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
- 4
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- 6
A/N: Thank you all for the feedback! Mary- it's ironic that you mention their living arrangement, as that's going to come to light in the chapter after this one, but for the moment you'll have to be content with how things end up. I've toyed around with the idea of how to get the two of them under the same roof, to increase the awkward value by tenfold and I've nearly got it. Everyone else- thank you so much for the reviews! Glad to know you all are enjoying it! Just wait till you see how these fantasy panties play out!

Sex in total darkness had been a bit more than she’d bargained for. Naturally to see if the Glow-in-the-Dark Gryffindor model of the condom worked properly George had doused the lights. And not only had he doused them but he’d stolen them entirely. She didn’t want to know how he’d convinced Ron to let him borrow the Deluminator, but it certainly had plunged them into abject darkness faster than she could have properly protested. Hermione had banged her backside trying to get up onto the table and the faint glow from the condom was barely there. She found herself closing her eyes when he began to fuck her, the sight of being able to see nothing but a faint green glow sliding in and out of the darkness making her feel disoriented. He was rougher, somehow; the pitch black lack of light in the workshop making him feel different than he had before. Or perhaps she was just confused because her senses were jumbled. Either way it had been less than pleasant. It hadn’t hurt or been uncomfortable, just extremely awkward.

                When he’d finished inside of her, this time without the condom breaking, she sighed quietly; relieved that it was over. And when George returned the lights to the workshop she sat up abruptly and pulled her robe around her, keeping herself covered as Severus made comments about how piss-poor the glow effect was and how it was otherwise the same as any standard non-lubricated condom. George seemed to drink in every comment with extreme interest, hanging on Severus’ every word as he continued to scribble frantically in the ledger.

                As George rose from the stool and moved over to the large chest of drawers he began to rummage through them. She found that her eyes had wandered absently over to Severus, who was standing with his back to her, now donned in the terrycloth robe. It was a full moment before she realized she’d been staring and Hermione quickly averted her eyes down into her lap, though he hadn’t noticed as he’d been looking at George. She didn’t have time to dwell on why she’d been staring when George came over to the work table carrying a large circular hatbox. It was white with racy red and purple stripes running all over it and Hermione could already feel her stomach doing flipflops as she tried not to think about the plethora of potential products that could be inside.

                “Now these…” George said as he carefully wiggled the lid, which seemed to be firmly attached to the box. “There’s a good handful of things in here…all designed for women,” he said with a bit of a shrug, tugging harder until the lid came off completely. “Fred had this brilliant idea that lingerie should be sexy, or maybe not so sexy in some cases…” he said lifting what could only be described as a garish electric yellow flower attached to strings from the box. “But sexy and fun,” he said and then grinned a bit at Hermione.

                She took a moment to glance into the hat box. There was an assortment of various, for lack of a better word, things, and it seemed a bit much to take in all at once. Things that looked like clothes and various materials, and things that did not in any way shape or form resemble materials or clothes, and then there were smaller boxes and a few cans that appeared to have spray nozzles attached to their tops. Her brow furrowed as she reached into the box and picked up one of the spray cans. “Cloudy?” she said, turning the can around in her hands.

                George, who had pulled his stool over to where she sat atop the table, was now flipping through the ledger, trying to find a product description that matched the pale blue and white can she held in her hands. “Oh, yes…Cloudy Panties…a part of the Fantasy Panties: Spray Line,” he said.

                “Fantasy Panties Spray Line?” Both Hermione’s voice and Severus’s voice were once again working in unison.

                “Says here…simply shake can, and spray on panties,” George frowned re-reading the note in the ledger. “Spray on panties?” For a moment he seemed thoroughly perplexed by the notion but as the idea seemed to settle in his brain a smile grew across his lips. “Oh, Merlin, this has loads of potential…if it works.” Reaching forward he took the can from Hermione’s hand and began to shake it rapidly up and down. “Shrug out of your robe and hop down off the table. Stand with your legs a bit a part, we’re going to give this a go,” he said as he continued to shake the can.

                Her mind was willfully refusing to cooperate but her body seemed to have heard him when he spoke for she found herself on her feet, shrugging out of her robe as he’d said. She was standing with her backside resting gently against the table but after a moment she stepped forward and spread her legs. Hermione worried the petal of her lower lip between her teeth; there was something unsettling about knickers that came from a spray can. She closed her eyes, a subtle nod in George’s direction to let him know she was ready.

                Tossing the can to Severus, George leaned back slightly on his stool and then picked up his quill pen. Poised at the ready to begin scratching into the ledger he failed to notice Severus roll his eyes as he caught the well-shaken novelty can. Still in his robes, Severus moved toward Hermione and then adjusted the can in his hand, finger on the nozzle as he brought it close to her thighs. Depressing the nozzle filled the room with the terrible hiss that a spray can often makes and at first the scent of heavy rain seemed to overwhelm them all; Hermione giving way to a slight coughing fit.

                Meticulous sweeps of his arm whilst holding down the spray nozzle eventually found him standing at her side and bending down to spray between her legs, as if drawing a pair of knickers over her body with the stream of thick white mist that was being emitted. He set the can down and stepped back, gazing at her. At first it appeared as if the can had done little more than coat Hermione’s skin with a filmy white substance that seemed to shine in the workshop light. But after a moment the film began to glisten.

                Hermione gasped, wriggling a bit in surprise as she felt the wet film suddenly brushing around her skin as if it were moving of its own free will. “What in Merlin’s—” she inhaled sharply as a shiver crept up her spine. It was impossible to describe; the sensation of fluffy yet chilly airy nothingness was sweeping over her skin. Around her legs, curving down over her buttocks and up between her thighs. Her wide eyes gazed down her body and she gasped. No longer was she covered in a filmy white liquid but was indeed sporting what looked like a pair of panties comprised of fluffy opaque white clouds.

                Severus, who had watched the transformation in silence, was now letting his eyes rake over the way the strange cloud-like substance curved around her figure as if it were fitted for her skin. George, all the while, watched on in fascination, scribbling so fast that he spilled his pot of ink. “How do they feel?” he asked.

                She was too gob smacked to respond. It still felt as if someone were running a cottony breeze against her privates and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it, let alone how to describe it. Hermione held very still not sure if moving in them was an option, her eyes still trying to take in exactly what she was seeing. How could she be wearing panties made of clouds?

                It was Severus who caused her to shriek; a startled squeak of surprise as he placed his hand against her mound, his palm and fingers passing right through the fluffy whiteness of the clouds. As he pulled his hand back he noticed that there was now a gap between both sides of the cloud. “Purely novel, they would serve absolutely no functional purpose and they don’t feel like anything,” he said. “A chill I suppose, slightly cooler than the room’s air…” Severus trailed off and then moved his hand forward, once again cupping her mound. Although it made her jump, she bit down on her lower lip to keep from crying out once more. “And easily destroyed,” he added, sweeping his hand back and forth as if brushing them away.

                The clouds, if they could be called that, blew away from his hands as he shooed them, rendering Hermione’s sex exposed. It was peculiar how the clouds that covered her backside remained. But she hadn’t time to really process it as she heard George giving Severus instructions to spray her once more and to cover her breasts as well. She wasn’t prepared for the chilly blast of white mist that shot forth from the can as he began to once more coat the front of her lower regions, as if reapplying a panty-shaped airbrushed tattoo. Her nipples stiffened instantly as he drew the can up and began to spray her breasts.

                In just moments Hermione’s lady parts were completely covered by the fluffy white clouds. She felt absurd and terribly exposed despite being hidden. “Erm…”

                “I want you to walk about a bit, Hermione, just a little back and forth, you don’t have to be on the catwalk for us or anything, I’m just keen to see if they stay in place with regular body movement.”

                She nodded her head, feeling that breezy chill against her sex and it made her shiver. Hermione tried not to notice Severus’ eyes upon her as she took a tentative step forward. Baby steps, her feet barely apart from one another, at first. But then larger steps, not strides, but average, albeit slow, walking steps, along the length of the work table, over to where George sat and back. “Feels like it’s staying…” she said and then turned curious eyes to her partner.

                Severus nodded. “You’re leaving a trail of wispy white cloud in your wake from your backside but I don’t see any major gaps.” All the while George was making frenetic notes in the ledger, having righted the pot of ink from the desk, waving one hand at them. “You’ll have to be a bit more verbal, Mr. Weasley, I’ve yet to fully learn the subtle language of hand waving.”

                It took all Hermione had not to snort at the dry sarcastic quip that leapt from his tongue. Despite the situation she found that his peculiar sense of deadpan humor rather appealed to her, though she kept silent on the matter, waiting for George to interpret his gesture aloud.

                “Grab her up and sit her on the table,” he said. “I want to see if it all falls away,” he said without looking up.

                Hermione had mentally prepared herself as she heard George speak so when Severus gripped her hips she didn’t cry out in surprise. His hands were big; though she’d noted that before, and idly in the back of her mind she noted that proportionately they matched his manhood. His palms were warm, or perhaps felt warm because of the chill that the clouds created against her skin, either way the heat sent little jolts up through her body and she did her best not to shudder. “It seems like the clouds have vanished where he’s touched me, but are otherwise still in place.”

                “Severus, go on and lay her back and give her breasts a play…see if it’s doable for mouth action.”

                This made Hermione’s blood run hot and cold all at once but there was no time to think on it or prepare for it as she felt him pushing her backward just enough to angle her somewhat, her forearms catching her body instinctively so she was propped up on the table. She forced her eyes closed as he bowed his head inward toward her chest and at once every nerve in her body was standing on end. That queer intimacy that was required of such an act; yet so clinically executed as the delicate strands of his hair brushed through the clouds against her skin, she couldn’t help but quiver.

                His nose brushed against the top swell of her breast, his face now obscured by the shifting and dissipating clouds. But even without being able to properly see him she felt his lips and his tongue mouthing gently against the taut pearl of her nipple. With his lips at her right breast she all but moaned when she felt his hand brush against her left breast, fingers beginning to tweak her left nipple ever so gently. She was quickly getting lost in the dual sensation of his pleasurable ministrations, her body heating intensely. But as readily as he’d begun was as abruptly as he stopped, pulling both hand and face back from her, leaving her with a pained expression of frustration etched into her features. Hermione bowed her head with haste, not wanting him or George to notice how terribly horny the encounter had once again made her, even more so that he had once again begun to stimulate her only to stop completely.

                “There isn’t a taste, which I presume to be a good thing, and the clouds, despite being wispy and slightly chilled seem to dissolve the moment they come into contact with my face or hand.” Severus wrapped his fingers around her wrist, pulling it upward toward her chest, causing her to pitch awkwardly to one side. His fingers guided her hand to touch her own breast and for that instant her body was completely rigid. But as he began to speak he released her hand. “Seems to do the same when she touches herself as well.”

                “Right…” George hadn’t bothered to look up from the ledger, still furiously penning notes onto the paper. “Can you mange to give her a quick poke?” he asked nonchalantly. “No need to have a full on fuck, I’m just curious if you can stand the sensation— and you can spray some more before you do.”

                Hermione’s body twitched at the prospect of having a quick poke. Did he seriously mean for Severus Snape to just thrust himself into her for a moment or so as if such a thing were a common casual occurrence? It was one thing to test a condom, as they’d done four times before, but what he was now asking was something entirely different. But her opportunity to protest aloud shattered as she watched Severus open the lapels of his robe, one hand going down to stroke his cock. He was limp, though not entirely, and she noted with a terrified fascination that it only took him a few good rough tugs with his eyes closed to get himself erect.

                “Scoot forward,” he said, one hand on his cock, the other curling a beckoning finger at her. She shifted her body forward, feeling the clouds swirl all around as she spread her legs. Severus plucked up the spray can and carefully aimed it over her sex, covering her once more with the mist. He waited for the film to become clouds and then he leaned forward. “Merlin…” he hissed, unable to control himself as his cock was met with the chilling but thrilling sensation of clouds whirling around it. He thrust forward into her, finding her entrance without issue, another soft moan dying in the back of his throat as he began to pull himself out, sliding in once more; a gentle rhythmic fuck, each thrust punctuated by a strangled noise.

                “Well?” George asked, though Severus had not yet stopped fucking her through her cloud knickers.

                “It’s a mingled sensation,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “The clouds brush out of the way but then cling around….and it feels like tiny fluffy hands blowing air and gently tugging all at once.”

                It was certainly the most verbal she’d heard him be since they started. And for a moment Hermione wondered if this little experiment would cause him to lose control completely; if he would suddenly take to fucking her with wild abandon and ravish her like a savage man whose carnal needs burned so intensely that he could not control himself. But that fleeting notion was quickly dismissed after a few more thrusts had him pulling out of her entirely and stepping back. For the first time in all her years of having seen the man he seemed unsteady in his gait, his stance wobbling for just a moment as he drew his robe tightly around him.

                Had she not been so hot and bothered by the brief penetration, she would have smirked. Hermione sat up and then slid down from the table. It took her a moment to retrieve her robe but once she was wrapped in it she shuffled innocently over toward George, posing a rather devious question. “Since these aren’t fitted, per say, do you think I ought to spray a bit on Severus just to see if it covers a man equally as well?” she asked. Before George could counter her question with any sort of logic she continued with a bout of her own. “I mean what with men having slightly different body chemistries and hormones…it would be useful to know if you could easily double your marketable audience with this product.” He seemed to like this idea and nodded his approval. Her mind was playing with mischief, knowing full well that it was a powder keg and in her hand she was about to strike a match. “Severus,” she said, walking over to him, taking up the can from the table.

                He narrowed his eyes at her and then rolled them. “You cannot mean that you wish to have me cover you once more, Miss Granger,” he said. Any traces of the shock the sensation had put him in had vanished and he seemed once more his stoic, albeit surly, self.

                It was Hermione’s turn to wear the subtle smirk as she began to shake the can. “George thinks it would be a good idea to give it a test run on you, just to see if he can double his marketable target audience,” she said in a nonchalant tone, feigning complete innocence. She was sure he could see right through it but she didn’t care. After watching him react the way he had to just feeling the cloud like substance around her was enough to make her want to force his hand in the matter. He’d been so reserved and so clinical about every damn step of the process up to that point that witnessing him crumble and crack at the seams had been maddeningly delightful.

                “Be that as it may, Miss Granger, clouds in my crotch, I shall abstain,” he said and kept his arms crossed over his chest. “Courteously,” he added for good measure and then cast a glance over to George. But if the redhead had any intentions of stopping Hermione from her current trajectory he made no indication and this annoyed Severus above all. After a moment of standing like a statue, refusing to budge, he rolled his eyes and then heaved a rather audible and severely annoyed sigh. “If you must,” he muttered as he slipped out of his robes.

                She wasn’t sure what had possessed her to be so spiteful; even her own amusement in that moment did not seem to calm her nerves that felt on edge as she approached him. Though he wasn’t as raging hard as he had been just moments before, he was by no means flaccid. Hermione felt her fingers tremble as she began to press down on the nozzle, the white mist spraying out in his general direction. The sharp intake of his breath was the only sound aside from the hiss of the can as she moved the can back and forth, slowly covering his erect manhood in the white film.

                Hermione traced a line around the side of his hip, slowly moving to stand beside him and then behind him, pausing as she drew the line from the other side of his hip; a bit like the connecting strings of a g-string thong. The tiniest of smirks crossed her lips as she drew the can down the delicate line that split his cheeks. She was surprised as she watched his body stiffen, his cheeks clenching firmly as she sprayed between his legs. Curious indeed, but she made no comment. Satisfied with her little experiment she placed the can back on the table and waited to see the clouds form around his privates. As she had expected they’d behaved as they had when he had sprayed them on her; forming puffy white softness in the loosely drawn shape of a man’s g-string thong.

                “That actually covers a good deal better than I thought it would given that he’s erect.” George’s idle comment stole her attention though she didn’t turn her eyes to face him, far too fascinated by the way the bulge of his manhood pressed against the cloud as if they were cotton fabric rather than wispy ether. “How does it feel?”

                “As it felt before,” Severus was speaking but his voice was clipped, his teeth clenched shut. “Breezy and chilly.” It was impossible to discern whether or not the tension in his tone was from pleasure or discomfort, but given his previous reaction when he’d began to fuck her through the clouds, Hermione was prone to believe that it was pleasure. Pleasure that he was desperately fighting against. This pleased her a great deal as she chuckled inside her mind.

                “Anything you’d like me to test, George?” Though the moment she’d said it she wished she hadn’t. No doubt George would have her repeat a similar series of actions, perhaps going so far as to have her use her mouth down there. This notion terrified her. The concept was not unknown to her but in theory only. She had never in her life been given cause to use her mouth for oral sex, the few flimsy movements with her tongue when they had been testing the tongue tinglers aside. She cast nervous eyes at Severus but found that his eyes were closed, the effort of restraining himself effecting him a great deal more than she’d realized.

                “Um, yeah, I’m curious to see if you think it has a taste or what have you, drop down and just brush your lips through it, see how it goes.”

                Those words shot through her and chilled her ten times more than the brisk air of the clouds. And they seemed to cause Severus a great deal of consternation as she watched his body twitch. But she was a determined witch, after all they were working. And even if her little experiment meant solely to tease him had backfired a bit in her face, she wasn’t about to let that affect her performance. “Right,” her voice was a whisper as she slowly sank down onto her knees. The floor was hardly comfortable, her knees immediately wishing that she had sought out a cushion of some sort, but the comfort of her knees was the farthest thing from her mind.

                Hermione slowly leaned her head forward, face to face with his cloud covered erection. At least when she’d worked with the tongue tinglers he had been mostly limp. This was uncharted territory and already she could feel the effect it was having on her body. Aside from making her tremble like a leaf in a storm, which she was failing miserably at hiding, she could feel her thighs sticking together with the damp heat that was now leaking from her womanhood. And she noticed his scent. Despite the airy fresh smell of the clouds there was something wafting into her nostrils that was not at all unpleasant. It was heady and musky and distinctly masculine; impossible to place save for saying that it smelled like him. Him and sex.

                Closing her eyes, she leaned her lips forward, greeted immediately with the airy chill and wispy breeze of the clouds as she pushed her way through and parted her mouth. Her lips pressed against his erect shaft, just beneath the head, feeling the satiny warmth of his flesh for the first time in its fully aroused state. It had not felt anything like this when she’d tongued him before; and she couldn’t recall if there had been a taste as she’d been too preoccupied with the buzzing sensations in her tongue. But this was some sort of cruel heaven; a slightly salty warm taste that was full of that musky headiness that she had smelled, teasing and tantalizing her to dare and taste more.

                And she would have had it not been for the firm fingers that were curled tightly around her shoulder. “And?” the voice belonged to Severus, though it sounded coarse; the strain more than evident.

                Hermione’s lips slowly pulled back from his shaft, inhaling little bits of the clouds as she leaned back entirely and then stood up. “No taste though that chill is quite intense. I don’t know how to describe it. It’s not a bad thing, just rather intense,” she said thoughtfully.

                Severus had swiveled his hips a bit and was swatting at his backside, clouds dissipating into nothingness as he did. And within seconds he was once again wrapped securely in his robe. It made Hermione wonder if all interactions with his erection and her mouth would cause him to lose such control or if had just been the chilled sensation of that product. Curiouser and curiouser indeed. But before she could ponder further on the matter her thoughts were called to attention by the sound of George’s voice.

                “That’s actually sort of brilliant…can you imagine how much fun that could be for cos play? Or general fantasy play?” he asked, his voice so full of elation one would think he had discovered a cure for Lycanthropy. Red ink was everywhere; the pages of the ledger, the desk upon which he wrote, his hands, his shirt, even little splatters blending with the freckles on his face. “There are three other spray cans— let’s give them a go while we’re at it, yeah?” he said looking hopeful.

                Though it was getting late, Hermione imagined that it was hardly past ten, they’d broke for dinner a bit early, and she wasn’t the least bit tired after that encounter. And George had said that he’d wanted them to work late, though she wasn’t sure exactly how late he meant, so she didn’t mind. Nodding her head in agreement she peered down into the hat box and plucked up a solid green spray can. “Garden of Eden,” she said turning it over in her hands, reading the tiny gold letters that were printed on the metal.

                Severus said nothing but remained in his robes, eyeing them both warily as he watched George begin to flip through the ledger once more. It didn’t take him long to find the entry that matched the product she held. Hermione listened attentively as George read out what little was described about the product in Fred’s notes.

                “Says, Fantasy Panties: Spray Line, Garden of Eden spray panties, shake can well before using and simply spray on panties for your own personal Garden of Eden.” He shrugged his shoulders and then looked at Hermione, who was handing the can to Severus and slipping out of her robe. She draped it across the table and stood naked before him, legs spread slightly. “Alright, let’s see what brother Fred had in mind.”

                The spray was not as cold as the clouds had been, and it was mostly green with flecks of gold, orange, and pink mingled in. Hermione stood very still as he traced the familiar pattern around her hips, around her buttocks, up between her legs and over her mound. “It doesn’t appear to be doing any— oh!” she cried, feeling a sudden rush of movement against her body. The green spray began to shift and morph, changing at a rather rapid rate. Eyes wide with her breath held she watched in awe as twisting vines, climbing ivy and other ferns began to wend their way around her womanhood. Interspersed amid the green were little colored buds that began to bloom; tropical flowers weaving into the greenery and blossoming fully leaving her downstairs covered in a miniature jungle garden of sorts. “Oh my…” she finally exhaled, twisting her head around trying to stare down at her backside.

                Severus paced a circle around her, gazing at the peculiar if lush garden that now served as knickers on her person, his fingers caressing the leaves at the side of her hip. “They feel very real,” he said, inhaling deeply. “And smell very floral.”

                Hermione inhaled as well, noting that she smelled very much like an earthy jungle filled with flowers. Her fingers slid down her body and she touched the petals of a bright pink flower, feeling their delicate silkiness against her hand. “They do feel real,” she murmured, rather surprised at how lovely it looked.

                “Pretty,” George said, giving her a quick glance before returning to the ledger. “Walk a bit.”

                She took a few steps forward, the vines and leaves swishing as she did but everything seemed to stay in its place. “Seems to be alright— oh!” she cried, “Look!” Pointing right at the center of her mound she called attention to the large purple and blue butterfly that she hadn’t previously noticed perching on a twisting vine. Its wings were moving very gently, a subtle flutter as she spread her legs slightly.

                With a visible curiosity in his eyes, Severus approached her and gently laid his fingers against the vine, sweeping upward and catching the butterfly atop his hand. It rested there for a brief second before fluttering away up into the workshop. Just as the beautiful winged bug got above their heads it vanished in a puff of purplish blue smoke. “Interesting,” he mused.

                “Incredible,” George said. “I wonder if each use produces a butterfly,” he made a note in the ledger. “I think once we test the other two, we can spray this one again, I’m just really curious, can you imagine what that would do to its marketability?”

                “Indeed, Mr. Weasley,” said Severus. “Though its marketability will be none at all if Miss Granger is unable to untangle herself from this Garden of Eden,” he said, his voice once again controlled. The silky baritone no longer quivered and trembled with the difficulty of being restrained.

                “Well see if you can take them off of her like regular panties or if you can just sort of pull them apart,” George suggested.

                Without a word Severus placed both hands on Hermione’s hips just above the vines and leaves, his palms flat against her bare skin. She tried not to think about the delicious jolt of pleasure that shot through her body just at feeling naked flesh on flesh, even if it was just his hands. His very big, warm hands. Forcing herself to keep her eyes open, she stared into his eyes as she began to wriggle his fingers against the ivy leaves as if trying to grasp where the elastic band would have been in a normal pair of panties. Curling his fingers he began to tug at the vines but that only succeeded in making Hermione gasp, dragging some of the flora across her skin in a manner most teasing. “Um…that’s not really getting them off,” she whispered, blushing.

                “I can see that,” he said plainly and then brought his hands over the front of the panties, tugging at the flowers and vines there. A few of the petals broke off in his hands but otherwise the Garden motif remained in place. “Unless there is some trick switch, you may want to include a machete with each can so that man can hack his way through this jungle.”

                George snorted and scratched a note in the ledger. “Maybe just your wand for now, I’ll tweak the formula a bit and see if I can’t come up with something better.”

                “Indeed,” he said and moved to retrieve his wand. Hermione breathed a tiny sigh of relief, both for the fact that she would be able to get out of the flora and that he had not succeeded in rendering her naked. She wasn’t sure if she would have been able to hide her body’s reaction to him as he’d plucked apart the various flowers and leaves. She held still and a simple spell had her standing naked once more.

                “Thanks,” she said, not bothering to put her robe back on as there were still two cans of spray-on panties in the box. He didn’t acknowledge her gratitude but did place his wand on the table in case they would need it for the remaining two spray tests. Hermione plucked out another can, this one a bright purple. “Purple…but no name or writing.”

                “Hrm,” George was flipping through the pages of the ledger, searching and searching. “Well whatever it is he doesn’t seem to have it here, at least not listed with the other Fantasy Panties: Spray Line. There’s one listed that says “Spray Balloons” but then it’s crossed out. And there are little question marks drawn all around it. So maybe this is spray balloons replacement?”

                She didn’t like the sound of that. A mystery product with absolutely no description was a dangerous idea, and the fact that it had been Fred’s idea made it that much more so as a Weasley idea was always a dangerous thing. The apprehensive look on face must have amused Severus as he took the can from her hands and began to shake it.

                “Come, come, Miss Granger, surely your Gryffindor courage isn’t leaving you now?” he said. Although he sounded normal there was the tiniest inkling of smarm in his voice. And she was a bit astonished that he dared to be so bold and cheeky in front of George. Though she supposed for all the attention that the redhead paid he could have been shooting off fireworks from his cock and George still wouldn’t have noticed.

                His hand was nudging her thigh and without thinking she parted them. He began spraying her mound first, the moment the spray hit her skin the air all around her was filled with the strong odor of grapes. “Oh goodness,” she muttered, her mind seeming to race down the tracks with exactly where this product was headed. “This one is not nearly as cold as the other two, though I don’t think anything was as chilly as those clouds,” she said as Severus continued to spray the purple mist over her backside, being a bit more thorough spraying up between her legs. She heard the can being placed back on the table and she sighed softly, waiting to see what would happen. At first it seemed as if nothing was happening. “Maybe this one is a dud. Or unfinished…or just meant to be purple spray-on panties,” she said gazing down at the way the film clung to her skin.

                It did seem a bit like a very sheer pair of painted on panties. “I wonder if it’s meant to be edible,” she mused aloud and immediately wished she hadn’t. But before she could retract her statement she was squeaking in surprise as the film began to bubble. “What’s—oh! Oh my!” she cried, feeling little globes erupt all over her body where she had been sprayed. “Oh they look like—”

                “Grapes,” Severus said. It was true, where there had just a moment before been a thin layer of purple film, there was now thick bunches of luscious juicy purple grapes clinging to her womanhood.

                “Oh they’re— oh,” she frowned, spreading her legs a bit further apart. “They’re a touch awkward between my…erm…” she gestured and then tried shifting again to close her legs a bit. “Shit!” she cried, startled and surprised as several of the little grapes ruptured as they pressed against one another sending a trail of grape juice rushing down the insides of her thighs.

                George chuckled. “Well maybe this one shouldn’t be sprayed on as full round panties, but just a top covering…” he said and then shook his head. “Are they edible?”

                Hermione’s body went rigid, as if she hadn’t been embarrassed enough. Though she supposed he’d already had his tongue between her legs; she figured it couldn’t get much worse. But she was wrong.

                Severus, he kept his face completely neutral, took a step toward her and then without warning gripped her hips, lifting her up into the air. He deposited her atop the stool so that as she stood her grape covered mound was now nearly level with his mouth. Her eyes were wide as she gazed down at him and her whole body was practically shaking hard enough to pitch her off the stool. “I imagine,” Severus started, one hand firmly pressing against her buttocks, grapes squishing beneath his palm against her flesh causing little rivers of grape juice to run down her backside and the backs of her thigh. “That if they are this will be very lucrative for any lover wishing to pay worship or tribute to their partner.” He inhaled slowly, leaning his head very close to her sex. “They smell natural…almost like grapes used in wine making.”

                She could feel her legs trembling, seeing the little orbs of purple jiggling back and forth as the shaking motion reverberated up the length of her thigh. Hermione was forced to bite down on her tongue to keep from shrieking as he pressed his lips forward, digging through the grapes, his lips meeting her netherlips for the briefest of moments. Pulling back he tugged free a few of the ripe purple orbs, crushing them between his lips, the slightest trickle of juice dribbling down from the corner of his mouth. She watched in awe as he swallowed them, the tip of his pink tongue swiping out to catch the juice. And then she nearly fainted forward as he licked his lips. “I would say they are edible. A bit juicier than one might expect a grape to be…more like miniature grape pearls filled with grape juice, but palatable just the same.”

                “Brilliant, that’s just bloody brilliant!” George was enthusiastically writing in the ledger, his eyes never leaving the page and she silently thanked Merlin for that. Hermione gasped but kept herself from crying out when his hands gripped her hips once more and brought her back down to the ground, her eyes now level with his collar bone. “Hermione, did you want to taste one just to see if you have any difference of opinion?”

                But before she could answer one of the shiny purple orbs was being pressed against her lips, Severus having reached out and plucked it from where it covered her mound. Her eyes were wide as she forced her lips apart, sucking the grape and the tip of his finger and thumb into her mouth, juice erupting against her tongue and his fingertips as she did. It was sweet, almost like wine without the alcohol, and slightly chilly. She could feel the juice dribbling down her lips and quickly made to close them but not before he swiped his finger over her lower lip, catching a bit of the juice. She stood dumbstruck as she watched him suck that very same finger between his own lips, licking the juice from his digit before stepping back from her and then turning to George. “Imagine if you could manage white grapes or green grapes for other flavors as red…or if you prefer, purple, may not suit everyone.”

                George seemed to be two steps ahead of him. “Or raspberries, maybe even blackberries— just think of the possibilities! That could be a line all its own. Spray-on Fruit Panties,” he grinned and starting listing out fruits that mimicked grapes.

                Hermione was still shaken by the whole encounter but tried to bring her wits about her. “I imagine a lover could eat them all, or pop them all leaving the woman covered in grape juice, but as I don’t really fancy being covered in grape juice and I’m not sure that Severus should have to eat them all…should I just magic them away?” she asked. They’d already proven that the grapes were easily removable by the little holes in the front of the bunch that covered her mound.

                “Fine, fine,” George said, once again not lifting his head.

                Severus turned back to Hermione and drew up his wand. Two spells, one for vanishing the grapes and one to clear away the sticky grape juice, left her clean and naked once more. “There was only one more can of spray-on, I think,” she said and then picked it up out of the box. This can, much like the grape can was not labeled. But it was covered in soft black fur. She frowned. “I’m not sure I want to know…”

                George, who had glanced up momentarily from his book, stared at the can as if he’d never seen it before, gave a quick shrug and then thumbed through the inky pages. “Oh, yeah, I thought I recalled seeing a note about something like that, right here. Fantasy Panties: Spray Line, Foxy Feline, spelled with three x’s.” The name alone gave Hermione the shudders. “Shake, spray, and meow.” George snorted. “Meow? Oh I’ll bet we’re in for a good one with this one.”

                Once again Hermione found the can being taken from her hand before she could speak. “Given Miss Granger’s previous exposure to fur this should, as you said, Mr. Weasley, be a good one.” At first Hermione’s cheeks flushed red and the sting of embarrassment registered as a backward insult about how very hairy and natural her pubic mound had been before she’d been denuded by one of the tests. But then her cheeks flushed an even darker shade of red as she realized he was alluding to the polyjuice potion incident in her second year. Over a decade ago and she’d all but put the incident behind her, until he’d referenced it just then. How on earth had he known, of course she imagined in her mind that he had been called into the hospital wing to consult on her unfortunate mishap as it had involved a potion gone wrong, and kept her there for weeks.

                She tried to force the blush down out of her cheeks. She couldn’t let his sarcastic wit, regardless of how it stung, get to her. It was like a vicious game. Played silently between them each somehow sparring at the other, she had gotten her digs noting how very uncomfortable the whole business with the clouds had made him, and the slight clenching of his buttocks when she’d drawn near with the mist. And now he was retaliating. Hermione pushed the thoughts from her mind; it was absurd. She was no more malicious than he was intentionally playing such a game. This was simply his every day nature or at least the one she remembered quite well from childhood and she had simply been curious.

                The spray, unlike the others, felt slightly itchy and immediately began to take shape; thick tufts of black fur began to sprout all around where he had sprayed her body. Within moments she was covered the middle of her thighs up to just below her naval in soft, fine, but very thick black fur that was more than long enough to run one’s fingers through. The fur felt far different than the grapes and the garden had, and of course nothing was going to feel quite like the clouds had felt. But there was something strange about it that she couldn’t quite place her finger on.

                “That is fur,” George said nodding his head. “Wow, just…I mean if that’s your sort of thing, that’s one naughty kitty look,” he said. Apparently fur was not George’s thing. His words made her feel subconscious and the horrifically mortifying memories of being covered in fur from her mishap in second year came flooding back into her mind. She did her best to keep this from showing on her face.

                The hand that was now cupping her womanhood startled her but only after he had begun to stroke her. “Indeed,” said Severus, idly threading his fingers into the thicket of fur that covered her womanhood. “It appears to be—”

                “Ow!” she cried as he tugged on a tuft of the fur. “Oh— oh no…no no— no!” her eyes were wide with panic as she ran her own hands down over her backside, tugging at her bum. It felt as if she were pulling her own hair out by the roots. “Oh gods!”

                Severus, who seemed equally as concerned at the discovery, held her still; one hand on her hip the other still between her legs. The finger that prodded at her entrance felt intrusive and she sobbed slightly when he pulled his hand back, realizing at the same moment that he did that the spray-on panties had actually caused her to grow fur. “It would seem, Mr. Weasley, that this product, however well natured as fused the hair follicles and root beds of Miss Granger’s skin…a flawless binding, might I add, but I imagine such a product would be most distasteful.”

                George, who had moved up from his stool to get a closer look, ran his fingers through the fur that was on the side of her hip. “Are you kidding? There’s a freak market out there for this…to have it feel this real? Every person who’s ever fantasized about…” it was George’s turn to blush. “Think about it.”

                “I’d rather not, Mr. Weasley,” said Severus. He frowned gazing at Hermione. “I do hate to be the one to point this out, but it might be worth investigating to see if only adheres on the lower regions.”

                Hermione tried to swallow her sob. He intended to cover more of her body in the spray-on fur. It was second year all over again. She shook her head. “We should wait and see if this comes off first!” she protested a bit louder than she’d intended, the panic in her voice clear as day. “I mean, I just wouldn’t want to be making things more complicated if this is like the Garden of Eden and doesn’t come off as easily as the clouds and the grapes.”

                “Miss Granger may be right,” Severus said nodding at her. “Given the nature in which it so readily adhered itself to her skin, I would suggest manual removal rather than risking magic as there’s no telling what might happen.” Hermione listened carefully and although his suggestion only stood to exacerbate the situation, it seemed genuine. And she was certain that he was also right. The last thing she needed was to have some sort of removal spell backfire in her face and end her up with permanent animal fur covering her most private body parts.

                “Right,” said George. “I’ve got a razor and some lather up in the flat, I think,” he said and nodded heading for the stairs.

                Hermione suppressed another sob. How on earth was she meant to shave herself in such intimate places? She wouldn’t be able to properly reach the entirety of her bum without assistance and the thought mortified her worse than her experience in second year. The treatment plan then had been to let the fur simply shed away and it had taken weeks. She could carry on with a furry downstairs for weeks; the thought made tears nearly spring to her eyes.

                “I would suggest, Miss Granger, that if he does return with a razor and lather that you decline.”

                “But how am I—”

                Severus held up his hand to silence her. “Using a razor may rid you of the fur, but it will not, however, strip the root from the follicle bed leaving you with the chance that it may grow back. And while it is soft it is very thick and I imagine not something you’d be looking forward to dealing with until you find your body is ready to shed it away.”

                She hadn’t thought about the fact that a razor wouldn’t actually be all that effective. Even her legs weren’t 100% smooth after shaving, which was why she waxed. “The depilatory!” she cried. “That um— from the kit that turned my hair different colors— that left me smooth as wax.”

                For a moment Severus considered what she had said and then he nodded. “An astute idea, I do wonder if Mr. Weasley has any remaining.”

                Hermione hadn’t thought about the fact that the bottle they had used in the test run might be the only that he had on hand. This caused her to frown, her brow wrinkling as she did. George was making his way back down the stairs from his flat, holding a razor in one hand. “Got a blade but no lather I’m afraid, though I can probably pop off to the chemist and magic a can out through the window, I think they’re closed by now—”

                “Nevermind that, George, do you have any more of the clear liquid from the Fantasy Feathers Comb & Color set? It worked a bit like a depilatory cream, flawless hair removal.”

                “Oh, Hermione, you’re a genius!” he said and then set the razor blade down on the table behind her, moving over to the large chest of drawers where he’d been storing the various products, tested and untested. “There’s one vial, I don’t know if it’ll be enough but it’s a start, and there are notes on how to make it— in the ledger.” George handed her the little comb and clear vial before flipping through the book. “Yeah, right here, a recipe of sorts, but it looks like it’s easy enough, though I don’t really have any of the ingredients here.

                Hermione was fiddling with fitting the vial into the comb and didn’t notice Severus moving to glance over George’s shoulder. “You may not, but these are standard potion ingredients, Mr. Weasley. All things that I have in my possession at Spinner’s End.” She didn’t hear him speaking those words as she frantically tugged the novelty comb through the fur below her naval, streaking it down to her lips, repeating stroke after stroke as fast as she could until the little canister was empty. It indeed had done the trick with a good deal of tingling, and from her naval down to her mound she was once again bare, a patch of pale white flesh standing out in stark contrast against the rest of her fur covered skin.

                “I need more of it,” she said with a slight whimper.

                “I don’t have any more, Hermione, but Severus says he can make it, that it’s really simple—”

                “I did not say it was simple, Mr. Weasley, I said that the ingredients were basic and that I had them all in my possession at Spinner’s End.”

                Hermione looked horrified. Did he mean to leave her there like that while he went home and attempted to cook up more of the solution? George was picking up the lid to the hat box and putting it back in its place. “I guess we can work on the rest of these tomorrow, it is almost midnight anyhow,” he said with a shrug. Having been so caught up in trying to rid herself of the fur she had missed the portion of the conversation where Severus had said they were done testing for the night as he would be needing to take her back to his house at Spinner’s End in an attempt to rectify the problem.

                So when he began to dress, and then finished dressing and turned to stare at her she was dumbfounded. “Well, Miss Granger, let’s go.”

                “Go?” she said, her voice squeaking up much higher than usual.

                “Unless you intend to stay here all night. Get dressed so that we can get going,” Severus crossed his arms over his chest, looking a bit more than impatient. “Unless you’d prefer to apparate to Spinner’s End alone?”

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