Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Weasley's Wizard Wheezes	By : CryingCinderella Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 131978 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 30
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor do I make any money from writing these stories.

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A/N: Thank you for waiting it out- I'm so sorry it's been almost six months. Updates will be more frequent now.

The bright black and red swirl of the shiny lolly was a bit more than she’d come prepared for. Of course everything they’d encountered thus far had really been a bit more than she’d honestly been prepared for. “Lustipops?” she said again, for perhaps the dozenth time. Just saying the name made her shudder with things that were not particularly pleasant. They sounded horrific; just the notion that something was designed to be sucked on to get you in the mood. Why couldn’t people just naturally get into the mood? “Choco-cherry Lustipop,” staring intently at the phallic pop that was a deep crimson swirled with black. “George— did he actually mean for this to be practical?” she asked, her brow furrowing.

            Severus looked equally unamused as he twirled a similar lolly in his fingers, only his was the same bright green and black swirl as the emerald chocolate nipple cream had been. “Choco-mint Lustipop,” he read and then shook his head. “The novelty aspect of this is indeed…novel,” he muttered, “Bordering on childish…but I do not think they’re practical. If you want them to jump-start arousal you want something that you can easily keep in your mouth at the very least, if not swallow entirely,” he said with a simple shrug before putting it back into the holder alongside a few other flavors.

            George sighed. “I guess he just figured it would be a fun and flirty way to get things started, or in this case, restarted,” he shrugged and dipped his quill into the red inkpot, scribbling in the ledger once more. “What do you think, Hermione?”

            She contemplated it for a long moment. “I think I agree with Severus,” she said slowly. “First of all— your target audience— if you’re shooting for the regenerative aspect— is not going to want to suck on a lolly to do it, especially not one shaped like this,” she paused a moment. “Come to think of it— even if it were just for getting started I don’t know that I’d want to suck on it either,” she said a bit nervously.

            “Does it taste funny?” George asked seeming to ignore her comment on the shape entirely.

            “Haven’t tasted it yet— I think I’m plenty lusted up after that fuck,” she said simply. It was crass and careless, but if he could be apathetic and cold so could she. She had resolved herself, while not sleeping at Percy’s flat the night prior, that she wasn’t going to be showing anymore anything as far as he was involved. He’d fucked her the day before with nothing so much as a command to wrap her legs around him. And today had been even worse; the glare that clearly reflected some sort of minor annoyance that she had wanted a moment to prepare herself. So she’d given up trying to hide her arousal like it was something to be ashamed of. If he was going to ignore it then so was she.

            George chuckled. “Guess women don’t really need to be re-stimulated to go again, do they?” he said with a slight sigh. He’d had them test the second in the box of house condoms— the Ribbed Ravenclaw, which as it turned out only had one rib on it and was going to need modifying before it would be marketed correctly; though for consistency’s sake he’d had Severus unload himself in it once more just to test the condom’s durability.

            That had left them standing; both in robes that George had brought for them so they wouldn’t have to be constantly dressing and undressing; holding the Lustipops in their hands, pondering them. Hermione handed the Choco-cherry one to Severus who took it and glared at it as he had been with the mint one. “Why is it assumed that all sexual pleasure toys must be flavored with either cherry or mint?” he muttered.

            “The oils are probably the easiest to distil and not be lethal or foul,” she said simply and then walked over to George. “I don’t think having me try it at the moment would do you any good. I could go again— most women could— so it might be a waste of a pop,” she glanced back over at Severus. “But he’s worth a shot.”

            “Well?” George said.

            Severus rolled his eyes and then peeled the nearly invisible plastic wrapper back off the bright red and black swirled phallus shaped lolly. He pushed the thing into his mouth and held it there before pulling it out. “This is cloyingly sweet,” he muttered and then sucked it back in. “And you’ll be hard pressed to find a straight-oriented man who wants to suck a cock-shaped lolly regardless of how fast it gets him re-aroused,” he said and then stopped talking, again gently sucking on the lolly. Another moment or two had passed and he pulled the pop from his mouth, setting it upright in its stand. He undid the lapels of his robe and held them open. “About three minutes give or take I was talking,” he said, gazing down at his hardened erection.

            “Right,” George said, making a note. “Hermione, will you—”

            She nodded, walking back over to where Severus stood at the work table. She didn’t look at him, not at his eyes anyhow, as she moved to stand in front of him, her hand reaching out and gently curling around his shaft. “He’s hard, a solid firmness,” she said and stroked her hand up over his tip. “Doesn’t seem to be fading,” she said and then released his cock from her hand after another few strokes. She ignored the thrilling pulse that shot up her spin at touching his hardness. The fact that he’d been but moments ago plowing himself into her had nothing to do with it or at least she was attempting to convince herself of that fact.

            “Did you want to do the Hufflepuff Happy or the Gryffindor Glow-in-the-Dark next?” she asked, after calming her voice enough to speak. She turned her gaze to the two remaining foil pouches in the Hogwarts House Condom box. “I don’t have a preference,” she added.

            George continued to scribble in his notebook. After a moment he set his quill in the inkwell and moved over to the table. “So you think that a lozenge might be better?” he asked Severus.

            “It would be more discreet,” he said simply. “Certainly not so crass as to have to suck upon a cock pop, though with the correct marketing that sort of novelty could appeal to the gay man’s ego,”

            “Not even my ego finds that appealing,” George admitted with a sour face. “And Hermione?” he asked.

            “No, George— I didn’t even taste it and I just…for a hen’s party yes, a little novelty gift bag lolly- but not as a functional rejuvenator or starter, it’ s just too…I don’t even know…bit too much, I guess.”

            He sighed. “Right. I’ll tinker with the formula tonight and see if I can’t turn this Lustipop into a LustiLozenge,” he said with a bit of a grin.

            “And not cherry,” they found themselves saying in unison. Hermione couldn’t help herself as she blushed. She hated artificial cherry; it was reminiscent of plastic and soap all at the same time. And apparently Severus Snape did not care for it either.

She could still feel the slight throb between her legs from when he’d just finished fucking her with the single ribbed condom. She hadn’t come then but she had felt herself getting close and she silently prayed that when they tested the next condom, if she did manage to finish that she would at least be modest and quiet about it.

            “Go ahead and try the Hufflepuff Happy,” George said, making big red inky letters over the word ‘cherry’ in his ledger book. “There are no notes about what it’s supposed to do— but I imagine it’ll be apparent rather quickly…” he trailed off and then summoned his stool over with the ledger so that he could watch and take notes as Hermione and Severus prepared to test the next condom.

            Without needing to be prompted, Hermione hopped up onto the work table. For being a marble table the surface felt a good deal more malleable than it had when she’d sat upon it the day before. She couldn’t tell if it was because a charm had been cast to soften the surface or because her body was adjusting. Leaning back she pushed her robe open, there was no sense in removing it entirely, and leveled her back against the table, waiting for Severus as he extracted the condom from its foil pouch.

            Immediately she began to laugh. Severus was frowning, looking rather displeased, Hermione’s giggling only serving to antagonize his irritation. “Hufflepuff Happy…” he grumbled, rolling his eyes as he held the rubber in his hands. It was a garish almost electric shade of yellow with little black smiley faces microscopically printed all over the latex. No doubt when he would slip it on the faces would stretch a good deal larger and look ridiculous. The rim of the condom was quite thick, almost hard and plastic like, which intrigued him, but not enough to dismiss how truly atrocious the thing looked as a whole.

            “Just a novel design?” Hermione asked.

            George gazed at the two of them expectantly, half grinning, half curious. “My brother was a genius,” he said and then turned to scribble a quick note in the ledger before bringing his eyes back to Severus. The Lustipop had indeed done its job for the dour man remained at attention despite the repulsive condom held in his hand.

            “That is questionable at best, Mr. Weasley,” Severus muttered. As he slid the condom onto the length of his cock he groaned just a bit. “Bugger,” he swore under his breath; the first audible utterance that had left his lips and had not been a direct commentary on the product itself.

            Hearing this caused Hermione to sit up from the table and raise her eyebrows slightly. “What’s the matter?” she asked, watching as his facial muscles tensed slightly.

            “It would appear that this particular condom is designed to sustain pleasure,” he said tersely.

            Hermione frowned. “What do you mean?” she asked.

            Severus, who was now standing just in front of her, cock well hidden in the bright yellow rubber, sighed. “The rimmed edge of the condom is acting like a suppressant,” he said. And then rolled his eyes seeing the bewildered look upon both Hermione and George’s faces. “It’s acting like a cock ring…to keep the man from bursting like Freddy Firstie on his first go,” he said, his voice pinched ever so slightly.

            A soft snort echoed from George, but it was Hermione’s reaction that seemed to puzzle him the most. She still looked slightly perplexed. Turning her doe-wide cinnamon eyes up to his she let the hint of a frown grace her lips. “I don’t think I understand—”

            “Miss Granger, if I have to explain to you at this point how the male anatomy works, then I’m truly at a loss as to how you made it this far in life.”

            His words stung, not so much of an angry sting but a bitter and rather furious one. But she kept her calm, after all, there was no sense in causing a fuss or making a scene. She needed the money and it wouldn’t do to have him storming out of the job, though considering his own situation, she very much doubted he would. Though she didn’t want to change it. “Had you not interrupted me,” she said pointedly, but did not raise her voice. “I was going to say that I don’t think I understand why you’re so displeased…I would think most men would be rather happy to have assistance in sustainability.”

            George was still scribbling away in the ledger, flipping pages back and forth, comparing notes. Severus held her gaze after hearing her statement, but said nothing for several long moments. It was as if he were studying her, searching her eyes, though she felt no mental intrusion and decided that he wasn’t attempting to invade her thoughts. But it unnerved her that he continued to stare. Hermione’s shoulders stiffened when his hand came forward and tipped her chin up just slightly, as if gazing into the eyes of a defiant child.

            “I am not most men,” his whisper was so subtle she wasn’t entirely sure that he had actually spoken. A part of her was convinced her mind was playing tricks on her, and had it not been for the shiver that shot up her spine as his fingers released her chin, she would have sworn she’d imagined it. He made no motion to step back from the table, his body quite close to hers, and she could feel the heat radiating between them.

            “There’s a note,” George’s voice broke the peculiar tension that had mounted between them in that moment. They both turned their heads to look at him. “It’s barely legible but it looks like it says, test riding up,” he frowned and then flipped another page. “Test riding up?” George scratched his head and then flipped the two pages back and forth as if staring at them in that manner would somehow make his brother’s cryptic note clearer. “Test riding up…test…riding— oh!” he said, a sudden eureka moment hitting him. “I think he means it should be tested upright, with her riding your lap.”

            If Hermione hadn’t been shaken before, she was certainly shaken by this latest statement. Ride him? As in to literally straddle her legs across his lap and have sexual intercourse in that fashion? Her entire body seemed to stiffen in that moment as she contemplated the notion. While she had personally never had sex in any other position other than lying flat on her back, she was well aware that there were many other styles in which other people went about having intercourse. She had just never given any of them much thought as she had never been in a position to try them out.

            “You think you can manage that, Hermione?” George’s voice cut clear through her jumbled thoughts.

            “What?” she asked, shaking her head slightly. “Oh, yes, um, I don’t see why not…” her eyes gazed at Severus, who looked none too pleased at the suggestion. “I mean, if that’s alright with—”

            “Fine,” he said, waving his hand dismissively at her.

            She had half expected him to refuse. Though she supposed that there was little point in refusing after everything they’d done already. What surprised her was when he grabbed the nearby stool and then stalked over to where his robes hung from the hook near the workshop door, returning a moment later with his wand. “If we’re going to do this, it needs to be done right,” he said and then pointed his wand at the stool.

            Seldom, if ever, had Hermione seen Severus Snape use a wand. Knowing full well that he believed most magical spells to be foolish wand waving, and knowing that he preferred wandless and often wordless magic, she was shocked to see him begin to transfigure the stool. Her eyes were glued to the wood as it began to shift its shape, stretching and lengthening until he had made a solid, albeit uncomfortable looking, cushionless armchair. She watched in awe as he slipped out of his robe and draped it over the chair, another swish of his wand turning the material into simple cushions that covered the entirety of the newly created piece of furniture.

            Hermione had always been impressed with his magical skill, but actually seeing him perform magic had left her completely speechless. She did, however, note that while involving himself with the transfiguration he’d gone a good deal soft. Slipping down off the table she plucked up the mint flavored Lustipop and carefully peeled back the wrapper. It crinkled slightly in her hands, the harsh sound filling the workshop as she moved slowly over to Severus. “Here,” she said, not meeting his eyes.

            He nodded, though unpleased at the prospect of having to utilize the product, and then sucked the pop into his mouth. Immediately he spit the lolly back out, his lips puckered as if he’d licked a lemon. “This is dreadful,” he said and handed it back to her.

            Curiosity having always been a great weakness, she popped the phallic lolly into her mouth and just as he had, immediately pulled it back out. “George, I think Fred got the flavors wrong, or at the very least the label…it’s some sort of tart citrus,” she shuddered and then quickly placed the lolly back in the stand, grabbing up the cherry one instead. This caused a great sigh of annoyance from Severus, but he took the pop and within moments his cock was once more fully firm, standing erect inside the bright yellow smiley face-printed condom.

            “Lime maybe?” George asked, flipping back several pages to make a note about what was supposed to be the choco-mint Lustipop.

            Hermione simply shrugged her shoulders, taking the pop back from Severus and placing it in the holder. She noted that he hadn’t yet sat down in the makeshift armchair, though he was standing stark naked, save for the condom, as if waiting for her. “I don’t know I would call that lime…”

            “Right.” George scribbled away and then paused a moment. “I guess just have a go with this and note problems as they arise?” he said. “Finish as you have been and once you do we can take a break, maybe I’ll order us in dinner up in my flat,” he offered. “I’d like us to work late tonight if that’s alright with you both.”

            She smiled politely at the offer and then nodded her head. “It’s fine with me,” she said and took a hesitant step toward Severus. He nodded silently and then slowly sank down into armchair, the makeshift cushions from his transfigured robe giving slightly under the weight of his frame. The concept seemed simple enough, straddle his lap, and slide herself down onto his cock; it wasn’t, after all, ancient ruins and alchemy. But she could feel her nerves standing on end.

            Taking two steps toward him she found herself standing just in front of where he sat, a nervous blush filling her cheeks. She didn’t need to say that she had absolutely no idea what she was doing as she was sure that much was written clear as day across her face. A nervous glance into his eyes made her blush all the more; he appeared to be evaluating the situation. There was a moment of agonizing silence and then he sighed, and she bit her lower lip, feeling dreadfully inadequate, terribly aroused, and thoroughly perplexed all at once.

            “Take your robe off, it will make it easier,” he said. His tone was not harsh or demeaning as she had expected, though it certainly wasn’t tender. Instructional; as if he were once again her teacher, trying to import some great knowledge into her mind. This made her flush all the more; the thought of Severus Snape teaching her about sex was mortifying. Though in hindsight she realized that was exactly what had been happening. She’d gone to his house not but two nights before to receive an additional lesson of sorts, and he’d guided nearly everything they’d done in the workshop thus far. She was taking sex lessons from Severus Snape.

            Hermione hesitated for a moment, but did not wish to make herself seem anxious or as nervous as she felt and she certainly didn’t want him to have to bother with the Lustipop again. Closing her eyes she let her arms fall flat against the sides of her body, slowly shrugging her shoulders until the robe slipped down her frame and puddled on the floor around her feet. She was still completely bare between her legs; the little trick formula that had denuded her having quite the lasting power. She wasn’t sure why this made her more nervous; perhaps the fact that her swollen pink labia seemed even more exposed without pubic hair to hide them. Thinking about it only made her blush, which made meeting his gaze very, very difficult.

            She inhaled sharply, caught off guard when both of his hands clutched her around her hips and pulled her forward, forcing her to bend her knees a bit to keep from completely collapsing against him and down into the chair. It took a moment, with the guidance of his hands, before she was able to settle herself into his lap, her knees folded with her heels pressing upward into the back of her ass. She was straddled over his lap, her naked sex resting against his crotch, his erection pressed up firmly against her mound. Being in his lap made her feel small; not that he was an overly large man, his frame was slender though toned with muscles, and being in the chair took away the element of his looming height. But she couldn’t help how much tinier she felt astride him; almost childlike.

            Hermione could feel his eyes watching her as she nervously shifted her weight, trying to decide how best to angle her hips up to slide herself down onto his condom-covered cock. His words froze her and she stiffened, feeling his hands once more— though she wasn’t entirely sure they had ever left her hips— gripping her more firmly as if to raise her body up from his lap.

            “Lift your hips,” he said, one hand easing away from her hip to grip the base of his cock, holding it still as he waited for her to do as he had instructed her.

            Her legs trembled slightly as she arched her hips upward, giving him enough space to line the tip of his cock at her entrance. She was soaking; not damp but wet beyond compare and there hadn’t even been foreplay involved. The prospect of sliding down his large shaft sent shivers racing up her spine. But holding herself up above him was starting to cause a tremor in her leg. With one hand pressed flat against his chest, Hermione rolled her hips slightly forward and eased her weight downward, effectively, albeit slowly, impaling herself on his cock.

            She moaned, unable to help herself as he filled her; condom or no condom he was long and thick and stretched her. Having only experienced his cock twice before her body was still adjusting to his size. Her mind was reeling out of control in that moment and she forced herself to sit absolutely motionless in his lap, his cock buried to the hilt inside of her.

            “You alright?” George called, noting that they seemed to be sitting still.

            “Yes,” she panted; a breathy whisper. This caused her cheeks to flood with scarlet. Hermione cleared her throat. “Yes, George, I’m fine, just need a moment to adjust…” she said, twisting her hips a bit.

            “Right,” he said and then nodded at Severus. “And you?”

            He nodded his head. “She is extremely tight,” he said plainly, not a hint of wavering control loss in his voice. “Though this condom seems to be doing wonders for that as I can hardly feel her.”

            “Hmm…I wonder if that’s something that should be adjusted.” George was speaking aloud, not really to either one of them and once again he took to scribbling in his ledger.

            “I would imagine that if the design of this device is to keep the partner ‘happy’ as so aptly mentioned in the name…leaving it as is would be just fine.” Severus let his hands fall away from her body, resting his forearms idly on the arms of the makeshift chair. “Though you may want to adjust just how long such a condom cuts off sensation…” he said.

            “You don’t have any sensation?” George asked, his brows furrowing.

            “I didn’t say that, Mr. Weasley,” Severus paused a moment and then leaned his head to the side to gaze beyond Hermione’s shoulder to where the other wizard sat. “But given that the sensation is limited, no doubt a side effect of the product’s functionality, it may take a less skilled wizard a much longer time to recover afterward, and if left to his own devices he may not finish after a prolonged period of restraint in this nature.”

            The words swam over Hermione’s head. She was not familiar with the notion of cock rings, and particularly not this new concept that a condom could serve as one. She supposed in passing she had read about their helpful uses in sustaining a man’s pleasure, and if she took a moment to gather her thoughts on the male anatomy she could actualize what he was saying. But all of that was lost on her in the moment as she felt that pulsing throbbing need deep inside of her; the sensation of being filled by him only perpetuating that sensation.

            Timid and slightly trembling fingers reached out and gripped his shoulders, giving herself leverage as she slowly began to raise her hips upward, gliding up the length of his shaft, nearly pulling him all the way out of her before she slowly sank back down onto him. It took every ounce of self control she possessed not to moan and whimper as the feeling of his thick shaft filled her once more. Every nerve in her body was tingling as she began to raise her hips up again, the clenching pull of her inner walls, slick and heated, giving a slight friction that made her stomach roil in pleasure.

            Hermione kept her eyes closed for several minutes as she rode up and down on his shaft; the slow gentle up and down motion filling her body with a burning heat that started inside of her where their bodies were joined and bubbled up through the rest of her being. She kept her fingers gripped tightly against his shoulders, using his body to ease her motions. It was his hand on her hip that caused her eyes to blink wide open, her gaze immediately focused on his.

            “If you go at that pace we’ll be in this chair for an hour,” he said flatly. The hand that was on her hip was no longer just touching her but gripping her flesh; firmly but not harshly. She could feel the way the pads of his fingers dug into her skin and it caused her to whimper just slightly. Not in the least because it was causing her pain but because he was touching her. His touch was beyond pleasurable and causing her to slowly lose the control that she was trying so hard to maintain.

            “Right…” she panted, her voice breathy but not nearly as wanton as she had sounded when she’d first answered George.

            “Like this,” he said, his other hand taking up purchase on her right hip, both of his hands now gripping her, and lifting her up more firmly than she had been lifting herself. Up and down, up and down. While he had not increased her tempo drastically, it was a noticeable difference. There was more heat and friction as he bounced her a bit more sturdily in his lap than she had been. All the while his eyes gazed into hers, as if simply trying to have something to focus on. “Use your weight against my shoulders,” he said, encouraging her to move with him as he arched his hips up slightly to meet her on a downward thrust.

            Sex was not meant to be so technical. But despite the way he was treating it her body was heating. And she found that it was extremely difficult to focus on everything he was saying. She had been trying so hard to keep from losing herself entirely; after all he seemed to be perfectly fine, though somewhere in the back of her lust-fogged brain she recalled that the current product was reducing his sensation. Hermione blinked her eyes several times as if trying to focus, though it did little to help. Up and down; his hands still on her hips, half guiding her, though now she was moving a bit more on her own. He stretched her; filled her more fully than anything she’d ever felt and it was driving her mad.

            Hermione closed her eyes, her head falling slightly forward and she could feel the mass of her hair, which she’d failed to pin up, clinging to her neck, little beads of sweat damping her skin. It took everything she had not to moan as she felt herself beginning to tighten; her walls trembling and clenching more furiously at him as she rocked her hips a bit more forcefully than before. Her body was practically writhing atop him though she was doing her best to keep it from showing. Every nerve ending within her was slowly blazing into an uncontrollable fire and she could feel little jolts of blinding pleasure with each downward shift of her body; the way their bodies met nudging her clit just so.

            She inhaled sharply as she slid down hard on his shaft; feeling him not only hitting something wickedly pleasurable within her but also pushing her to her limit of what she could take. Her head lulled forward a bit further and she buried her face against the crook of his neck, panting as silently as she could manage, her lips brushing against his skin, eyes closed. For a moment, though it was hard to find coherent thought, she was certain he would force her head upright. But the only thing she felt was the up and down motion, faster than before, of riding his cock. His thick turgid cock, regardless of being covered in the ridiculous condom, driving up into her. It wasn’t like before when she’d been laid back on the table and he was in complete control. This was different. This was her moving atop him, and even though he was guiding her hips and arching up to meet her, she was riding him. Something she had never attempted with another partner and something that she was relishing in the moment.

            Her body was hot; rivulets of sweat now running down her back and between her shoulder blades and her silent panting was now a keening whimper. She could no longer concentrate on trying to hold back, on trying to be quiet; the sensations were too great. Her lips were still brushing against his skin and without even realizing it so was her tongue. The taste of his flesh, slightly salty and warm, made her tremble as she bounced up and down in his lap. The frenzied friction was nearly undoing, but it was the hand against the back of her head, not pulling her up away from his neck, but resting there, as if holding her there, that did it.

            Hermione felt her body seize, her toes curling instinctively despite being pressed awkwardly up against her backside. She’d achieved an orgasm before, but never during sex, and never with something quite so filling for her walls to clench around. Spasms shot through her and she began to quake, a low sound that was caught somewhere between a cry and a moan escaping her lips as her body gave over to the waves of pleasure that radiated through her. By no means was it the most intense orgasm she’d ever felt, but it was indeed pleasurable, enough to take her completely out of her mind for the handful of blissful moments that it lasted.

            She felt her body collapse, her lungs weighing heavy in her chest as she tried to regain control of her breathing, her body feeling just a little bit spent. His hand had not moved from the back of her head but in that moment all she could focus on was how he was still buried to the hilt inside of her and how strange a feeling it was to have felt her own orgasm from actual intercourse and on top of it that he was still hard and inside of her. This dawning realization caused a frantic scramble of sorts as Hermione thrust her head up, pulling back from his body enough to gaze awkwardly into his eyes. Her cheeks, which were already fully flushed with the heat and color of her release, stung even warmer as she realized how sentimentally intimate she’d just been with him.

            There were no words, and she found that despite her best efforts his eyes were impossible to read. So for a moment they sat in silence, she still astride his cock and he simply staring at her. She didn’t trust her voice to speak, but felt strange simply sitting there. After all they were meant to be testing the condom. Hermione bit her lower lip, looking thoroughly perplexed and fully shagged.

            “It would appear this one serves its purpose,” said Severus after a moment, though he made no motion to dislodge her from her current position. She had expected him to sound snide, or at the very least let his lips curl into a smirk, but his voice was level and she noted with slight disappointment that he was gazing over her shoulder in George’s general direction. “To maintain a durational erection in order to please one’s partner…”

            “Right,” George said. “Hermione you feel alright? Didn’t give you any pains or feel out of place?”

            It took a moment before she realized that she had been addressed. “Er, yeah it was fine…just fine,” she said and then turned her head to look back over her shoulder. “How should we—”

            “He can finish,” George shrugged his shoulders. “Switch up positions if you need to, or what have you,” he said standing from the stool. “And let me know if there are any issues, I’m assuming it’ll hold up just like the other two did.” The redhead put the ledger down and walked over to the table, picking up the final foil pouch from the box of condoms. “I’ll be this needs to be exposed to light before it’ll function, so I’m going to open it now, we can give this one a test after dinner,” he said and then tore into the little pouch. Placing the condom gently atop the box, George turned and retrieved the ledger. “I’ll order us some dinner, meet me up in the apartment when you two finish up, the password is wonky wanker.”

            She was practically climbing out of lap as soon as George began to walk toward the stairs. So quickly that she nearly fell over once she did manage to stand; Hermione hadn’t realized how much pressure she’d been putting on her legs in that position and her calves and ankles had fallen asleep. It was such a bizarre situation; both of them still completely naked, her now slick and dripping with her own release and he still rock hard wearing the ridiculous yellow smiley-faced condom. The sound of the door to the apartment seemed to jar her thoughts, leaving her standing awkwardly just in front of him. “Er should—”

            “Climb up on the table,” he said, just as he had said earlier in the afternoon when they’d tested the rather incomplete ribbed condom. Hermione was at a loss for words and longed more than anything to put her clothes back on. It wasn’t that it hadn’t been entirely pleasurable, it had just incidentally been the most peculiar bout of sex she’d ever experienced in her life. But not wanting to prolong the inevitable she climbed up onto the table and for a moment sat with her legs dangling over the edge. “Lay back…” he said as he stood from the chair and moved to stand between her legs. “Or don’t,” he shrugged and then gripped her hips, positioning himself at her entrance once more.

            The sudden thrust of his cock once more nestled deep within her caused her to gasp audibly. Hermione forced herself to shut her eyes, but only did so for a moment, immediately thinking better of it. If her eyes were closed, her mind would wander and the last thing she needed was a wandering mind while he continued to fuck her. The threat of once again becoming terribly intimate and familiar with him was enough to keep her eyes open as he began to thrust into her in earnest; moving much harder and faster than she had when she’d been astride his cock.

            His face was as unreadable as his eyes; but she couldn’t take her own eyes off him. There was something unnatural about not looking at him and she didn’t trust her own imagination if she closed her eyes. This left Hermione staring up at him as he pounded into her; moving hard and fast, working her quickly into another frenzy of heated friction and pleasured jolts deep in her core. “Ooh…” she moaned, consequences be damned as she felt herself approaching a secondary orgasm. One that was not quite achieved as she felt him slam into her in rapid succession, his cock shuddering. A burst of heat and liquid filled her and for a moment it was near ecstasy; so close to her own climax that she welcomed feeling his.

            It wasn’t until he began to pull out of her that she felt the stickiness running down the crease of her thigh. At first she thought nothing of it; her own juices from being so close to her second orgasm. But she watched him carefully as he held his slowly deflating cock in his hand, the slightly purplish head now visible through a hole at the tip of the condom. Her stomach dropped; her whole body flushing with a cold numbness for the briefest of moments.

            Severus, who did not seem perturbed in the least, muttered some sort of scourgifying spell that cleared the remains of the broken condom away and cleaned his member. He turned and picked up his discarded robe, slipping it on over his frame before moving meticulously across the room to the hook where his frock coat hung with his other garments. Within a moment he had returned to where she was now sitting up on the table, a tiny vial pinched between his thumb and forefinger.

            For a moment, Hermione simply stared at the cloudy blue liquid. Her mind was trying to process everything that had happened, and a part of her mind was still reeling from once again missing out on an orgasm. But after a moment of sitting silently and staring she noticed that the vial was growing closer to her face. Largely because Severus had extended his hand to her. She shook her head as if to startle herself awake from her lost and confused thoughts. “What—”

            “A preventative measure,” he said simply. “I’ve been bringing one every day but we have not yet had a need for it. It won’t affect any regimen you might currently be on,” he paused. “Not that I imagine you’d have reason to be on one,” he added with the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips.

            This simply flabbergasted her. The smirk that she saw before it vanished from his lips, that slight tone in his voice. All too reminiscent of the night she’d visited him at Spinner’s End. And certainly baring echoes of every verbal torment he’d ever laid upon her during her days as a student at Hogwarts. She took the vial, perhaps snatching it from his fingers a bit harder than was necessary, but downed it all the same. It was slightly bitter and had a grainy texture to it, but she tried not to notice as she swallowed the liquid. The glass container vanished once emptied and satisfied that she wasn’t going to throw it up, Severus turned and walked back to the rack where his clothes were hung, beginning to dress.

            “I am, though,” she said, hopping down from the table. Hermione didn’t bother with the robe, muttering her own wandless cleansing charms to freshen up before she moved over to near where he stood, plucking up her knickers and stepping into them. “On a regimen.”

            Severus was already in his trousers, adjusting the belt in its loops and reaching for his white undershirt when she began to slide her arms into the straps of her bra. They stood near enough to one another that it might have been awkward had they not just been having sex, essentially for money, on the table across the room. He said nothing for a long moment as he slipped into the long sleeves of his button down shirt and began to fiddle with the cuffs. “Indeed.”

            Hermione silently rolled her eyes and then stepped into the skirt she had worn that day, figuring it would be easier to take on and off, but that was before she had been presented with the bathrobe from George. “Why do you bother dressing fully back up? He’s only going to have us get naked again after dinner,” she found herself saying without thinking; amazed at how quickly Severus had done up all of his shirt’s buttons and moved onto his frock coat.

            He didn’t answer her, unless the slight dismissive wave of his hand was meant to serve as an answer. She sighed, though quietly, and continued to dress. He was nearly to the top of the stairs at the back of the workshop by the time she’d slipped back into her sandals. Scurrying to catch up with him she came up behind him just as he muttered the password and slipped into George’s flat. Hermione was not surprised to find the place looking absolutely disastrous as she entered on Severus’ heels.

            “George, we’ve finished,” she called, wondering if he had gone out to retrieve their dinner or if he was simply in another room and intending to have it ordered in. There was no response from anywhere inside of the flat. It occurred to her that she had never actually been up inside George’s flat. Not while he and Fred had shared it and certainly not since. And despite the fact that it was in a state of perpetual chaos, it was rather roomy and seemingly nice. The room they appeared to be in was a sitting room of sorts, buried beneath copious amounts of clothes, magazines and Merlin knew what else was a sofa, and opposite it two chairs, one on either side. A coffee table, covered completely by various bottles and soda cans, coffee cups, and tea mugs, rested in front of the sofa between it and the hearth, which looked as if it hadn’t ever been lit.

            Hermione took a moment to gaze around. Up off to the side of the sitting room was a half wall that led into the kitchen with a small table and two chairs. Dishes were piled nearly a mile high in the sink and she rolled her eyes. Men could clearly not be left to live on their own, at the very least, not Weasley men. Alongside the kitchen there was a door, presumably the one that led out into the main staircase of the shop. On the opposite side of the sitting room was a narrow hallway lined with two doors on either side and one at the end. All five doors were closed. If George was within he apparently wasn’t coming out.

            She opened her mouth to call again, only to be thwarted before she could be properly silenced, by Severus’ raised hand, his finger gesturing to the green ledger book that rested atop the counter ledge of the kitchen’s half-wall. On top of the ledger was a piece of parchment, a note scribbled in George’s chicken scratch.

            “Right,” she said and retrieved the note. Her eyes scanned the inky letters and she shrugged. “He’s gone to fetch food from The Leaky Cauldron, make ourselves comfortable, he’ll be back in a bit.” Hermione frowned. As if it weren’t awkward enough, how on earth were they to make themselves comfortable in the hovel of a flat he called home? She sighed. “Right then,” and after a moment’s decision she drew her wand.

            If there was one thing she was good at it was cleaning spells. With several rapid flicks of her wrist various beams of light began to shoot across the sitting room. Piles of clothes were levitating up into the air, shirts began to fold themselves while a dustbin and broom materialized from nowhere and began to sweep the floor. She grinned as bottles and cans made their way into the bin and mugs of all shapes and sizes zoomed toward the sink in the kitchen. Within moments the sitting room as tidy and suitable for sitting in. The clothes were all folded and stacked neatly in one arm chair and the papers and various books were now stacked neatly in the other, freeing up the sofa.

            In hindsight it would have done her better to have cleared the chairs rather than the sofa, but she would make do, as she came to sit down as close to the right arm of the sofa as possible. “Make ourselves at home,” she said with a shrug, glancing up at Severus, waiting to see if he would join her or not.

            Much to her surprise, after only a moment’s silent debate, Severus did move around to the sofa and sit down beside her, though with practically a full cushion between them for as close to the left arm as he sat. Hermione hoped that George would return sooner rather than later as she could already feel the awkward tension mounting between them as the silence grew. Feeling nervous she glanced about the room. “Are you chilled, should I light the fire?”

            He shook his head, reserving his words, and then continued to gaze forward at the empty hearth.

            “Should I put a kettle—” she frowned, wondering if she could even begin to find a kettle in the menagerie that George called a kitchen. “Should I make us some tea?”

            Severus snorted. “I doubt very much Mr. Weasley has the proper instruments for making tea, Miss Granger, and even if he did I do not find myself fancying having a cuppa from anything in that landfill.”

            Hermione rolled her eyes, feeling slightly bolder, more annoyed and less awkward in that moment. “Suit yourself,” she said and then stood from the sofa, moving into the filthy kitchen. While it was far too great a task to exhaust herself with, she did take up the bare minimum, rearranging dishes in the sink so that she could see what was available. And although she found no kettle she did find a small pot suitable for boiling water. With several good scourgifying charms she set the pot to rights on the stove top and then began to rummage around in his cupboards, looking for tea. After a thorough scavenge she did manage to find a tin of English Breakfast and although she preferred non-caffeinated at night, it would have to do.

            Scourgifying one of the mugs she transfigured a spoon into a makeshift infuser, as the task for finding his actual infuser was far too daunting, and filled it generously with the loose leaf tea. With the water nearly boiled she poured the pot into the mug and was quite pleased with herself as she returned to the sofa, steaming cup in hand. There was even a space on which to set it on the coffee table in front of her. “There,” she said aloud for no one’s benefit but her own. “Are you sure you don’t want a cup?”

            “I’m fine, Miss Granger,” he said, sounding slightly annoyed.

            “Can you not?” she asked after a moment, letting her tea stand so that it could steep properly. “It seems rather foolish, considering the line of work we’re doing, the proper titles…” She didn’t look at him as she spoke, but what she said was no less true for it. It seemed beyond foolish for her to continue referring to her as Miss, though she couldn’t quite place why it bothered her so. Perhaps because the last time he had called her ‘Miss’ she had still been a student in his tutelage, and it reminded her of being his intellectual subordinate. Though she realized, much to her chagrin, that in the arena of sex she was still very much his intellectual subordinate, having limited knowledge and experience on the subject.

            Severus did not answer her, merely continued to stare off into the empty hearth. This only unnerved her a little. He had never been a man of words, or at least not if he could help it. Even when she’d sought him out in his home their conversation had not been so idle as to be familiar, him divulging very little. Her lips pinched slightly into a frown as she mulled that evening over in her head; so close to once again being satisfied but he’d literally turned her out without a second thought on the matter.

            “Do you reckon he’ll keep us past midnight?” she asked. “I mean I don’t suppose it matters if he does, it’s not like either one of us really has anything to do in the morning,” she paused and then flushed slightly. “Although I suppose I shouldn’t say that, I rightly have no idea what it is you do when you are not here…stay at Spinner’s End, I imagine—”

            “Can you not?” he said, mimicking her request from before. “It seems rather foolish for you to continue trying to hold a conversation with someone who clearly does not wish to converse,” he paused and then added with a slight smirk, “Miss Granger.”

            Hermione narrowed her eyes in his direction as she leaned forward and picked up her teacup, removing the infuser and banishing it to the kitchen with a forceful flick of her wrist. A bit too forceful for the infuser smashed against the kitchen wall sending a clump of sodden hot tea leaves exploding to the floor. She sighed, though she doubted very much that George would notice upon his return. “Sorry was just trying to get comfortable,” she muttered and then picked up the mug of tea and took a swallow.

            “Yes, well your incessant chatter makes no one comfortable; in fact it does quite the opposite.”

            “How can talking make you not comfortable?” she protested.

            This earned her a well-practiced roll of his eyes. “Miss Granger, please…” he said and then turned his head to face her. “I do not habitually partake in small talk and I’ve no intention of starting now…there is no need to fill every blessed moment of blissful silence with your inane rambling.”

            She wasn’t sure whether to be embarrassed or enraged. On one hand she realized that she had sort of been rambling because the silence between them had mounted into a palpable tension, and that made her squirm inside. On the other hand, she was sick of being insulted by him, though she wasn’t quite sure how exactly to handle the dilemma. After a moment of letting her options drift back and forth inside her head, she attempted a new approach. “How long before you think he’ll finish with us and we’ll both find ourselves out of work once more?”

            Severus gave an audible sigh. “If it’s not prattling its questions…they never end with you, do they, Miss Granger?” he asked, his eyes, for the first time that she noticed, looking slightly weary. “I’ve no idea, we will find out when we find out.”

            “Doesn’t it worry you that—”

            “It worries me that George Weasley may never return this evening and I shall be stuck in his flat listening to your never-ending onslaught of questions and unflappable attempt at making conversation.”

            “There’s no need to be rude,” she paused and then carefully poised her lips to speak. “Severus.”

            If it caught him off-guard he didn’t let it show, not even for a moment. He held her gaze, watching her, analyzing her, reading her. She returned his stare simply keeping her eyes level, trying not to feel extremely uncomfortable under his scrutiny. It was just like her days back in Potions, only she was completely out of her element in their current predicament. And after just a moment she shied away from their impromptu staring contest, missing entirely the triumphant sneer of victory that crossed his lips before he settled into contentedly gazing into the empty hearth once more.

            “I’ve brought chips, shakes and bacon butties with rocket and cheese,” said George, sweeping in through the door near the kitchen, a large brown paper bag tucked under one arm, three Styrofoam cups balanced in the other. “Hermione, give me a hand, would you?” he said, kicking the door shut with his foot. She was all too eager to shoot up from the sofa and move over to him. “Now I don’t know where we’re going to—”

            “I’ve tidied up a bit in the sitting room, the coffee table is clear, we can eat there,” she said with a soft smile.

            “Thanks,” George said, quickly bringing the bag over after Hermione had taken two of the shakes from his other hand. “Um, and thanks for tidying up, just don’t have much time these days,” he said with a shrug and then sat down on the floor with his back facing the hearth. Unpacking the bag he doled out three containers of hot chips doused in vinegar, and then handed out enormous sandwiches. Hermione, who had been particularly hungry, looked grateful. George wasted no time in tucking into his dinner. “I figured after we eat we can head back down, give the Glow-in-the-Dark Gryffindor a go, and then I’ve got some fantasy panties we can have a play with, and maybe have a look at the paddles if you’re both up for it.”

            “Paddles?” Hermione said, sounding nervous, feeling that telltale warmth flood her cheeks, knowing full well she was blushing.

            “Yeah, Fred has paddles with a leather face…but designed— it’s hard to explain, it’ll be easier to show you once we get back down in the workshop.” He stuffed a handful of chips into his mouth and practically swallowed them whole. “No problems with the Hufflepuff Happy, then?”

            “It broke,” Severus said simply, taking a rather small bite from his sandwich, chewing thoroughly before swallowing. “Upon release,” he added. “I’ve administered a preventative to Miss Granger, and the condom has been disposed of.”

            George frowned. “Bollocks, I was hoping I wouldn’t have to rework it.”

            Severus merely shrugged. “Condoms do break, Mr. Weasley. It’s not as if it broke upon my putting it on, or even midway through. Occasionally the force of ejaculate can be too much for the rubber tip of a condom, these things do happen.”

            Hermione practically choked on the chocolate shake that was mostly way too thick for the straw she was currently sucking on. Always so frigid and reserved, dissecting the incident as if he were filing a report. It made her spine tingle in all the wrong ways. But tried to brush it off, focusing instead on the lovely sandwich before her. It was nice to have pub food, a rare treat but certainly much better than what she’d been living on, though she’d never admit that aloud.

            George hopped up from the floor and fetched his ledger, once again taking to scribbling notes in it. After a few page flips and a few more scribbles he returned to their makeshift dinner table and proceeded to consume the rest of his dinner with great speed. He took to reading through the ledger, presumably investigating products they had not yet tried, waiting for them to finish. Severus finished first, Hermione only a few chips behind, though she noted that he did not touch his shake.

            “Alright if you guys are ready, we can head back down,” he said, standing up and moving toward the workshop door. He made no attempt to clear the table and it was more than apparent to Hermione exactly how his sitting room had ended in such disarray in the first place. She stood from the sofa and stared at Severus for a moment.

            “After you, Miss Granger,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest, waiting for her to follow George back down into the workshop for their late night testing session.

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Weasley's Wizard Wheezes