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Wands and Wheezes	By : auntlynnie Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 40170 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: Anti-Litigation Charm: Sadly, I don't own any part of the Harry Potter franchise. Nor do I own any canon characters, locations, or situations. I make no money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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- 13
Continued thanks to Jen - UnseenLibrarian for her mad beta skillz. You rock!

George felt desperate. "Tell me, please. Tell me what you want for your birthday."

She gulped, squeezing her hands tightly into white-knuckled fists until they hurt. "Your brother... I want Fred for my birthday."

~*°*~

As soon as she made her request, Hermione's eyes opened widely in shock before she buried her face in George's chest again.

George's eyes widened as well, and his eyebrows shot up. "Really? Is that why you were asking those deliciously naughty questions, love?"

When she realized he was more curious than angry, she lifted her head to look into his eyes again. Unable to find her voice just yet, she nodded slowly - almost imperceptibly, her cheeks still blazing red with mortification.

"You know, I don't think we ever really answered your questions."

"You didn't," she answered, softly.

"I think it's only fair to answer, since you've been so honest with me, love. Yes, we have shared witches in the past, but usually they weren't women either of us was very serious about."

"But you're serious about me..." she half-asked, half-stated.

George's cock twitched, causing both of them to gasp in surprise. He chuckled, saying "Yes, I'm quite serious about you. I happen to know, though, that my favourite brother fancies you quite a bit more than he lets on."

Hermione's face slid into a smirk. "Really, now? And when was he going to let me know?"

"Oh, don't give him too hard a time, my dear. He didn't want to interfere with our relationship. He was being magnanimous."

Now, she narrowed her eyes at her lover. "Deciding for me, were you?"

George decided to distract her from this negative train of thought. Her feisty reaction had already started to excite him. He gently circled his hips, the subtle stimulation enough to bring his member to full hardness again. He drew his hips back slightly and gently pressed into her warmth, surprising her.

"Oh - "

George smirked. "My love, do you really mind how you're getting what you want?" He began deepening his thrusts, but drawing out of her body torturously slowly before pressing back into her welcoming heat.

"I suppose not. Mmmm. Oh, yes - deeper, George, harder. Fuck me!"

George needed no further encouragement. He began thrusting up into her tight channel with as much vigour as possible from his position beneath her. He reached between them and pressed against her clit, eliciting a deep moan from the witch writhing on top of him. The feeling of her soft breasts rubbing against his sensitive nipples was delicious, but then she retreated a bit, and he immediately missed her warmth... until she began suckling on his hard, flat nipple. When she flicked it with her tongue, his balls drew up, and he knew his release was imminent.

"Come with me, Hermione. Please -" he begged, as he knew he wouldn't last much longer.

She stopped suckling his chest long enough to shout, "Yes, George!" She bit her lower lip in a combination of ecstasy and concentration as her pussy clamped down on his cock and her orgasm ripped through her body.

George practically howled his release, pumping his seed deep into the witch who had thoroughly entranced both him and his brother.

When he'd caught his breath, he looked into her eyes with the most guileless expression on his face, and pronounced, "Fred will be thrilled."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Hermione, we're twins. While we don't always kiss and tell, I know my brother. He will be more than happy to celebrate your birthday with us." To prevent any further self-doubting questions, he gave her a tender kiss.

Sighing, she put her head on his chest, enjoying listening to the steady beat of his heart. George swore he could feel her face shift into a wide smile.

"Don't worry, love. I'll take care of it."

She lifted her head, laced her hands together over his chest, and rested her chin on the back of her hand. "You will?"

"Unless you want to -"

"No - that's fine. You can talk to him." She said vehemently, cutting him off, still quite embarrassed that she'd given voice to her secret desire.

"I'd be happy to. Now, I'm quite in the mood for a shower. You?"

"A shower sounds lovely." She lifted herself off her lover, slightly self-conscious by the wet sounds of his spent prick slipping from her body and their mixed emissions sliding down her thigh. "Really lovely."

George grinned as his well-used cock landed wetly on his belly. He sat up quickly and drew her hand to his lips for a kiss before she could flee to the bath. "Oh, my dear, you are most beautiful when you're completely debauched. It's a lovely reminder of the wonderful things we've been doing, and I hope you're never mortified by what we do together." His beautiful eyes met hers, and they were full of earnest honesty.

His forthright acceptance comforted her, and she caressed his cheek. "Thank you, George. I really needed to hear that. I swear, sometimes it's scary how you know what I'm thinking."

This renewed his smile. "That's because I do, sort of. Part of being a twin - and a successful prankster - is learning how to read your counterpart - or accomplice, if you will." He leaned in conspiratorially, "Can you keep a secret?" she nodded, enthralled in the tale, "Fred and I weren't born reading each other's minds. We each learned how to read the other, and that's served us well in many circumstances."

Hermione cocked her head quizzically, "Like when?"

"Well, we know when to tease and when to stop. We know when Mum has had her fill of us, and we also use it when negotiating contracts. Basically, we've learned how to suss out someone's tells, and use them to our own advantage."

"How very Slytherin of you!"

He stood and gave a brief bow, which seemed quite perverse in his nudity. "Thank you, milady. Shall we?" He asked, indicating the hallway to her bathroom.

She drew up all the arrogance she could muster in her naked and debauched state and lifted her nose haughtily. "We shall."

He chased her down the hall, and she yelped when, halfway to their destination, he scooped her up to carry her the rest of the way. Her shrieks of laughter echoed against the walls.

~*°*~

The next week passed in a blur for Hermione; new first-year students came in to the shop daily with their parents to get their wands. It was her favourite time of year - seeing so many happy faces shining with delight when chosen by a wand. In moments like this, she knew she'd chosen the perfect career.

On Thursday of that week, she heard the bell on the shop door jingle. There was no way to be ready for the sight that greeted her. There stood Draco Malfoy with a witch she vaguely remembered from her schooldays. They had seen each other at various social events over the years and while they weren't friends, they were respectful of each other and they were able to have pleasant conversation when necessary. She plastered a smile on her face, unsure as to the nature of the visit, since she didn't see a child who needed to be outfitted with a wand.

"May I help you?"

Malfoy's face remained impassive, greeting her with cool politeness: "Granger. I don't know you ever had a chance to meet my wife, Astoria Malfoy, née Greengrass."

Hermione looked at her, trying to recall her name. "Daphne's sister?"

The woman beside him smiled shyly and stepped forward. "Yes. I was two years behind you, in Ravenclaw. I was wondering if you could help me. You see, my wand was damaged yesterday, and I'm hoping it can be repaired."

Hermione shifted into wandmaker mode, any social awkwardness disappearing. "How was it damaged?"

"I was home, playing with my Crup pup. I was conjuring bubbles for her to chase, but she got a bit excited, and bit my wand." She proffered the broken wand on her outstretched hands. "It's cracked, here, by the tip... can you fix it?" The tip end of the proffered wand was indeed cracked, and some of the core material was exposed, but it didn't seem hopeless.

Hermione examined the wand closely. Her full attention was on her task. "It may be reparable, depending on the extent of the internal damage. As long as the actual tip of the wand is intact, I should be able to repair it for you. Give me a few moments?"

"Of course, Ms. Granger," the young woman replied, a relieved smile on her lovely features.

Hermione took the wand into her workshop and began working on it. She was able to restring the core - a Unicorn tail hair - and then set to repairing the wood. The task was delicate, and required her full concentration. Ten minutes later, she returned to the main room of her shop. The witch was waiting anxiously by the counter, but Malfoy seemed to have wandered away.

"Here you go. Would you like to try it?"

"Oh, yes, thank you!" She thought for a moment, and cast "Orchideous". A lovely arrangement of flowers appeared on the counter. "Oh, it works! It feels wonderful!"

Hermione cocked her head, "What do you mean, 'wonderful'?"

"I don't quite know. It feels the same, but... better, somehow."

Hermione smiled. "I'm glad you're happy with it. I'm pleased I could help."

From the corner of her eye, she saw Malfoy approaching. When she looked at him, she was horrified to see he'd picked up her broom from the corner where she'd dropped it upon her return from her flying lesson.

"Granger, thank you for helping with Astoria's wand." He paused, and then held forward the broom. "This broom doesn't seem the type for doing the sweeping up." He cocked an eyebrow.

Hermione cringed. "That's because it isn't." She hoped the terse answer would suffice. It didn't.

"If I remember correctly, you were never overly fond of brooms... and this one doesn't seem to be a commercial brand."

"What would you know about that, and why would you even care?" She answered, feeling defensive.

"Because I own controlling shares in several broomstick manufacturers, so I'm always intrigued by other companies' brooms. But I don't see any kind of maker's mark on this broom. Who made it?"

Hermione blushed crimson, silently refusing to answer his query.

His eyes shot wide open, and his eyebrows flew toward his hairline. "Did you make this broom, Granger?"

Hermione pursed her lips, and Malfoy gave her what seemed to be a genuine smile.

"You did, didn't you? I never thought I'd see the day... did you finally face that particular Boggart? Can you fly it?"

"Yes, I fly it!" She answered rashly, her hands flying to cover her mouth, appalled that he'd so easily goaded her to reply.

"Hmmm... I don't know if I like the idea of just anyone making their own broom."

Astoria placed her hand on his arm. "Draco, please."

He exhaled. Hermione marveled at how this witch was able to calm him with only two words. Turning to the young woman, she smiled.

"Thank you, Astoria. Draco and I... we have a tendency to bring out the worst in each other."

Draco barked out in laughter. "I think that's the understatement of the year, Granger."

Hermione smirked. "I know."

Draco looked at her calculatingly. "Seriously, though, Granger, it's no great secret that you were always terrified of broomsticks. How did you do it? How did you figure out a way to fly? For that matter, why did you do it?"

Hermione huffed in irritation at his tenacity. "You're not going to leave without answers, are you?"

Draco shook his head. "Nope. You've piqued my interest now."

"All right. Fine. I'll tell you, but you had better not take the mickey."

"I promise."

She pinched the bridge of her nose to stave off headache and began an abbreviated tale of her broomstick-making journey. "I never really got over the fact that I wasn't able to fly a proper broomstick. There were those who said that any witch worth her wand should be able to fly a broom, and I couldn't.

"As you now know, there have been several instances in my life where flying became necessary. I've flown on brooms, of course, and on a Thestral, a Hippogriff, and a dragon. I realized that while I didn't cherish flying on animals, I felt safer than when I was on a broom. I believed that my fear of flying on a broom was actually a combination of a fear of heights and a desire to maintain control. I always felt that flying on a broom gave too much control to the broom and too much trust in a broommaker I could never know, if that makes any sense.

"So, I bought a broom and took it apart. I studied what I could of broom models and the charms used in their manufacture. Since broomlore and wandlore are closely related, I was able to create a broom - that broom - and it is attuned to my magic. It has special safety charms built in that are keyed to my magical signature. While someone else would be able to fly on it, it will only perform optimally for me. Oh - and I can't fall off of it."

Draco looked at her, then at the broom appraisingly. "Are you saying this broom is safer than most brooms on the market?"

"I'd say that for me, it is. It's keyed to my magic, so it's almost impossible to fall off, and it's built for safety, not speed like most brooms on the market today. Fred and George teased me that it's safer than most toddler brooms." She laughed a bit, forgetting her company, and not realising that he was still deep in thought. When their eyes met, his raised eyebrow quelled her mirth.

"Interesting. Do you think you could make another one keyed to another witch or wizard's magic?"

Hermione considered the question carefully before answering. "I might be able. Obviously it's different from wands, as I create the wand before I meet the wizard. The wand basically... tells me what it needs to be complete, and then it waits to claim its wizard. The charm on a broom has to be matched to someone's magic, which is a bit more precise. It's possible, but I don't know if it would ever be profitable."

Draco thought about her response. Handing her the broom, he inclined his head. "Well, thank you for your time. What do we owe you for the repair?"

"The repair? Oh - the wand. Nothing. It wasn't any bother, and it only took a few minutes."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Granger, you'll never get rich with that attitude." He tossed twenty Galleons on the counter, "for your time," and strode out, ushering Astoria out ahead of him.

Hermione looked at the pile of Galleons, then at the retreating back of her former classmate, bemused.
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Wands and Wheezes