Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Weasley's Wizard Wheezes	By : CryingCinderella Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 131968 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 30
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor do I make any money from writing these stories.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
A/N: Please forgive my tardiness. Real life happened. But here's hoping that 20,000ish words with some more domisticity and product testing will help make up for it!

Hermione’s mind was a whirling dervish. It had kept her from sleeping that night. She refused to admit that he was the reason that she couldn’t settle her thoughts long enough to find rest; chalking up the tossing and turning to the unusually painful cramps that were accompanying her menstrual cycle. She had been a fortunate witch since hitting puberty, never having the horrendous aches and pains she’d heard others complain about, mostly just suffering from mild headaches and bouts of unexpected fatigue. The fact that she hadn’t rested save for a few winks at a time only furthered the discomfort she found herself in when morning came. Over and over in her mind she ran the scenario of what had happened. His words; which kept echoing in her head made her mind melt trying to make sense of them. I suppose telling you not to be so familiar with me at this point would sound absurd. Though everything he seemed to say on the matter often sounded absurd to her, she tried not to read too much into it. Only doing so made her analyze it further, which resulted in more questions and a throbbing headache.
                She couldn’t be bothered to pull herself out of bed for breakfast; partially because of the rolling cramps that were roaring through her lower abdomen, and partially for fear that she might encounter him in the kitchen. She’d been stewing on what she would say if she had encountered him; though nothing she’d thought of thus far seemed remotely close to good enough or even really appropriate. There was too much to think about. The fact that he had in his own right opened up to her; though to an outside eye one could hardly call it that. The fact that she had pressed his buttons yet again, forcing him to yield; though she suspected that he was only letting her think as much because Severus Snape yielded to no witch or wizard without standing to gain something in the process. She couldn’t, however, wrap her mind around what it was he had to gain by doing as he had done.
                Unveiling his Dark Mark to her was more than just a gesture. It was something deep and puzzling; a permanent reminder of his past, of his shames. And to reveal them to her; a muggle-born of all people, it baffled her. She knew that he knew that she knew it was there. Ever since her fourth year and everything that had ensued during the war made that a fact of life. But to let her touch it, even if he’d brushed her hand away after a time; that was something that made her brain explode just trying to rationalize it. She knew that the mark, faded as it was, was nothing more than a reminder, a haunting token and souvenir of a life that had all but left him for dead at the end of the day. And while she knew that he was no more defined by it than she was by her blood status, there had been something stunning about him willingly allowing her to touch it.
                It was her lingering touch that had caused him to brush her away. He’d tensed with her fingertips but it hadn’t been until she’d concealed the mark from view with her palm that he’d rebuked her, though gently, and left her alone in the kitchen puzzling. Trying to assign significance to that was like trying to unravel the seven wonders of the world. On top of that conundrum she was plagued by the fact that she had leaned into him after he’d covered his arm. While her words had been saucy her stomach had been shaking with nerves. Had she honestly intended to kiss him? The thought now swirled wildly in her mind. There was an inexplicable desire to taste his lips; the yearning inside of her flaring up every time she found herself in close proximity with the wizard.
                Hermione rationalized that she had wanted to kiss him in the kitchen the night before for two reasons. The first being because it would have thrown him severely out of whack, and the second being that she desperately yearned to reassure him. Despite being sassy and giving him lip there was a need that burned inside of her to prove to him that the mark on his forearm held no meaning for her. He had taken the initiative to reveal it and therefore she reckoned that he must have thought that she still thought something of it. With a great sigh of frustration she rolled over into her bed and vowed to write all of her thoughts down in her journal just to try and keep her notions straight.
                Too much thinking along with inadequate sleep and the surging waves of pain coursing through her uterus left her more than irritable when she finally hauled herself out of bed. At first she’d thought a heated bath would help, but remembering that she hadn’t bothered to enchant the plumbing to stay hot, she thought better of it. And then her body thought that some sort of sustenance might be in order, but remembering that Snape’s pantry had no chocolate or other rich comforting foods, she eventually found herself flopped back down her figure lying prone horizontally across the cushy mattress.
                With her head buried in the duvet she hadn’t heard him in the hallway nor had she heard him standing in her doorway until he cleared his throat. When she lifted her head, craning her neck at an awkward angle back over her shoulder to keep from having to move off the mattress, she groaned; letting her head flop back into the sheets. “Do you always loom in doorways?” she grumbled into the fabric, though if he heard her he didn’t let on.
                “Letters arrived by owl this morning from Mr. Weasley,” he said, tossing her letter without ceremony. It landed by her elbow. With another groan, Hermione felt about for the errant envelope until it was clutched in her fingers. Tearing at the seal, she lifted her head long enough to read its contents.

                Hermione,
                                No work this evening there was some sort of explosion in the shop overnight, I think I forgot to lock up some of the pygmy puffs and they appear to have gotten into one of the latest banging bobber products. If you need the week for girl things, let me know and we can take a pause. Otherwise I have a few things that I think you and Severus can test tomorrow, found a bunch of stuff that looks like it’s reserved mostly for kissing and oral sex if you’re keen. See you tomorrow about half five.
                George
                She frowned. “Did your letter say the same thing?” Silence met her question and she rolled her eyes, though she knew he couldn’t see her. With great effort, Hermione forced herself over onto her back and propped herself up on both elbows. But she found herself gazing at an empty doorframe. Severus had vanished. With an irritated sigh she let the letter slip from her fingers. It floated to the floor and landed softly against the wooden boards just under the edge of the bed.    She wasn’t sure whether to be distraught or grateful that George had canceled their evening’s work. At present she was in too much pain to think about testing anything let alone worrying about how she would do so while bleeding.
                After much debate she convinced herself that lying about in her bed all day was only going to make her cramps worse and that the least she could do was have a walk to the shops to retrieve some chocolate ice cream. Nearly a half hour of fussing with clothes that didn’t pinch her already bloated stomach found her dressed and in the kitchen with Severus nowhere in sight. For the moment she was grateful to be alone. She brewed herself a strong cup of the tea he’d prescribed the night previous and after consuming it felt marginally better.
                Her trip to the shops had been mostly a success; procuring several pints of her favorite ice cream, double chocolate fudge ripple, as well as several bags of bite-size triple fudge brownies. Upon leaving the grocer it had begun to pour; the heavy storm dashing away all signs of daylight and Hermione made haste back to Spinner’s End, forgetting to pop by the chemist for a bottle of Feminax. Once again the kitchen was empty, as well as the sitting room. With his bedroom door closed she presumed he was holed away, doing what she didn’t care so long as he wasn’t bothering her.
                It was a selfish indulgence; the chocolate ice cream which she would shortly be turn into drinking chocolate if she could find a saucepan. Not much in the mood to go banging about his kitchen, Hermione drew her wand and muttered. “Accio saucepan.” At first there was nothing, but when she tried again pointing in the general direction of his cabinets, a soft thump resounded from the one beneath the sink. When she opened the cupboard door a saucepan made its way out from the shelves and into her hand. It did not take her long to empty an entire pint of the ice cream into the pan and begin to liquefy it over the heat of one of the stove’s burners.
                With a large tumbler brimming to the top with her makeshift hot cocoa and two bags of her bite sized brownies, Hermione retreated to her bedroom where she changed into a baggy oversized shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Attacking the brownies as if she had been starving for days, she polished off the first bag in just a handful of minutes. She summoned a book to her lap and began to read, alternating between turning pages, popping brownies into her mouth and sipping from her tumbler of heated chocolate. She’d become so engrossed in the book that she hadn’t noticed he was once more standing in her doorway until he swept into the room, the blur of black in her periphery causing her to look up.
                “You could try knocking,” she muttered when he stopped just at the side of her bed, appraising her with a quick rake of his eyes. “What?” she asked. Severus’ hand shot forward and snatched up what remained of her bag of brownies. “Hey!” she cried, glaring at him.
                “It would seem you’ve had quite enough.” Severus waved his hand and her tumbler of half drank chocolate vanished from sight.
                “Have you lost your mind?” she snipped, attempting to stand. A rolling wave of pain caused her to hiss and she pulled her knees close to her chest, forgoing the effort of getting up.
                “The last thing I need is to be kissing a chocolate ogre with a spotty countenance on the morrow because you’ve over indulged to assuage your feminine pains,” he quipped.
                “Chocolate is a proven—”
                “Miss Granger,” he said holding his eyes steady as he gazed at her. “With as much chocolate as you’ve indulged it’s a wonder you haven’t turned into a bar of the stuff.” If she had a retort prepared she faltered as another wave of cramps rolled through her. Hermione hissed, biting her lower lip to keep from crying out fully. She loathed admitting that her chocolate consumption had not in the least helped her cramps and at present all she wanted was for him to get out of her room. Already she could feel her body tensing and then she could feel the sensation of pinpricks at the back of her eyes. The last thing she needed was to start crying for no apparent reason in front of Severus Snape.
                “Would you get out, please?” she said through clenched jaw. When he made no show of leaving she growled in frustration; a sound caught halfway between a guttural cry and a shrill whimper. “Just go!” Had she been looking at him she might have noticed the way his eyes shifted to take in her figure, but at present she was curled up tightly in a ball, trying to bury her head in her knees while simultaneously burying her knees into her chest. She whimpered and shifted, digging her toes into the underside of her foot as far as they would go as she was struck by another rolling wave of pain.
                “What is the matter, Miss Granger?” his voice was pinched and that seemed to be the final straw.
                “I’m on my bloody period!” she snapped, her voice a sharp cry as she rocked her body back and forth! “Just give me back my chocolate and leave me the hell alone!”
                “I am in no mood for your histrionics, Miss Granger,” he stepped closer to her bed. “Why don’t you just take a potion to calm the pain?”
                “Because I don’t bloody have any!” she cried, her form now visibly shaking.
                The irritated sigh that left his lips did not help her mood. “And did it not occur to you that living in a house with a Potions Master it might be prudent to ask for one?”
                Hermione bit her tongue to keep from sobbing outright. His bristly personality and harsh mannerisms were intolerable in her current state. But her mind rationalized that she simply should have asked him for something. Wishing that she could get a handle on her raging hormones and the rolling pain in her lower abdomen, she shook her head, muttering into her knees; her voice muffled. “I didn’t think that you’d have such a thing here seeing as up until recently you were a male who lived alone.”
                When he gave no reply she lifted her head to see him standing at her bedside with his arms crossed over his chest, eyes appraising her. It made her uneasy to have him looking at her as he was and if it wasn’t for the fact that squirming about was likely to make her cramps worse she would have wriggled under the duvet and hid from sight. Her eyes were wary as he moved around to the other side of her bed, bringing himself much closer to her. Hermione bit her lower lip when he perched himself on the edge of the mattress near her thighs.
                Severus nodded at her midsection. “Take your joggers off,” he said.
                “What?” Had she heard him correctly? Had he just told her to take her pants off? Hermione gazed at him with a look of sheer incredulity flashing in her eyes. When his hands moved to her hips she jerked back, banging her head against the headboard. “Damnit!” she cried, wincing as she touched the back of her head. “What are you doing?” He had waited only a moment after she’d hit her head before he started tugging at the band of her sweatpants. Hermione was struggling, her hips wriggling; which in hindsight only helped him ease her pants down her legs and off her body. She could feel a lump in her throat and for a moment she was tempted to kick at him.
                But when he caught her eye she stilled, as if he had some sort of calming power over her. “As you so aptly put it, I do not have such a thing on hand. Had you made me aware of your pains earlier I could have brewed something,” it was an admonishment, but his tone was not harsh. Hermione tensed again when he pushed her shirt up a bit, exposing all of her stomach. His fingers were delicate as he pulled the front of her knickers down, pressing the material into the creases of her thighs to reveal the top of her hairless mound. She was trembling as she watched him tap the tip of his wand to each of his palms before tucking it away in his sleeve. When Severus pressed his palm down against Hermione’s stomach she hissed. “Too hot?” he asked, eyes searching hers.
                His hand felt like a hot stone the kind used at the day spas during massages. The heat radiated through his palm, melting into her skin and began to ease the cramping she felt in her uterus. “N-no,” she stammered, closing her eyes as he pressed his other palm down against her skin. Both hands were now flat against her lower abdomen, one as hot as the other. Severus began to press slow deliberate circles around her stomach, up beneath her naval and out to the sides, back down and over her mound. He pressed the heels of his palms into the spaces where her ovaries were and she moaned softly, a great release of pressure flooding through her. Whatever peculiar magic he’d enchanted his hands with; she was thankful, too far caught up in the sudden release of her pains to even think about how intimate of a gesture it was.
                Each caress of his heated hands sent a burst of warmth flooding through her lower body; the rolling cramps little more than a dull lapping as he continued to massage her stomach. She let her eyes drift open, focusing on his face. He appeared deep in thought; concentrating on the patterns he made with his hands as he applied more pressure in a tender spot just above her mound. Hermione groaned and her back arched up slightly the feeling quite exquisite. It was the fastest most effective relief she had ever felt; though she had never truly experienced cramps the way she had that morning.
                When his hands finally stilled against her flesh she frowned, but quickly let her lips fall flat not wanting to look ungrateful should he turn his eyes to her. Severus smoothed his fingers over the center of her lower abdomen before pulling his hands back. “Any better?” he asked.
                She nodded her head. “Yes, thank you.” Her voice was a tremulous whisper, and she felt foolish for how she had shouted at him earlier. “How did you—”
                “Decades of hormonal witches, Miss Granger. Naturally I never touched them, that’s what the hospital wing was for, however one does learn a great deal from the practices of others,” he said simply. She hadn’t thought about the fact that he’d been head of Slytherin House and that it was not a house mutually exclusive to men.
                She paused, taking this information in and then posed another question. “Why are you doing this for me?” she asked.
                “Can’t you ever shut off that damnable mind of yours?” he asked though he did not rise from the bed. “Sometimes, Miss Granger, a kindness, if you are so inclined to call it that is simply a kindness. There is no need to read more into it than what is there.” He nodded at her, eyes once more sweeping the length of her figure. “As I told you, having a hormonal witch tearing through the house is not something I look forward to, and I do not need you covered in breakouts come the morning if I’m to be spending tomorrow evening quite close to your face.” He paused for only a second. “I do not take kindly to breakouts, and do not intend to be broken out because you’ve rubbed off on me,” he said.
                “I don’t usually turn spotty from chocolate,” she muttered.
                “With as much chocolate as you were just indulging it’s a miracle that you aren’t one giant spot,” he said with a hint of a sneer on his lips.
                “Must you be so cruel?” she protested.
                Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. He remained perched on the edge of her mattress, though when he’d been leaning in to massage her, he had shifted somewhat, bringing his thigh up to brush hers, and now it rested against her leg. She did not flinch when his hand reached forward and tugged at a stray clump of her frizzy hair that was hanging down on her shoulders. “You do intend to do something with this disaster before tomorrow?”
                Hermione clutched her hair a bit protectively. “What is wrong with my hair?” her voice was harsh, accusing as she glared at him.
                A thin black eyebrow arched up on his forehead. “Aside from the fact that I keep finding it everywhere?” his voice gave her pause and she blushed. Having lived with her frizzy curls all her life she’d grown accustomed to the way it shed, and hadn’t given it a second thought when she’d taken up residence at Spinner’s End. Her thoughts were disturbed and her breath hitched in her throat when he ran his hand through the bushy mass, tugging his fingers back as they tangled in her curls. As he pulled his hand back she could see several kinky strands which had come free between his fingers. “And it gets in the way during testing,” he added.
                Hermione hadn’t given much thought to the fact that her hair might get in the way when they had tested certain products at the workshop. She tried to recollect him fussing over her hair and the only thing that came to mind was his comment about it needing shampoo after she’d been thoroughly dipped in chocolate. It perplexed her that he would bring up his distaste for it now. She made a mental note to be more cautious about her shedding. She wondered if he was worried she would stop up the drain in the shower with it, but didn’t let her mind linger too long on that notion. Sitting in her bed half naked made her feel exposed with him sitting so close. It was a ridiculous thing to feel given that he’d seen and touched every inch of her, but there was something unnerving about her current situation. Perhaps her hormones were making her feel more vulnerable than she normally would have, but his intimate familiarity gave her pause.
                She bit her lower lip, trying to quell her racing mind and ease her anxiety but the moment she did she felt his fingers against the swollen petal, plucking it back from her teeth. “Why do you insist on doing that?” he asked.
                “It’s a habit,” she shrugged. “Does it bother you?”
                Severus pinched her lower lip between his forefinger and thumb, watching it slowly retract as he released it. After several moments of just staring at her he shifted his gaze to the wall. “Are your cramps better?” he asked. If there had been a moment, it had passed. He had touched her, and that too had passed, though his thigh was still there against her leg. She couldn’t make heads or tails of him, but decided in her current hormonal state it was best not to try.
                “For now,” she said. Hermione contemplated thanking him again, though it seemed rather foolish to do so. He wasn’t the type that appeared to take gratitude but she wasn’t the type not to offer it where it was owed. They sat in silence for long moments, Hermione’s mind aching with questions, though her body was no longer clenching in pain as it had been. She’d made up her mind after staring at his profile for a good while to lift her hand and place it gently on his knee. Severus flinched when she did, his knee jerking a bit, but he did not push her hand completely away.
                “You are too bold for your own good,” he said, turning his head to meet her eyes. Severus placed his hand on hers; curling his fingers under her palm to draw her hand up but Hermione closed her hand around him, holding his hand in hers. This earned her a rather stern look but he did not pull away.
                “Why do you flinch when I touch you?” she asked, keeping her fingers wrapped around his hand. “Does it hurt you?”
                Severus was silent. He was staring into her eyes, and she felt as if he could read her mind. Everything she had thought about during the night; his mark, the way she’d touched him, the desperate need to kiss him, all of that seemed to be floating at the forefront of her mind and she wondered if he could actually read it. Hermione tried to think about other things, like Ginny and Harry Potter, or Mrs. Weasley but to no avail. His voice made all of her thoughts jerk to a halt. “Why do you insist on touching me?”
                He had not pulled his hand away from hers, and that seemed ridiculous given the question he’d just asked her. But she for the life of her she couldn’t’ answer it. She realized it sounded beyond stupid to say because I want to, and saying such would probably warrant a good cuff round the ears had he been the violent sort. Hermione was grateful he was not prone to violent outbursts. There was no logical explanation for why she insisted on touching him; aside from her yearning to do so and knowing that it irritated him, neither of which seemed suitable reasons to utter aloud to the wizard. Her mind clicked over and she struggled mentally for a moment. Answer a question with a question, she thought. “Why are you so averse to my touch?”
                Again there was silence between them. It was longer this time, and she noted that he was no longer looking into her eyes but down at the way she held his hand. Heat, though much less, still radiated off his palm and was warming her tiny fingers that remained curled around the sides of his hand. She wanted to lean in toward him, to place her other hand against his cheek and tilt his head back to more thoroughly gaze into his eyes. But she kept those impulses in check and waited, thinking he would speak. When he didn’t she very carefully calculated exactly what to say to him.
                “I’ve noticed something about you,” she whispered.
                The soft scoffing noise caught her ear. “Leave it to the queen of observations,” he muttered.
                Hermione ignored his comment. At least he was no longer being awkwardly silent. Though she realized with what she was about to say that might change. Drawing in a deep breath to compose herself she leaned up from the headboard and brought her face much closer to his. “I was there that night,” she began. “I watched…inside the shrieking shack. And I know for a fact that you were bitten. You almost died,” she said. If he had plans of interrupting she was intent to keep him from following through. She hastened her words. “Which is so peculiar,” she whispered. “Because I know, I know that you have two marks…just…here…” she said and as she did she placed two fingers on the front of his throat, slightly lower and off to the side.
                Severus’ muscles tightened, his pulse now visible in his neck as she held her fingers against his exposed skin. There was a visible rigidity that had crept into his body; leaving him stone stiff as he sat on the edge of her bed with her fingers now touching his throat. “And I know that they are there, and yet I don’t see them. I’ve touched your neck with both my lips and my fingers and I’ve never felt them.”
                “Does your prattling have a point?” he demanded, though she could hear the strain in his voice.
                “You glamour it as well,” she said; a bold statement. “But why?”
                The silence that she had anticipated ensued. It was a foolish question; she could hazard a guess at the answer. A constant reminder of his near death experience; a constant reminder of what all he’d endured, naturally he’d want it hidden from sight. With him no longer teaching and no longer having need for the high collared stiff teaching robes a glamour was the next best choice. But when she’d brought up his Dark Mark he’d revealed something of himself to her, even if it had been miniscule. Hermione had hoped that mentioning this would do the same. Despite the physical attraction to the man that spun her off her head she found herself yearning to know more about the enigmatic ex-professor with whom she found herself coupling on a daily basis.
                He hadn’t moved off her bed and she took it as a good sign. Her fingers were growing warm with the heat of his pulse; her eyes studying the sharp angles of his face as she waited for him to speak. There was the chance that he wouldn’t say anything, perhaps again reiterate how forward he thought she was being, but it wasn’t as if she could take back what she’d asked. She noted how pale he looked in the soft light of her bedroom, wondering if he were always that pale or if she was simply noticing it up close for the first time. She longed to move her hand; to slide her fingers up his jaw and cup his face, but she refrained watching as he lifted his hand and clutched her wrist, pulling it slowly back from his throat.
                “The same reason that you hide this,” he said and drew a slender finger down the length of her left arm. Hermione shivered. “You need no more of a reminder than I of what was suffered and what was lost from that time.” Without another word he’d stood up from her bed and stepped back, crossing her room to the door. With his back to her he added softly, “No more chocolate today, Miss Granger. I’ll have a potion for you in a few hours time.”
                Good to his word in a few short hours he’d slipped into her room once more and delivered her a potion. He didn’t speak only sat it on her dresser and then relegated his presence to his own bedroom. It hadn’t been the most pleasant tasting of liquids but it had continued to keep her cramps to a dull ache. The rain had continued to pour outside her window, not that she’d had any grand plans of venturing out for the day feeling as she did. But it made the atmosphere dreary. Hermione had sought comfort in one of her favorite muggle classics, reading through Sense and Sensibility from cover to cover. It was well into the evening when she finished though the raining sky made it impossible to tell the difference.
                Deciding that a hot shower was in order she gathered her toiletries and shuffled off to the bathroom, relieved to find it empty. Not that she had imagined that he would be occupying the bathroom so late in the evening she was grateful nonetheless that she’d been right. The single shelf with its lone bar of soap reminded her that she needed to ask him about expanding things to accommodate her shower accessories. At present she settled for hanging the mesh kit from the showerhead as she stepped into its steaming heat. The shower at Spinner’s End did have relatively impressive water pressure all things considered. Stinging drops pelted down on her back feeling almost like a massage and it felt good.
                Hermione leaned her hair back into the spray; immediately her curls became heavy against her head, soaked with the water and she let out a long deep sigh. The comments he’d made about her hair were floating idly about in her mind as she plucked up the shampoo from her shower kit. The lather was a thick slightly tropical scent smelling faintly of coconut and citrus as she worked it into her unruly curls. Sudsy bubbles covered her frizzy mane and she kept her eyes closed while washing her hair, all the while thinking about pins and ties to keep it out of his way when they returned to the workshop. She took her time rinsing and detangling her massive mess of hair before setting a great deal of conditioner into it.
                She washed her body, a light clean smelling bath wash comprised of ginger and citrus, using a soft loofah to help her exfoliate. There was something lovely about just feeling the lather slide down her body and wash away under the downpour of the shower. It reminded her of him, which instantly made her body warm and blush. The way he’d touched her in the shower; the first time cleaning her off as if it had been his duty. Though he’d been meticulous and methodical it hadn’t felt cold and clinical. And then when she’d pressed her back into his chest and he’d all but rubbed her to completion with the magic soap; a shiver shot up her spine and she pinched off a moan in the back of her throat. Hermione was not about to play with herself in the shower; even if she hadn’t been menstruating it was far too nerve wracking to think about doing such a thing while in the same house as Severus Snape.
                It dawned on her then that she was holding herself to standards in a fashion similar to her housemate. That while he insisted on restraining himself from pleasure during their work hours, she was timid and shy when they were home together. He’d watched her pleasure herself, albeit with the assistance of a toy, but the thought that he might hear her while she was in the shower was enough to turn her cheeks a raging shade of red. Just as he found himself being more familiar with her under his roof. That was a phenomena she could not explain; though to be fair most of those incidences he’d claimed were for his own benefit. She tried not to let her mind linger for those specific moments that came to mind were only furthering her arousal.
                She did not find it appealing to attempt to be silent while experiencing pleasure. Part of enjoying the pleasures of the body was being able to physically and vocally express them. Keeping quiet did nothing for her, even when she tried, and it always led to her giving in and wailing or crying out. Hermione needed to focus her mind, get it off of the surly wizard in the next room over. Drawing her razor and a can of lather she decided shaving her legs was in order. It was a task that would set her mind to rights and calm her body from its desires.
                Squirting a healthy dab of foam into her palm she stepped back from the spray and hiked her left leg up onto the edge of the tub’s basin, spreading the lather all over her skin. Up and down her calf and shin; slowly back under her knee and then up over it, going so far as to go all the way up her thigh. She didn’t usually shave that high, the hair on her upper thighs being fine and mostly unnoticeable. But wanting the extra distraction she finished lathering up and began slowly shaving her legs. All the while she tried to keep her mind focused on the task but found with each passing swipe of the blade that all she could think about was him. The way he spoke; the way his hands had eased away the pains of her cramps. The way his lips tasted on the few occasions that she had kissed him.
                Her stomach was giddy with the next day’s work in mind; George’s note had said that the products could be used mostly for kissing. And oral sex; something she had found she rather enjoyed with him even if she wasn’t overly sure of herself in regards to being good at it. The idea of her lips curved around the thick head of his erect shaft made her shiver and she nearly nicked herself with the razor. Annoyed that she was once again fantasizing over him, Hermione rinsed the blade and then rinsed her leg. With one smooth leg and one unshaven, she set to the task of lathering up once more.
                The thumping on the bathroom door made her shriek, the razor clattering against the floor of the tub as she dropped it. “Do you intend to monopolize my shower the entire evening?”
                Naturally it was his voice, who else’s could it have been? But that hadn’t stopped her mind from worrying that it was an intruder. When she’d caught her breath and picked up her razor she leaned her head out from around the curtain, doing so to project her voice through the closed bathroom door. “I’m shaving my legs, I won’t be much longer.”
                There was no response and she took that as a good sign. Hermione squirted another liberal handful of the shaving foam into her palm, this time lathering up her right leg. Careful strops slowly up the length of her appendage cleared away the foam leaving strips of smooth skin in the blade’s wake. Despite the fact that her head was ruled by a mass of thick dark frizzy curls, the hair that grew elsewhere on her body was lighter and far less noticeable. She paused, touching her hand to her hairless mound, frowning as she idly stroked the smooth skin there. Surely enough time had passed that something should have started growing back. She missed the slightly coarse pubic curls that kept her womanhood tucked away. Hermione had never understood why women bothered trying to do anything other than trim the curly jungle that grew between their legs; without hers she felt vulnerable.
                Again the thumping on the door surprised her, only this time she managed to hold onto the razor. “Damnit, woman! Some of us in this house would like to use the shower while there is still hot water left!” he growled. He sounded more irritated than before, not as calm as he had been and Hermione sighed. She plunged her face forward into the spray, nearly having forgotten that she still had conditioner setting in her hair.
                “I’m almost finished!” she hollered. “Please be patient!”
                She knew that had she not been menstruating she wouldn’t have shouted with such a tone, but everything seemed to set her on edge. With a heavy sigh she turned around and leaned her head back into the spray, trying to enjoy the sensation of the water beating down into her frizzy locks. Conditioner helped, but only to keep them from getting too tangled. Her fingers slowly worked their way through the bushy mass; kinking and un-kinking sections as she rinsed the conditioner from her hair. The warm inviting scent of coconut drifted to her nostrils and she inhaled deeply. Her fingers were moving more slowly as she rubbed her scalp with her short nails; wishing that it were his hands that were combing through her hair. Her eyes opened and she shook her head; it wouldn’t do to be thinking such thoughts with him pounding away on the bathroom door.
                “Miss Granger, there had better be hot water left. You have been in there half the night!”
                Hermione huffed and rolled her eyes, leaning her face back into the spray. Her hair was rinsed and her body cleaned but she still wanted to brush her teeth and scrub her face. Though she supposed she could brush her teeth outside of the shower, it had just been a habit to do so while in there. “You can either join me while I finish up or wait!” she shouted back, more irritated that he kept interrupting her routine than anything else. “I won’t be much longer!” She hadn’t meant for it to be a teasing comment, simply that he needed to have a dose of patience; Merlin thank his lucky stars the man had never become a doctor.
                The shower curtain was ripped back suddenly and Hermione shrieked, clambering to the back of the shower, staring wide eyed as Severus stepped up over the ledge of the tub basin and into the spray of water. “What are you doing?” she cried, crossing her legs and throwing an arm over her breasts.
                “Your words, Miss Granger. I grew sick of waiting.” He said. His backside was now facing her as he leaned his face into the heated spray, water soaking his lank black locks as he did. Hermione was floored. And flabbergasted, frozen to the spot disbelieving that he had taken her so literally and climbed into the shower naked with her. She couldn’t help herself as her eyes wandered down the smooth plane of his back, following the curve of his spine until it stopped at the split in his cheeks. Her cheeks colored red as she realized she was rather impressed seeing his fleshy but firm arse; a trail of water now trickling down his skin. “Stop staring,” his voice pierced her thoughts, shaking her.
                “How did you—”
                “Your eyes are likely to burn a hole in my skin,” he said and then turned around, reaching for the soap. Hermione quickly turned her head to the side, throwing one hand up over her eyes. She realized it was absurd, having seen him, touched him, sucked him and fucked him six ways to Sunday in the workshop and even a few times right there at Spinner’s End, but she couldn’t help her natural sense of modesty and embarrassment. She scrambled back, trying to frantically exit the shower but caught her foot on the edge of the tub and pitched backward, landing hard on her backside at the bottom of the basin.
                She heard him sigh, her body crumpling around itself as his slender arm extended down to her. Trembling fingers took his hand, though she kept her gaze averted down and off to her left as he helped her to her feet. Drawn upright Hermione found herself in close proximity to the wizard, though they hadn’t been all that far apart to begin with as the shower wasn’t terribly big. Despite the steam from the showerhead and the heat of the water she felt a chill creep its way up her spine. There was something forbidden about being in the shower with him; even if he’d only come in to literally clean off.
                His back was facing her once more, the bar of soap in his hand working its way up the length of one arm and then back down the other. He was fastidious even with his hygienic practice; though Hermione had expected nothing less. She’d previously never given much thought to how Severus Snape washed himself in the shower. When he bent to scrub his legs she was presented with a delicious view of his ass once more and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from expressing just how lovely she thought it looked. The memory of the way he’d responded to her touches in his most intimate place made her shiver and she quickly tried to chase them out of her mind.
                But seeing his backside and thinking about the way he’d nearly lost all control was indeed a tempting thought. In her current condition she didn’t think herself bold enough to simply reach out and touch his ass, though had she been less bloated and feeling more sure of herself she would have. Hermione licked her lips and could feel her pulse racing. She needed to get out of the shower.
                Severus straightened out his frame, replacing the soap on the lone shelf in the wall and turned into the spray. His face looked pinched when he laid eyes on her. Reaching one hand forward he caught the tip of her chin between his finger and thumb, narrowing his eyes at her. “Is there a reason you’re still lingering in my shower, witch?” he asked, clearly unhappy that she had not fled after he’d pulled her up onto her feet.
                He’d put her off at the best of times but in that moment she was completely speechless. She had been trying to beat a hasty retreat from the tub the moment he’d stepped into it, but falling and being helped up had put a stop to that. She stood there frozen, no longer concealed by way of crossed legs, her arm no longer hiding her breasts. Her eyes were locked with his and she could feel her chest heaving up and down; something about him keeping her simultaneously petrified and electrified. “I…” she trailed off, her throat going dry.
                “You…?” he let a thin black eyebrow quirk up on his forehead and then pulled his hand back from her chin. “Go, Miss Granger.”
                “No,” she said, her voice not sounding nearly as bold as she had hoped. “You interrupted my shower and I intend to finish,” she added, wishing for all the world that her words hadn’t quivered as she’d spoke them.
                There was a long pause suspended between them; the only sound filling her ears was the sound of the water as it poured down around them, mostly on him. His lips had puckered and it looked as if he were about to speak. But a rather loud crack of thunder echoed through the house at that exact moment, breaking the silence on his behalf. Hermione had forgotten all about how dreadful the weather had been; that it had been pouring all day. She hadn’t noticed until she’d headed to the shower that the downpour seemed to have intensified into a storm. And somewhere in the recesses of her mind she could hear her mother’s voice chiding her for lingering in the water too long during an electrical storm. But she didn’t have time to properly address whether or not that warning was merely an old wives’ tale because thunder crackled through the house once more, this time causing the lights to blink violently before sparking out.
                Responding on instinct, Hermione screamed, more startled than frightened, as they were plunged into complete darkness. The shower did not stop, though she supposed that logically the plumbing was not connected to the electric. She could feel her entire body tight with nerves; terrified of taking a step for fear of slipping in the darkness. His hands suddenly bracing both of her shoulders made her jump and she bit her bottom lip to keep from screaming out again.
                “One would have presumed growing up as a muggleborn that you would have experienced electrical outages during storms as a child, Miss Granger.” His voice was dangerously close to her ear but she couldn’t tell if it was because he was leaning close to her or simply because the sound of him was augmented by the darkness.
                She was trembling; her naked body not getting enough of the spray to keep from getting chilled. It took a moment to find her voice. “It has been a very long time since I’ve lived in a fully electrical house, Severus.” She said. Hermione closed her eyes, though there was no difference of note in her vision. His hands were still on her shoulders; wet and heavy, but warm. A timid step drew her closer to his body and she could feel more of the water sluicing down over his torso and splashing onto her. “Do you have candles?” she asked.
                “Not in the shower, Miss Granger.”
                Hermione grunted. “I didn’t mean— oh, nevermind,” she muttered, but stood still. Opening her eyes she tried to pluck out any discerning characteristics that might help her see exactly where she stood in relation to him. But the bathroom was pitch black. She could not see her own nose in front of her face. There was no window that led to the outside world in the little bathroom. Even if there had been with the storm raging in full force she doubted any moonlight would have trickled through. Exhaling deeply she lifted her head up and brushed his chin with her crown. “Sorry,” she muttered and jerked her head back. But the jerking motion was a bit too hard and too fast, resulting in her smacking the back of her head against the wall of the shower. She bit her bottom lip to keep from shouting out, but it did not completely stifle the sound.
                She could still hear the water pounding behind him, little sprays of mist splashing her chest. It wasn’t enough. There was nothing quite as uncomfortable as being in a hot shower without actually feeling the benefits of the heated water. Except for maybe being in a hot shower in total darkness with Severus Snape blocking said heated water. Hermione closed her eyes; more out of habit than of actual need to obscure her vision. She could feel him hovering, his body looming over hers simply because he was taller, and quite close to her as well. It was maddening.
                “Do you think you can manage to get out of the tub and back to your bedroom without hurting yourself?” he asked.
                That tone had surfaced again. Rigid but concerned; not the sassy annoyance that had permeated his voice when he’d first entered the shower. This was the tone that had continued to crop up from time to time in the workshop; the tone that made him strangely human to her with his hints of concern but authoritative way of going about it. With another little shift, Hermione turned her body, brushing against his though she did not immediately recoil this time. Her back was now leaning mostly against the side wall of the shower, her head resting there as well. His hip was touching her side, the contact felt delightful and she relished in it for a moment.
                Hermione swallowed, drawing in a shaky breath before speaking. “I really just wanted to finish my shower,” she whispered. It was childish, probably even selfish but nothing in her day thus far had gone well. Topping it off with a power outage in the shower, which had been rudely and frighteningly interrupted by her housemate had done little to improve how she’d felt overall.
                The hand on her cheek caused her to whimper, a sound stuck somewhere halfway between a gasp of surprise and a release of all her pent up hormonal frustrations. He had cupped the side of her face; his hand landing on her skin with crisp accuracy; no fumbling or groping. Hermione could hear his breathing, or perhaps it was just her own augmented against her ear as her heartbeat quickened. She was unaccustomed to his touch and wasn’t sure that she would ever grow used to it as it happened so infrequently. The heat from his hand radiated down through her face and filled her core with a surge of sensations that made her squirm ever so slightly, trying to melt back into the wall.
                Thunder clapped through the house; the roof doing little to dampen the sound of the storm now in full rage. He shifted and the water from the she shower head spilled down over her front. Hermione gasped. Her heart was racing, thumping as loudly as the rain outside. His hand left her cheek and she all but cried out at the loss of his touch; half in relief and half in protest. But her body jolted when that same hand, his left, took hold of her hip, pulling her forward from the side of the shower wall.
                “Are you still in pain?” he asked. His voice a strange mixture of that reserved concern, astute and surgical, and a curiosity that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. It sent a shiver down her spine.
                “A bit,” she managed. Though her cramps now seemed a dull ache compared to the way her backside stung from falling on it. Hermione felt his body quite close to hers, but he had moved somehow, his torso now on the other side of her, facing into the spray of the water. She was surprised at just how hot the water had stayed given that she’d been in the shower for quite a while even before he’d interrupted her. The darkness enveloped them both but between the rain falling and the shower running there was no heightened sense of his movement. When both hands grasped her hips and pulled her forward she yelped but was spun around to face the spray before she could make another sound.
                Hermione could feel his body just behind hers, not touching her but if he leaned forward or she rocked backward their skin would meet. Water pelted down her front and again she closed her eyes. The darkness was the same but with the water now streaming at her she felt the need to keep her lids down. Severus’ hands had remained on her hips but she felt his left hand sliding around her torso. His palm stayed flat against her skin and she bit her lower lip. Her entire body was suddenly strung tight on edge. There was no heat in his palm this time as he began to apply pressure to her. She winced when he pressed in a bit harder with the heel of his hand.
                “Are you wearing a tampon?”
                The question floored her. She half whipped her head around to show her shocked expression to him but then remembered that the room was too dark to see. There was nothing sexual in his tone, but nor had his question been harsh and calculated as so many of his questions had. Despite the way he’d sounded there was something terribly erotic and simultaneously repulsive about it and it upended her senses and logic for a moment.
                Two fingers slid down over her mound and parted her lips. She’d been standing with her legs far enough apart to allow him this easy access. There were no words as she felt his fingers pluck the now wet string from where it clung just against her skin. It was a slow pull, firm and sure, and she felt her muscles contract a bit as he pulled the tampon from her center. Hermione whimpered, her body asunder with feelings of terror and arousal and a number of things she couldn’t identify. The tampon fell to the floor of the shower but she hardly heard it over her own heartbeat resounding heavily in her ears.
                Severus’ other hand, which until that point had been on her hip, now slid back and pushed against the small of her back, fingertips pressing into her spine. “Bend forward,” he said. Without objection she found her body yielding to his command, her upper torso now tilted into the shower stream, her body pitched forward just at her waist. Immediately her core flooded with heat. All rolling pangs of aching pain that had been plaguing her since the morning seemed to dissipate into thin air.
                His hand was massaging her mound; the heel of his palm digging up into her stomach and she moaned. What had moments ago been painful was now terribly pleasurable and she tried very hard not to clench her thighs for fear that he might stop administering whatever delicious torture he was giving her. Their bodies did not touch, save for his hand holding her back down and the hand that continued to shift the pressure at her lower abdomen. Hermione couldn’t explain it. She didn’t dare try. In all her years of being a woman, ever since her first menstrual cycle, she had never suffered the horrendous cramps that she had suffered that day, but his hands were pure blissful magic in releasing her from her torment.
                If he noticed her moans, or minded them, he said nothing. He was quiet behind her and that made it all the more surreal. She could see nothing, she could hear nothing save for the shower and the rain storm; she could only feel his hands upon her. The hand that was pressed down on the small of her back, and the hand that was dangerously close to her opening. His fingers rested just between her legs and a simple movement could bring him to penetrate her. Again Hermione bit her lower lip to keep from crying out as a particularly intense wave of sensations rolled through her core. He was a wizard, a fact taken for granted, but whatever he was doing to her was pure sorcery.
                His hand stilled on the underside of her belly and Hermione was about to protest when she felt his fingers prod at her entrance. Her body went rigid. What was he doing? During their testing it had not often presented itself; products that required him to finger her. Once during the deflowering product or the occasional swipe through her folds here and there checking her after a product had finished. She could feel her chest tightening in a strangely familiar fashion.
                “Ease up,” the sound of his voice floated to her ear. “The idea is to relieve you of the pain, not add to it.”
                But she couldn’t concentrate on his voice, only that her body was desperate to feel those fingers fill her. There was something insane about the way her raging hormones seemed to augment her desire for him. Normally the thought of being mid-cycle and having a man anywhere near her would have been enough to make her sick, at least Ron had always thought so, though he’d never thought twice about begging for blowjobs during her cycle. She sobbed, a strangled cry of intense pleasure as he pushed two fingers up into core.
                Hermione felt his hand slide down her back and replace the hand that was now pressing up inside of her. Again he began to manipulate her lower abdomen with pressure surging through the heel of his palm. Only now there were two fingers inside of her, gently thrusting in and shifting against that forbidden spot that always seemed impossible for Ronald to find whenever he’d fumbled about with what he called foreplay.
                Her hips rocked against his ministrations; the pressure intense but exquisite and it felt as if every rolling wave of pain she’d suffered all through the day was releasing through her body, transformed by his fingers into swirling pleasure. She no longer cared that she was bleeding, she didn’t care about the mess that she couldn’t see in the darkness of the shower; only that he didn’t stop what he was doing as she keened and whimpered, rocking her hips that much harder against him.
                “Easy,” he growled, the hand that had been applying pressure to her stomach now firmly gripping her hip to hold her in place.
                “S-sorry,” she whimpered, barely aware that she had responded to him. The sensations that were shooting through her body defied logic. They were unlike any sort of pleasure she had ever felt before. She had never attempted any sort of sexual encounter, not even of the masturbatory variety, when she was on her period. But her mind was quickly lost again as he began to once more press about on her stomach, all the while keeping her bent over with his fingers curling inside of her.
                The thunder rolled, the shower water thundered, and Hermione moaned. Her body was a tightly wound knot; all her senses erupting at once with the sensations of release and pleasure. Her body shook and this time she sobbed outright, nearly losing her footing had it not been for his arm sweeping under her to hold her in place. His fingers were still inside of her; though they no longer moved, and she jerked in his arms, her body twitching in some sort of post-orgasmic ecstasy. Her breath came in gasps, and though she could still not see anything, she could feel him there, standing just behind her, holding her bent body up on its feet with one sturdy arm.
                It wasn’t until she stood up straight that he eased his fingers from between her legs. She felt him reach over her shoulder with both arms in the spray, most likely washing his hands. She turned, still slightly unsteady on her feet. In turning she’d brought her face flush against his chest. Hermione didn’t think twice about resting her head there. There were no arms embracing her, nor did he lower his head and nuzzle her hair. But Hermione noted in the haze of her mind as her breathing returned to normal that he did not push her away from his chest.
                The warmth of his skin against her cheek felt cozy in comparison to the now tepid water that was still pelting down against her back. That was the first time that she had noticed the water was no longer hot and she couldn’t help but wonder if it had been that way for a while or if it had just changed over. Hermione sighed and lifted her head. She squeaked in surprise when a zapping noise filled the room and the lights suddenly surged back on.
                She was certain there was a full red blush in her cheeks as she stood looking at him, their bodies practically touching. Her lips were pursed to speak but he beat her to it. “So help me if you ask me one bloody question, Miss Granger, I swear I shall drown you here in this shower and make it look like an accident.”
                “But how did you know that— that doing— well, that,” she said, feeling her face tingle further with heat. “Would do what it did?” she paused a moment and then narrowed her gaze at him. “And no you won’t because George will ask questions and you’ll be out one job.”
                For a moment Severus stared at her as if he might actually murder her. She didn’t flinch when he reached over her shoulder and killed the water as it was now running cold. Then he sighed. Hermione tried not to smile at her miniscule victory in that moment. But she did shiver as it was now quite cold in the shower. Another moment longer they stood there, their bodies dripping with the remnants of the shower, before Severus pulled the curtain back completely and stepped out of the tub.
                “Where are you going? You didn’t answer my—”
                The finger pressed firmly against her lip silenced her. “I do not intend to stand here drying in the chill of the shower, Miss Granger,” he said pointedly. “We shall both catch cold,” he added and then turned his back to her, summoning from thin air three towels. She was surprised that he had summoned three as he pinned one around his waist, handing her the other two. And then she realized the third was for her hair. It warmed her heart to think he was being thoughtful but that too must have been written on her face for he rolled his eyes at her. “I don’t wish your wet mop to be leaving a trail of water through the house, you simpering sentimental child,” he said.
                Hermione waited until his back was turned once more before pulling a face with her tongue stuck out in his general direction. She ruffled her hair into the towel and fastened it up around her head before wrapping her body in the other towel. They were fluffy, thick and warm, and she was grateful because she had grown quite cold in just those few moments that they were no longer in the heat of the shower. She watched as he exited the bathroom and padded up the hall to his bedroom.
                “I still want to know!” she called after him. Severus gave a dismissive wave in her general direction before slipping into his bedroom and closing the door.
                Over an hour had passed when Hermione was interrupted in her reading. She’d dressed, cleaned herself a bit and settled into comfy evening clothes and was wrapped in blankets in her bed when he’d appeared in her doorway. How long he’d been standing there she hadn’t the faintest but when a large black shadow had appeared in the periphery above the book she’d been reading she’d looked up and the sight of him had startled her. “Must you?” she said, her brows furrowing in annoyance. She swore she saw him smirk as he entered her bedroom and casually leaned himself against the wall near her bed. “I have a chair for that,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
                “If I wanted to sit, I’d sit on the bed,” he said, his voice slightly cheeky.
                This caused her to flush. It unnerved her and threw her off-balance when he became cheeky and not in his usually sarcastic fashion with her. She couldn’t put her finger on what he was playing at but it made her nervous just the same. “What do you want?” she asked, her voice as even as she could manage, though she knew a blush was once again playing havoc with her cheeks.
                He was quiet for several moments just staring at her. This unnerved her all the more. His gaze, even at the most innocuous of times was unsettling but when he was purposefully focusing it on her all she wanted to do was look away. But she was determined to hold her ground with him. After all, they worked together and they lived together. And they fucked each other. For work, her mind reminded her. Though another little voice in her brain chided in quite quickly, that shower had nothing to do with work.
                “I trust that you know absolutely nothing about a witch’s menses,” he said.
                Her embarrassment be damned he was just being downright insulting in that moment. “Don’t be—”
                “Or else you wouldn’t have been using a tampon, Miss Granger.” He said, holding her gaze for a moment. Her face puzzled and she bit her lower lip. “And there it is, the quandary that was bound to surface, as presented through a look of confusion and bitten lower lip.” He leaned forward quite quickly and pinched her lip between his thumb and finger until she pulled her face back from his hand. “You will learn to stop that habit,” he added before resituating himself casually against the wall.
                Hermione couldn’t wrap her mind around why he was so vehemently against her lip-biting habit, but she had bigger questions now winding through the cogs of her mind. “What do you mean that I don’t know about a witch’s menses?” she asked, sounding a bit foolish. She’d had her period since she her second year at Hogwarts how on earth could he imply that she didn’t know about it?
                Severus sighed. “It is evident that you are aware of a woman’s menses, Miss Granger,” he said rather flatly. “Witches are not usually impacted with the full weight of their magical menses until their late 30’s, though I imagine the intensive sexual stimulation you’ve had as of late has awakened yours early.” Hermione made to interrupt him with questions but he raised his hand to silence her. “I will not play encyclopedia to your insatiable curiosity on the subject, I have a book for that,” he said and from behind his back produced a thick leather bound tome.
                He tossed the book onto the bed, it bounced slightly on the mattress before settling beside her. “Thank you,” she said looking at him with uncertainty. When he didn’t make to move from the wall, she nodded with her eyes to the edge of the bed. She was shocked when after a moment he moved forward and sat, turning his head to look at her. Hermione wanted to surge up from her spot against the headboard and sit beside him, anything to garner more of his touch, but forced herself to restrain that impulse. Instead she picked up the tome. “I can imagine you must have brought it to my attention because it’s dangerous,” she surmised carefully.
                There was a palpable silence that filled the air. It killed her to wait but she feared if she barraged him with questions he would storm out of her room and leave her with the book. Though she was eager to read it cover to cover as apparently there was an entire tome’s worth of knowledge she had to learn about herself awaiting her suddenly, she was not so eager to be rid of his presence. When he finally spoke she listened attentively, never taking his eyes off his lips.
                “A magical build-up of that level can be harmful, yes. It also causes a great deal of excruciating and unnecessary pain,” he added. “Never experienced symptoms like that before, I trust?” he asked. Hermione shook her head. “Indeed.” He said after another moment in silence. They remained quiet on her bed for several more moments. She refused to press her luck with questions or with moving, and he being of little words and enjoying his silence, not seeming to mind that she was finally enjoying not talking.
                When he rose from the bed she did her best not to protest or pout. “It’s a very easy technique, you can teach yourself to do it,” he said as he moved toward the door.
                “Have you—”
                Severus froze her question with a withering look from the doorway.
                “I was only going to ask if you’d sent an owl to George about tomorrow,” she said. It hadn’t at all been what she was going to ask him but it was something that they needed to discuss.
                “I have not.” He said. “That is up to you, but given this evening’s encounter, you should know that it makes no difference to me as to what state you’re in,” he said.
                “Right.” Hermione blushed. She couldn’t help it. The thought of his fingers inside of her and how he’d relieved so much pain and tension by causing her such extreme pleasure, and all while she’d been bleeding; it was too much not to blush. “Erm, I think I’m alright to test whatever it was he’d found, I’ll owl him in the morning.” Severus simply nodded at her before sweeping out of her bedroom, leaving the door open.
~*~
                The next evening found her back in the workshop. Hermione was relieved that her monthly cycle would be giving them a break from the bath product line as they seemed to have a greater potential for danger than anything else they’d tested thus far. Of course, it was only the red snapping bubbles that had really done her in and Severus had been quick on his feet to put her out of harm’s way in that situation. She’d arrived early to the workshop and had been surprised to find Severus already there. For living with the man she knew surprisingly little about his transient habits of when he came and left the house.
                She’d hardly slept a wink the night before. Even if he hadn’t saddled her with the enormously fascinating tome, though it did help take her mind from the insanely sensual encounter in the shower, she would not have found sleep an easy task. The text had been informative, and truly a wonder. How had she managed to overlook such an important part of her education? She had always heard rumors about magical strengthening through sexual actions and tantric magic and things of the like, but she’d dismissed them with the other hocus pocus nonsense of the like, divinations and all that rot. But the tome had references and citations that could not so easily be dismissed or refuted and it made her long to learn every detail she could on the subject.
                “Hello, Hermione,” George greeted her with his customary grin. “You’ll be pleased to know that I’ve made our first contract,” he said and nodded to the roll of parchment he had on the little work desk in front of him. “A shop that specializes in lingerie in Hogsmeade is looking to invest in a few of the products that have already been buzzed about through town.” He was practically bursting at the seams with glee as he told her the news. This did not surprise Hermione in the least. Weasley products of all sorts had been a massive success when he and Fred had sold them on secretive order forms at school, and now that the prankish sexually themed goods would be available at Hogsmeade she was certain he was on his way to a fortune. She didn’t spare the fact that they might be encouraging underage sexual involvements a second thought.
                “Well that sounds brilliant,” she said, returning George’s grin. She was hoping he wouldn’t make an awkward scene about what exactly they would be testing, though she supposed it wasn’t that big of a deal. She was feeling a great deal better after Severus’ pelvic floor massage. The pages of the tome had told her that such a massage often eased the worst of cramps in menstrual witches and could be achieved manually, with a partner or other object. She did not wish to think about doing so manually nor did she believe it would be as good as it had felt with Severus just behind her. She tried to strain her brain to think about how it had affected him but try as she might she could not recall if she had noted an erection on him when they’d been in the shower together.
                “We’ll get right to, then,” George broke her thoughts apart and pointed to a box he’d had on the table. It was the same box that had held the spray can panties. She frowned. “I found a few more bits and bobs in the lingerie collection, though that we’ll probably hold off on. At the bottom of the box I found a whole slew of products just for snogging feel-ups and blowjobs. Looks like Fred was thinking about the erm, junior market,” he said with a bit of a blush.
                Hermione knew it to be true that while not every student at Hogwarts was a raging ball of hormones who wanted to go all the way, there were couples that dated and often those dates included things like snogging and feel-ups. She noted absently that he’d specifically said blowjobs and not oral sex, though she figured that it would be pointless to test products designed to be used on women as the thought of having Severus go down on her in her current state was horrifying. To have him behind her in the shower in total darkness had been one thing, and for another they had been in the shower. But the notion of oral sex during her cycle was more than she could bare.
                  “Right, so what should we start with?” she asked. All the while Severus had remained silent. Though he did not interject he had not taken his eyes off her since she had entered. It made her nervous though it shouldn’t have. What was going on behind those dark impossible to read eyes of his? Her mind couldn’t stop wondering. But before she could over think it, George had pulled what appeared to be a tube of lipstick out of the box. It was a garish red plastic tube and if the color of the plastic outside was the color of the product itself she was certain she wasn’t going to like it. “What is that?” she asked.
                “Tingle stick,” he said, glancing at the label. All too quickly George was back on his stool flipping through the endless ledger of notes. It was as if nothing had changed.
                Hermione took the tube from him and pulled the cap off. It was surprisingly not the color of its plastic casing and for that she was grateful. “Ugh, cherry,” she muttered. “Well…” she trailed off. “What’s this thing meant to do?”
                “A tingle stick to stick it to your lover. A quick tingle that will stick all night long,” George read and then shrugged his shoulders. “Guess it’s meant to be a bit like the tongue tinglers? Except for your lips. Something that lasts a bit longer and perhaps is a bit more subtle. Or maybe is more intense. It would be nice if Fred had left behind some sort of comparison chart.”
                Hermione stood on the side of the table and waited for Severus to come around to stand beside her. She twisted the base of the tube and watched the pale pink stick, which appeared to shimmer in the light, rise out of its plastic. The cherry scent had been overwhelming but was not as potent once it was on her lips. Immediately she felt the tingling, not dissimilar to the tongue tinglers. “It makes my lips vibrate,” she said, her words sounding just a little muddled. Her lips looked glossy and if one looked closely they could be seen vibrating against each other while at rest.
                “Alright, give him a good snog and then Severus you can take your trousers down and she can have a go.” Hermione wasn’t sure which was worse. Being told to give Severus Snape a good snog or to have a go once he’d dropped his trousers. While both would have been appealing acts under normal circumstances there was nothing normal about the line of work they’d both found themselves in. Though if it bothered Severus at all she would never have known it from the way he stepped toward her. Even her most unsexy of states, which she felt presently, he had a way of switching on some deep-seeded arousal inside of her. That was something she was going to have to work on repressing, she had decided.
                Hermione locked eyes with Severus for a moment and did not speak before leaning up toward him. His hand cupped her cheek and she noted that nearly every time they had kissed he had made this gesture and she wondered if it was a force of habit or if there was some other significance behind it. This is what he means, you twit, when he chastises you for over thinking things. Her mind was chiding her as their lips met. It was strange; the buzzing and vibrating all through her lips now pressed against his. She imagined that if one had ever practiced a blowjob on a vibrator that it might feel a little like her lips did at the moment.
                “So far so good,” she heard George say. She’d held onto conscious thought as best she could as she felt his tongue slip into her mouth. There hadn’t really been any reason to deepen the kiss, though she wasn’t complaining. Though had it been him to initiate it? Hermione couldn’t recall. Perhaps with all the vibrations happening on her lips she’d pressed her tongue against his lips and he’d obliged her. Either way that warm and inviting taste that was him invaded her mouth and she sighed with contentment into the kiss. Out of her own forced habits, she wrapped an arm around him and pulled her body closer to his. This broke their kiss. Hermione felt a wave of panic sweep up through her, but she noted that he did not push her back, rather remained in her arm-armed grasp, eyes searching hers. Was he staring at her with curiosity?
                “Alright then?” George asked.
                “Fine,” she buzzed.
                Severus nodded. “Nothing unpleasant.” He easily slipped from Hermione’s half embrace and began to undo the button and zip of his trousers. “Though it’s rather boring after just a moment or so, novel perhaps but at only one speed of vibration a long snog might become numb.” George scribbled frantically in the ledger while Hermione watched Severus make a ceremony out of sliding his trousers down his hips. He carefully stepped out of them, folded them neatly and sat them on the marble work table. He slid his boxer shorts down his leg as well and folded them atop his trousers, standing naked from the waist down, awaiting her move.
                “Oh! I— here—” George reached down and grabbed a large puffy pink pillow from seemingly nowhere. He chucked it over to the work table. It nearly hit Hermione upside the head and it would have had Severus’ arm not shot out and snatched it. “For your knees, Hermione,” he said.
                It caused her to flush, but she took the pillow anyhow and set it on the ground at Severus’ feet. Kneeling down, Hermione braced one hand on the side of thigh and gently leaned her buzzing lips forward. She noted with a frown that already the buzzing was starting to fade. She wondered if the lipstick was meant to be reapplied. Pressing her lips together for a moment she also noted that they felt sticky, as if she’d laid syrup on them. Had they felt sticky before? She couldn’t recall. “George my lips feel a little sticky,” she said, her speech much more articulate now that the buzzing was a dull hum.
                “Huh,” he said scratching his head. He flipped the page over, scanning it. “No notes about sticky lips,” he said and then gave a little shrug. “You sound better.”
                “The buzzing has faded significantly,” she said. “Should I reapply it?”
                “Nah, see how long it holds out before it’s gone altogether,” he said.
                Hermione nodded and then leaned her lips forward and pressed a tentative kiss against the base of Severus’ flaccid cock. Much like she, he was still hairless from where the depilatory cream had been used on his nether region. She wondered if their hair would ever grow back. The slight vibration caused his cock the slightest twitch but otherwise he remained limp. She closed her eyes, nervous but aroused, and she brought one hand in front of her to hold his length. Taking the tip between her buzzing lips she gently swirled her tongue around his head. She could feel the vibrations all but die out.
                Moving her lips down his shaft her chest seized with panic as she felt them stick slightly to his flesh. Hermione tugged her head backward but to no avail. Her eyes grew wide and she made a strangled sound in the back of her throat. She had Severus’ cock in her mouth, though thankfully he wasn’t aroused, and could not move her lips from around him. The tingle stick had stuck her lips to his shaft. Frantic eyes gazed upward as she grabbed both of his hips and tried to pull back away from him.
                Severus put a heavy hand on her head, hissing slightly through clenched teeth. “Weasley your bloody product has backfired,” he growled.
                George, who had been scribbling away in the ledger, looked up and suddenly looked ashen. His face fell further when he saw the little bits of water beginning to well up in Hermione’s left eye, the only eye he could see from her current position. “Ah bullocks,” he muttered and quick-stepped over to where Severus stood. “Hermione, can you move your lips at all?” he asked, gently turning her head this way and that.
                She moaned; an unintelligible sound with her mouth full of his cock, her lips quite firmly stuck as if the gloss had somehow hardened into glue. Shaking her head she tried once more to pull herself free, resulting only in another growl from Severus and further panic sweeping through her chest.
                “I’ll take the stick over there and run a quick analysis to see what sort of compounds and magic he’s used,” said George. He grabbed up the stick and dashed off to the far side of the laboratory.
                “Stay calm.” Severus’ voice was low but firm. He tugged slightly on her hair to force her eyes up to his. “Deep breaths, don’t move around,” he instructed her. Hermione could already feel her throat closing off. But it couldn’t be closing off, he wasn’t hard. He was soft in her mouth. Her tongue slid, feeling heavy with the weight of him and again his hissed. “Try not to do that…I can restrain myself but so long from physical stimulation and it’s difficult enough with the heat of your mouth.” He was being honest, his voice pinched as he spoke.
                She couldn’t imagine the horrors if he suddenly grew erect in her mouth with her lips stuck to his flesh as they were. What if the force of his erection ripped the bond of the trick adhesive, tearing her lips and his cock? She shuddered at the thought. She could feel his cock twitching slightly and again she whimpered, trying to keep her tongue as still as she could manage. Tears were now streaking down her face as further panic set in. Ripping her lips and his flesh were no longer the biggest fear that possessed her mind; what if he became erect and she asphyxiated?
                Firm hands cupped either side of her face, tilting it upward slightly. “Stop that.” He said. His voice was not harsh, but commanding, and in a strange way comforting. The rough pads of his thumbs swiped under her eyes to wipe away her tears. “This is part of the job,” he said. “Uncomfortable, and dangerous but nothing that needs panicking over,” his tone was low, almost a whisper that she was certain George could not hear. That was something she had always admired about Severus; no matter what the situation was he always seemed to maintain his composure. He was calm. She needed to be more like him.
                Drawing in a trembling breath through her nostrils the nodded her head. He did not take his hands away from the side of her face as George returned. “It’s simple enough, a bit of water and Mrs. Scour’s should do,” he said and then made to dash off to his apartment. “Sorry,” he added before vanishing out of the workshop. It felt like an eternity before George returned with a tall tumbler of water mixed with Mrs. Scours. “Easy now,” he said standing on the side of them, one hand braced on Hermione’s shoulder, the other guiding the tumbler to her lips.
                The water was hot, not scalding, but unpleasant. She winced as the mixture made contact with her skin. It tingled and stung a bit but already she could feel her lips coming loose. She waited just a minute until she was certain she could move both of her lips fully. Hermione pulled back from him, panting and sniffling.
                “Everyone alright?” George asked. “You’re going to want to go rinse off, both of you. Mrs. Scour’s can be pretty caustic.”
                Hermione could already feel her lips beginning to sting a bit and she frowned, still feeling shook up from the experience. “Should we go upstairs?” George nodded at her and without waiting for Severus she headed out of the workshop. The bathroom in his flat was still elaborately laid out with all of the bathroom waterworks that they would no doubt resume testing just as soon as her cycle finished. While she moved to the far side of the bathroom and began to run the water in the sink she heard one of the showers start behind her. Looking over her shoulder through the mirror she saw Severus in the shower rinsing off. Where his shirt had been discarded to she hadn’t a clue, but the image of his naked backside nearly distracted her from the stinging in her lips.
                Potions had taught her that a mild touch of soap with water would ease the contact sting. She began to rinse her face and gazed into the mirror. Hermione looked alarmed when she noted that her eyes were slightly red but then she remembered that she had been crying. Cupping her hands she filled them with water and then splashed her face, trying to put the embarrassing incident behind her. She chalked up her overreaction to being hormonal. Though she wasn’t the calmest of witches during a crisis, the excessive tears and worry was most likely because she’d been on her period and her body was out of whack. If what she’d read about magic shifting in menstrual blood was accurate she’d only been overloading her body with tampons, which had resulted in further emotional instability and might even explain her insatiable desire toward Severus.
                “Are you alright?” his voice was low and immediately behind her. It had startled her but she only jumped slightly as she looked up into the mirror to catch his eye. He was donned in his workshop robe but looked no worse for the wear. She nodded her head, not trusting her own voice to speak. “Turn around, let me see,” he said. Without thinking she obeyed. Did he not trust her to safely cleanse away the solution that had separated her lips from his cock? Or did he simply wish to look her over? She sighed as he cupped her cheeks, turning her head slightly to the left and then to the right. He pressed his finger against her lips and parted them gently, swiping his fingertip around the perimeter of her lips. Severus pinched her lower lip and she pulled her head back a bit. “You should still be able to bite it,” he said, his lips curling upward slightly.
                Hermione let her head fall forward against his chest. When he immediately lifted it she felt a tightening in her own chest. Severus’ arms were strong as he turned her around though she offered little resistance as she found herself facing the mirror once more. His body was closer to her than before, pressing against her backside but only just slightly. Both hands now rested atop her shoulders. He was a good two heads taller than her and she could clearly see both of their faces in the mirror. She studied his eyes, her body trembling just slightly though why she couldn’t fathom.
                “You need to keep your composure,” he said making eye contact with her through the mirror.
                “I think it’s the hormones,” she said. She half believed her words.
                “I know.” Severus ran his hands up the side of her neck and began to gather up her hair. Hermione’s eyes fell closed and she tried very hard not to lean back into his body. He was touching her, caressing her in a sense and it made the sensations from the previous night’s shower flash behind her eyes. She inhaled sharply when she felt him twist her hair up, exposing her neck, and then she winced a bit, opening her eyes when he jabbed her in the head with what felt like the tip of a feather quill.
                Her eyes met his in the mirror and although his hands were no longer touching her, his body had stayed quite close. He’d wrapped her hair and pinned it up the way she had the night he’d instructed her on how to give a blowjob. Hermione shook her head slightly. “I don’t understand you.”
                Severus scoffed. “You ought to stop trying,” he said. He stepped back from her and the moment was gone. If there had been a moment at all. Perhaps he was right, she was trying to create something from nothing. After all what had actually happened in that moment at the sink? He’d come over to check and see if she’d survived the incident in the workshop. Nothing more. Except he’d bothered to pin her hair up, which could have been more of a favor to himself. He hadn’t let her lay her head upon his chest, but when he’d turned her around he’d let their bodies touch in a more full and intimate fashion. It made her mind dizzy just trying to process it all.
                “Everyone ok?” George called as he popped up into the bathroom. “No worse for the wear, I hope.” He frowned a bit. “I’m afraid that product worked exactly as designed. I found another few notes about it tucked away between the binding of the ledger,” he said with a bit of a flush entering his cheeks as he spoke. “Looks like Fred has some prankster products peppered throughout as well,” he said feeling just the slightest bit uneasy about having made the discovery. “Which I suppose is fine, we’ll just have to be a bit more cautious going forward.” With that sentiment in the air it was as if the awkwardness had vanished and George was once again grinning. “If you’re both alright, let’s get going then, shall we?”
                Back in the workshop Hermione seated herself on a stool near the marble table while George and Severus investigated the contents of the box. She had noted that he’d found five more spray cans and was eyeing them over as they discussed what would be practical to test given Hermione’s current condition. The can she currently held in her hand was a bright sea foam green color and was dotted with what looked like little seashells. There was another can similar to the black fur can only this one was covered in hideous pink feathers and she shuddered to think what might be inside of it.
                “Hermione,” George’s voice drew her attention.
                He pulled from the box a little plastic compact. She stared at it quizzically for a moment before picking it up and turning it over in her hand. It was ordinary, looked like a small hand mirror or perhaps a makeup compact, circular in shape and rather plain. When she popped the latch and opened it up the contents baffled her. Five little pearls rested inside the compact, each in their own little nestled holder. “What on earth are these?” she asked.
                George had once again taken up the ledger. “Jizz Juicers.”
                “Oh George, that’s awful. Fred really had terrible sense for naming things.”
                Severus grunted in agreement.
                “Each one has a specific flavor, to be ingested by the male to flavor his cum for his lover’s delight,” George was looking over the notes in the ledger. “Wait a minute, how many are there in that compact?”
                “Five.”
                “Bloody hell,” said George with a bit of a snort. “This list goes on forever. Everything from chocolate to pomegranate to vanilla and everything in-between.”
                “How are we to know which ones are contained inside that compact?” It was Severus who asked the question. He was now standing beside George casting his eyes down the long list of flavors that could potentially be contained within the pearl-like orbs. He nodded. “At least nothing on this list looks questionable or objectionable.”
                She hadn’t even thought about the fact that the flavors might be tainted with one of Fred’s more prankish notions. Despite having just been the victim of a novelty prank the thought was so quickly from her mind that she hadn’t considered that one of those little pearls might turn a man’s seed to taste like sour milk or rotten eggs. She quickly thanked Merlin that the list looked safe even though she had not yet seen it herself.
                “Merlin, it just goes on and on, nearly a full page…double columns and everything! Look,” George pointed at the ledger. “Salted caramel, ripe pear, bubblegum, piña colada…it just keeps going.”
                With the exception of the bubblegum, so far everything he had named sounded pleasant and even the bubblegum didn’t sound unbearable. “I suppose the only way to find out is to test it?” she asked. “I wonder if they’re all the same in one pack. George, are there more packs or just this compact?”
                “Perhaps the flavor list is for future possibilities and the compact is a prototype. Are we certain that they have even been flavored to work?” Severus stood with his arms crossed over his chest, reading the notes that were scribbled all up and down the margins of the ledger. “Fred had atrocious handwriting,” he muttered, leaning closer to the ledger to get a better look.
                After what felt like an eternity they had come to the conclusion that the compact had at the very least one flavor in it, but more likely a full five different flavors. George made a plan to mark them somehow if they turned out to be a favorable product so that there wouldn’t be confusion with marketing. The process seemed simple enough. Severus would ingest a pearl, wait a few moments and then Hermione would begin to pleasure him orally until he came and she would determine what the flavor was and how effective it was.
                Plucking a pearl at random, Severus swallowed it and then waited. Time seemed to crawl by as they waited for the pearl to take effect. After nearly ten minutes George decided it was safe and gave them the nod to go ahead. Hermione was nervous. She’d blown him before but it had been in a much more intimate setting; a practice of sorts. And she had felt comfortable in her own element. Much like when they’d tested the D2 this would be very different from her bedroom at Spinner’s End. He would not give her a massage to ease her tension and she did not have the added benefit of her comfortable bed.
                “Will you transfigure the stool a bit?” she asked Severus, nodding at it. “Maybe a little lower and wider,” she suggested. It wouldn’t be exactly like her bed, but it was a start. He silently complied and with a simple wave of his wrist he’d shifted the work stool into a low-rise wide planked bench. She was astonished at how simple he made wandless and wordless magic look; especially the transfiguration that was practically flawless.
                Hermione settled onto her knees and tried to relax. Everything he had told her was playing in the back of her mind. Breathing through her nose, making sure to keep her lips pulled over her tongue, using what she knew about him to help bring about a quick release. That was going to be the most difficult part. When he’d been seated on her bed not only had she been comfortable enough in her surroundings to be so bold as to penetrate him with her finger but the positioning in which he’d sat had allowed for it. She wasn’t sure that the makeshift bench would give her quite the same opportunity.
                Severus sat down on the bench, letting his robe hang open on either side of his body. She drew in a breath and chanted in her mind to be confident. Lowering her head forward slightly she placed both hands atop his thighs as she brought her lips to the tip of his cock. Sliding him into her mouth she began to swirl her tongue around his length, immediately feeling the response from him she had that night in the bedroom. He wasn’t trying to restrain himself, and for that she was grateful. It only took moments for his length to stiffen under her careful actions. She had forgotten the width of his shaft fully erect.
                “Anything to be done to move it along?” George asked a bit sheepishly.
                Hermione was about to release his cock from between her lips and snap at him but the firm weight of Severus’ hand on her head kept her in place, bobbing gently with his cock still in her mouth. “She’s coming along fine, Mr. Weasley,” Severus said. His voice was low, a hint of that heady husky sound penetrating his words when he spoke. This encouraged her and she slid one hand between his legs, cupping his balls as he had shown her that night. She was rewarded with a soft hiss that was followed by a groan when she squeezed them together in her hand, all the while sliding her mouth back and forth on his shaft.
                There was a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach one that she all too quickly recognized as pleasure. Surely just giving the man a blowjob wasn’t turning her on? But it was and she felt heat filling her core as she continued to tighten the seal of her lips around the base of his shaft, taking him further in her mouth than she had during her lesson. This sensation was new; the fullness of him invading her mouth and pushing at the back of her throat. The sound that left his lips was a strangled cry, though if it had been painful she was sure that he would have yanked her head back. Perhaps there would be another way to make him easily achieve climax without having to figure out how to reach his arse.
                Hermione felt his fingers threaded into her hair. He wasn’t pulling her head to him but his grip was firm. His hand moved with her head as she bobbed and licked and sucked his cock. She could feel his shaft pulsing in her mouth and knew that was a good sign. The hand that had been idly resting on his thigh began to stroke the soft hairs there, raking her nails ever so slightly across his skin. Severus groaned as she scratched him, her other hand rolling and squeezing his balls.
                She heard him gasp as she felt his balls tighten. Hermione pulled back just slightly so that the head of his cock was no longer pressing at the back of her throat and not a moment too soon. The little squeeze on his tightened sac seemed to do the trick and he came hard, shuddering. Spurts of hot release filled her mouth, splashing her tongue and the back of her throat. She had picked a poor moment to inhale and began to choke slightly, doing her best not to let her choking spell dislodge him from her mouth.
                George jumped to his feet in alarm, and Severus pushed her back as she sputtered. “Fuck, sorry Hermione, was it bad?” George was handing her a handkerchief and clapping her on the back.
                She waved him away, still coughing a bit. Hermione managed to shake her head and after a moment she had settled down. “Sorry,” she said, feeling her face flush. “I just swallowed wrong…er breathed while— oh sod, nevermind, it wasn’t him or the flavor. That was my fault.” She confessed feeling foolish.
                “Are you alright?” it was Severus’ rich voice, which still sounded a bit hoarse.
                She nodded her head. “I’m fine, sorry. I didn’t hurt—”
                “I am fine, Miss Granger,” he said pulling his robe around him. Hermione frowned, hoping that he wasn’t saying that merely for the sake of saying so. She didn’t think she’d hurt him in her choking spasm but she couldn’t be sure.
                “Could you pick out a flavor?”
                “What?” she asked George and then nodded her head. “Oh, yes. Yes it was distinct. Chocolate Fudge most definitely.” As she spoke she swiped her tongue around her lips, searching for any remnants of his flavored cum that might have been left lingering. Hermione took a moment getting to her feet and was surprised when Severus curled his finger at her. George was already frantically scribbling in the ledger over the note of the flavor being Chocolate Fudge.
                “Was it a real Chocolate Fudge or sort of an artificial? You know how when you try to capture the flavor or essence of something it can— like bananas? Real bananas verses that Glam-Banger Banana Lip Balm?”
                Hermione was standing in front of Severus her eyes looking into his when George’s question threw her asunder. It hadn’t been so much the question about whether the flavor was artificial but his apparent intimate knowledge of Glam-Banger’s Lip Balms that flabbergasted her. Turning her head with a quizzical look at George she pursed her lips. “Wasn’t that Ginny’s signature Lip Balm growing up?”
                George’s face turned about as scarlet as his hair. “Erm…” he trailed off and then groaned with a roll of his eyes. “I wanted to know what all the fuss was about. Plus it was banana shaped…good for practicing—”
                “Okay!” Hermione shouted, giggling a bit. “I get the picture.” An then she scrunched up her face. “Though I rather wish I didn’t. But no, George, it tasted like actual Chocolate Fudge, not plastic or artificial.” She turned her face back to Severus. With him still seated on the makeshift bench she was taller than him but he quickly righted that situation by standing. It brought their bodies close together and she trembled as he cupped her cheek. “What are you—”
                Her words were halted as he brushed his lips against hers. Hermione all but melted as he kissed her. It was more than chaste, his tongue in hers, but not aggressive or lust driven. After a moment he broke their kiss and then walked over to George. “The flavor lingers,” he said. “Which is a marketability factor. I have yet to meet a wizard, regardless of his sexual orientation, that likes the flavor of his own after taste on his partner’s lips.”
                Hermione stood there for a moment watching the two of them discussing marketability factors before she cleared her throat to interrupt the discussion. “I imagine that most couples won’t be using these in rapid-fire succession…even with the Lustipops getting a man to climax again…” she trailed off hoping her point was clear.
                “Well of course not,” George chuckled. “That, however, doesn’t mean we can’t work on other things before we come back to the other four. We do have all night,” he said and looked at Severus. If the prospect of being used like a sperm factory bothered him or frightened him you would never know it from the blank expression on his face. “Though you probably ought to go give your mouth a rinse just so this next product doesn’t have a residual chocolate fudge taste.” He paused a moment, his head tilted to the side. “Though I suppose some might like chocolate fudge with their marshmallow.”
                “Marshmallow?” she asked incredulously.
                “Fluffer Nutters,” George said and pointed to the box on the table. “There’s a canister in there, it’s labeled.” Hermione nodded and pulled the canister from the box. It was shaped like an ordinary biscuit tin, metal with winding white stripes a bit like a barber pole that wrapped around it. The lid did in fact read “Fluffer Nutters” and she quirked her lips to the side, scanning the container for any indication as to what exactly awaited her inside. “Give me that, go give your mouth a rinse, there’s a sink in the far corner,” he pointed to the other end of the workshop. “And we’ll give these a go.”
                Fluffer Nutters, as it turned out, were similar to the Hand-Control Panties that had been discovered in the box a few sessions ago. Though these were far more discretely designed and actually intended to have a good prank on the person who you would use them on. While the purple glove of the HC Panties would look awkward and out of place, no one would suspect an innocent snack cake out in public. The canister contained an applicator vial filled with a misty white liquid and a pair of joined white fluffy balls, for lack of better description. They reminded her very much of a softer and strangely white version of a rock cake, only without all the little pits and craters that rock cakes were so called for.
                Unlike the panties, Fluffer Nutters were designed to be a single use item. The serum was applied to the man’s balls, which through the mechanism of some sort of charm, transferred the sensations of whatever happened to the conjoined fluffy cake balls to his testicles. This made Hermione giddy with a guilty pleasure. She couldn’t say that she was overly pleased with the notion that the balls were flavored like marshmallow, she had not been overly fond of marshmallow as a child. She had not been overly fond of sweets, save for chocolate, in her adolescence but figured it had mostly to do with her restricted allowance of them on a count of the fact that both of her parents had been dentists.
                Severus stood leaning against the table, the sides of his robe once again open. Hermione had taken the liberty of applying the serum liberally over his balls with her fingers before moving the stool, which was once again a stool, around to the opposite side of the table. She took a seat on it with his back now facing her. It was going to be fun indeed.
                “Alright, Hermione, whenever you’re ready,” George sit, sitting once more at his ledger, quill at the ready. “And Severus, if you get to the point of release…pop another one of those pearls and see if we can’t get a two-fer out of this, yeah? Hermione there’s a cup of water there for a quick rinse so you don’t get marshmallow carryover.” Severus nodded his head at George’s request and then sat waiting. She too nodded her head and pondered for a moment how best to start.
                Hermione held the Fluffer Nutter balls in her hands. Bringing them close to her mouth she paused a moment before making a very timid stroke of her tongue just in the center where they were joined. She noted that his shoulders tensed visibly but he made no indication otherwise that the tongue between his balls had affected him. Her lips puckered. “This is cloyingly sweet,” she said, realizing as she said it that she sounded just as he had. She tried not to giggle. But the product was saccharine, less like marshmallow and more like confectioner’s sugar.
                She tried not to focus on how sickeningly sweet the taste of it was but more on the reactions that she might elicit from Severus by toying with him. Pressing her tongue flat against the center joint of the Fluffer Nutters she deliberately rolled it so that as much of her tongue as possible could stroke over its surface. A shudder and a gasp of breath was her reward for such a brazen move and immediately she felt the heady surge of power. Teasing him was indeed fun and she’d made it a semi-personal on-again-off-again mission to see if she could make him crack in the workshop. After all he’d said it himself that he was just a man and prone to faltering when stimulation became too much. She intended to over stimulate him until he erupted like a volcano.
                Hermione carefully gave the balls a squeeze, watching through hooded lids as he adjusted the way he was standing. She hoped it was because he was beginning to grow erect. She began to lick the Fluffer Nutters with short quick strokes of her tongue, almost like a child trying to catch all the melting bits of an ice cream cone on a summer’s day. Then she grew bold. Placing her open mouth of the top of the left ball she began to kiss the confectioner’s object in her hand, moving her lips and suckling at the sweet as she did. Her right hand had taken the squeezing the other ball while her mouth worked. This seemed to be a satisfying combination as she could now hear Severus’ labored breathing.
                Pushing her luck she widened her lips and drew one ball completely into her mouth. She was careful as she suckled the ball, swirling her tongue around it while her other hand continued to stroke and caress the other one. Severus hissed and then he groaned when her tongue pressed down, her mouth squeezing a bit on the Fluffer Nutter. The groan was unlike anything she’d heard up to that point; carnal and unrestrained, even when they’d both been overcome she’d never heard him release in that vocal fashion before. She only wished that there wasn’t a table between them so that she could slide her finger down his spine and rest it between his cheeks with the delicious threat of penetrating him.
                She was slow, her motion deliberate as she pulled the ball from her mouth. She paused only a moment and then blew a steady breath across the confection, watching every muscle in his body tighten as he moaned. Hermione couldn’t help herself as she snickered quietly. To keep herself from bursting into giggles at just how it was affecting him, she repeated her ministrations with the other side of the conjoined balls; suckling it into her mouth, whirling her tongue over and over its surface. And then she was struck with a daring notion.
                Her hands cupped the confectionary balls gently as she brought them to her lips. Feathering kisses along the tops of their surface she drew back her lips and squeezed them slightly until she’d engulfed both balls into the cavern of her mouth at once.
                “Merlin,” Severus hissed. She noticed for the first time that his hand was wrenched behind him, gripping the edge of the marble testing table. His knuckles were white and she could see his robe starting to slide from his shoulders. Hermione was delicate as she rolled her tongue over the balls in her mouth, careful not to let them brush against her teeth. Whirling her tongue over and over was resulting in him moaning a bit more forcefully than before and when she slowly pulled them from her mouth, he was grunting, his other hand fumbling on the table for the compact of flavor pearls.
                Hermione continued to lick at the Fluffer Nutters until she heard his breath catch harshly, and she knew he was but a moment away from reaching a climax. With her hand gingerly rolling what was left of the quickly dissolving confection, she rinsed her mouth and moved with haste around to the front of the table. His face was seized with ecstasy and she was sore that she had remained behind him not witnessing the glorious look of rapture that had torn itself across his features.
                She dropped to her knees, the pillow just beneath her and placed one bracing hand on his hips. Her lips met the tip of his cock and she sucked him in. He cried out; a pure, unadulterated guttural sound that sent her reeling as he came in her mouth. It was not as much as it had been the first time, or perhaps she was just positioned better and not inhaling, but Hermione did not choke as his seed spurted forth between her lips, over her tongue, and down her throat. He was panting, tiny beads of sweat having formed on his forehead in his throes of passion. His cock twitched as his orgasm abated and immediately she pulled back, remembering what he had said about how he became sensitive like she did.
                “Are you alright?” she asked. It felt strange for her to be the one asking. He waved at her dismissively as he caught his breath. She rolled her eyes and sighed. She turned to George, who was writing like a madman in the ledger. Was he trying to give a textual description of every blessed thing that had happened? She decided it was better if she didn’t know. “That one had a very distinctive taste of banana.”
                “Banana?” George paused mid quill-stroke and looked up with perplexed eyes. “Bana— oh! You mean the Jizz Juicer. Right. Banana! Wait, good banana, real banana? Or Lip Balm Glam-Banger Banana?”
                Hermione couldn’t help herself as she giggled. The idea of George stealing Ginny’s lip balm as he discovered his sexuality was too precious. “Banana banana, George. Like actual banana.”
                “I don’t even remember seeing Banana on that list…” he flipped a page back in the ledger and traced his finger down the columns of flavors. “Oh nevermind, it’s here. So we’ve got Choc Fudge and Banana. Not terrible combinations.” He shrugged and scribbled something before flipping back to the page he’d used for the Fluffer Nutters. “Severus, how was it?”
                Severus, who moments ago had been a quivering mass of man in the throes of ecstasy was upright, rigid, and had his robe drawn closed once more. “Suffice it to say, Mr. Weasley, it mimics the act with remarkable accuracy.” His tone was level, all hints of the pleasure he’d received from the toy vanished from his voice. “It will be easily marketable, and as a one-time use you stand to make a fortune with this product alone.”
                “Brilliant,” he said and then looked back at Hermione. “You said it was too sweet?”
                “Yes, well, not I don’t know…I guess so?” she shrugged her shoulders. “I might be biased, I did grow up with dentists for parents so I didn’t really have much of a sweet tooth growing up. I’ve also never been partial to confectioner’s sugar and that’s what it tasted like, confectioner’s sugar, which I suppose is alright since isn’t that what marshmallow is made of? Or perhaps I’m wrong, I’ve never quite closely examined how one does make marshmallow.”
                George stared at her. “Right.” He said and then made a small note in the ledger. He flipped a few more pages. “You think you can get one more in before we have a dinner break or are you spent?” he asked Severus.
                Hermione was all ears waiting to hear his response. How any man could have the stamina to go a third consecutive time in such a narrow window was beyond her fathomable mind. Even when they’d retested the remainder of the House Condoms there had been pauses while Severus discussed brewing things with George and all three of them discussed marketability. She’d even managed to rearrange some of the clutter up in George’s flat between fuck-sessions. So she was shocked when he gave a small nod. Wizards had stamina but he was nineteen years her senior. Then something she read in the tome he’d given her struck her mind; there was still so much she had to learn about sex and magic. It was possible that he was just beginning to enter his sexual peak as most wizards did not start until their mid or late 40’s.
                Pushing that thought aside she found herself peering into the box and frowned. “George…” she reached in and pulled out a single delicate length of red silk. “Is this?” she let it slip over her fingers.
                “Holy hell that’s where it was!” he cried with excitement. The missing red scarf from the sexy silks was now draped over her hand. “How did you get in here?” he asked, plucking the thing from her hand as if it were a prized pet. “We’ll have to— do you remember what this one was meant to do?” he asked and started eagerly thumbing through the pages of the ledger.
                Hermione shook her head trying to think back to the picture of the buxom blonde that had winked at her from the bottom of a page near the back of the book. “I think it was wrapped around her ankles or her feet.”
                “Great memory,” he said as he gazed at the lewd sketch of the woman who was still winking up at them from the bottom of the page. “Activated much like the others, I guess, and I don’t see anything on here about it needing release,” he shrugged his shoulders. “Though I’ve dismantled the four-poster.” He paused a moment. “My bed up in the flat is a four-poster,” he suggested a bit nervously.
                “It is just as easy to reassemble the makeshift one here, Mr. Weasley,” Severus said, already working on gathering the PVC pipes they had used last time. Hermione noted the slightly crestfallen expression on George’s face and she had to pretend to cough to keep from snickering. It had been obvious on more than one occasion that George was starting to fancy Severus, even if it was just for his massive cock and impressive way of using it, though she could hardly blame him. In a matter of moments the bed had been reassembled, the marble table transfigured into a softer base.
                Hermione waited for Severus to remove his robe and climb onto it before she tugged the ends of the crimson silk. It flew from her fingers at once and split into three long streaming sections, flying right toward where he was lying on the bed. The longer length strapped itself across his torso, effectively binding him down to the makeshift mattress while the other length began an intricately woven pattern that held his legs together from the middle of his calves down to his feet. The third length looped itself around the tops of the four poster and knotted itself into the ornate pattern around his ankles. She watched as it dragged his legs up off the bed until they were suspended over him, exposing his arse to her while leaving his upper back and shoulders restrained down to the bed.
                “Oh my…” she licked her lips. Though with the way the silk bound him she could not part his legs, it forced his cheeks together making them look plump and full. “Oh goodness what on earth could be the purpose for this,” she said trying to imagine getting astride him from such a position and how ridiculous it would be to do so let alone maintain that position.
                George was gawking. “I think…” his voice squeaked as he spoke. He cleared his throat. “It’s a paddling position, Hermione.”
                She couldn’t see Severus’ face and for that she was grateful. Paddling had only been mentioned once in passing, when George had initially tried to run down a litany of products he knew he had in store for them. And he hadn’t even been able to properly explain them at the time. She had just assumed they were meant to be used on her, and while she and Ron— nor she and anyone else for that matter— had never dabbled into anything quite so kinky, it had never occurred to her that they could in fact be used on Severus. There was nothing to say that the art of being paddled or being whipped or cropped, as she had heard the term tittered about in the Gryffindor Common room from time to time before she would be forced to confiscate the latest copy of Playwitch, was solely to be practiced upon witches.
                At the time she hadn’t even been sure the idea was appealing to her; Hermione had never been exposed to pain as pleasure or the eroticisms of how fantasy and bondage play could drive one’s arousal to a feverish state. But the more she thought on it in that moment the more curious she became. At the very least she hoped there would be another opportunity for her to be paddled so she could see if it was something that tickled her fancy. Then she blushed horribly. Was she really standing there contemplating whether such a thing would turn her on? She was learning quite a great deal about herself and her sexuality through this job so what was to stop her from contemplating such things?
                “Blast,” she heard George muttering.
                “What’s the matter?” she asked.
                “I can’t find the one set of printed paddles that I had set aside, I figured we could test those too along with these.” In his hand he held a rolled over satchel not unlike a jewelry roll only much longer. With a shake of his arm it unraveled to reveal seven different instruments which looked terribly taboo to Hermione. Paddles and whips and crops of sorts; it was dizzying just taking them all in. “A week of bondage,” he said with a shrug. “They’ve each got a weekday name of sorts and they’re each meant to have a bit of a magical effect.” He moved over to hand the roll of paddles to Hermione. “We start with Monday and work our way through?”
                Hermione couldn’t help the grin that spread across her lips. “Sounds alright with me,” she said and then turned back to glance at Severus. She was forced to step around to the side. “What do you think?”
                “Get on with it, Miss Granger.” He said and then sighed, shifting a bit. “Paddle me.”
- 10
- 11
- 12
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Weasley's Wizard Wheezes