed into the room where the pool was. Harry was floating on his back, grinning.

“Shit, I forgot,” said Ron sheepishly.

“I’ve been playing submarine,” Harry explained, “see my periscope?”

“That’s really lame, Harry,” said Ron as he stripped off his clothes.

“Maybe so,” agreed Harry, “but I bet you are just dying to go ‘down scope’, aren’t you?” In fact he was.

“Even though no time will pass back at the boys house, I feel a little guilty about leaving them for so long,” said Hermione from beneath the tri-colored silk.

“I’m sure they will find something to do,” said Ginny.

“And we did manage to secure more potion ingredients,” added Fleur.

“True, but we still need to treat the broom, and I think we had best clean up thoroughly first, so that there is no, ummm… olfactory confusion,” Hermione declared.

One of the things their special room lacked was a proper bath, so they apparated to their house and cleaned up, then apparated back to Ron and Harry’s.

“How did you three get out there,” asked a clearly puzzled Ron as he opened the door.

“We needed to get something from home, but we couldn’t apparate back to your lab because of your security spells,” explained Fleur, “we will be through with the broom soon, though.”

The girls trooped back into the study, opened the staircase, and returned to the laboratory. Ginny went and unstoppered one of the potions. She gave an experimental sniff…

“Well, it’s really nice, but I think it’s safe now,” she said. Fleur and Hermione each took a sniff of the potion and agreed that it was very nice, but it drove neither of them over the edge either. Hermione decanted the potions into three atomizers, and sprayed the tail of the broom with each in the original order of treatment.

“It remains to be seen how the effects might be different starting with an untreated broom,” Hermione said, “but this should tell us whether we have made any improvement.”

“Let’s go!” exclaimed Fleur, and they climbed the stairs back to the study, where Hermione rang the bell. Winky appeared promptly.

“Yes, Mistress Hermione?” inquired Winky.

“Would you tell Ron and Harry that we are finished with the broom, please?” Hermione requested.

“Of course, Mistress,” Winky said as she disappeared. It was several minutes before Ron and Harry appeared, and they were both rather damp.

“Here you go, boys,” said Ginny as she handed the broom to Harry. His eyes lit up at the feel of it.

“Amazing,” he said, “I can feel the difference just holding it. Shall we go give it a try?”

“It’s a bit late, Harr,” protested Ron.

“True enough,” agreed Harry, “but I can’t sleep without trying it, and I bet Ginny can’t either.”

“That’s for sure,” Ginny stated. “Let’s go.” They went.

“You first, Ginny,” said Ron.

“But it’s your broom,” protested Ginny.

“Not anymore,” said Harry, “it’s our broom. And anyway, I’d kind of like to make sure it’s safe before I climb onto it.” Ginny knew he was kidding, but she stuck her tongue out at him anyway as she mounted the broom and kicked off. She was surprisingly careful for a time, not going very fast, or turning very sharp, or stopping very suddenly, and the observers were beginning to wonder if something was wrong, when Gin flattened herself to the broom and streaked onto the test course. Four jaws dropped in wonder, and when Ginny landed beside them her grin nearly split her head in two.

“I think it worked,” she said.

“Too bloody right it worked,” said Ron, “you lopped 18 seconds off of your record. I’ll never be able to fly that thing!”

“I think you will,” Ginny said, “it is very controllable, almost like it tries to keep you on it. But it does seem to purely love to fly. Here, Harry.” With a huge grin of his own, Harry took off and began his own assault on the test course. Once again, he could not quite match Ginny’s time, but it was close.

“Merlin!” exclaimed Harry as he landed. “You three are marvelous! Not only is it improved, it’s actually easier to fly fast. How can that be, do you suppose?”

“I think it is because the broom cares for you,” Fleur offered. Everyone knew better than to scoff, but they all looked a bit puzzled, even Hermione. “We put a good bit of ourselves into the spells and potions,” explained Fleur. “I think the broom can sense when someone we love is on it,” she gave a first-class Fleur shrug.

“Well, we’ll have to save that test for later,” said Ron as he reached for the broom, “no one not standing on this pitch right now is getting near this thing,” and he took off. He landed a while later with a broad smile on his face too. “I know I didn’t come close to you two, but it is easier to control than before, and I think I did better.”

“Lopped 10 seconds off your best time, Ron,” Harry informed him. Ron’s eyes bugged out a bit.

“Bloody Hell!” exclaimed Ron.

“Well, it is rather late,” said Harry. “Would you like to stay with us tonight, girls?”

“It would be lovely,” said Hermione, “but we’d better go home, I have an early day tomorrow. I have to finish up a test for Monday.”

“Have fun with the broom, Harry,” said Ginny.

"All right if we drop round Wednesday evening?” asked Ron. “There is something we want to talk with you three about, but the details need a bit of work yet.”

“Of course,” said Fleur instantly, “you are always welcome.” Ginny and Hermione nodded.

They exchanged hugs and goodnights, and then they all went to their homes. They all went straight to sleep too; it had been a very eventful evening.

Harry and Ron arrived at the girls’ home Wednesday evening after dinner, Ginny let them in and escorted them into the parlor where Hermione and Fleur were waiting on one of the couches. Harry and Ron had a long parcel and a briefcase with them.

“Good evening dear brothers,” said Fleur warmly, “and are you going to tell us why you both look like the cat that got the cream?”

“Well of course we are,” began Harry, “but I have to tell you that it is going to take a little time.” Ron grinned hugely. “We have a few things for your consideration, ladies.”

“Then you’d better sit down,” said Hermione.

”We will,” promised Ron, “Gin, why don’t you sit with them on the couch, it will be easier if you are all together.” Ginny complied, and Harry and Ron moved a couple of chairs up to the opposite side of the coffee table. Harry extracted a fairly thick document from his briefcase. “Now then,” began Ron, “we want to thank you again for what you did for us, for me and Harry. I’m not sure we’d ever have gotten up the nerve on our own.” The girls smiled in delight, pleased that their plot had worked out so well.

“Also,” said Harry, “I’m not sure if you can understand this exactly, but that room, your guest room, well, our room means an awful lot to Ron and me.”

“Oh,” said Ginny, “we understand, Harry. It’s where your love blossomed; of course it’s special to you.”

“And you can stay there anytime you like,” promised Fleur.

“Thanks,” replied Ron, “but we had something a little more, ummm, permanent in mind.”

“We want to buy it,” said Harry. “Here, look this over.” He handed over a sheaf of paper, which Hermione took. The girls poured over it together.

“In exchange for this room and the specified modifications, Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley agree to pay the sum of…. Merlin’s Balls!” exclaimed Hermione.

“Well, they might be a bit hard to come up with,” Ron demurred, “we were hoping that you would accept galleons.”

“This is ridiculous, you two,” sputtered Ginny, “this is more than we paid for the whole house!”

“Yes, you cannot expect us to take advantage of you, simply because you are rich,” protested Fleur.

“First you aren’t taking advantage of us, we came to you. Next, why are we rich?” asked Harry.

“Because you’re great Quidditch players,” answered Hermione.

“Because we can do things other people cannot do,” corrected Ron, “and so can you.”

“No one else could have trapped Ron and me in that room. No one. That room, and your magic will give us a place of absolute privacy and security. No one else in the world can give us that, and you should be compensated for it. And it will be depriving you of the use of a fair part of your home. If anything we under bid. Ron, make a note to increase the price by 20%,”said Harry.

“Noted,” said a grinning Ron. “Assuming they agree to sell it to us.” Three stunned women looked at each other.

“Take your time,” said Harry generously. “Meanwhile, I’ll move on to the next thing.” He reached for the long package, and unwrapped it on the table. The girls gasped as the contents were revealed.

“This,” said Ron, fairly squirming with delight, “is the first fully finished broom from the Phoenix Broomworks. That is, it’s finished except for your special touches. It’s yours, Gin.” Ginny gazed in wonder at the broom before her, the handle was slim, and formed from a dense crimson wood, while the tail was crafted finely from select twigs of a figured dark brown and very pale white wood. “The handle is Kingwood,” explained Ron, “and the tail twigs are Bubinga. We thought it would make a nice broom for you.”

Ginny leapt over the table and swept them both into a bone-crushing hug, tears of joy streaming down her face. “Easy Gin,” choked Harry, “we’re only mortal!” Ginny eased her grip a little, and planted a resounding kiss on both of them.

“It’s BEAUTIFUL! How can I ever thank you?”

“Well, you could persuade your partners to accept this,” said Harry, as he handed Ginny a check.

“TEN THOUSAND GALLEONS! For “consulting”, what the hell is this?” yelled Ginny.

“Do you have any idea what we will sell this broom for, eventually?” Ron asked.

“It wouldn’t exist without you three, and I am going to kick Krums’ ASS with the first one,” assured Harry. “Ten thousand galleons is no more than fair. Our accountant is a beast, and he came up with that amount. And that brings us to the next item on the agenda…” Harry handed a thick sheaf of papers to Hermione.

“Universal Solutions”, read Hermione, “what on earth is that?”

“That’s you three,” said Ron. “We set you up with a consulting firm. Harry and I will provide the startup capital, retain a small interest in the firm, and use our solicitors and contacts to secure your first clients and do the negotiating. You girls are far too modest for your own good.”

“What’s this about research facilities and the like?” asked Hermione.

“That’s another thing, you might find there is additional space available in the neighborhood, should you want to expand, or anything…” answered Harry.

“You know we cannot accept this much from you,” began Fleur.

“Accept, nothing,” said Ron. “You girls are going to make us a ton of galleons. The difference is, you are going to make yourselves several tons in the process.”

“You can do things that no one else can. You should be appropriately rewarded for it. It is just good business, and Ron and I can’t play Quidditch forever,” said Harry flatly.

“It’s all there,” added Ron, “read it at your leisure. But read it all. Harry and I will gain a lot from that, it’s not a gift. It’s a partnership. And it will be good for all of us.”

“Yeah, it will,” promised Harry. “Give us a call when that broom is done, will you?”

“By the way, when it goes into production, as limited as that will be, it will be called the “Phoenix Silverwyng”, if that’s okay with you. We thought that was appropriate. We’ll let ourselves out,” said Ron as he rose from the chair. Ron and Harry left the stunned women sitting on the couch.

“We can’t let them do this,” said Fleur.

“We’ll be costing them a lot of galleons if we don’t,” answered Hermione as she thumbed through the pages. “We might be getting more than someone else would have offered us, but if these figures are even close to right, the boys will be doing just fine here. And we will be up to our sweet bits in galleons.”

“I rather like the sound of that,” said Ginny as she cradled her new broom.

“Well then, we should get some rest,” declared Fleur, “we have a broom to spell, coming up!”

“Do you suppose we’ll need a bit more of our special ingredient?” asked Hermione.

“Well, if we do, I’m ready to do my part,” said Ginny, “this broom is making me hot!”

Fic: "Lunaism" Hermione/Luna "R"

redbeargrl@gmail.com — Tue, 25 Mar 2008 22:44:00 GMT

Author: Lash_Larue
Title: "Lunaism"
Pairing:Hermione/Luna
Rating:R
Summary: It's short
Warnings:implied girlsex
Word Count: 233
Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling

“Lunaism”

Hermione was drifting on clouds. Her entire being was floating on ice cream confections that extended as far as she could see.

The ice cream was warm, and soft. Perhaps it was down? Yes. Down.

But was down ever sweet? Did down ever melt in her mouth and run thickly down her throat, spreading contentment and joy?

It must be chocolate then. She was floating in a sea of chocolate.

Chocolate sometimes made little sounds escape her mouth. It sometimes made her feel, just a bit, like she was melting along with it.

But never this much. Never so much that she became chocolate too, never to the point that her entire being melted and flowed in a thick, languid, heated trail that pooled between her legs.

Not chocolate after all.

Something else then. But what?

What melted her, and drew small cries from her, and carried her so far away from the world that it no longer mattered?

What?

She stirred amongst the icecreamdownchocolate flood that was bearing her away, and raised her head.

Honey. It was honey and the honey was flowing over her thighs, and carrying her away.

“Luna, my love?” The honey flowed and rearranged, and sapphires looked into her eyes from between her thighs.

“Yes?” came a voice that set her blood singing.

“You cannot do this forever,” Hermione whispered.

“Why not?”

Hermione was drifting on clouds…

Fic: Now and Then 3 part 3 RLY NC-17

redbeargrl@gmail.com — Wed, 19 Mar 2008 15:52:45 GMT

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

Modly Post

redbeargrl@gmail.com — Sat, 15 Mar 2008 18:55:56 GMT

In case nobody has noticed this asylum is now Permanently Insane. I will refrain from snark at this point.
Just a couple of things.
Tags...yeah, please use them. It makes things easier to find for everybody. I've gone through the posts and added them.
Art...We need some! And I know we have some fine artists on this asylum.
New Layout...If anybody would like to make us a new layout I will give you cookies! Or something.
If anybody has suggestions for making this site better please speak up.
I just wish we could edit posts in Rich Text...I am teh epic fail at editing in html.
::hangs head in shame::

My love to you all
Jessie

FIC: Limits of the Flesh: Redux (Bellatrix/Alice NC-17)

redbeargrl@gmail.com — Sat, 15 Mar 2008 02:21:43 GMT

Title: Limits of the Flesh: Redux
Author: tattooedsappho
Pairing: Bellatrix Lestrange / Alice Longbottom
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2714
Authors Notes: This little piece has been rattling around my head since I first wrote Limits of the Flesh, it has just taken me this long to finally get around to writing it.
Warnings: violence/torture, pseudo non-con (starts off like it might be but technically isn't)
Disclaimer: I don't own these ladies, I'm just playing with them.

( Follow The Fake Cut )

Fic: Now and Then 3 part one, Various Pairings, NC-17

redbeargrl@gmail.com — Fri, 14 Mar 2008 01:50:48 GMT

This thing was getting so long I just had to stop, and Redbeargrl helped me break it in half. There is a little more plot than usual in this one, and several things are being set up for the future.

Author: Lash_Larue
Title: Now and Then 3, Part One
Pairing:Fleur/Hermione/Ginny, McGonagall/Hooch, Ron/Harry
Rating: NC-17
Summary:The ladies force the issue between Ron and Harry, Hermione discovers some things about old teachers and friends, and an awkward feature of the Veela Bond manifests.
Warnings:Some explicit sex, there are still 3 of them, beginnings of some mansex, not hard core in this part. Hermione is maybe a little less inhibited than usual. Some language, not much really.
Word Count: 10,000
Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling

Beta thanks to Sor_Bet and Redbeargrl, any screwups are all mine.

Now and Then

The 3rd Story, Part One

The time since Ginny had entered into the Veela Bond with Fleur and Hermione had been a very busy one. She had of course left Grimmauld place, and while Harry and Ron had said that they would miss her, Ginny could tell that they were inwardly relieved. She supposed that she had been “cramping their style” a bit, since she was Ron’s sister, and had at one time been linked with Harry.

She had talked with Harry about that before leaving. “Harry, about us…“ she began.

Harry had smiled, and said, “You don’t have to say anything Gin. Inside I always knew it was Hermione for you, and I always hoped that it would happen. And now, with Fleur too…“

“You KNOW?” gasped Ginny.

“I’m not quite so thick as Ron,” he said, smiling at her. “It’s perfect. My three favorite women in the world, in love with each other… how could it possibly be any better for any of us?”

Tears filled Ginny’s eyes. “I really do love you Harry.”

“I know Gin, I love you too. That’s all that matters in the end. I just hope that one day I can have something halfway close to what you three have,” he added wistfully, his eyes looking at something far away.

“I’m sure you will, Harry,” said Ginny, hugging him tightly. “Just follow your heart.”

“Yeah,” he said, as he broke the hug and kissed her on the cheek, ‘I’ll do that. Don’t be a stranger here, Gin.”

“No worries there, and we’ll expect you and Ron for dinner this Saturday!”

“Wouldn’t miss it for galleons,” he assured her, “and I won’t say anything to Ron. If he’s too dense to see what’s in front of his face, then he doesn’t deserve to know.”

At that, Ginny kissed him lightly on the lips, gave him a squeeze that made his eyes bug, and fairly danced down the walk to her new life. Harry smiled as she blinked out of sight. “There’s one part of my life that’s worked out right, anyway,” he thought, as he turned and entered his home.

Fleur, Hermione, and Ginny settled into a comfortable rhythm in their lives, and after two years together, they were as happy as they had ever hoped to be. Life was not without its rough spots, of course, but the unwavering quality of their love made it seem easy. Hermione had gradually turned over the day to day operations of S.P.E.W. to Dobby, who had proven a surprisingly adept negotiator and administrator. His exploits during the war ensured that he was taken very seriously indeed, and if he occasionally slipped up and referred to a witch or wizard as “Mistress” or “Master” it was never mentioned.

Hermione taught Transfiguration at Hogwarts, Fleur had a job in the Department of International Magical Co-operation, and Ginny was a chaser with the Harpies. The only problem with any of it was that they all had longish hours and Ginny was away a lot at matches. Fleur and Hermione attended as many of them as they could, and they took joy in watching Ginny play. Then one evening after dinner, as they sat together in the drawing room, Ginny spoke up. “I have to leave the Harpies,” she said abruptly.

“We knew something was up,” replied Fleur, “you don’t seem to enjoy it the way you used to.”

“It’s not the quidditch so much, I still love the game, it’s just that I never seem to be home enough. And frankly, my hair is beginning to be a problem. It wants to play too.” Fleur and Hermione laughed at that; they were very familiar with the playfulness of Ginny’s hair. “The thing is, it’s starting to figure out how to escape from the bindings, and I’m pretty sure they would find some rule against it. To say nothing of the attention it would attract.” They all sobered up at that one, they gathered enough attention as it was. If the hair went public they would have no peace at all.

“Is the hair any good at quidditch?” Hermione asked, trying to suppress a grin. Ginny’s face split into the wide smile that she and Fleur so loved to see.

“I let it loose one night when I was practicing alone at Ron and Harry’s research pitch, with the enchanted players. I missed a pass, and my hair caught it and scored a perfect goal on the level 10 keeper. The quaffle went right through the backstop.”

Hermione and Fleur knew enough about quidditch by now to be impressed. Ron, who played keeper for England along with Harry, who was seeker, was one of the best keepers in the world now. Ron rated 9 on the scale. Harry was ranked 10 as a seeker. It was a little known fact, that the reason that they were so good, was that they worked tirelessly at it. Quite apart from Harry’s inherited wealth, they had a huge income from the sport with endorsements, bonuses, the lot. They had used a ton of galleons to construct an enchanted, private, pitch to work on tactics and techniques. The women had helped with the magic that operated and concealed it, and were the only ones apart from Ron and Harry who had access to it. The “boys”, as Fleur, Hermione, and Ginny referred to them, had found that their teammates did not meet their standard for dedication, and opted just to do the extra work on their own. They had also begun development on a top-secret racing broom that not even the girls were privy to.

“Well,” said Hermione, “I can see where that sort of thing would be a problem.”

“So leave the team, dear Gin, or is there something else to this?” asked Fleur.

“Well, Dad said he could get me on at the Ministry, but I wouldn’t be making nearly as much. I just don’t see how we could do the renovations we want to if I leave the team.”

“Ginny,” said Fleur, “I know you know our answer to that.” Of course she did, they all usually knew what the others were going to say before it was said, and a feeling just could not be concealed at all.

“We’ll be fine, Ginny,” said Hermione, laughing, “the changes will wait. Our house isn’t precisely a hovel as it is.”

“And we have our special place,” added Fleur, her eyes sparkling. The three exchanged a look that they all knew well, and three identical smiles disappeared with a crack!

Some time later in the now, they were all cuddled together in a warm puddle of well-pleased woman, breathing softly together under a glorious living cover. They did indeed, have their special place.

They awoke together, as always when they were there. They all took a deep breath, and enjoyed the very air of their bonding room. Also as always, they stood together before the mirror, the changes that were the result of Ginny joining the group were complete by now, and the result was, to any eye, breathtaking. To their eyes, it was perfection, because none of them would change the least detail of any other of them. Fleur’s figure was somewhat rounder than it was before she and Hermione bonded, and Hermione’s was a bit more graceful than before Fleur. Ginny had added a catlike strength to the mix, while her own slender form had filled out a bit. She had a little more breast and bum than she used to, but the strength in her was still evident.

“Back to the world, my loves,” said Fleur.

“Oui,” came the reluctant agreement.

Back home, the three had finished their preparations for work, and were on the verge of leaving, when Ginny remembered… “Oh, the boys are coming for supper tomorrow.”

“Oops,” said Hermione, “I had forgotten. I don’t think they’ve been over since right after Ginny came here. I’ll see if I can get the House-elves to cater.”

“I’ll cook,” volunteered Fleur, “I can do the shopping on the way home from work, I leave early today.”

“Great!” said Ginny and Hermione in unison. Fleur was a marvelous cook. They kissed each other and departed for their separate workplaces.

“Bloody idiots!” blurted Ron as he slammed his pads into his practice locker. “I tell you Harry, I’ve about had it with that slack lot. It’s like they expect me to block everything, you to catch the snitch, and leave them to bang the groupies after the game.”

“I know mate, but you pretty much do block everything, and I occasionally do catch the snitch,” said Harry placatingly. Ron heaved a huge sigh.

“Yeah, but when I think of all the work we put in, all those hours, not to mention the load of galleons we blew on our pitch…”

“Ron, you never have learned to stop worrying about money. You know perfectly well that we could walk out of here this minute, never straddle a broom again, and still not be able to spend what we’ve got.”

Ron smiled. “I do keep forgetting that. I wish the girls would let us do more for them, though.”
Harry nodded. Fleur, Hermione, and Ginny would not accept money from them, for they valued their independence, but they graciously accepted the lavish gifts the boys gave them on birthdays, Christmas, and the like. Both Ron and Harry took a great deal of pride in how beautiful their friends were. “I reckon we have the three best-looking sisters in the world, Harry.” Harry agreed.

“And speaking of them, we’re to go to their house for supper tomorrow, so try not to forget and go skirt-chasing.”

“Truth to tell Harry, I’m starting to get tired of the whole scene. The parties, the groupies, the drinking, there just has to be more; look how happy the girls are, and they just sort of scrape by.” Ron looked at Harry with a sort of desperate appeal on his face, and Harry felt a little lurch in his chest.

“Surely not,” he thought to himself, but he couldn’t forget the feeling. “Well then, I’m off to do another bloody advert,” he announced briskly, “I’ll see you at home later.” Harry quickly left the locker room. Ron stared after him for a long time.

“I thought that I would fix Boeuf Bourguignon for supper tomorrow,” said Fleur over dinner, “will that be suitable?”

“Anything you cook will be perfect, Fleur my love,” said Hermione, “and the boys do really like that dish. Unfortunately you’ll have to prepare it without me. Professor McGonagall has called a meeting of the senior staff tomorrow afternoon. I should be home in plenty of time to help set the table and things though.”

“I’ll help,” said Ginny. “Now that I’m not playing for the Harpies I’ll be home. Home is even better than quidditch, now.” Fleur and Hermione smiled their agreement.

“You will not bully me in the kitchen like your mother does, will you Gin?” asked Fleur teasingly.

“Well, I might bully you a tiny bit. But nothing at all like Mum does,” replied Ginny. “There is just something about you in an apron, working your hands in the bread dough… “

“Only an apron?” Fleur replied coyly.

“If you’re asking me, then yes,” replied Ginny her eyes alight.

“Honestly,” sighed Hermione, “you two are shameless. Absolutely shameless! Fortunately, so am I. Ginny’s right you know, as good a cook as you are, there is nothing in the kitchen nearly so delicious as you.” Fleur actually blushed a bit at that, or perhaps flushed is a better word. Ginny was starting to glow a little. Ginny did that.

“Nothing, perhaps, except …*us*…” breathed Fleur softly. A profound silence hung in the air for a moment.

“Race you!” cried Ginny, and she leapt up and fled down the hall in a cloud of flying clothes. There was no hope of getting there before her, and no reason to try. Ginny would be there.

“Thank you for Ginny,” Fleur said as she touched Hermione’s cheek.

“Thank you for us,” replied Hermione tenderly.

“WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU TWO?” roared Ginny from the bedroom.

Giggling like schoolgirls, Fleur and Hermione scampered down the hall in a cloud of clothing of their own. Home was, indeed, much better than quidditch.

“OUT! All you lot! Get the hell out of here!” screamed a very red-faced Ron. There followed a sort of panicked exodus as the crowd of groupies and hanger’s on fled. Quite apart from being a wizard, Ron had filled out a great deal, and he was physically quite imposing. Harry took a moment to enjoy the sight of that bunch fleeing in terror from his friend, and then carefully schooled his face to a neutral expression. Ron sat down hard in his chair. “Sorry for ruining the party Harry, I just couldn’t stand another second of those fucking idiots.”

“I would have done the same,” said Harry, “but you’re lot’s scarier than I am.” Ron looked up startled.

“What are you on about Harry? You killed Voldemort! Nobody is scarier than you. Certainly not me, I’m just your lovable, goofy mate,” he said with just a little trace of bitterness in his voice.

“Ron, you’ve got to get over that schoolboy shit. Come over here.” Harry moved to stand in front of the large mirrored wall that faced the dining area. Ron reluctantly came to stand beside him. “Look, you great silly git,” said Harry pointing at their reflection, “you’re a head taller than I am, and you outweigh me by 30 kilos. You could fold me up and put me in your pocket if you took a notion to. It’s not always wands and magic you know, and even if it were, who came up with that braking charm for the new broom?”

“That’s different, it’s just flying, it’s not like it’s important.”

“Not important? It’s flying that got us all this, it’s what we live for.”

“Maybe. But you’re still a better flyer than I am,” Ron clung stubbornly to his position.

“Yeah, I am. So what. Damn near no one else is. You’re the best fucking keeper in the world Ron. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. Ever will have. You’ve always looked out for me. I never had to watch my back during the war because I knew Ron Weasley was watching it for me.” Harry’s voice thickened a bit, and he cleared his throat. “Without you, Voldemort would have won. It’s just that simple, and everyone knows that except you.” Harry grabbed Ron’s bulging shoulder and squeezed it roughly, giving him a shake. “Ron Weasley is one hell of a bloke. I love you mate.” Harry punched Ron on the arm, and headed up to his room.

Ron stared long into the mirror, thinking of what Harry had said. He could still feel Harry’s grasp on his shoulder much later, when he went to his own room.

“Everything is ready, except for the bread,” said Fleur. She and Ginny had been working all day getting the house ready for the boy’s visit.

They had hunted down the scattered clothes (Ginny’s knickers had been found hanging from the hall chandelier. She could really shed clothes when Fleur and Hermione had her worked up!) They then cleaned all the rooms they thought would be used during the visit including the spare bedroom, just in case the boys decided to stay over.

“Do you need anything to make it?” asked Ginny.

“I don’t think so, just let me check the flour…merde!.. I thought there was enough. I think there might be some rolls in the fridge though.”

“Feed the boys refrigerator rolls when it’s been so long since they were here? Doesn’t sound like you to me. Besides, you know how much they love your bread. I’ll pop to the market and get some flour. Anything else?”

Fleur made a great show of looking for the other ingredients before reporting, “No, I have everything else I need. I’m so sorry Ginny.”

“Don’t be silly lover, your bread is worth any amount of trouble,” said Ginny smiling. She kissed Fleur’s cheek and headed to the market.

“It will be worth the trouble this time, chere, that I promise you,” Fleur chuckled throatily as she removed two perfectly prepared loaves from their hiding place and slid them into the warming oven to rise.

“Thank you Professor Sinistra,” said McGonagall, “for that riveting report on the condition of the telescopes.”

Hermione groaned inwardly, but she kept quiet and pretended interest. The
reports at these staff meetings were excruciating. Except for Luna’s. Her Care of Magical Creatures reports were always fascinating. Luna had a positive gift for working with animals. Hermione sometimes thought that Luna could really talk to them, but that was just silly, wasn’t it? Luna was up next, and Hermione brightened up and prepared to listen.

Ginny was whistling as she headed into the kitchen with the sack of flour. It always made her happy to do things for Fleur and Hermione, even little things like this. She opened the door to the kitchen, and the whistling stopped as her heart leapt into her throat. There was Fleur, kneading a huge mound of dough, her back to the door, wearing nothing but a teeny little lacy apron. Her hair was unbound, but thoughtfully had arranged itself so as not to obstruct the view. Ginny couldn’t breathe, nor could she take her eyes off of Fleur’s taut, round bum. The way the muscles clenched when she leaned into the dough made Ginny’s breath labor a bit. “There goes another perfectly good pair of knickers,” thought Ginny. The flour hit the floor with a soft “thud”.

Fleur gave a little, obviously phony start, and her bum bounced prettily. “Oh, chere, you startled moi,” said Fleur as she looked over her shoulder at Ginny. “As it turned out, we did have some flour. I think I’m about - ready…” she said huskily.

It was cliché, but it was still Fleur…Ginny’s clothes flew like leaves in the wind, and her hair flared in a sudden flame as it burst from its bindings.

“So we now have the only in-care bred Crumple-horned Snorkack in the world,” finished Luna proudly. Nothing was in “captivity” with Luna. The beasts simply stayed with her because they loved her. Not even dear Hagrid had had such a way with creatures. Even the Centaurs revered Luna, and there was a Thestral named Nightwing that followed her around like a very large and scary puppy. Since the war, almost everyone could see Thestrals.

Hermione shifted uneasily in her seat as Luna moved on to her class progress report. “What is going on?” wondered Hermione, as she squirmed a bit more.

Fleur gazed heavy-lidded at the nude, vaguely incandescent form of Ginny. She leaned farther over the table, her breasts making interesting impressions in the warm dough. Fleur moaned, and Ginny pounced.

“OH!” exclaimed Hermione. She was just about to start her own report, and the exclamation sounded in an otherwise silent room. The other teachers looked at her in alarm.

“Are you all right, Miss Granger?” asked McGonagall, concern plain on her face.

The spreading heat and wetness in Hermione’s groin was usually perfectly all right with her, but this was not the time and place that she would have chosen.

Ginny grabbed Fleur from behind, and fitted herself to her, leaning on her, pressing Fleur’s breasts farther into the warm dough. Fleur felt her nipples harden, making the impressions deeper, and even more interesting. Ginny’s hair wrapped around Fleur’s legs, and stroked them.

“Fleur, you vixen,” breathed Ginny into Fleur’s neck, “you set me up!”

“Oui,” answered Fleur somewhat breathily, as she thrust her backside against Ginny, “do you like your surprise?”

“YES!” screamed Hermione, “I… I mean, yes Professor, I’m f- f- fine.”

Ginny softly tongued the soft place behind Fleur’s ear that they all loved so much. “Oh Ginny, you know me so well, you love me so well, you make me melt… more, please Ginny; you know what I want.”

Ginny did know, and she wanted it too. She sat on the floor (which apart from a bit of flour was spotlessly clean) between Fleur’s wide-spread legs and slid her tongue smoothly, slowly, and deeply into Fleur’s wet center. “Ohh…”

“…Oh, oh,” Hermione gasped.

“I think she has a fever,” opined Flitwick, “look how flushed she is. We should call Poppy at once, coming on this suddenly, it might be serious!”

McGonagall’s eyes met Madame Hooch’s, and a spark of understanding flew between them.

“Ginny, aahhh, Ginny! Yes, oh Yes! Ginny, I want to taste you too. Now!” Ginny didn’t need much encouragement. She stood up, Fleur turned to face her, her hard nipples were dusted with flour, as was the tip of her nose.

“You are so damn cute,” said Ginny admiringly.

“And you, notre petite Ginny, look…”

“…good enough to eat,” said Hermione breathlessly. Her already flushed face getting even redder.

“Everyone out!” ordered McGonagall, “Out I say! Madame Hooch and I will help Miss Granger. The rest of you, go, and we’ll get Hermione’s report later.” The staff fled, for the most part, for they feared some contagion. Flitwick lingered a moment, his tiny, lined old face etched with concern. Flitwick simply doted on Hermione.

“Are you sure, Minerva?” He asked. “It looks like she’s having some sort of fit.”

“She’ll be just fine, Professor,” reassured Hooch, “run along now, there’s a good fellow.” Flitwick left, and Madame Hooch was just about to close the door when she noticed that Luna was still in the room, watching Hermione with an expression of polite interest.

Ginny softly blew the flour off Fleur’s nipples, and then sucked the remaining dust from them, raking them with her teeth. Fleur moaned again…

Hermione let out a little growl.

“Ginny love, now, please now,” panted Fleur, and she pulled Ginny’s head from her breast and kissed her with all of her love. Their tongues mingled, Fleur could taste herself on Ginny. Ginny moaned softly into Fleur’s mouth.

“Oooohhhhh…,” said Hermione quietly, and her eyes closed.

“Miss Lovegood. You need to go now, really, we will attend Miss Granger. There is no need to worry.”

“Oh,” said Luna absently, ‘I’m not worried, I’m a bit envious, that’s all. She’s not sick you know. She’s just about to come like the Hogwarts Express that’s all. Isn’t she beautiful? I mean, just look at her skin glowing!” Luna sighed wistfully.

“That will be all, Miss Lovegood,” said McGonagall firmly, and she ushered Luna from the room and locked the door with a spell. Outside, Luna wandered dreamily through the Entrance Hall and out of doors. She felt like going for a little ride on Nightwing.

Ginny broke the kiss reluctantly, twisted her torso, wrapped her arms around Fleur’s waist and lifted her while turning her upside down. Both Fleur and Hermione loved it when Ginny did this, they loved her strength, and they both loved the …*Ginny*… taste. Ginny held her easily, and they each lovingly kissed their lovers other mouth.

“Let’s give her some privacy, Minerva,” said Madame Hooch. “The poor girl is going to be embarrassed enough as it is. Why don’t you and I just retire to your inner office for a while?” McGonagall smiled, and took Hooch by the hand. The two old friends went into McGonagall’s private study and shut the door.

“Fleur, je t’aime, ma belle Fleur…” Fleur was paying special attention to Ginny’s clitoris. Ginny really liked it when she did that. “OH, OHH, FLEUR!!!” Ginny plunged her tongue as far into Fleur as she could, which was pretty much as far as there was to go, and moved it in a slow circle, touching every spot inside the …*Fleur*… place in one constant, swooping motion. Fleur shook, Fleur jerked, and then she went rigid in Ginny’s arms and squeezed Ginny’s tongue for dear life. “GINNY!! AHH, GINNY! YES!”

G: “Our Fleur…”

F: “Our Ginny…”

H: “I am going to kill you both!”

F&G: “Oh, merde!”

“Ron!” Harry called loudly as he headed towards Ron’s room. “We’ve got to get a move on if we’re going to pick up some wine for dinner. Are you ready yet?” Harry opened Ron’s door, stepped into his room, and stopped dead in his tracks. Ron was standing with his back to the door, just pulling a dark green jumper over his head; the muscles in Ron’s back rippled and bulged as he pulled it on. Harry’s mouth got a little dry.

“Wazzat Harry?” said Ron from within the sweater. His red hair showed at the neck hole and then his head popped through. “Not again!” said Ron in disgust. “I’ve only had this jumper for a couple months, and the bloody thing’s too tight in the chest to wear. Bleedin’ laundry must be shrinking them.”

Harry thought the sweater looked pretty damn good on Ron, but he had to admit that it was a bit tight. Ron peeled the sweater off.

“I wish my clothes fit like yours Harry. You look like something out of GQ.” Ron had a point, Harry’s body had a greyhound strength and elegance to it, and clothes just seemed to hang properly no matter what they were. Ron particularly liked the burgundy cashmere jumper he was wearing with his stone washed jeans tonight. “It goes well with his eyes,” thought Ron.

“Yeah, well,” Harry cleared his throat, “if you don’t back off in the gym, you soon won’t be able to fit into anything,” said Harry, looking at Ron’s muscular torso.

“Got to keep fit mate,” Ron replied heartily, “World Cup in a couple months. If we take this one, we’ll be the first team ever to win three in a row.” Ron rummaged through this closet and came up with a larger jumper. He pulled it over his head. “Right then,’ he said, “let’s get going, can’t keep our girls waiting. What are you looking at?”

Harry was choking with suppressed laughter, he couldn’t speak, but he pointed to his head, and then to Ron’s head, and then to the mirror. Ron went and looked.

“’Struth,” said Ron, “what a mess. Thanks Harry, I reckon I’d be in a fair mess all the time without you lookin’ out for me.”

“We’ll always look out for one another Ron,” said Harry as he watched Ron brush his hair. “Let’s go visit our sisters.”

Hermione had recovered, and she looked around the room in mortification. No one was there. She stood up, and looked at the seat of her chair. Quickly she pulled out her wand and unleashed a series of drying and cleaning spells, finishing off with her robes. She had never been so embarrassed in her entire life. Yet she had to smile, she was going to kill them mind you, but she did have to smile. A door opened behind her, and she turned to see Professor McGonagall approaching, she looked a bit …rumpled. She sat in her place at the table, and gestured Hermione to the seat beside her. Hermione sat. “Professor, I…“

McGonagall smiled at her and raised her hand to silence her. “There is no need to explain Miss Granger, I understand perfectly. At least as perfectly as I am capable of. “ This last statement had a wistful tone to it. “You see, Xiomara has some Veela blood herself. Not as much as your Fleur, but enough that she saw that you were Bonded when you came to work here. She told me in strictest confidence, and you don’t have to worry in the least about either of us telling another living soul. We do know how rare and precious this is, and we both have a proper Veela reverence for it.”

“Are you and she Bonded, then?” asked Hermione.

“Alas, no, we are merely in love, and have been since our school days. Things were different then, and by now the habit of secrecy is rather automatic,” she sighed.

“However, you must take care that this doesn’t happen again. Think if it were to happen in the Great Hall, or your classroom. We’d have students wanking off and shagging all over the place!”

Hermione’s eyes went round, and then she giggled. “I’m sure that between the three of you, that you can come up with a solution. You are three of the finest minds I have ever been privileged to know. In the meantime, please ask your lovers to exercise a little more… restraint… while you are on the grounds.” Hermione nodded, and was filled with a warm gratitude for her old teacher and friend.

“Professor, would you and Madame Hooch do us the honor of joining us for dinner sometime?”

“We would be delighted, my dear, absolutely delighted,” and McGonagall smiled the very biggest and brightest smile that Hermione had ever seen on her. It took years off of her, and Hermione could plainly see how lovely the young Minerva must have been. “And, Hermione, if you and your lovers, in your studies of this phenomenon, ever stumble across anything that you think might lead to even a tithe of the Bond that you share… do let me know, won’t you?”

“I promise, Professor.”

“Minerva, dear, please call me Minerva when we’re alone. We are after all, sisters, are we not? I had best get back to Xio. I like to be there, when she wakes.” The smile this time was small and distant, as was the look in her eyes, but it was no less beautiful. Hermione kissed her on the cheek, and left.

Minerva quietly returned to her private office.

Xio was still sleeping, a soft smile on her face.

For a long time, Minnie simply stood and watched. And a smile grew on her face as well; it was as if her lovers’ lips had cloned themselves onto McGonagall’s face. The soft curving smile wiped years away, and the slow tears that found their way down the tracks carved by years of loving that remarkable Ravenclaw mind brought their own sort of renewal.

Minnie often just watched Xio sleep. And she always smiled as she did, and she always cried those gentle tears of joy and wonder when she watched, an aging feline guarding her heart, while she watched it lie beating before her.

“How kind has fate been,’ Minnie thought, not for the first time, ‘to send me someone so very marvelous to love. My sweet, strong, Ravenclaw girl. My Xiomara; the angel-child of my heart’s own longing. How very kind indeed….”

The warm feeling that Hermione had from that exchange lasted until she had passed beyond the Hogwarts Gates. Then she recalled the events leading up to that wonderful talk, and she got the least bit testy. She disappeared with a crack.

“Red or white, do you think?” Ron asked Harry.

“Both, I’m not sure what they are serving, and something sparkling for afters,” Harry answered. Harry waved the proprietor over, and pointed to several bottles.

“Case of each as usual then, Mr. Potter?” asked the shopkeeper as he made notes on his pad.

“Two cases,” said Ron, ‘and three of the sparkly stuff. This is an occasion.”

“That’s the spirit, Ron,” said Harry laughing, “loosen up those purse strings, and let the lolly get some air!” Ron grinned.

“I may yet get the hang of being rich. Send them to this address please, they have a standard delivery portal.”

“Right you are, Mr. Weasley, right you are. Good game last evening, both of you. Put a right trouncing on the Irish this time, you lads did.”

“Thanks,’ they said together. “Bulgaria next week. Krum. Hope you make it to the match,” finished Ron.

“I’d love to, sir, but you can’t get a ticket to that one for love nor galleons.”

Harry and Ron shared a glance, and Harry pulled a blank page from the order book in the man’s hand, he wrote across it in his untidy scrawl, and handed the note to him. “Just show that at the gate,” he said, “they’ll take you to our box. Enjoy the game.” They left the surprised and delighted shopkeeper and resumed their stroll to the girl’s house. They often walked, it was not too far, and they enjoyed the stretch.

“You know,” said Ron slowly, “one fan like that is worth more than the whole house load of gits and groupies we usually have to deal with.”

“Right you are, Mr. Weasley, right you are.” Harry grinned, and threw his arm ‘round Ron’s shoulders, almost like when they were mates in school. But not quite.

“We’re really sorry, ‘Mione,” said Ginny softly, her eyes downcast.

“That is not going to work on me, this time Ginerva Weasley. You can be cute, and pout all you like, but you two caused me outright mortification!” Fleur’s lower lip poked out a bit too, and she fluttered her eyelashes bashfully.

“Was eet ‘orrible for you ma chere?” Fleur asked in a thick accent that she knew very well lit a fire in Hermione.

“We’re very, very, sorry,” Ginny added, “we made you a present…”

Hermione knew she was doomed, there was no way she could look at the two of them and be angry over anything whatsoever. And of course they all knew that, this was just a game they played from time to time. They played a lot of games of this sort. “Oh very well, let’s see it then.”

Ginny and Fleur scampered eagerly to the refrigerator, and returned carrying a covered plate apiece. “You first, Fleur,” said Ginny eagerly. Fleur set the plate on the table in front of Hermione, and removed the cover with a flourish.

“Voila,” she said. Hermione goggled. Sitting before her and gently wiggling was a spell-o mold, and it looked like…

“Those are your breasts Fleur, like when you’re lying on your back!”

“You know me too well, chere. Now it is Ginny’s turn.” Hermione braced herself; Ginny was capable of anything. Ginny put her somewhat smaller serving dish in front of her, and almost shyly revealed her gift.

It was another spell-o mold. Hermione looked at it closely, it was very familiar, it was kind of curved, and there was a sort of valley in the center, and at the top of the valley was a rather prominent… “GINNY!” shrieked Hermione.

Ginny, her head bowed, her lower lip out, raised her eyes to Hermione’s face and said in a teeny little voice, “Do you like it, ‘Mione?” That did it. Hermione cracked up, they all did. They laughed a lot in that house too.

“We are NOT serving that to the boys,” said Hermione firmly. “You two still have to be punished and I think I know just the thing. Put these scrumptious and juicy-looking confections somewhere safe. I’ll deal with you two later. Oh, and Ginny, you still have a bit of flour on your nose, love, just there.” She tapped the side of her nose.

“I had a very interesting conversation with Professor McGonagall; did you know that she and Madame Hooch are lovers? They have been since they were students,” explained Hermione.

“I thought maybe so,” said Ginny, “I’ve seen some pretty melty-type looks pass between them. And a couple times when I got sent to McGonagall’s office, I thought I saw Hooch in her private study when she came out. They make a nice couple, I think.”

“They surely do, Minerva really loves her. She asked me to call her Minerva, in private. I invited them over for dinner, date unspecified. I think they will be really good friends. Hooch is part Veela, too. She knew we were Bonded,” Hermione explained.

“I don’t think I know her,” said Fleur, “what does she teach?”
“Flying,” answered Hermione, “she has very short, spiky hair, and the loveliest golden eyes.”

“Golden eyes?” Fleur queried. Hermione and Ginny nodded. “Then she must be of the Hawkwyng flock. They all have golden eyes, and it is a very old and much honored flock, indeed. They do very well in the games, as you might expect, they are wonderful fliers. Though they don’t usually need brooms.”

“Minerva asked me to let her know if we ran across anything in our studies of Veela magic that might let them share sort of like we do. Do you think it’s possible?”

“Well,” began Fleur, “I suspect that the potions we used on Ginny’s hair may have had an effect.”

“Damn sure affected me,” avowed Ginny. “But you may be onto something, my hair started to feel kind of alive not too long after you two started caring for it. Does this mean my inclusion in the Bond is some sort of chemical accident?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, if that were possible there would be many more bonded Veela. The potions we used are common, at least in my flock, the Silverwyngs. My Grandmother invented them, they are mostly herbs and natural oils, the magic just serves to bind them together. Now it might have something to do with how, er…, ‘playful’ your hair is.”

“Nah, that’s just me, “ said Ginny. “Playful….” She gave Fleur an unmistakable look.

“No time for that now, dears,” Hermione declared, “I need to clean up. Thanks largely to you two, I might add. Don’t be idle while I’m gone.” Hermione marched off to their room.

“We do love her so,’ said Ginny.

“Oui,” said Fleur, and she kissed the flour from Ginny’s nose. A bell rang at the back of the kitchen. “That will be the boys’ contribution to dinner, I expect.”

Ginny walked to the delivery portal door and opened it, “Merlin!” she said in awe. There was a mountain of wine in the portal, and one small gift–wrapped box with a card saying – “England for the Cup! From your biggest fan, Richard the wine-merchant.“

“Do you suppose he’s a fan because of quidditch, or because Harry and Ron are putting his kids through school?” asked Ginny.

“Perhaps both, put the package on the sideboard please, love, while I choose the wine for supper. “ Ginny was quite happy to leave the choice to Fleur, knowing that her family had been vintners for generations. Fleur was delighted to see several cases with the Delacour crest on them. Such thoughtful brothers they had.

Hermione returned to the kitchen, comfortably dressed in soft slacks and a jumper. “Whatever are we going to do with them,” she said, shaking her head in wonder.

“Whatever we can, I expect,” said Ginny. “They are dears though, even my brother. But don’t tell him I said so. In any case, they’re here.”

The greeting was everything you might hope for from a close group of friends too long apart, there were hugs, and Fleur kissed Ron and Harry firmly on each cheek. “Funny,” thought Ron, “that used to make my toes curl. I suppose I really do think of her as a sister, now.”

The dinner was a huge success, much was made over the deliciousness of each course, and Fleur and Ginny blushed furiously when Ron said that the bread was the best he’d ever put in his mouth. The wine was lovely, as well, but there was one thing wrong, and all three women noticed it. Harry and Ron hardly met each other’s eyes. The girls had watched them all evening. Sneaking glances at each other, but looking away quickly if they thought the other saw. For the first time in their memory, they seemed ill at ease around each other. Harry and Ron took the present from their fan into the drawing room while the women cleared the table, and Fleur, Hermione, and Ginny held a meeting in the kitchen.

“Don’t fret the dishes,” said Hermione, “the elves at school got wind of the dinner and literally begged me to let them wash up. They wanted to cook too, until I told them that you were doing it, Fleur.” Hermione could do a rather good house-elf impression by now, and she did; saying “You is not needing us to cook then, Mistress Hermione, Mistress Fleur is a wonderful cook!” They all giggled at that.

“Why do you suppose they call us ‘Mistress’ now?” asked Ginny. “They even call me that.”

“I’ll ask,” said Hermione. “Now, what’s up with Harry and Ron?”

“They did seem a little uncomfortable with each other,” mused Fleur, “do you think they’ve had an argument?”

“Tuh,” snorted Ginny, “it’s obvious. They’re so hot for each other you can smell it.”

That pronouncement was greeted by a stunned silence, but you could see them thinking. “Zut,” breathed Fleur.

“So that’s what that smell is, I thought maybe they came straight from practice, or something.”

“Nope,” said Ginny confidently, “that smell is pure bee-oh-wye, or perhaps em-ay-en, they have grown a bit. Growing up in a house full of boys discovering the flower of love, you get to know it. It’s a bit icky, but it’s what they have.”

“Leave it to Ginny to cut to the chase,” thought Hermione. “Do you think they know?” she asked aloud.

“I think perhaps so,” said Fleur slowly, “they are just frightened. Perhaps they don’t know how to tell one another.”

“I don’t suppose I can talk Harry into trying the Veela challenge on Ron, but I have to do something,” said Ginny. “They are our boys, after all.”

“Right then, “ pronounced Hermione, “I’ll tackle Ron. Fleur, I think they might be a bit uncomfortable talking with you about this.”

“I think so too. It should be you two, but you must both help me a moment first. I have an idea.” The three took the back way into the hall. It was in fact several moments before they returned, but they looked very pleased with themselves.

Fleur took two silver goblets from a cabinet, and Ginny and Hermione went into the drawing room. Fleur took out her wand, and tapped each cup, saying Portus each time she tapped. She smiled, and settled down to wait.

Hermione and Ginny entered the room to find Harry gazing out the window idly, while Ron stared into the fire. The gift lay forgotten and unopened on the couch. Ginny passed through the room, and when she reached the archway leading to the foyer, she turned and said, “’Oi, Harry. Come with me a minute, I need to ask you something.” Harry followed after Ginny, Ron started to rise, but Hermione put a hand on his shoulder and firmly pushed him back into his seat. In a tone long familiar to Ron, she spoke.

“Ronald, I have to talk to you about something important- “ she began.

“If it’s about the three of you being in love, then I already know, I’ve known for some time. It just didn’t seem my place to say anything about it.”

Hermione was surprised. “And it’s alright with you? I mean, that we’re all women, and that there are three of us. It is just a little unusual.”

“It’s unique, in my opinion,” said Ron. “Is it alright with me? You mean is it all right with me that my little sister is in love with, and is loved by, the two most beautiful women in the world, apart from her? That she’s happier than I’ve ever seen her, not just now and then, (Hermione shivered at that) but all of the time? That she’s cared for, looked after, and has simply everything that matters in life? That she holds in her heart something that no amount of money can buy? Is that what you mean?”

Hermione was staring at Ron, and she was aware that her mouth was gaping. She managed a small nod. Ron smiled, and it was a smile that somehow reminded her of the small smile that she had seen on Minerva’s face that afternoon. “You bet your sweet arse it’s alright with me, Hermione. I hope that one day I can know even a small part of what you three have.”

Hermione’ eyes were blurry with tears, and for a moment she thought Ron’s were as well. “Thank you, Ron. We all love you, you know. You and Harry.”

“I’m not nearly as thick as I pretend to be…it’s just always seemed easier. I know ‘Mione, I know you love me, and Harry.”

“Speaking of Harry, Ron…”

“Where are we going, Ginny?” asked Harry as he followed her down the hall.

“Just out in the garden, right through here,” answered Ginny, as she opened a door and stepped through it. Harry joined her, and she closed the door. It was a tiny garden, given over mostly to the herbs that they used for cooking, nothing like the manicured and landscaped gardens at Ron and Harry’s, but it suited them.

“So, have you got a new plant, or something?” Harry asked, looking around.

“When are you going to tell Ron that you’re in love with him?” Ginny could in fact get to the point of a thing.

Harry startled, but he didn’t protest. He slumped down on a nearby bench, and Ginny sat next to him. He didn’t bother asking how she knew, either. “I can’t tell him, we’ve been friends forever. We’re teammates; we’ve fought side by side through some of the worst, the most blood-soaked, foul-smelling parts of Hell that living men have ever seen. And now I’m supposed to kiss him and tell him I’m in love with him?”

“Yes, you are. What do you think got you through that Hell? Tell him how you feel, Harry. You owe that to Ron, and to yourself.”

“I’d like to, I would, but if he didn’t feel the same as me, it would wreck what we have now. I don’t dare. I can’t risk losing him altogether. I just can’t” There was a world of pain and longing in that statement, and Ginny felt it all.

“I know Harry, believe me I know. I went through the same thing with Fleur and Hermione.”

“Not quite the same thing, Gin. At least you knew they liked girls.”

“Harry, it’s not like that. We don’t love women, we love each other. Fleur, Hermione, and I love each other, …*us*… It’s love Harry, it’s just love, and love doesn’t care whether you’re a man or a woman. It just is. And I know Ron loves you, Harry. You can’t hide love from a Veela.”

“You’re not a…“ Harry stopped short, and looked at the freckled face before him. “You really are a Veela, somehow, how in …“

“That, my darling brother, I won’t say; but I’m pleased that you see it. Back to you. What are you going to do about this, Harry? And you’d better think quickly, because Hermione is chatting with Ron right this minute. She’ll likely take a little longer than I did to get to the heart of the thing, but she’ll get there. Don’t you doubt that.” Harry didn’t doubt it in the least.

“What about Harry?”

“You have to tell him how you feel.”

Ron went pale, then bright red. “What do you mean, how I feel?” he said very softly.

“Ron, you love him, all three of us can see it.”

“Of course I love him, he’s my best mate, and we’ve gone through Hell together! Sure, ‘course I love him,” he said gruffly.

“Ron,” said Hermione gently, “you’ve already slipped up. What you said about Ginny, and Fleur and me. You’re not so thick about love as you pretend to be.”

Ron dropped his face into his hands, and spoke from behind them, “Yeah, all right. I’m in love with Harry. What the hell am I gonna do with that, eh?”

“You have to tell him.”

“And suppose he doesn’t feel the same as me. He’s been out with a hundred girls, he doesn’t fancy blokes,” said Ron miserably.

“He fancies you,” Hermione said simply.

“Do you really think so?” he asked with a tiny bit of hope in his eyes.

“No, I don’t think so, I’m perfectly sure of it. But that doesn’t mean it will be easy to tell him. Important things are seldom easy, Ron. But they are worth the effort, in the end,” she said gently, and she kissed his cheek.

“I’ll think about it,” said Ron, ‘that’s all I can promise at the moment.”

“Well,” Hermione said, smiling, “that’s a start, anyway. I’ll go and help Fleur with the drinks.” She left him, and he was once again staring into the fire.

“How did it go?” Fleur asked her.

“He did acknowledge it; he hardly fought it at all. But I don’t know if he’ll be able to pluck up the courage to say anything.”

“Yes, it is hard. I was never able to tell you of my feelings, even after I realized that I had them,” admitted Fleur. Hermione reached out and touched the softness of Fleur’s hair.

“Thank goodness for the hair,” and they kissed.

“Get a room, you two,” said Ginny as she entered the kitchen.

“Got one, thanks,” responded Hermione, ‘how did you fare with Harry?”

“Not too bad, he knows how he feels, and he knows that we say that Ron feels the same. But I’m not sure he’ll be able to tell Ron.”

H: “Plan ‘B’ then?

F&G: “Oui.

Hermione and Ginny carried bottles and glasses into the drawing room while Fleur trailed behind, carrying the silver goblets. They stepped into what might be best described as an “awkward silence.”

“What did the wine-merchant give you?” asked Ginny.

“Dunno,” Ron answered, glad to have a subject for speech, “open it, Harry.” Harry picked the parcel up and was examining the wrapping when Fleur stepped into the room.

“Catch!” she said, and Harry and Ron looked up to see a large silver object speeding at each of them. Of course, it was nothing for them to catch them, Harry didn’t even drop the box, but they were a little surprised by the strong pull at the midsection that always accompanied portkey usage.

“Well then,” said Hermione briskly, “the rest is up to them, for twenty-four hours there is simply no way for anyone to reach them. Now, as for you two very naughty girls, I have decided what your punishment shall be.”

Fleur and Ginny were caught between amusement and just the least little bit of excitement.

“You shall both appear before me in our Bonding Room in ten minutes time. You shall wear what you are now wearing, and you shall leave your hair in its bindings. Have I made myself clear?” They nodded, and Hermione swept past them headed for the kitchen.

“Do you think she’s really angry?” asked Fleur.

“I don’t think so, we’d know that, but she is definitely up to something. We’d better be on our toes, I reckon.” Fleur nodded in agreement.

Ron and Harry landed on their feet; they were much better with portkeys than they used to be. They looked around them. “This is the guest room at the girls’ house,” Ron said. Harry laughed.

“Yeah, it is. Well, it was funny, let’s go back in and give them their credit. Portkeys aren’t that easy to do.” He turned to the door, but there was absolutely no sign of one. Instead, there was a note on the wall written in Fleur’s flowing script.

“Notre beau freres,” it began, “we have decided to take a hand in this matter. We love you both too much to stand by and watch you suffer this way. Talk to each other, we beg you. You will not be able to leave this room for twenty-four hours from the time of transport.” They checked their watches, it was 8 PM, near enough. “We know that you will try to get out, but please don’t waste too much time trying. Remember that there are few chances for happiness, please don’t squander this one…”

Votre Souers

Harry cleared his throat. “Well that’s taking a joke a bit far, but we’ll fix it.”

“Yeah,” Ron said heartily, “imagine them, thinking three girls can pen up Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.”

“Right you are, Mr. Weasley, right you are!”

Fleur and Ginny appeared as, and when, instructed, to find Hermione wearing a beautiful set of robes of a rich, wine-colored velvet fabric, her hair was still up, and she was not smiling. “Fleur, stand there,” she said pointing to a spot on the floor, “Ginny, you over there.” They complied, and ended up beside each other, a few feet apart, facing Hermione.

“Now then, I hope that you are feeling properly guilty about the embarrassment you caused me in front of my colleagues.” They nodded. “I know it was fun, believe me, I know.” Fleur and Ginny glanced at each other and smiled. "But, in your enthusiasm you neglected to cast a muting spell on the kitchen so that I would not become quite so, involved in your baking. Therefore, (“Here it comes”, thought Fleur and Ginny) I have decided that your punishment shall be to stand right where you are, with your hair bound and your arms at your sides, whilst I enjoy my dessert. I may not give you any at all, but if there is any left when I am done, I shall invite you to join me. You shall not move until I tell you to. Do you agree?”

They took a minute to think. It sounded all right, maybe a tiny bit silly. It wasn’t like they were starving, and Fleur and Ginny supposed it did have a kind of balance to it. They had certainly had a little dessert when Hermione couldn’t really have any, when you thought about it. The reason that they had to think was that a promise among them was as binding as an unbreakable vow. It wasn’t that they would die if they broke one. It was that they would rather die than break one. The Bonding was very powerful. Still and all, it seemed little enough, and it was all in fun, anyway. “We agree,” they said in concert.

And the trap was sprung.

“I never would have believed it,” said Harry; impressed in spite of himself. “There is absolutely no way to get out of here. None! I can’t even begin to understand the magic they used to seal this place. Voldemort was a bloody squib next to those three.”

“They’re something, right enough,” agreed Ron, “at least they left us food and drink. What the hell do they expect us to talk about for twenty-four hours in this little room anyway?” He blushed as soon as he said it.

“Yeah,” said Harry, blushing as well. “What?”

Ron took a deep breath; Fleur was right, Hermione was right, there are so few chances. His face looked like it would burst, but the voice that came out of it was very small indeed. “I’m in love with you, Harry. I mean, in love. I can’t carry on with the parties, the groupies; it sickens me. There just has to be more.”

The words struck Harry like a blow. It was what he longed to hear, even perhaps, deep inside, expected to hear. But to actually hear it... Harry couldn’t speak.

Ron waited, looking at the floor, the silence stretched interminably. Was Hermione wrong? Had Hermione ever been wrong? He raised his eyes to Harry’s, those startling green eyes that had seen so much horror, just as his had.

He waited.

“I hope this teaches you a lesson,” said Hermione briskly, but inside she was laughing her arse off. She put the chair back by the table, walked to the edge of the bed, and turned to face Fleur and Ginny. Hermione’s face changed.

F&G: “Uh-oh.”

F: “She wouldn’t.”

G: “She might….

She did.

Hermione slowly unbuttoned the red velvet robe, the buttons went all the way to the floor, and she opened every one of them. She reached up and pulled the robe off of her right shoulder, then her left. She looked right at Fleur and Ginny and let the robe hit the floor. It wasn’t as if they had never seen her nude before, of course. But they had an idea what was ahead, and there wasn’t a thing that they could do about it. It was brilliant, and their minds applauded while their bodies rebelled at the enforced stillness. Their hair, of course, was not happy in the least.

Hermione slowly reached up, and began to loosen her hair, Fleur and Ginny watched as her breasts rose, and then Hermione’s hair spilled about her in a cloud. There seemed to be a lack of air in the room. Certain parts of Fleur and Ginny were beginning to tingle. Hermione said nothing, and slowly began to caress her breasts with her hands, while her hair caressed other parts of her. Her lips parted, and they caught a glimpse of Hermione’s tongue. Hermione’s breathing deepened, her eyes closed, and one hand began to slowly slide down across her ribs. It kept going.

G: “She won’t”

F: “Yes, she will.”

She did.

Hermione moved one foot to the side, and her fingers slid through the soft brown curls and pressed. “Oohh,” came a quiet sound from her lips. Fleur and Ginny melted, and there wasn’t a thing they could do about it but stand there and watch, and feel. It felt very good, but it was rather a limited experience compared to the usual in this room. Hermione’s hand began to move in a circular fashion, and a very faint sheen of dew appeared on her forehead. The hand stopped and the two outside fingers curled into her palm.

F: “She couldn’t.”

G: “She damned well better. This is HOT!”

She did.

Hermione plunged two fingers into herself, and her hips bucked, her mouth opened wide, her head rocked back. “AAHHHhhh”, came the sound from deep within her.

Fleur and Ginny shifted uneasily, but they stuck to the deal. Hermione’s fingers began to slide slowly in and out of her pussy, shining wet in the light of the room. Fleur and Ginny caught just a trace of …*Hermione*… in the air. Their mouths had dried up when Hermione’s robe fell to the floor. They weren’t dry now. Hermione’s hips began to move… “oh, oh, yes..” came the sound from her lips.

There wasn’t a thing they could do about it.

Harry smiled, “Ron Weasley is one hell of a bloke,” he said loudly, and then added much more softly, “and I’m in love with him.” He took the long step between himself and Ron, and embraced him. Ron’s arms wrapped around Harry and they held each other tightly. “Don’t kill me Ron;” gasped Harry, “you’re nearly as strong as Ginny.”

Ron eased up a bit, and pulled his head back so that he could see Harry’s face. “Don’t be silly Harry; no one’s as strong as Gin.” They smiled at each other, the tension eased from their faces, and they saw in each other’s eyes exactly what they were looking for. Their lips met. It wasn’t bad, for a first kiss, which is what it was for both of them, really.

“YES, OH, OH Yes!” cried Hermione as one hand vigorously massaged her lower mouth. Her other hand slowly pinched and rolled first one nipple, then the other. She began to pant. A faint sheen of dew appeared on her breasts.

Fleur and Ginny had no dew on them. They were sweating like longshoremen. They could feel Hermione’s hands as she touched herself, and they remembered, oh how they remembered, what it was like to touch those same places on her body. They could even on maddening occasion, smell the scent of her that they so loved, and they could almost taste her. But not quite.

Hermione’s hips began to jerk sharply, her hand moved faster, and a low, keening, sound came from deep within her.

G: “Soon.”

F: “Pleaseletitbesoon!

“Ah, Ah, AH!!... ooooh.,” gasped Hermione as she slowly straightened up and smiled as a cat smiles at it’s prey. She brought her glistening fingers to her mouth and slowly licked them, never taking her gaze from her quivering lovers. Fleur and Ginny were shaking, and there definitely wasn’t enough air in the room, their chests heaved as they fought for breath. Hermione thought it quite a lovely sight.

G: “She’ll let us go now, won’t she?”

F: “She has to!”

She didn’t.

To be Continued in Part Two

Fic: "Love's Fire" Luna/Hermione R

redbeargrl@gmail.com — Tue, 11 Mar 2008 03:23:57 GMT

Author: Lash_Larue
Title: "Love's Fire"
Pairing: Luna/Hermione
Rating: R for violence
Summary: Love hurts, but they deserve it
Warnings:Violence, some torture, if you look at it that way.
Word Count: 1600 or so
Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling

“Love’s Fire”

Hermione Granger was past anger, past fear, past self-recrimination. As she lay in a crumbling portion of the London underground, naked and bound helpless on a rough table, she was firmly in the grip of despair.
After surviving the war and its perils, she had been captured by no more sophisticated a means than the cosh of a common mugger. Of course, since then things had rather gone downhill.

“Delicious girl…” said a horribly familiar voice. ‘I was cheated of my taste of you at Malfoy Manor, but I don’t think we’ll be interrupted this time,” growled Fenrir Greyback. Hermione felt the heat of his foul breath on her cheek, followed by the rasp of his tongue. “Of course, my assistants here will have their turn at you first, an appetizer, so to speak, before the main course. The muggle who knocked you unconscious has of course been killed for his temerity in attacking you, even though we put him up to it.”

Hermione looked down past her feet at the two wizards standing there. She did not know them by sight, but the dark mark on their arms was enough information. They licked their lips as they gazed at her nude body.

Hermione had no wand, no weapon, and her head pounded from the blow that rendered her unconscious. But she was a Gryffindor, and she resolved not to show fear, not to admit to pain, no matter what was happening to her. Greyback’s tongue ran up the inside of her leg and lingered for a time on her sex, Hermione felt as if she were immersed in sewage.

“Lovely girl, tasty girl,” snarled Greyback, “so tender, so toothsome. Hurry up you two, and take your pay, I have waited long enough to taste this girl’s flesh. I will not wait much longer before I feed.”

“Well,” thought Hermione as she struggled for control, “it seems he means to kill me rather than make me into a werewolf, at least I will not be under his dominion after death. Still and all, the prospect is unappealing.” Hermione was drawing deeply on her reserves of courage, and they were deep indeed, but she nonetheless felt the pricking of dread, and of regret for things undone. “Most of all, I wish that I had told Luna how very much I love her. That I had given her my heart, before this monster ate it.”

“Hurry, I tell you,” snarled Greyback as saliva ran down his chin, “be quick or be gone!”

There came the loud “crack” of apparition.

“Luna!” cried Hermione.

“Hello Hermione,” said Luna calmly, “I am so glad that I have arrived in time.”

“Expeliarmus!” cried one of the Death-Eaters, and Luna’s wand soared from its usual place behind her ear. Hermione’s last faint hope vanished.

“Well boys, it looks like desert has arrived! Strip this one and let’s see what’s on the menu,” ordered Greyback. One of the Death-Eaters took a step towards Luna, but halted as she gazed at him.

“If it is your intention to remove my clothes, I will save you the trouble. I shouldn’t like them to be damaged.” Luna whisked her robes off over her head and stood calmly before them. There were several gasps audible, not the least from Hermione.
,
Naked, Luna Lovegood was not beautiful, as Hermione was. She was not enticing, as Hermione was. Luna Lovegood was perfect. There was neither flaw nor blemish on her, from the gold of her hair to the pink of her toes, it was as if the avatar of beauty had strode unabashed into the squalid little room, and stood glowing before them.

In a moment however, the ability of the Death-Eaters and the Werewolf to even vaguely comprehend that kind of glory had faded, and their lust surged to the fore.

Luna lifted her arms above her head, and said softly, “Flammae ex adyto cordis.” She burst into golden flame. The Death-Eaters cringed back from the heat, and when Luna gestured towards Hermione, a wall of golden flame surrounded her. She gestured at the Werewolf and the Death-eaters, and they too were ringed in golden fire.

“It must be a glamour!” snarled Greyback. “It isn’t burning her!” He put his hand into the flame, and drew it back with a cry. He looked hurriedly at his hand and found it undamaged. “I thought so,” he said, “it hurts, but does no damage.”

“Good enough for me,” snarled one of the men, “a body like that is worth a bit of pain!” He leaped at the wall of fire, briefly incandesced, and crumbled to ashes.

“It won’t kill a werewolf,” acknowledged Luna, “but it is quite fatal to humans.”

“Then I will take you myself,” snarled Greyback, and he tensed to spring.

“I thought it might come to this,” said Luna serenely, “Manus ferrea adumbbro flamae.” A huge hand of fire and shadow appeared, and as Luna closed her hand it seized Greyback and dangled him in the air. He raged and struggled, but the hand simply held him aloft. Luna looked at the remaining wizard as he trembled within the fire. “You I will spare to spread the word amongst your fellows, NO ONE, is to threaten this woman again, or the fire will bite you, and them, whoever they may be. Do you believe me?” The trembling man nodded his head. “Then be silent and watch, that you may bear true witness.” She moved to Hermione and with her fingers burned through the ropes binding her, to Hermione the flames felt comfortingly warm. “Take my robes, Hermione, I will conjure more for me after I am finished here.” She turned to face the cursing werewolf.

“You have had more than your fair portion of chances. I will no longer allow you to share this world; I wish you luck in the next one.” Luna turned her hand and the shadow fist set him upright on the table where Hermione had been bound. Real fear showed in the eyes of the Werewolf, for a moment. “Coniugere argenteus flammae,” she hissed. Greyback howled in agony, from his feet and his hands a silver fire burned towards his body. The progress was slow. Luna looked at him for a moment, and then turned her gaze on the captive wizard. “Watch it all, and learn the price.” She turned to Hermione and smiled.

For Hermione, it was like the sun rising in that dank and fetid place and the agonized screaming of Greyback as he slowly burned did nothing to take away from it. “How did you find me?” she asked.

“I told you that my mother was an extraordinary witch. While we were still in Hogwarts, I cast on you a spell that she invented, “Congruere erus demoi.” It allows me to go to my true love when they are in peril, no matter where they are.”

“But you never appeared like this during the war, and I was in danger many times, then,” asked Hermione to the backdrop of screams from Greyback, and the sound of retching from the captive Death-Eater.

“Then, you had not declared your love for me, not even to yourself. Only once that was done could the spell be fulfilled. You do love me, do you not?”

“With every fiber of my being,” whispered Hermione.

“And I you, isn’t this just the loveliest thing?” Hermione looked at the pile of ashes on the floor, at the vomiting Death-Eater, and the werewolf that was now little more than a torso with a screaming head on it.

“It is indeed,” said Hermione as she stepped forward and embraced Luna. “What are these spells you used, and why does the fire not burn me?”

“It does not burn you because it is the fire of my heart, the fire of my love for you. It can never harm you, only warm you. This was the spell that killed my mother. She got it wrong, but she left very complete notes, and I worked it out eventually.” Luna glanced at Greyback, his howls had ceased, and the silver fire slowly met itself in what had been the center of his body, there was a puff of oily smoke, and a foul smell, and then the fire was gone. There were no ashes left of Greyback. “That spell turned his blood to molten silver; I made up that spell after he threatened you in Malfoy Manor. This was the first chance I have had to actually use it. It works on humans of course, but on Werewolves it is particularly slow and painful. I made it just for him,” Luna said brightly. A choked cry of terror came from the remaining abductor and would-be rapist. Luna turned to face him, and waved her hand, the fire subsided. The man showed no inclination to move.

“Go to your fellows, and tell them what has happened here. If you lie, or do not tell every one of your cronies what happened here, and why, the same spell that killed Greyback will strike you. I would hurry if I were you. Oh, take this with you, for even thinking of raping my beloved. She gestured, and two wet, pink, globules hit the floor. The man did not even think to yell, but he did run. Luna retrieved her wand, and conjured robes for herself. Hermione tried to hide her disappointment.

“Shall we go home, my love?” asked Luna.

“I am already home,” answered Hermione, “I am with you.”

"Appreciated" - Millicent/Pansy - NC-17

redbeargrl@gmail.com — Sat, 23 Feb 2008 00:16:25 GMT

Title: Appreciated
Author: alwaysasnapefan
Pairing: Millicent Bullstrode/Pansy Parkinson
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,979
Authors Notes: My first truly sexy femmeslash. At the bottom is an image. I always pictured Pansy with brown almost reddish hair, and fairly long. Until Jo tells me otherwise, that's my Pansy.
Summary: Pansy and Millicent don't feel appreciated. But that could change.
Disclaimer: Jo owns them. Lucky!

( Appreciated )

Blood Lust (Bellatrix/Rita, NC-17)

redbeargrl@gmail.com — Tue, 19 Feb 2008 22:43:33 GMT

Title: Blood Lust
Author: arcadian_dream
Pairing: Bella/Rita
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1842
Author's Notes: for paddynmoon, who requested some femmeslashy Bella.
This fic assumes the existence of a friendship and sexual relationship between Bellatrix and Rita Skeeter.
Timeline: 1969/1970 (i.e. Bella's seventh year at Hogwarts).
Warnings: violence, explicit sex, angsst, elements of sub/dom and H/C.
Disclaimer: JKR's, I'm just playing.

http://ria-awesome.insanejournal.com/11484.html#cutid1

Fic: Now and Then 2 - "Ginny Juice" NC-17

redbeargrl@gmail.com — Tue, 19 Feb 2008 21:38:52 GMT

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
************************************************************************************

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?