Title: light a fire
Author: tryslora
Characters/Pairings: Luna/Hermione, Hermione/Draco, Luna/Hermione/Draco (various background sightings as well)
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Chosen: dancing, fire play, melolagnia, outdoor sex, Hermione/Luna
Other Warnings: Beltane orgy?
Word Count: 1,616
Summary/Description: The music thrums within her bones, tempts her, toys with her, dances across her skin until she has no choice but to dance as well.
Author's Notes: Maybe I took the themes as a challenge this month, but it was FUN. Thanks as always to Eidheann, without whom I would be lost.


The music thrums within her bones, tempts her to shed her clothes and get up and move so she can feel it dance upon her skin. Hermione flushes with the thought, warm from sitting by the fire, warm from the drink, from the idea that she could be naked here, like so many others already are.

Perhaps warm from other things, too, as figures move to the music, sliding, hopping, skipping and twirling around the flames.

The spring air is cool but Hermione doesn’t feel it; all she feels is the heat.

“Come dance with me.” Luna stops in front of her, pale skin flushed pink, nipples tipped bright rose as they stand up perky and hard. She sways, her hair loose in a bright halo around her. Hermione drops her gaze, trying not to stare at her breasts, and instead she finds herself looking right at the pale curls nestled between Luna’s legs, glistening faintly with tiny droplets.

Luna’s laugh is soft as she crouches down, her knees parted, giving a glimpse of the soft lips hidden by those curls. She puts her hands to either side of Hermione’s face, tilts her head up until they look each other in the eyes. “Come dance,” she says again, and Hermione comes to her feet without answering.

“Do I have to undress?” she asks, and a flush spreads across her skin when Luna answers by picking open the buttons of Hermione’s blouse, pushing it off her shoulders.

“Don’t worry, we’re all naked here,” Luna assures her. “Look.” She turns Hermione, presses in close behind her as she works the clasp of her bra, letting it loose so that it slides from her heavy breasts. Luna’s fingers slide up, cupping Hermione’s breasts, teasing at her nipples as she takes the bra away and lets it fall to the side. “Don’t you see?”

It’s hazy around the fire, the heat making waves in the air, lending it all a dreamlike quality. But when Hermione looks, she does see.

She sees Parkinson on her knees, fingers deep in her own twat as she swallows Zabini’s thick cock, while Neville presses in behind her, slowly feeding his fat prick into her.

She sees Ron straddling Harry’s lap, their mouths pressed together as their hips move in gentle motion, dicks sliding together.

She sees Malfoy standing off to one side, alone while he strokes his prick, fingers pinching at his own nipples. His gaze flicks from group to group, avidly taking it all in.

When his gaze lights upon Hermione, she flushes brightly, her eyes closing and head tilting back, just as Luna manages to open the button on her trousers and slide her fingers inside. Deft, delicate fingers move between panties and skin, slipping through Hermione’s arousal and parting her lips to gently circle her swollen clit.

“Dance with me,” Luna says, and this time Hermione sheds the remainder of her clothes to follow.

Now that her skin is free, she feels the music drift over her, tickling her, arousing her. She sighs into it, moves with the beat and raises a hand, reaching for the notes and pulling them to her. It washes against her with every touch from Luna, shattering against her skin in a rush of a crescendo, retreating in a slow fade.

She’s breathing hard and aching by the time they complete their first circuit around the fire.

“What next?” she asks, trusting Luna to know the traditions, to help teach her the wizarding ways. Her breath is rushing through her, taking away her inhibitions until she feels like she is floating while standing still. “Show me. Please.”

Luna considers her, head tilted, looking up. “Kneel,” she says, and Hermione does so, knees finding the ground and anchoring her there as she waits for instruction. Luna’s hand touches her hair, frees it from the bun until it bushes out around her, giving Luna something to hold on to as she nudges her head down. “Stay here,” Luna whispers. “And remember, whatever might come to you tonight, it’s okay.”

Hermione bows her head and closes her eyes, letting her soul drift on the music. She sways with the beat, unable to stay still, wanting to reach out, to take hold, to grab on to the pleasure that swirls around her, giving everyone else heat and leaving her wanting.

Her hands come up as her head does, and she pulls the closest person to her, swallows his prick down without looking to see who it is.

“Fuck.”

Eyes of ice stare down at her, set within a face flushed delicate rose. Malfoy’s prick tastes like sweat and musk, and he drives it into her mouth, his fingers twisting and tangling in her hair. She blinks at him, his prick heavy on her tongue, and he groans.

“Your mouth, Granger,” he whispers, and she hears his voice above all the others. “Sweet, hot. You feel so good.”

He tastes good. It’s not what she expected, a hint of cinnamon somewhere in her mouth, the scent of vanilla in her nose. She knows that it’s her mind, that the magic plays tricks on her, but it’s still good to swallow him down like this, open her mouth and relax and let him slide into her throat as her eyes flutter closed and she moans around him.

“That looks lovely.” Luna speaks softly as she crouches behind Hermione, her soft breasts brushing against her back, the moist wet heat of her slit straddling Hermione’s hips. “I am going to mark you with the fire, Hermione. Is that all right? It won’t hurt, I promise.”

She lets Malfoy slip from her mouth with a wet pop, a small string of saliva binding them together still as he hovers near her lips as if he’s waiting to slide back in. “I’m yours, Luna,” she tells her. “I trust you.”

She feels herself tilting backwards as Luna tugs, laying her upon the ground, her breasts heavy against her chest, her knees up and legs falling open. Malfoy goes to his knees between her legs, brushes his fingers through her thick curls, and she cries out, begs for him to do more, and he slides two fingers in knuckle deep, twisting his hand as he fucks her hard with them.

Luna murmurs words that Hermione can’t hear, but she watches her brush oils across her chest in patterns that make every bit of sense and no sense at all. Hermione can’t read the runes, but she knows they must mean something from the care that Luna takes with each whorl and line. The oil pricks at her skin, leaves her flushed and waiting, knowing there is something more as she writhes on the end of Malfoy’s fingers.

“More,” she whispers, and he gives her one more finger, his thumb on her clit, while Luna gently anoints each rigid nipple with oil.

Luna reaches back, and when Hermione looks next, she has a flame cupped in her hand, taken from the bonfire. She cradles it and blows, and the flames rushes out, bursting across Hermione’s skin, racing through the path the oils set and leaving her momentarily on fire, the heat searing into her and disappearing again without a trace. She can feel where it was, knows the flames have etched deeply inside of her without leaving scars or burns.

And she wants now, oh how she wants.

“Please,” she begs. “Please.”

Malfoy spreads her knees further, positions himself to drive his cock into her, lifting her hips to meet him as his thumb roughly slides over her clit. She shudders hard, breaking apart around him, but he doesn’t give her time to come down, pushing her back to the edge with every thrust.

There’s a thick scent of arousal, and Luna moves to surround her head with soft skin and the heat of her thighs, musky curls above her lips. Hermione opens her mouth, licks out with her tongue to flick across the swollen nub, then closes her eyes as Luna settles closer, rotating her hips over Hermione’s mouth.

She reaches up to grip Luna’s bottom, dig her fingers into pliant skin, hold on to the softness as Luna grinds down, rubbing against Hermione’s tongue and lips, whimpering as Hermione does her best to fuck her tongue between Luna’s folds. She plays with Luna’s rosebud arse, teases the small pucker as she suckles at her clit and feels Luna’s thrusts stutter.

Her own body is on fire, every little touch a lick of fresh flame. She comes again, clenching tight around Malfoy, then again until she feels like there is nothing left to her but one long orgasm. She is shivering, shaking, overspent and unable to stop as he pounds into her, as Luna slides over her face, as they both cry out and orgasm on her and inside of her.

She comes back to earth slowly, the beat of the music still stamped in her veins, the heat of the fire playing across her skin. Malfoy’s fingers dance over her hip, and Luna’s words whisper tunelessly against her cheek.

She is limp and sated.

“What will be will be,” Luna whispers. “On this night of all nights, we take what is given, and we give what is needed.”

Words whispered against her side, kissed into her breast, Malfoy echoes, “What will be will be.”

It feels like a ritual, and Hermione says the words as well, uncertain what it means, only that it is right in this moment and that there is nothing wrong with the world. Tonight is a night of fire and magic, heat and lust, and this is all that she needs.