Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Weasley's Wizard Wheezes	By : CryingCinderella Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 131977 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 30
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor do I make any money from writing these stories.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
A/N: Thank you all so much for your continued support! This chapter is especially long to make up for the fact that this upcoming week is going to be incredibly busy so there may not be another update until after the weekend. But I do hope you enjoy it! Your reviews are great feedback and I really really appreciate it. Magicwords- thanks for the suggestion about the dual sensation on the D2! And your compliment about my non-head-hopping humbles me!! I hope I keep it up! Also- this chapter revisits the D2 so there will be a bit more anal sex, and a little bit of anilingus near the end of the workshop scene with another new product. So if those aren’t your forte, I apologize. But we get some regular sex and some fun with silks in here too! Love hearing your feedback!

                The night was long but the morning was longer. Waking up on the couch again with a stiff neck had made her less than pleasant when she’d finally roused herself from slumber. She hadn’t bothered with a shower, afraid that she might incense him over being found in the tub when he was trying to use it, and more afraid that they would have another awkward bathroom encounter. There was something terribly unsettling about being half-naked around him despite the fact that she was fully naked with him when they worked together in George’s workshop. She hadn’t even dared to peak into the fridge, not wanting to be intrusive. There would be time to discuss common room type rules later. Hermione hadn’t thought to leave a note upon her departure but figured that it wasn’t necessary as he didn’t seem overly thrilled with her presence in the first place.

                Her first apparation lead her to Diagon Alley, the Mecca of wizarding shops. She wasn’t really sure what she intended to purchase, other than a quick spot of tea and a bit of breakfast, but she did have a few nights worth of payments now inside her enchanted purse. She supposed the first thing of note would have to be a bed. Hermione was determined to remain frugal only buying what was absolutely necessary so that she could start saving money for a flat of her own, even if it was a dingy room over The Leaky Cauldron as she imagined living with Severus Snape would not be tolerable for long. Or at the very least he wouldn’t tolerate it for long. She tried not to dwell on the matter as she sipped her tea and made her way down the long winding alley filled with various shops.

                Pausing outside of Wiseacre’s Wizarding Equipment she took a moment and sifted through her purse. Four nights of payment meant she was currently in possession of 120 galleons, or had been until she’d spent two on tea and yogurt. But with 118 galleons she could certainly purchase a good deal of things that she would need for living in the house at Spinner’s End. She already had her school steamer trunk kept at Ginny’s, and could pick that up before heading to work later in the evening, and she supposed if she asked Molly there was probably furniture simply gathering dust in the attic at The Burrow. But she knew she would need a bed. She wondered how expensive beds were given that she had never had to purchase one before.

                Hermione glanced through the large window of Wiseacre’s and after a moment decided that while they had a good many things a mattress, box spring and frame was not one of them. She turned her head left and then right looking further down the alley away from the more familiar shops and stalls. Wandering into the less traveled section of Diagon Alley she stopped in front of Flawtog and Flilwater’s Fine Furnishings, smiling as she gazed up at the antique wooden signs. She hoped they weren’t too fine lest she wouldn’t be able to afford them. Ducking into the shop she was immediately greeted by a tall thin salesman who looked more than eager to be assisting her.

                “Looking for bedding, you say?”

                “Well, a bed, actually, though I may browse your selection of bedding after I’ve selected a bed,” she told him, following him through rooms of furniture. There were indeed some very nice, and very strange, pieces of furniture scattered about the large shop, which was much larger on the interior than the exterior led on. Though this was often the case with most wizarding shops, Hermione never ceased to be amazed with it. She followed the salesman back into an enormous room filled with nothing but beds of every shape and size, some looking rather ordinary and some looking quite extraordinary with everything one could imagine in-between. It took her a moment just to take it all in. “We have quite a thorough selection, as you can see, and of course we have our custom order station just there in the back if you are unable to find something that suits your needs,” he said.

                She nodded her thanks and slowly began to meander away from him, weaving her way through the scattering of beds. “Should you need anything, Miss, I’ll be just through here,” he pointed back into the room through which they’d come; filled with various sofas and chairs. Hermione waved her hand at him in understanding and then began to peruse the vast selection of beds. There were beds that looked brand new made of shiny metals and polished woods, and some that were carved from ancient trees that looked older than anything she’d ever seen— even older than some of the pieces at Hogwarts. There were small beds and large beds, some with posters and many without. Ornate carved headboards, headboards made of wrought iron, and a few that had no headboard at all. There were hover beds and beds with a hover option, water beds and feather beds— filled with everything from Puffskein fuzz to actual Hippogriff feathers— and a few mattresses of indeterminate origin. The choices were overwhelming.

                A rather lovely bed caught her eye in the far corner of the room. It was simple, a birch wood headboard that curled up like a sleigh at the bottom and had slight hues of lavender stained into the grain. It looked very feminine. She smiled, the mattress was a double, not quite so large as a queen but not nearly as small as the bed in which Severus currently slept. Sinking down onto the mattress she sighed, it was soft but firm, giving in just the right places with her weight. The little floating tag was plucked easily from the headboard as she read about it. An enchanted memory foam mattress to curtail to every person’s body even the most restless of sleepers, high quality lavender polished used to seal the birch wood posts. It all seemed perfect. Hermione curled up onto the mattress and then sprawled out her arms and legs in a starfish position, pleased that everything remained on the bed.

                She was almost afraid to flip the tag over and discover its price. No doubt something so lovely, even if it was rather plain by comparison to everything else in the room, would be costly. Much to her surprise it wasn’t nearly as expensive as she had imagined. 113 galleons would leave her all but skint, though she rationalized that she would receive another 30 that evening as they were due to continue testing. Five galleons would be enough to pop into the apothecary and pick up shampoo and conditioner and still leave her a few silver sickles. She debated on this for a long time, just laying on the mattress staring up at the ceiling. It was the return of the salesman that roused her from her thoughts.

                “Fond of this one?” he asked, looking just the slightest bit displeased.

                “Yes, it’s very comfortable,” she said with a sheepish grin and then sat up from the mattress. “And I like that it is simple. Beds are for sleeping in, after all.”

                The salesman tried to hide his disappointment with a smile that turned into a rather unfortunate grimace. “Will you be purchasing this one then?” he asked, his tone of voice indicating that he knew full well the pittance of a price.

                “I think so,” she smiled. She was not going to let the unhappy salesman talk her into something more expensive, even if he could provide her with a credit and a payment plan. It was the only major furniture she planned on purchasing, after all, Hermione was a thrifty witch.

                Nearly a half hour had passed before she was finally out of the store with the bed shrunk properly and fitted into a large shopping bag, making her appear as if she’d bought nothing more than a few heavy books. It filled her heart with glee to know that for the first time she actually owned her own bed. The flat she had previously rented after her nasty breakup with Ron had come with the place and thus stayed with the place when she’d been kicked out. And previous to that her life on the lam had not afforded her any sort of actual bed, and before that had been the four-posters at Hogwarts. She was so excited over the prospect that she had completely forgotten about needing linens and things until she’d left the apothecary— with a bottle of lilac shampoo, herbal conditioner, mint body scrub, and a combination facial/body moisturizer and only 12 sickles remaining— and apparated to The Burrow. Molly was overjoyed to see her and welcomed her with a warm embrace.

                Hermione returned the hug and was practically giddy as she followed the matriarch into her home. “Molly, I’ve a strange request…” she’d been calling her Molly ever since the woman had insisted she call her so, Hermione had never properly been able to bring herself to call the woman mom.

                “Oh, of course,” she beamed. “You’re finally ready to move in? I’ve had Ginny’s old room ready for ages, Merlin oh me I thought you’d never ask!”

                Hermione was rather shocked to hear her say these things but managed to hide this surprise well with an appreciative smile. “That is a terribly sweet offer,” she said and hugged the woman once more. “But I’ve actually just found another place, with a flat-mate, and I was wondering if I could take a poke through the attic to look for a few simple furnishings?”

                Molly was more than surprised with Hermione’s news, and while they had never discussed the subject of Hermione losing her previous flat, the matriarch had always suspected something of the like. “Well…” she said with a slight shrug of her shoulders. “While I am a little disappointed that you won’t be staying here…you know you’re more than welcome to anything I’ve got lying around, you can even take a look in Ginny’s old room—”

                “Oh, I’ll just poke about in the attic, wouldn’t want to disturb the guest room.”

                Molly chuckled. “The guest room,” she rolled her eyes and set about with a large pot on the stovetop. “Bill’s room is the guest room. Percy’s room is the guest room. The twins’ room and Ron’s room is the guest room…I was saving Ginny’s room just for you,” she said with a bittersweet smile on her face. “If you see something in there you like just go ahead and take it, it won’t be getting much use elsewhere.” Hermione noted that she had purposefully left Charlie’s room out of the unending list of guest rooms and wondered if that meant that he had moved back home again. She didn’t ask as it was apparently a sore subject every time he was in residence.

                “Thank you, Molly.”

                “Oh no trouble, Hermione, but do promise me once you’ve had a look you’ll come down and have a proper lunch before you pop off to wherever you’re popping off to, yes?”

                “Of course, Molly.” Hermione was so excited she nearly flew up the stairs, not stopping until she reached the third floor landing where Ginny’s room had been. The room that she had stayed in on the nights where she had stayed at The Burrow. It was a room furnished simply and she had always loved the large sweeping mirror that sat over the elongated bureau. Stepping into the room she beamed at her reflection who simply shrugged its shoulders back at her. “Perfect,” she said aloud to no one in particular. The mirror was an overlarge oval shape that extended outward and downward, and like all magical mirrors, had a lovely enchantment to keep her reflection active. It was with a great deal of difficulty that she struggled to get it down from the nail in the wall, realizing afterward that it was still upright and somehow attached to the bureau. The bureau itself was equally as lovely but she felt bad taking both of them. However a few spells and enchantments it seemed if she was to have the mirror she’d be having the bureau as well. The long wooden surface was stained white and ran three drawers across and three drawers down for a total of nine drawers, six shallow smaller drawers running across the top line of drawers. It was indeed a lovely piece of furniture.

                Hermione managed a proper shrinking charm and with a bit of strain loaded the dresser and attached mirror into the bag with her newly purchased bed. It was exciting to think that she would finally have a place to store her clothing other than her enchanted purse and that she could stop using Mrs. Scour’s All-Purpose De-Wrinkling Spray. No matter how neatly she folded her clothes they always got jumbled up in the bottom of her never-ending purse. She glanced around the room and although she was quite taken with the sheer lacy pearl colored curtains she wasn’t even sure that her new room was going to have a window, so she didn’t bother with them. When she stepped back out into the hallway she was surprised to see Molly standing there with an empty laundry hamper. “Oh!” she cried and then smiled. “I’ve taken the dresser with the mirror; I do hope that’s alright.”

                “Of course,” Molly smiled. “Better use with you than sitting in there collecting dust,” she beamed. “Besides, a woman’s room isn’t complete without a lovely place to store her things and a lovely mirror to remind her of how pretty she looks when wearing those things.” Molly brushed by her and stepped into Ginny’s old room. “I’m going through the closet, Ginny left all sorts of things behind when she and Harry got married, they’ve been here for ages and I sent her a howler a few weeks back telling her to get what she wanted or I was chucking the rest, of course I’d never actually chuck it out, I’d donate it, but you’re more than welcome to go through it— I could package it all up in this laundry basket and you could take it with you— what you don’t want you could just send to one of the donation bins.”

                Hermione considered this for a moment. While Ginny was a much more slender girl, stick straight without the curves that Hermione possessed, clothing was not terribly difficult to alter if one was skilled with a wand. And unless Ginny had grown they had worn the same size shoe at Hogwarts. “Alright,” she said with a blush in her cheeks. “Thank you, that would be lovely.” She set her bag down for a moment, the weight of it beginning to tire her arm. “I’m just going to have a look up in the attic if that’s alright?”

                “Fine, fine, anything up there you like— just not the dressmaker’s doll…aside from the fact that it’s falling apart I think it’s haunted, and possible booby trapped,” she said. “There are a few steamer trunks of towels and other linens that nobody uses around here anymore, take whatever you like— might even be some curtains too. Merlin knows Arthur has a world of muggle gizmos and gadgets up there in boxes, he won’t notice if you take some of those— in fact I’m encouraging you to take some. Give me some of my attic space back!” she called as she disappeared into Ginny’s old room. Hermione found herself laughing all the way up into the attic.

                A few good blasts of her wand cleared away most of the dust and cobwebs and the loud thump her body made when she tripped over a rolled up rug scared away the poltergeist, at least for the moment. Hermione was amazed at the amount of things she saw in the Weasley attic, almost like being back in the never ending room of requirement. There were old apothecary chests and dressers, trunks and sofas, all sorts of things. But the thing that caught her eye the quickest was the bookshelf. It wasn’t fancy or even anything more than just some wooden planks screwed together into a wooden frame. That had been the hardest part about losing her flat, having to leave behind many of her books. Of course a good deal of her books had been lost when she’d erased her parents memories— the house ransacked and destroyed long after they were removed from it, but nearly everything she’d kept in her parents’ house had either been set on fire or stolen during the raid. There hadn’t properly been time to collect them when she had been on the run but after the war had ended here and there she picked up what she could; most of which were lost once more when she’d found herself out on the streets.

                It didn’t matter that she no longer had enough books to fill the shelf; the only two books still in her possession being The Tales of Beedle the Bard and the unabridged copy of Hogwarts: A History that she’d purchased for her first year of school. Two was enough to warrant the bookcase and with some magic she shrunk it down and dropped it into the pocket of her jumper. A half-length scroll-top writing desk and matching wooden chair, along with a simple bedside table joined the bookcase in her pocket before she decided no more furniture for her room. That was until she spied the rather strange looking sofa. It was big and deeply squishy, nearly sucking her in when she sat down on it, the cushions and lining made out of some sort of velvet, despite being fairly worn. And the best part about it was the patchwork colors. It was absolutely hideous and she loved it. That was going to go into the living room whether he liked it or not. The thought of Severus’s facial expression upon seeing it sealed the deal for her, and into her pocket it went along with a plush squishy armchair and the rolled up rug she’d tripped over when she came up to the attic.

                Hermione had spent a good hour picking out towels and sheets as well as a few pillows and even some lacy material that she could use as curtains if the room did in fact come with a window. There was even a box of dusty old books, what appeared to be mostly classical muggle literature that she was all too happy to take off Molly’s hands. Christmas had come early in the attic of The Burrow and Hermione was reaping the benefits, feeling slightly less guilty about it the more things she stumbled across. When she finally descended the stairs with her pockets practically overflowing Molly was all too eager to assist her in getting them packed properly into her shopping bag.

                The ladies enjoyed a hearty lunch and Molly was all too sad to see Hermione go, but she explained that she needed to unpack her new things before evening as she had other plans. She failed to mention that those other plans involved being stark naked in front of her middle son while most likely being fucked by Severus Snape. A quick pop over to Ginny’s house and she had her steamer trunk from her school days; her final apparation taking her back to Spinner’s End. She frowned when she discovered the door was locked and desperately prayed that he had not changed his mind and tossed her out without telling her.

                Knocking hesitantly on the door it was quite some time before he answered and when he did he looked displeased. “I had so hoped that you’d gone away,” he muttered letting her in, noting with a sneer that she held two oversized shopping bags, and that her steamer trunk was floating behind her. “Pity that wasn’t my luck.” Hermione ignored him and stepped into the sitting room, letting her trunk drop beside the makeshift sofa, both bags landing on its lumpy cushions. “And just what do you think you’re doing?” he asked.

                “Well I suppose I’m going to unpack here in the living room,” she said and began to rifle through the bag Molly had packed with everything she’d found in Ginny’s closet.

                “You most certainly will not, Miss Granger. Anything you’ve hauled into here needs to be kept in the room that you will be—”

                “Well that will be this room until we create the room you intend to keep me in, which I’m more than happy to start creating now—”

                “You will find,” he snapped at her, his eyes narrowing onto her as he did. “That the door opposite my bedroom will lead you to that room. Had you been here when I awoke this morning you would have been able to partake in its creation. If it is not to your liking, too bad.”

                She should have been mad, but found that she was too excited to see the actual space to care if he was being flip. Leaving her bags and the steamer trunk in the living room she made her way down the hallway and pushed open the door across the hall from his. Hermione was surprised. The room was quite sizable; more than ample for the furniture she’d procured and there was even a window, if a bit small, that faced the backwoods of the property. She beamed from ear to ear and was grateful in that moment that her back was still to the doorway as he had followed her into the new room. “It’s perfect,” she said and then schooled her features so that she didn’t look quite so much like a child on Christmas morning, before turning around. “I’ve gotten some furnishings and a few for the living room as well.”

                Severus narrowed his eyes once more at her. “The living room has no need for additional furnishings, the chair will suffice once it is turned back into a chair,” he growled.

                Hermione rolled her eyes. “If I’m going to be living here, having someplace to sit other than the bed in my bedroom would be nice,” she said. “And it makes no sense to only have one chair,” she chided and then stepped back out of the room. Moving over to the bags on the makeshift couch, she plucked them up and with a wave of her wand the lumpy excuse of furniture was transfigured back into its high-backed state as a chair. She pushed it out of the way and began to dig in the furniture bag for the large squishy couch she’d found in the Weasley attic, plucking it and the mismatching armchair out, righting them to their original size. Severus looked appalled as he watched her rearrange them in front of the fireplace. And he turned up his nose when she unrolled the fluffy rug that could have been a hybrid between an oriental decorative piece and a shag carpet. “See?” she said.

                “I wish I hadn’t,” he muttered and gazed at the garish sofa as if it might suddenly spark to life and attack him like a slobbering dog. “I shudder to even think on where you procured these—” he waved his hand in her general direction to halt her words. “On second thought I am positive that I do not wish to know.”

                Again she found herself rolling her eyes. “We need to talk about food and the bathroom I suppose, but for now I’m just as happy to ignore you and go set about putting the bed and dresser in my room,” she said picking up her bags. Without a word he allowed her to walk into the hall and into her bedroom. She didn’t shut the door behind her but he didn’t follow, nor did she hear him slip into his own bedroom but for the moment she was content simply to arrange her room.

                It took her nearly two hours to get everything returned to its proper size with the bed against the back wall the writing desk just near the window, the table near the bed the bookcase behind the door and the dresser on the opposite wall as the bed. She put her steamer trunk at the foot of her bed and beamed that everything seemed to be fitted in exactly the right place with just enough room for her to walk around. She transfigured the laundry basket into a proper hamper and tucked it into the corner near the dresser, she could sort through Ginny’s miscellaneous things later, a wand wave had them shrunk and sitting in a drawer inside the dresser. She was pleased as punch as she used her wand to tidy up the room, sending sheets onto the bed, pillows as well, a pair of lacy curtains to the window and the box of muggle classics to the bookshelf. With a bit more magic she affixed a hook to the back of the door and hung her bathrobe there, beside it her night robe and beside it a makeshift mesh tiered cage that she would use for showering. Hermione was thrilled with having a space all her own once more and flopped down on the bed, sighing in ecstasy.

                The knock on the open door came as a surprise and she bolted upright. “Yes?” she said, having just finished putting her two personal books on the shelf. Her eyes focused on Severus who was standing in the doorway of her bedroom gazing about the room. “Can I help you?”

                Severus let his lips tug into a smirk. “Not really a question you wish to be asking, Miss Granger, it is often said that you should not ask questions to which you truly do not wish to know the answer,” he said and then crossed his arms casually, albeit low, over his chest. “It’s nearly half five,” he said.

                She had been prepared to make a quip about questions and answers when he reminded her of the time. It meant that they would be heading off to work soon. Such a funny concept; she and he now living together, heading off to work together. Work; if it could be called that, though she supposed it was the technical term as they were being paid for what they did behind the closed doors of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. Just a very different industry of work, one she had not thought in a million years she would ever find herself in, though she supposed it was not so horrid and lurid as the pornographic industry. At least she wasn’t selling her body for sex in the sense that she was whoring out to a different stranger every night. Realizing that once again she’d become entangled in her own thoughts and that Severus was still standing in her doorway staring expectantly at her she stood from the bed and waved her hand at him. “I’m going to change and I’ll be right there.”

                Severus didn’t say a word as he vacated her doorway, leaving her alone. She sighed and with a wave of her hand pulled the door shut so that she could change in the privacy of her own room. The dour gloom that he had trailed into the room with him vanished as she realized she had a room of her room, albeit under the most peculiar of circumstance. Hermione stood from her bed and shed her robes, jeans, and basic garments. It made no sense to wear things that were terribly restrictive as she would only end up taking them off. She realized with a frown that she’d worn her last clean bra and pair of knickers and had not yet started charming her laundry. Though now that she was living in a residence she supposed she would no longer have to. That was another thing that she would have to discuss with him after their shift at the workshop.

                Hermione, temporarily lacking clean underthings decided that since most of the evening was spent either naked or in the robe George provided that she would simply throw a full length traveling cloak over her person and close it properly down the front. Out into the hallway and then into the sitting room she was annoyed but not surprised to find that he had left the house already and had most likely apparated to Diagon Alley.

                Arriving at the Joke Shop she was only a few steps behind him and let herself in as George was helping the last of his customers toward the exit. “Glad you’re both here a few minutes early, if you want to head straight up and get ready we can get going as soon as I count up the till, I want to make up for wrapping up so early last night.” Hermione nodded at him and then headed up the staircase to the second floor of the shop, noting that Severus was already halfway up the stairs to the workshop. She didn’t rush to catch up with him but instead took her time on the steps, entering the workshop as he was stripping out of his boxers. She moved over to the hook and simply shrugged out of her traveling cloak, leaving her completely naked.

                This earned her a quirked brow, but little more as he slipped into his robe and then handed her hers. “Thank you,” she said, not really sure what sort of reaction she had hoped for with her stunning reveal of a naked body underneath the cloak. But the moment had passed and she would never know as she put her own robe on and moved over to the work table. She hopped up on it and crossed her legs, swinging them back and forth.

                “Are you nervous?” he asked, standing in front of her.

                “About the D2?” she asked, flushing just slightly as she spoke the product’s name. “Yes, I suppose so, though I’m trying not to be.”

                The warmth from the palm of his hand surprised her as he cupped her cheek, tilting her head upward so that she was looking up into his eyes. She felt herself leaning into his touch, her eyes falling closed for the briefest of seconds. But she forced her eyes open trying not to be too comfortable with him. For a moment she thought he was going to speak, give her some encouraging word or something but he said nothing, only held her gaze and then gently let his hand slip away from her face. Hermione flushed, feeling foolish for indulging in that intimate moment, an intimate moment that felt wildly out of place there in the workshop. She watched as he picked up the box that held the D2. “You first?” she asked, her voice sounding just a bit nervous.

                He considered this for a moment and then nodded his head. Hermione slowly exhaled so that her sigh of relief wouldn’t be so audible. At least she had felt him inside of her, if only just the night before. And at least she knew he was somewhat malleable; though she knew it probably wasn’t the right word. The phallus she had witnessed George push into the sleeve of the novelty knickers seemed rigid and unyielding and that terrified her. She’d never been one for toys of a personal nature but had given a vibrating wand a go once. Her conclusion was that it was far too stiff and rigid for proper penetration and if the phallus that filled the sleeve was anything like that wand she imagined it would be none too pleasant inside her back door. But for the moment she wouldn’t have to worry about that.

                Hermione slid down off the table and stood beside him, watching as he stepped into the thong, having adjusted the sleeve so that it was above his cock. She frowned. “You—”

                “It will not be possible to do as we did last night,” his voice was low. And she realized that he was right. The work table was even smaller than his single mattress had been and it would be impossible to fit both of them atop it without one of them landing on the floor. Her eyes were uncertain as she questioned him silently. “If you ride atop my lap the phallus can be in the front, thus on top, giving you what you requested.” He paused and let his lips quirk into a half smirk. “Me first.”

                She tried not to blush at his dirty comment but to no avail. The warmth that flooded her cheeks was also flooding her loins; something dreadfully arousing about him talking as he was, and there wasn’t even anything really dirty about what he had said. It was how he had said it that gave her a rise. “Ok,” she whispered and watched as he began to fiddle with the phallus, adjusting it. She noted that while the thong fit him well he was still flaccid. “Did you…” her voice trailed off, her cheeks stinging more brightly than before. “Erm, nevermind,” she whispered, drawing her eyes away from his crotch.

                He had raised a brow at her and then stared at her silently for several minutes. “If you were about to ask did I need assistance, Miss Granger…” he shook his head in a disapproving manner and clucked his tongue. “Surely you’ve noticed that I’ve managed without you before?”

                If he was trying to bruise her ego she was determined not to let it get to her. Then again she had played quite the trick on him with the cloud panties, insisting that he be tested as well. She supposed that made them even but she wasn’t so sure if she was willing to give up their little game just yet. Even if she was playing it by herself all in her head. Hermione nodded and then turned her back to him, pausing before she let the robe slide down her shoulders, catching it halfway so that the upper half of her naked back was exposed to him. She turned around, baring her breasts in front of him, the chill of the workshop bringing her nipples to stiff peaks. “Do you think he has a lubricant?”

                For a moment she watched his eyes; the way they gazed first at her face and then dropped slowly down taking in her breasts. If he was doing anything other than studying them she couldn’t tell. There was no lust smoldering in his eyes, no licking of the lips, or salivating over them. She did note, however, that he’d brought his hand to his cock and began to firmly stroke himself; whether he’d begun that while her back was to him or after she’d shown him her breasts she couldn’t be certain. “Even if he does, Miss Granger, I wouldn’t trust a lubricant in this workshop as far as I could throw it,” he nodded his head to his robes. “In the front pocket of my frock coat.”

                Hermione let her robe slide off her body completely and she laid it on the table before walking over to his frock coat and retrieving the tube of lubricant. It didn’t’ seem like anything special though from the faint smell of it she could tell it was what he had used on her night before. Images flitted through her mind of the way he’d stroked her and then massaged it into the taut muscles of her anus. A flood of warmth formed between her legs as she vividly remembered these sensations; the intimacy he had allowed her for the sake of her comfort, the way their bodies had pressed together making her tingle with desire. Bringing it back to him she tried to keep her fingers from trembling as she placed the tube in her hand.

                The door from the shop opening into the workshop startled her but his firm hand on her shoulder kept her from jumping out of her skin. George walked over carrying a stack of boxes. “What in Merlin’s name is all that?” she asked.

                “These,” he said with a grin as he set the boxes down on the work table, “Are the first batch of products that are labeled, marketed and just about ready for sale.” He was grinning his lopsided grin from ear to ear, so wide that it looked like it might stretch off his face. “Just the nipple creams, but I wanted to show them to you guys in their fancy boxes before I set them out in the morning…just a test run to see if there’s an interest, which I am very much hoping there is or we’ll be doing this all for naught…”

                Hermione picked up one of the boxes, noting its sleek design and the way it looked slightly naughty but in a very tasteful way. “Oh, George, these are actually quite brilliant!” she squealed, her excitement knowing no bounds in that moment.

                George stacked them up neatly and then turned his eyes to Severus. “Well what do you think?”

                Severus shrugged. “Don’t look at me, I’m not purchasing any of these products,” he said and then examined one of the boxes. “Although I imagine if it pleases her it will please the vast majority of your every day witch.”

                She would have taken it as an insult if he hadn’t sounded so dreadfully serious when he said it. Once again clinically assessing the situation. Hermione hid her smile as she turned to face George. “At any rate I think they’ll be fine, are you putting them up tomorrow?” she asked.

                “I had planned on it, though maybe I’ll wait ‘til after the weekend,” he shrugged his shoulders. “We’ll see how busy it is early tomorrow morning.” Gathering up the boxes he lined them up carefully and then carried them back across the workshop to what looked like a makeshift shopping cart. “All ready to go,” he said and then moved back to them. “Are you two ready to pick up where we left off? D2 I think, and then we can go through the rest of that lingerie box and see if any of it is worth a look?”

                Hermione nodded her head, though her stomach was flipping itself inside and out. She tried not to be nervous, she tried not to worry about the pressure or the pain and that George would be watching. He had never been anything but professional; albeit extremely aloof; gazing on them and their interactions solely for the purpose of learning about the product they were testing. “You said we should test it both ways, right?” her voice squeaked a bit so she cleared her throat trying to sound as if she had a tickle and not a bout of tightly wound nerves that were about to burst through her chest.

                “Yeah, Severus mentioned it and I think it’s a good idea, I suppose it doesn’t matter which you do first, but if this works out and isn’t too awkward or problematic, I think that we may really be onto something here.” He paused a moment and drew up the ledger. “Who knew my brother was such a perv? Bloody genius, but an absolute perv,” he smirked and then sat down on the stool beginning to draw up his quill and inkpot.

                She couldn’t stall much longer regardless of how nervous she was. Nodding her head at Severus, she moved toward him and eyed the stool beneath the work table, pulling it out with trembling fingers. “You transfigure that into a chair, like the one we used when testing the Hufflepuff condom, and I will get you ready,” he said. Hermione could feel herself clenching without meaning to as she wandlessly and wordlessly transfigured the stool into a suitable chair. It looked wider than it had when he’d transfigured it the day before and she couldn’t discern if she’d done that intentionally or not. Glancing back over her shoulder she bit her lower lip and stepped back toward him, feeling both of his palms cupping the cheeks of her ass.

                “Be right back,” George said standing suddenly from his stool and dashing across the workshop to the stairs that led up to his flat. He was gone before Hermione could ask where he was going.

                “I can’t do this,” she whimpered, turning panicked eyes to Severus.

                Firm hands touched her shoulders and spun her back around so that her backside was facing him once more. “You did it last night,” he said and then pressed the length of his body forward against her; letting his chest rest against her back. Hermione drew in a trembling breath as she felt his lips brush against her neck. “You just need to relax, think about last night.” His voice was that same intimate whisper it had been in his bedroom and that nearly swept her away. His hands drifted down her body and she felt her spine arching backward against him, the heat between their bodies easing her a bit. “That’s right,” each word pressed his lips against the pulse point in her neck and she felt her body practically melting into him.

                Those firm hands kneaded at the flesh of her bum for several seconds before gently pushing them apart, one finger stroking up and down between her crack, the other hand opening the lubricant. It felt warmed as it had the night before; the way his finger circled around her anus, coated liberally in the stuff making her tremble again. But she closed her eyes, concentrating on the way his breath fell against her neck, the way the soft tendrils of his hair brushed against the tops of her shoulders. Unbidden images from the previous night drifted behind her eyes, the way she had twisted her head back and gazed up into his eyes, the way she’d found such a trust in them. These images swirled in her mind and she felt her body easing up; she felt the muscles slackening a bit as he prodded his finger at her, pressing it into the taut ring of muscles and gently stretching her opening.

                He shifted his body back, “Come on,” he whispered and then moved around in front of her to sit in the chair. Severus gazed up at her expectantly and then reached his arms forward and gently gripped her hips. “You can do this.”

                Hermione stepped forward and her legs were shaking as she stood straddling over his legs. “I…” her voice died in her throat when she heard the door to the flat close, followed by George’s footsteps on the stairs. “Oh, Severus—”

                “You can do this,” he repeated, his voice much softer, his hand now gingerly cupping her mound, his thumb deftly slipping between her folds and nudging at her clit. She jumped slightly but stayed where she was, biting her lower lip as she tried to focus. His touch; it was always his touch that was driving her wild and for a moment she let that sensation fill her. The way his thumb seemed to know exactly how to flick at her clit, know exactly where it was and how much she needed it touched. That helped her body ease as she settled her lap down atop his thighs. She hadn’t even noticed that he’d stayed hard while prepping her, both his cock and the phallus completely upright with the phallus pressing against his stomach and his cock resting against the phallus.

                “You guys all set?” George asked, returning with a fresh notebook tucked under his arm. He took his place on the stool. “This one was getting close to full and I don’t want to keep making notes over top of all Fred’s original stuff, may actually have to go back and be able to read some of it.” George paused looking from Severus to Hermione. “Everything alright?”

                Hermione felt a knot forming in her throat but Severus spoke before she had to. “She’s merely preparing herself, Mr. Weasley, it’s a delicate experience.”

                “Oh, of course!” George seemed nonplused by this bit of information and took to scribbling in the new notebook without hesitation.

                She let her head fall forward for a moment, resting her forehead against his shoulder, reveling in the contact for as long as she thought he would allow her. Hermione lifted her head and gazed into his eyes, an unspoken glance of gratitude passing between them as she shifted her hips a bit, feeling both of his hands firmly gripping either side of her. She exhaled and then gripped his shoulders, lifting herself up so that she could properly press both the phallus and his cock against her entrance. She noted as she gazed down into his lap that the phallus was a few inches shorter than his cock and a faded smile crossed her lips. He had adjusted the toy so that she would be able to sink onto his cock first, letting herself ease down onto him and control the pace of him entering her before the phallus would slide up into her womanhood. For that she was beyond grateful.

                Already she could feel her body struggling against the swollen tip of his cock as she eased herself back down against him, but she forced her mind to focus on his touch. His hands; the way they gripped her, firmly and reassuring. She gazed into his eyes and could see him gazing back at her, intently keeping her stare with his as she felt him push upward just enough to push the head of his cock past the taut ring of muscles. Hermione swallowed back a whimper as her fingernails dug into his shoulders trying to keep from sliding down the length of his cock and fully impaling herself too quickly. But the firm grip of his hands on her hips kept her from doing exactly that. She tried to ease up on her grip, not having meant to have marked his flesh with the little half-moon marks as she had. But if he minded or even noticed he showed no sign, never once breaking eye contact with her.

                And then she felt it again; the tingling in her lungs and realized she’d been holding her breath. His voice from the night before came creeping back into her mind. Your muscles are more at ease when you breathe. Hermione exhaled and then drew in a breath, trying to focus on her lungs contracting and expanding. It helped and she could feel her muscles unclenching around him, his cock filling her a bit more as she started to sink down against him. She could feel the phallus pressing against her mound, not quite properly lined up at her entrance and she clenched the walls of her anus ever so slightly, feeling him respond by holding her firmly in place. One trembling hand left his shoulder and she guided the phallus gently until it rested at her entrance and then slowly she closed her eyes and then felt herself sinking down onto the phallus as well as his cock.

                Hermione moaned; the sound caught halfway between a whimper and a cry as she felt herself experiencing double penetration for the first time. “Oh fuck,” she cried, unable to help herself as she slid further down, feeling him fill her even more fully than he had the night before. She could feel the phallus inside of her, not nearly as pleasant as if he were filling her but it created such a tight sensation she felt as if she were about to burst. Hermione sobbed, throwing her head forward as her body trembled, overwhelmed with sensations.

                “Is she alright?” George asked, lifting his head from the ledger, the slightest look of concern on his face.

                “She’s fine,” Severus said. “This is the sound you want a woman to make…generally speaking,” he said and then released her right hip. Bringing his hand up he tugged her chin back up from his shoulder and gazed into her eyes. “You are alright,” he whispered, though whether or not George heard she couldn’t say. All she could focus on in that moment was the intense sensation of being filled by him and the phallus and how she felt she was literally going to erupt. But his eyes were steady as they gazed into hers and she nodded, stifling another sob of mingled painful pleasure. It wasn’t so much pain as it was pressure and fullness and dizziness, and she gasped in a lungful of air, the dizziness going away almost immediately.

                “I’m alright,” she repeated softly and then leaned her forehead against his cheek. “It’s just…ooh gods…” she moaned, feeling him shift slightly beneath her, just a slight swivel of his hips in the upward motion. She wasn’t sure she could take a full on fucking being filled in both of her holes. It would kill her though she would most likely die happy. She couldn’t stop her muscles from clenching against him and the phallus, her body going wild trying to compensate for being so full, drawing them in further or all the way, anything but the current standstill at which she’d arrived; completely full and teetering on the edge of something she couldn’t describe.

                “Severus, there’s a note here about dual sensation,” George said idly, flipping the pages in the green ledger book. “Are you feeling anything unusual?”

                “Aside from her clenching like mad,” he said through gritted teeth. “It feels like anal sex,” he said and then tipped his head back slightly.

                Hermione saw it; that hint of disruption in his resolve and for some reason it made her body ease up. The heavy sigh that he panted when her muscles temporarily stopped clenching him made her wriggle just a bit. While she was in no position to toy with him it had made her feel as if they were on equal playing fields for the moment, he no longer her sexual tour guide and she no longer some lost puppy that needed instruction. For that one minute where his brow had creased and he’d glanced up at the ceiling she had felt as if she were astride a man with sexual needs rather than the clinically detached man with whom she’d been working. And despite all of their intimacies the night prior during her preparation, she had never felt more close to him than she had in that moment presently, filled by him and watching him crack under the strains of pleasure.

                “Well it says that there’s supposed to be some sort of stimulant…” George was still fingering his way through pages when Hermione turned her head to glance at him. “Something about two cocks, but ah well…I can always have a look at it later. Hermione, how does it feel?”

                “Fucking amazing,” she panted, not giving a rat’s ass how lewd and wanton she sounded. The pressure was still there and the feeling of being stretched to the point of breaking was still present, but there was just something utterly satisfying about it and coupled with the way she’d seen him just then that made her feel high; pleasantly bathed in the waves of ecstasy even if she was nowhere near a climax.

                George chuckled. “Well, then,” he grinned a bit. “Good to know,” he scratched a few notes in the ledger. “Give it a go and see if the phallus holds up without slipping out of the sleeve or out of her, and we’ll go from there.”

                Hermione wasn’t sure how to go about getting started but Severus seemed to have the answer. Once again his hands were on her hips and she felt herself leaning forward, her pelvis gyrating slightly as she was lifted upward. “Oooh, fuck!” she hissed feeling her walls clenching at the loss as he pulled her upward. Even though she was still filled in both orifices her body was desperate to remain that way and clenched against his cock and the phallus making it an extremely tight pull before she felt herself sliding back down the dual lengths, a moan echoing in her ear that was not her own.

                Her eyes were only half-lidded but she could clearly see the strain on his face as he tried to keep from vocalizing what an effect her clutching muscles were having on him. Hermione arched her hips up and then sank down again, slowly at first, taking control of riding both his cock and the phallus. The silky slickness of his cock felt wonderful inside of her ass and she was thoroughly soaking the phallus with her own arousal. While the phallus was stiff it was not nearly as stiff as the vibrating wand she had once experimented with had been. It was not nearly as accommodating as Severus’ cock and she did not imagine it would be pleasant in her ass; not as pleasant as he felt anyway. While she couldn’t say that she definitely liked anal sex, feeling him as he was in that moment was definitely giving her the impression that she could grow to like it, at least with him anyhow. It wasn’t something that she could ever see herself asking for, but for all the desperate sounds he seemed to be choking off in the back of his throat, she would let him have her in that way if he so desired. Especially if his cock was going to feel like heated slick silk every time he was inside of her.

                That thought stream paralyzed her and she felt her muscles clench tightly around him, eliciting a hiss from his lips. Why on earth had she been thinking about whether or not he would want such a thing from her. Images of the way his body had lined so perfectly against hers in his bed the previous night were flitting suddenly through her mind and her pulse began to race. “Stop, stop, stop,” she whispered, trying to force those thoughts from her mind.

                Severus held still beneath her, not that he’d been moving much, his hand gripping her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. “Are you in pain?” he asked, his voice clearly strained.

                “No, no, sorry, I’m fine,” she whimpered. “I don’t know what came over me,” she confessed, her voice barely a whisper. How very embarrassed she would feel if George were actually listening to the words coming out of her mouth. But he was thankfully distracted with scribbling away in the new notebook, leaving Hermione and Severus on their own mid fuck-session.

                “Then why did you cry out to stop?” he gritted his teeth feeling her muscles clenching against him once more.

                Hermione shook her head and then leaned her cheek against his, her lips against his ear. “I don’t know,” she whispered, unable to help herself as she began to gyrate up and down in his lap. She needed the friction that sliding up and down had caused. She could feel a pressure building inside of her; the way she felt so full, practically feeling his cock pushing against the phallus as she quickened her pace. Where before there had been hesitation now she felt only need, her eyes closed as she worked her hips up and down, his strangled breaths and desperate attempts to remain silent only encouraging her. She could feel him losing the firm hand he had on his control, the way his body undulated beneath her, the way her body gyrated atop him; their bodies working together to achieve a common goal: pleasure.

                Thoughts be damned, her mind was flooded with the memory of the passionate kiss he’d bestowed upon her the first night she’d sought him out; the way his tongue had practically waged war in her mouth, so fierce and so intense. With that sensation echoing in her head her body began to heat even quicker than before and she began to bounce up and down the length of his cock, the phallus slamming up deep into her vagina as she rode his lap, grinding her hips against his pelvis. “Ooh, ooh….oooh” she whimpered, each downward thrust of her body bringing his pelvis into contact with her clit, adding a third layer of stimulation to her pleasure.

                She could feel that steep cliff peaking within her; drawing closer and closer with each downward thrust, her fingers gripping so tightly to his shoulders that she thought they might break. But in that moment she didn’t care; not for her fingers not for his shoulders, only that she needed to come, needed to burst with pleasure from being so fully filled. Hands were on her back, stroking her or clutching at her, she couldn’t tell and she didn’t care. She knew they were his; his control slipping from him. She was taking his control from him but her mind had gone primal and her need usurped her cognition. Hermione was rocking faster in his lap, up and down, frantic as she whimpered and mewled, the occasional growl of his mingling with her lusty sounds.

                And then she felt it; the erupting pleasure that she had been waiting for. Her clit was pulsing, her walls were clamping the phallus, her anus was clenching furiously around him and her body was shuddering, every inch of her being on fire with sheer ecstasy. Heat erupted inside of her, and not just her own climax but she felt him shudder, harder than she’d ever felt him shudder before and a soft strangled cry escaped his lips as he came, his chest heaving up and down against hers. Her body went limp against him and she felt his arms fall slack down her back, their hearts beating fiercely inside their chests, which were pressed together with a thin sheen of sweat between them.

                Never in her life had she anticipated such an orgasm, and certainly not from anal sex. Though she realized as the lusty fog cleared her mind that it had been so much more than anal sex. Quickly trying to regain her composure she sat up straight in his lap, lifting her hips up until she was freed from both his slowly deflating cock and the phallus. Hermione settled herself on his thighs, still breathing quite hard, searching his eyes for some sort of sign. She didn’t know what she would find there, and seeing the swirls of unreadable black emotions frustrated her. She couldn’t identify whatever it was he was feeling and as quickly as she’d seen it was as quickly as it had vanished, Severus once more looking stoic and calm, despite having been anything but just a moment before.

                “Well…” George, who was flushed bright pink in the cheeks tried not to look smug. “I’ll take that as satisfactory then? Product works well? I’m guessing you’ll both want a few minutes before we test it the other way round?”

                Before Hermione could say that she might need a few hours before such a thing could occur she felt Severus pushing her back from his lap. She stumbled to her feet and looked slightly affronted but realized why as soon as she had her bearings. “I do not believe we will be testing it the other way around, Mr. Weasley, the sleeve appears to have torn,” he said and then stood, sliding the thong down his legs to remove it. As he had said there was a gaping hole in the sleeve that had previously held the phallus and she realized that it had only stayed in place because she had been riding atop him.

                George looked dreadfully disappointed, his frown taking up his whole face. “Well bollocks to that then,” he muttered and drew his wand. Waving it at the thong the garment and the phallus disappeared. Hermione hoped wherever they’d been banished to that George would take to thoroughly cleaning them before trying to make any repairs. “Well,” he said after a moment, flipping through the ledger. “There’s still a bunch of garments and things to go through in the hatbox before we move on.”

                Hermione nodded. “A small break might not be bad though,” she suggested, having picked up her discarded robe and put it on. “Just some water and a minute or two to rest,” she added.

                “I think I can manage that,” he said. “I’ll run up to the flat and get you some water. Any for you, Severus?”

                Severus shook his head, still leaning in the chair, cock slick with lubricant, though no longer rigid. George departed their company and when she was sure he was up inside the flat she stepped over to him and looked at him properly. “I’m sorry— I don’t know what came over me,” she said sheepishly.

                He waved his hand dismissively at her. “It is of little consequence.”

                “You just seemed like you—”

                “Like I what, Miss Granger?” he asked. Severus stood from the chair and picked up his own robe, drawing it around his figure. There was a breeze that swept across her and she shivered, realizing that he’d cast a cleansing charm upon them both, leaving her warm and dry as if she’d just come from the bath. “I am fine,” he drew the tie of his robe around his waist. “I do not need you worrying yourself over me,” he said simply and then added. “Unless you’ve suddenly contracted something between last night and now that I should be aware of.”

                “No!” she cried looking thoroughly embarrassed. “No,” she repeated more softly. “I— oh nevermind,” she huffed.

                Severus rolled his eyes. “No discomfort or excessive soreness, I take it?” he asked.

                Hermione shook her head, not trusting herself enough to provide a verbal answer. The man at the best of times could be trying, but in that moment he was being an outright ass. But she didn’t have time to mull it over as George came bounding back down the stairs with a bottle of water, tossing it to her. She caught it against her body but smiled at him nonetheless, popping off the top and taking a gulp. Cool water ran down her throat and she suddenly felt normal as if all the heat that had built up inside of her was so easily cured by a splash of hydration. “Alright, what next then?” she asked.

                George gestured to the box. “Have a look at the rest of the stuff in the hatbox, pull out what you like and I’ll see if we have notes for it.”

                Reaching her hand into the hatbox the first thing her fingers touched was a bright yellow sash made of satiny silk. Pulling it out of the box she stared at it for a long moment. She never had been able to tell the difference between silk and satin. “It looks like a silk scarf,” she said and then twirled it around her fingers. “Doesn’t seem to be anything special,” she shrugged and then quickly dropped it, watching it float to the work table as the memory of the Tricky Handy Panties popped to mind. “Any idea what it might be?” she asked, turning her head to look at George. Tentatively she plucked it up once more and brought it to her cheek, it was indeed soft.

                The sound of flipping pages filled the workshop but after several searches he turned up nothing. Severus, who had not moved from the chair after having donned his robe shrugged his shoulders, “Perhaps it is an unfinished product…or simply meant to be a scarf.”

                “I suppose,” said George. “Though that doesn’t seem like Fred at all…there must be something somewhere…ah! Here!” he shouted, jamming his finger against the page. “Sexy Silks,” he said and then frowned. “Use these lengths of silks— yellow, purple, green, black, red— to bind your partner to the bed. Silks self-binding.”

                “Self-binding?” Hermione asked, setting the yellow scarf down once more. She turned her attention to the box and began to rummage through its contents. It did not take her long to realize that the hatbox was enchanted in a similar fashion to her purse, much bigger on the inside. As she shifted things about she caught a glimpse of something that looked silky and purple. Tugging it out from the box revealed a twin to the yellow scarf only this one was in a rich shade of violet, and felt lighter against her hand. “Two down three to go,” she said aloud though more to herself than to either of the men. It took her a few more minutes of rummaging but she was eventually able to produce the earthy green and pitch black silk scarves from within the depths of the box. Despite her best efforts she could not put her hands on a red silk scarf and after a few more thorough searches; she gave up on its existence. “Well?” she asked, looking back to George. “Any idea how we activate them?”

                George rose from the stool. “I’ve no idea, there’s nothing in the ledger about them, but my guess is going to be there probably needs to be something to bind the person to…I don’t think the work table will really do, though—” he paused mid sentence his eyes going wide. “I think I’ve got it. Can you two transfigure the table, well I mean you don’t have to, it just might be more comfortable for whoever’s going to be tied to it,” he said with a goofy grin and then dashed off to the other side of the workshop. Returning a moment later, George made his way to the table with four long PVC pipes tucked under his arm. “I think if we place one of these at each of the corners of the table with a little transfiguration we can have ourselves a right four-poster bed!” he exclaimed.

                The idea was a rather brilliant one and within minutes there was a makeshift four-poster bed where the work table had been. Why on earth she hadn’t thought to mention such a thing before as she was the one that had spent the majority of the time up on the cold marble surface, she couldn’t fathom, but they had it now. And going forward she was going to insist they use it to keep her from excessive discomfort. She stood, still in her robe, with Severus standing beside her, gazing at the bed that now looked very similar to the single mattress in his bedroom, only this version had four-posters, one at each corner.

                “Alright, Severus why don’t you lie down. You’re a good bit stronger than Hermione, I reckon, no offense, Hermione,” he added hastily. “So you would be ideal to test these if they really are meant to bind you up and keep you tied down for a kinky game.”

                There was something about the way George said kinky game that made her snort, which she quickly covered by coughing into her hand, but not before Severus narrowed his eyes at her. That seemed to irk him but he was difficult to read so she tried to ignore it as he slowly took of his robe and sat on the edge of the bed. Severus brought his legs up and then reclined back into the makeshift mattress, lying flat on his back with his legs together and his arms at his side.

                “And do I just…” Hermione frowned as her voice trailed off. “What, toss them on him and see if they bind him up?” she said. George shrugged having as much of a clue as she did. With a sigh she picked up the yellow scarf, the one she had touched first in the box, and then laid it across his mid section, stepping back as if she expected it to suddenly explode. “Well that was exciting,” she said after a moment of absolutely nothing happening. Severus remained stone still on the bed, gazing up at the ceiling, his naked body exposed. “Anything?” she asked, as if he might somehow feel something she couldn’t see. He shook his head no and remained quiet. “George, let me see that book. Maybe they need some sort of spell or enchantment or you have to say a trigger word or something.”

                “Be my guest, but I’ll warn you, he’s got crude doodles everywhere and his handwriting is little more than chicken scratch,” said George, gesturing to the ledger.

                Hermione, who was still wearing her robe, stepped over and picked up the ledger, thumbing through the pages one at a time. There were indeed crude drawings in the margins, and all over the rest of the pages, but she had to admit Fred had been a very talented, albeit graphic, artist. It was the picture of a wanton woman on the bottom of a page near the back that caught her eye. A buxom blonde that was winking at her. There was something off about the picture, the way she wore purple garters around her thighs, black bracelets sketched in over her wrists, the corset that did not at all contain her breasts looking as if it were drawn out of green ribbon. Hermione grinned. “I think your brother left you a picture message,” she said noting the little yellow bows on the side of the corset and the red laces that held her stilettos in place.

                George leaned over Hermione’s shoulder and looked at the drawing. “Well she does have all the same colors of the scarves,” he said thoughtfully and then twisted the ledger sideways. “It says, tugs ends,” he pointed to a miniscule scribble just beneath the red stiletto the sketched woman was wearing.

                “Tug ends?” Hermione’s brow furrowed. She handed the ledger back to George. “Alright.” Severus, who had remained on the makeshift bed with the yellow scarf still draped over his stomach turned his head to the side and caught her gaze. “I think we figured out how to activate the self binding element of these scarves, though I’ve rightly no idea what they do.” She had an inkling that Fred had clued them in by the strategic placement of the drawing but beyond that she couldn’t say. She really hoped that the green ribbon didn’t magically bind him into a corset, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep a straight face if it did.

                Picking up the long yellow scarf she held each end in one hand and then tugged until the material was taut. As she slacked her grip the scarf began to wriggle, causing her to drop it onto his torso. If the moving scarf stunned him or even surprised him he gave no indication, simply laying there, eyes now focused down the length of his chest, watching. Hermione watched in fascination as the yellow scarf grew longer and longer, slipping over his torso in both directions, sliding ends under the joints of thighs, wrapping around and covering his cock from sight. It was truly magic, watching the length of silky yellow fabric wend its way around his body, moving of its own enchantment. When the scarf stopped moving, Severus’s arms were pinned loosely at his side, his manhood well covered and just at his pelvis was a large intricate yellow bow.

                George was grinning wildly. “It’s wrapped him up!” he cried.

                Severus rolled his eyes. “This looks ridiculous.”

                “Actually,” Hermione quirked her lips to the side. “You look like a present,” she said and then nodded at the bow atop the intricate layers of wrapping. “A special present that a lover could unwrap if he or she so desired…” her fingers were twitching at her side, desperate to pull the bow and see what happened. “Can I, George?” she asked, nodding at the bow over Severus’ pelvis.

                “Is it restraining, Severus?” he asked, completely ignoring Hermione.

                Severus shifted his arms outward, trying to push past the yellow ribbon but they seemed to struggle against him, keeping him in place. “It would appear so,” he said and then did the same with his legs, trying to push them apart only to find that he could not.

                George, who had pulled the stool up alongside the makeshift bed, was once again scratching away in the new notebook. “Great, alright, Hermione, you can open your present.”

                He said it so innocently but it still made her blush. She refused to look Severus in the eye as she leaned over his body and took up the fancy bow in her hands. The scarf was wrapped so well around his crotch that he could have been raging in full on hardness or completely flat and she wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference. The thought that he could be sporting an erection made her body flush, little tingles shooting up through her loins and she was very glad that she was still wearing her robe. Tugging gently at either of the bow she watched as it slowly began to unravel, still keeping his arms bound and his legs together. She bit her lower lip in anticipation, again fascinated by the way the scarf moved all on its own, untangling from around his pelvis just enough to reveal his manhood.

                She licked her lips, a little less than subconsciously, noting that the texture of the scarf, or perhaps the prospect of being bound, had indeed been enough to give him a little rise. He wasn’t fully aroused as she’d seen and felt he could be, but it was enough and it thrilled her. Severus, however, remained as stoic as ever, eyes gazing upward at the ceiling. “Can you push free of the remaining wrapping now that I’ve freed you?” she asked, her voice a bit lower than she’d intended.

                He gazed at her curiously for a moment, lifting his head enough to catch her eye, and then shifted his arms, pulling them out easily from the unraveled scarf. “So it would seem.” Severus sat up, spreading his legs a bit, the scarf falling on either side of him and slowly beginning to shrink back to its original length. “Novel,” he muttered.

                “That’s really clever,” George said and then waved his hand in a circular gesture; one Hermione had come to understand meant continue. “There are three others?”

                “Yes, since we couldn’t find the red one,” she said and then picked up the black one. “I think we should try black next.”

                George nodded his head. Hermione picked up the yellow scarf and set it to the side, placing her hand on Severus’s shoulder. He didn’t flinch, but he didn’t brush her away either. While she didn’t think that the yellow ribbon had been particularly humiliating she couldn’t imagine that he was pleased with being the one splayed out. Though up to that point most of the test products had befallen her and after the atrocity with the spray can of fur she figured that a little embarrassment on his end wouldn’t kill him. Of course, in her mind she doubted very much if the man felt things like embarrassment, half the time she was convinced he didn’t feel anything at all. She tried not to think about the way he’d cracked under the pressures of her clenching anus and the chilly sensations of the clouds. A wicked notion of somehow combining the two flitted briefly into her mind before she dismissed it, intent to focus on the black scarf she now held in her hands.

                Taking the ends as she had with the yellow scarf she tugged the black one and it immediately shot out of her grip, splitting before her very eyes into four equally long black silk scarves. They were flying toward Severus at an alarming rate, swiveling tightly around each of his ankles and wrists. Once they had wrapped several times around his skin, creating a wide stripe of scarf effectively around each appendage they spun back and wrapped firmly around the makeshift four posters of the bed. Hermione stared, stunned as he was pulled into a semi-spread eagle position, arms stretched outward above his head and his legs now thoroughly parted.

                She watched him struggle, tugging first his left arm and then his right. “Oh my!” she cried. As he tried to pull himself free the scarves pulled his arm further out away from his body, dragging him closer to the posters to which he was now bound. His legs flailed for a moment, a bit more so than his arms, and a sharp intake of breath caught in her throat as she watched his legs draw wide apart, lifting his hips just slightly off the bed. “Stop— don’t struggle against them they might rip you in half,” she said, her voice a mingled cry of concern and deeply fascinated curiosity. While she didn’t want to see any harm befall him, the idea of seeing him so completely helpless in that moment was truly tempting.

                And it appeared that she wasn’t the only one turned on by it. She noted that his erection had gone from half hard to full rigidity and again she found herself licking her lips. He would not meet her eyes as she moved close to him, strain clearly written across his face. It appeared that the more they worked with in the workshop the more she was discovering about his repressed sexuality, and while she imagined he didn’t want her to know any of it, she was loving every minute of it.

                “They appear to restrain the target quite solidly,” his teeth were gritted as they had been when she’d been clenching on his cock and she could see the way his brow furrowed as he closed his eyes trying to draw in steady breaths, an attempt to regain his composure. “Now undo them.” His last command was barked and it surprised her all the more.

                “Are you in pain?” George asked. “Are they too tight?”

                Hermione raised her eyebrows up on her forehead, wondering if they in fact were too tight or if he would lie and say they were just to simply get out of his current predicament. She watched his eyes closely as he opened them, gazing right at her. “No, they are not too tight, Mr. Weasley, however, you’ve seen what they’re meant to do, I simply wish to move on.”

                Her eyes sparkled, as if to say well played, but she made no other indication that she had called his bluff. They didn’t look tight at all, and when she touched her fingers to his wrist twisting it slightly to the left and the right, it seemed to move just fine. She had no doubt that it was enchanted to keep him from breaking free, but after all silk scarves weren’t meant to be instruments of torture; at least not the physical kind. Hermione sat down just beside his chest, her thigh brushing against his armpit as she leaned over his left wrist and began to tug at the ribbon’s end, which was fastened to the bedpost. Her fingers slipped right off as if the scarf were suddenly made of grease. She frowned but rubbed her fingers on her robe before trying again only to find that she could not grip the scarf to save her life. “George, it won’t let me touch it to undo it.”

                She could have sworn she heard a grunt of disgust from Severus but when she turned her eyes to look down on his face he was once again staring blankly up at the ceiling. Hermione allowed herself a moment to simply take him in, letting her eyes rake down his body; the way the scarves had him spread making him look indeed both helpless and very hot. It sent a shiver up her spine which she tried to ignore. Leaning her head down over his body, her curls brushing against his neck she placed her lips just at his ear. “I have to say that this is a really attractive look for you,” she whispered. And then she blushed, pulling her head up, feeling horribly lewd for having confessed it to him.

                Though his eyes were wide he hardly seemed furious, or at least not any fury that she was familiar with or able to recognize. Despite her blushing cheeks she held his gaze and tried to read the feelings that were clearly swirling there, but her best efforts were no match for his practiced abilities at hiding them. Hermione hadn’t realized that the lapels of her robe had fallen open, one breast slightly exposed to his view, until she felt the heat of his gaze shifting. Whether he was staring to stare or staring so that she would notice her wardrobe malfunction she blushed harder simply because he was staring. But she did not make to right her robe, after all if he wanted to look away he could simply turn his head or close his eyes.

                “I can’t find anything in here about how to get them to release, Hermione, just use your wand, try a finite incantatem.” She had turned her head away from him to glance at George, who seemed puzzled, and when she’d looked back his eyes were closed, his chest rising with the slightest hint of unevenness, as if he were straining to draw regular breaths. Her thumb swiped at the microscopic bead of sweat that was trickling down his temple and she grinned when he flinched at her touch, unable to remain perfectly still. She rose from the bed, walked over to her traveling cloak and withdrew her wand. While seeing him splayed like that had been good fun they needed to move on and she was certain she would be getting an earful when they returned home. When they returned home, the thought echoed in her head sending little jolts of uncertainty mingled with terrifying pleasure up and down her spine.

                “Finite incantatem,” she said, swishing her wand in the general direction of the silks. But nothing happened. Hermione frowned. “Finite incantatem!” she tried again, this time with a more vigorous flicking of her wrist. Severus remained bound.

                “Brilliant,” he muttered, rolling his eyes.

                Hermione stuffed her wand into the pocket of her dressing robe and moved over to George, “Let me see that book.” She snatched it up from him without waiting for him to oblige her. Scanning over every inch of the page that had described the silks, she found nothing. With a frustrated grunt she flipped to the page with the buxom female drawn on it. “There, right there…George do you have a magnifying— oh nevermind,” she said, pointing to tiny white dots on the black bracelets that the sketched girl wore. Drawing her wand once more she waved it over the paper, making the image appear a good ten times its original size. “There, what does that say?” she asked, pointing to the little white dots, which were no longer dots but messy writing.

                George squinted at the page and twisted it to one side and then the other. “Bloody Fred and his bloody rubbish handwriting,” he muttered and then closed one eye as if that would help him see it more clearly. “Oh, it says release.”

                Hermione rolled her eyes and walked back over to the bed, sitting down once more by his side. While her fingers still could not touch the scarves, she pointed at them and narrowed her eyes. “Release.” She huffed with indignation when Severus snorted at her, the simple word failing to free him. “If you’ve a better idea—”

                “Try pointing with your wand instead of your fingers, Miss Granger.” He said with a smirk on his lips. Even though he was bound to the bed and completely restricted in his movement he was still one-upping her with his sarcastic biting tongue. It made her blood boil, which inside her already heated body was threatening to cause spontaneous combustion. A bitter grin crossed her lips before she drew her wand and pointed its tip at the scarf on his left wrist. “Release,” she said. But again nothing happened. “Oh my goodness this is annoying!” she huffed.

                Severus gazed at her with eyes that pierced her through. “Really, Miss Granger, exactly how annoying is it, for you?”

                She felt a little guilty after he’d spoken and then she sighed. “Just sit tight—” this earned her a patented eye roll as she stood from the bed. “We’re going to figure this out.”

                “One should hope so, Miss Granger. I do not fancy spending the rest of my life tied to a bed in this workshop.”

                His biting words incensed her but she thought about how miserable she had been when she’d found herself covered in fur. While her natural instincts were to panic and cry she had been thoroughly upset. It seemed that his nature was to revert to biting sarcasm and flippant words, a defense mechanism no doubt to hide several things, one of which being how strangely aroused he had become in the situation. Though she noted that since he’d stopped struggling with the scarves his erection had all but vanished. She pondered on this as she leaned over George’s shoulder looking into the ledger once more; perhaps he enjoyed being restrained, having someone else in control, though that seemed contradictory to every way in which she’d ever experienced him. She tucked those thoughts away in the back of her mind, determined to revisit them later.

                “George what on earth are we going to do?” she asked, scouring the page to see if there were any other hints. And then she saw it, she didn’t understand why she hadn’t noticed it before. “Oh god, he means it literally! The blighter!” she cried, and cupped her hand over her mouth sheepishly. Tilting her eyes upward to the ether she mumbled, “Sorry, Fred.”

                George looked at her with pure confusion swirling in his blue eyes. “What is it? He means what literally?” Hermione pointed to the drawing. While the right arm of the girl was raised as if she were waving at them, her left arm, which also bore the black bracelet with the mini letters printed on it, was twisted in front of her very exposed naked sex, fingers vanished from sight up inside of her quim. “Oh,” George said. “Oh!” She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him fully blush before, but something about seeing a sketch of a girl fingering herself made him turn beet red. “Oh boy,” he muttered and then shook his head. “Are you—”

                Hermione nodded her head. “I don’t think you’re the right man for the job, George,” she said with a twisted smile on her lips. “Though maybe to ease his mind over it, is there something else we can test from that position?”

                “I can still hear you talking!” Severus spat. “And I am not fond of the idea of testing something else while being stuck in my current predicament.”

                She moved back over to the bed and sank down into the mattress. It was not nearly as comfortable as the bed she had purchased in Diagon Alley, but that was the least of her concerns. “The only way to release you from this set of scarves is to let you be released,” she said. This didn’t seem to register right away or if it did he was choosing not to acknowledge her. “Physical release, Severus,” she cast her eyes down his body, lingering for a moment at his flaccid cock.

                He sighed. It was not the reaction she had imagined, but she supposed he was a rational man at the heart of it all and that he realized there would be little option otherwise. “Hence the product testing,” he said. Hermione nodded.

                “I just figured if we could proverbially kill two birds with one stone…”

                “Fine,” he said and then tilted his head away from her, closing his eyes.

                “George?” Anything?” she asked. She looked over at George, who was no longer seated on the stool but rummaging around in the chest of drawers. “Maybe a lubricant or a stimulant?” Hermione swallowed hard, praying silently that he wouldn’t suggest some product that involved providing him with oral pleasure. It was not something they had practiced and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to give him release without having practiced it.

                “This one should do the trick, I think,” George said, pushing the drawer shut. He walked over to the makeshift bed where Hermione was perched on the edge staring at him with apprehension in her eyes. “Don’t look so nervous, Hermione, it’s penis paint.” He grinned.

                “Merlin help me,” Severus muttered.

                She made to swat at him, her hand landing on his chest when she did. And she realized that it was a very familiar gesture. Had she become so familiar with him that slapping at him for his attitude felt acceptable? She wasn’t sure her mind agreed with that but her body had been quick to respond. Hermione refused to look at him, gazing intently at George, though she did not pull her hand back from his chest right away, knowing that he was bound and could not remove it himself. Her palm was flat against the center of his chest, her fingertips gently grazing the tiny pearl of his nipple. She could feel the light smattering of coarse hair that she knew dusted his chest now resting beneath her hand, and she could feel his heart beating. Not erratic but slightly faster than what she presumed was normal. The contact was delicious though she tried not to looked too pleased with herself as George read the instructions printed on the back of the tube.

                “Cosmic Penis Paint.” This made Hermione wrinkle her nose and she could only imagine the face that Severus was making. “Lubricating skin stain that will give your cock the rocket look that will send your partner out of this word.”

                “There is absolutely nothing appealing about that description,” said Severus. Hermione had let her hand slide down from his chest and it was now resting beside her on the bed as she eyed the tube in George’s hand. The tube itself was a deep blue color with little white dots all over it, the writing scrawled in gold across the back. She shrugged her shoulders and then looked back down at Severus. She took a mental picture, knowing that she may never again see the man bound and spread and completely naked and that it was simply too delicious a sight to forget.

                “Well, if it’s just a lubricant of sorts, I don’t see the harm,” Hermione said, taking the tube from George. The little screw-on cap was shaped like a star and came off quite easily in her hand. Squeezing a small squirt into her palm she nearly went cross-eyed staring at it. The lubricant reminded her of kiddie toothpaste; a bright blue with little flecks of white and gold suspended in the gel. “Alright, here goes,” she said and then stood from the bed. She curled her fingers over the paint so that as she slid out of her robe it didn’t smear and then she moved to kneel at the bottom of the bed. Hermione walked on her knees until she was nestled between his thighs, biting her lower lip nervously. With the paint in her hand she curled her fingers around the base but quickly let go as he hissed. “Are you alright?”

                “It’s cold,” he snarled, thrashing his head to the side. His legs were drawn apart a bit more as his body had jerked back when she’d touched him, his hips rising just a bit more off the bed. She could see everything. The way his balls, hairless thanks to the depilatory from day one, hung just below his cock, the smooth strip of skin that led back to his anus and Hermione swallowed hard, feeling her whole body ignite just looking at him. “What are you waiting for, Miss Granger?”

                His voice shook her from her reverie and she blushed furiously, hoping he hadn’t really noticed that she’d been staring. He was a wonderful specimen to stare at and she’d felt so much of him in so many different ways, it was impossible not to appreciate a proper glance. But she’d glanced long enough and needed to concentrate on applying the glob of paint that was now smeared in her hand. Once again she curled her fingers around the base of his shaft and noted that this time he did not hiss, though she supposed now that it had rested in her palm for a few seconds it had warmed somewhat. Hermione stroked her hand up his length, over the tip, and back down fully around him, spreading the paint with both her fingers and palm. When she released his cock she was surprised to find that neither her palm nor her fingers were stained with the coloring. Glancing at his cock she noticed that he was once again growing quite hard, but aside from that his length was a dark shade of blue spotted spontaneously with little white and gold stars. It was impossible not to laugh.

                Hermione pressed her lips together to keep the string of giggles that was threatening to occur from leaping out of her mouth. It would be rude at the very least if she started laughing. She imagined she had looked quite ridiculous covered in fur and with the various products that had been suited to her and never once had he laughed. But there was something quite hilarious about his rigid length looking like an obscurely shaped planet from a solar system model. She turned her head to George, clearing her throat before speaking. “Does it look alright?”

                George tilted his head sideways and shrugged. “I guess so, it actually looks a bit like the picture in the book.” It didn’t seem to surprise her that there was a picture in the ledger after what she had seen just flipping through a few of the pages. “Give it a taste, I don’t recall it saying anything about it being toxic.”

                “I should hope not,” Hermione muttered and then turned back to face Severus. He was once again staring straight up at the ceiling. His cock was fully hard; listing slightly to the left and looking a bit like a chunk of the night sky. She could feel the wave of icy terror sweeping up through her at the prospect of tasting him. Though it was only doing what she had done before, pressing her lips to his cock as she had when she’d tested the clouds and the tongue tinglers. He hadn’t asked her to fully perform oral sex so she tried to calm her nerves as she leaned over his pelvis. Her hair brushed his thighs though he didn’t react as she’d thought he might. “Ok…” she whispered to herself and then closed her eyes.

                The paint was slick as she pressed her lips against the underside of his shaft; even covered in paint his skin was heated. Hermione could feel her lips trembling as she parted them to press her tongue against his rigid length. The silky texture that she had felt before was replaced with an almost slippery feeling and he tasted a bit like plastic. She inched her lips upward, cresting over the tip of his cock, parting her lips to draw him ever so slightly into the heat of her mouth. His cock twitched as she closed her lips around him, swirling her tongue around the head for more of a taste. Pulling back her cheeks were flushed and she felt the red heat of embarrassment coursing through her body. “It tastes a bit like plastic, George,” her voice was heavy and breathy.

                “Well nobody wants to suck on plastic, have to make a note that it’s not intended for oral sex,” he said, scratching away at the ledger.

                “Right,” she swallowed and then looked at Severus. He was still stretched taut by the black scarves, his chest still heaving up and down though he wasn’t making a sound. His eyes were open, staring back at her and she bit her lower lip. “Let’s get you out of these scarves,” she whispered. Hermione crept forward, feeling the sticky heat between her legs, just seeing him as he was had apparently been enough to get her going; though if she were honest with herself being around him in their current circumstances was enough to keep her perpetually aroused. She was gentle as she climbed up over his thighs, not wanting to cause him any undue strain. Straddling his lap she gazed down into his eyes, their smoldering black heat making her quiver just the slightest.

                A loud buzzer filled the room, followed by a shrill cackle; the sounds being enough to startle her and she lost her balance, pitching forward and smashing down onto Severus’ chest. He grunted from beneath her, the wind pushed out of him from her sudden fall. “What in blazes was that?” she cried, trying to push herself up from his body.

                George sighed. “That’ll be the buzzer for the delivery dock outback.” Standing from the stool he closed the ledger. “Might be those new polymer bases I ordered for the whoopee cushions,” he shrugged his shoulders. “You two can go at it, I won’t be long,” he said and then skipped toward the door that led back down into the shop.

                Hermione closed her eyes as she resituated herself, lifting her hips as she gripped the base of his cock with one hand. Jolts of pleasure were already zinging through her and as she squeezed his shaft she sighed contentedly hearing the slight groan in the back of his throat. “You don’t have to be so restrained, you know,” she whispered, leaning over him once more.

                Bound to the bed and unable to move little more than his head he closed his eyes. “Would you just get on with it, Miss Granger,” he muttered, though she could tell he was struggling to maintain his composure.

                “Well I’d like to get on it, if you don’t mind,” she said, a rare smirk crossing her lips.

                “Cheeky witch,” he muttered and then hissed as she impaled herself on his rigid length. Initially her instinct was to panic and ask him if she’d hurt him but she was quickly growing accustomed to which sounds indicated pleasure and which indicated something else. Hermione shuddered feeling how full he once again felt inside of her, stretching her pulsating walls with his sheer size. Ronald had certainly been no comparison and she’d never made it past petting with clothes on when she’d been with Viktor. But she knew he was larger than what was likely considered normal, enormous by comparison to her previous lover. She could feel her walls clenching all around him; the second time in her life where she had been on top, technically the third if she counted the little experiment with the D2.

                “Do you intend to move or do you intend for me to do that as well?” His voice snapped her out of the delicious debate she was having in her mind. She realized in that moment that she was in completely control. That he was raging hard, she was impaled upon his pulsing rod of flesh and that there wasn’t a blessed thing he could do about it because of the enchanted scarves. She only wished that she knew more about teasing men with her body. Straightening up she arched back, rolling her hips up and down slightly, slow movements that made her pant and whimper as she did. The friction of having a man inside of her, and not just any man but the surly sardonic man who was currently beneath her; feeling him fill her while being completely in control of him, it was a heady sense that nearly made her dizzy with pleasure.

                And then she felt a tiny shock. “Oh!” she cried. It was a micro-zap that had touched her deep inside her loins, causing her to shudder and sway forward slightly. “Oooh…” she moaned feeling another much deeper pulse of tingling pleasure. “Oh it must be the stars…” she groaned, her hips undulating as she felt pulse after pulse, punctuated with the occasional zing of hot white electric pleasure. “Oh, Merlin…” she panted, and then forced her eyes open to gaze down into his.

                His lips were pressed tightly together forming a thin line and she realized that he must be feeling it too; the pulses and the zaps. “Can you…ooh!” she cried as she began to buck her hips in earnest, an erratic rhythm with wild abandon that left her feeling a little like she was riding a vibrator.

                “Yes,” he hissed, his voice as strained as his face looked.

                It was too delicious; too intense, and far too pleasurable. Hermione was glad for once that George wasn’t watching as she felt her control slipping away entirely. An overwhelming desire to touch him surged through her body and she couldn’t help herself as she began to rub her hands up and down his chest, leaning forward on her arms as she began to ride up and down on his throbbing cock. She was moaning; a reckless sound that swelled up from deep inside of her, each downward thrust sending more and more little zips and zaps of pleasure shooting up into her. The strangled noises he was making only encouraged her and while she desperately wished he would give up trying to restrain himself, she was too swept up in the pleasure of it to do anything more about it.

                She tossed her head back, her curls bouncing wildly down her neck and back as she rode him; the slick sound of her body slapping against his pelvis filling the workshop. Her hands were stroking him again, nails raking through the fine dusting of his chest hair, grazing over his nipples. Severus grunted when she touched his nipples with her nails, and she whimpered hearing that carnal sound. Again she raked her nails over the tiny little pebbles of his chest, watching through hooded lids as he ground his jaw trying to keep from expressing the sensations she was stirring within him.

                Hermione lost herself as more little pulses began shooting up into her, every rock of her hips driving her closer and closer to the edge of eruption. She was practically sobbing as she fell forward, hips still frantically riding up and down, her walls clenching furiously at him as an orgasm swept through her, surprising her with a blast of buzzing pleasure between her legs. Her lips fell against his neck, her breasts pressed down against his torso and her whole body began to quake. The cry that she heard was not her own and she felt him shudder; his cock trapped in her slick clenching heat, his own release triggered by her climax. Lips brushed against skin and then she was kissing him, so lost and swept up in the moment that she didn’t even realize it.

                He tasted so sweet; uniquely unlike anything she’d ever tasted before and her tongue swiveled against his as she moaned and shook. Arms wrapped around her back and she felt herself toppling over, her back sinking down into the mattress, the weight of his body atop her. Their bodies were still joined, his lips moving against hers and she whimpered feeling the heat from his chest bearing down on her breasts, his hair falling forward against her face.

                Severus pulled back, panting and completely out of breath, his eyes wild, almost frantic as they searched hers. She too was out of breath, trembling beneath him, clutching to him in a frightened fashion. And then he pulled away from her, sitting up and moving to the edge of the makeshift bed. Hermione was stunned. What had she just done? It was obvious that his release had freed him from his binds, but there had been a moment, hadn’t there? He rolling her off him and pinning her down, fervently returning her kiss. Or had he been trying to push her off and it had just felt like he had been reciprocating? Her head swam as she tried to think through it. Pulling herself upright she stood and quickly snatched up her robe, pulling it around her figure as she came to stand in front of him. “What just—”

                “Let it go, Miss Granger,” he whispered, his voice still not quite his own.

                Her eyes were wide and she made to protest but the sound of the workshop door swinging open halted her words. George had returned, several crates floating behind him. Her mind was jumbled with the incident. It was intimate, it was passionate, and she swore he had kissed her back. She couldn’t have been so caught up in the moment that she imagined the whole thing. He had returned her kiss, pinning her down beneath his delicious body; and that startled her.

                “How’d it go?” George asked, sending the crates to the far side of the workshop. “I see you made it out of the bindings, Severus, so that’s good. Need to make sure I mark that one clearly in the notes, do not use unless you intend to follow through,” he chuckled. “What about the Cosmic stuff?”

                Both Severus and Hermione stared at him for a moment. It was Severus that spoke. “It appears to have some sort of pulsing current enchanted into the formula.” And just like that he sounded normal. As if she hadn’t stolen away his breath, as if they hadn’t kissed, as if none of it had happened. Hermione was dumbfounded. “My guess would be it is designed to mimic shooting stars.” He gazed down into his lap noting that while the bluish coloring remained over his now flaccid cock, all of the little gold and white stars had vanished.

                “Right,” George said. He took a moment to rummage around and found the spray bottle and cloth he’d given them on day one. “This should take the blue off,” he said, tossing the bottle to Severus, who caught it midair. “Hermione, was it pleasant?”

                She shook her head, not sure she trusted her own voice. But after a moment’s breath she spoke. “It was extremely intense, but yes, pleasant. A little like zaps and zings of mild electricity— er mild zaps,” she said, wondering if George would know what a zing of electricity felt like. “Definitely something that will catch you off guard if you aren’t expecting it, but I think it brings climax about faster,” she said and then turned her eyes to Severus.

                He shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose so.”

                George was once again scribbling away in his notebook. “Great!” he said. “Did you guys want a break, I could order some dinner if you like, and then we can get back to the other two silks?”

                Hermione nodded her head. “I actually think I need the loo,” she walked toward George. “But I’m not hungry.”

                “Right, you can go up to the flat, it should be open. Severus, you hungry? I may order some food even if you two don’t want any.”

                Severus shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t require food, but the break isn’t a bad idea.” He did not move from the makeshift bed, though his legs were now crossed to keep his privates out of sight. “A recovery period will be necessary if either of the remaining scarves demand the sort of release this one did.”

                “Right,” said George. “Though we always have the Lustipops.” Severus made a face and George chuckled. “Or we can just wait it out a bit.”

                Hermione did not hear the rest of their conversation as she slipped up into George’s flat. Heaving a great sigh she leaned back against the door and slid down it to the floor. That had been an intense experience and her mind couldn’t push it to the back of her thoughts. He had kissed her back. And it wasn’t a case of teaching her as it had been the night he’d mocked her with that passionate kiss. His tongue had been in her mouth, touching her tongue. If he’d been trying to push her away he would have closed his lips even if she had forced her tongue in. She shook her head, she was sure of it. He had kissed her back. She very much dreaded the night ending because no doubt there would be a conversation once they returned to Spinner’s End.

                She had remained up in George’s flat for a good twenty minutes if his time piece kept accurate time. She’d splashed water on her face in an attempt to cool herself down and even rinsed off just to try and get the sensation of him out from between her legs. It didn’t help. Hermione was thankful that she had been on a birth control regimen long before she’d started the product testing; for as hard as he’d come in that last round she was certain he could have produced triplets. She had to stop thinking about it. It would not do to have another repeat with her throwing herself at him. Her mind kept going back to his words: let it go. He wanted her to forget it, or ignore it; perhaps pretend that it didn’t happen. But that was impossible. His tongue in her mouth and the way he’d pressed his body down on hers; just thinking about it wound her body up all over again. When she couldn’t find a rational excuse for staying in the flat any longer she made her way back down into the workshop, surprised to see Severus still on the bed, though he had donned his robe.

                “Feeling better?” George asked with a kind hearted smile.

                “Quite,” she said. “Just needed a bit of a lie down is all.” She hoped that her lie was not so transparent as to provoke more questions. It seemed to work as George motioned her back over to the makeshift bed.

                “Should we tackle green or purple next?” he asked.

                “Let me see the sketch again please.” Hermione leaned over his shoulder and looked into the ledger. The girl was wearing a green corset that appeared to be made out of ribbons. Perhaps that wouldn’t be so bad. She also wore purple garters. Though Hermione rationalized that the black scarf hadn’t exactly given Severus bracelets. “Um, I guess green would be safe,” she said with a weary glance over to Severus. He was sitting with his legs hanging down over the bed, the robe stopping just above his knee. She noted for the first time just how pale he truly was, his coarse black hair making his skin look almost snow white in the light.

                “Alright, tug away,” George said and settled into his stool prepared to watch and take notes.

                Hermione walked over to the bed and picked up the green scarf, holding it in her hands. She waited a moment for Severus to remove his robe and lie flat back before she tugged the ends. Unlike the black scarf, the green one slithered slowly down her fingers, moving toward his body, growing in length the way the yellow one had. At first it began to wrap itself around his torso, sliding easily under his body, around and around his flesh, slowly making his chest disappear from view. Hermione was convinced that he was going to end up in a corset until his arms became pinched to his sides, now tangled in the length of green silk. The intricate binding was making quick work of covering him like a mummy, earthy green silk covering him from his shoulders down to his knees. But then she realized not all of him was covered.

                Quite cleverly the scarf had woven its way around his legs in a fashion that lifted his balls and cock, leaving them as the only bit of flesh exposed to her eye. “Oh my…” she said and then perched on the edge of the bed. “I take it trying to break free of these yields the same as the other two?”

                Severus wriggled in the bindings, trying to no avail to part his legs or lift his arms. “It would appear so.”

                Hermione brushed her hand over his cock, feeling it twitch against her palm. “George?” she called to him. “I can touch this one,” she said gently tugging at the green scarf, sliding her hands under the loose binding to lay her palm flat against his pelvic bone. He was bound quite firmly but not so tightly that the scarf did not give with a simple bit of manipulation. “More for aesthetic effect, I think,” she said. Finding the end of the lengthy scarf she gently tugged on it and watched as it slowly began to unwind from around his body. “Fascinating,” she added.

                In just moment Severus was again naked on the bed, free of the green bindings. “Well that one seems like it might just be good fun,” George said making a note in his book. “Nothing terribly torturous about it, seems to come undone easily enough,” he shrugged. “Guess they can’t all be ridiculous,” he grinned. “Just the purple one left, right? Since we can’t find the red one?”

                “Right,” she said and picked up the purple silk. It had felt softer than the others if that were possible. Hermione gave it a tug on both ends and watched as it spiraled forth out of her hands, splitting into two lengths. Each of the two scarves wrapped around his thighs, pulling them wide, forcing his knees to bend upward as they drew his legs up to his arms. Wrapping and wrapping the scarves bound his knees to his elbows, leaving him spread wide with everything exposed. “Good lord…” she whispered, feeling flushed, watching once again as the silks seemed to spur on his erection. But the silks didn’t stop crawling along his skin once his arms were bound to his legs. He looked terribly apprehensive as he felt it creep along the side of his face, two thick swaths wrapping around his head, covering his eyes.

                Hermione bit her lower lips, feeling a pulsing between her thighs. The sight of him bound as he was and now blindfolded was even more tempting than when he had simply been bound in the spread eagle position.

                “Does that hurt, Severus, it looks like it’s putting you in a great deal of pain,” George asked, standing beside Hermione to examine the way it had bound him.

                Severus grunted. “It is not the most comfortable of positions but the scarves are not too tight nor are they cutting off circulation.” She could hear the telltale strain in his voice. Hermione couldn’t fathom how a reserved person such as he ever came to discover that bondage was his turn-on. And the more she thought about it, the less she wanted to know.

                “Can you see through it?” George asked.

                “No.”

                Hermione had expected a sarcastic comment, or at the very least a harsh response, but was surprised with his answer. She carefully lowered herself onto the bed at the foot of it, trying not to look as if she were staring at the way he was exposed. He was beautiful; something terribly devious and yet oh so sexy about seeing his balls, his cock, and his ass in that way. She jumped when she felt George’s hand on her shoulder. “Yes?” she said, turning to face him, face flushed.

                “If it’s alright with Severus, I think there is a product in one of the top drawers that we could test while he’s…well, for lack of better word, on display.”

                She noted the way Severus stiffened suddenly when George spoke, feeling the mattress shift just slightly. “Well, I’m alright with it if he’s alright with it.”

                At first he said nothing, and it drove Hermione crazy that she couldn’t see his eyes, though she knew even if she had been able to she wouldn’t have been able to read what was in them. “What is this mystery product, Mr. Weasley?”

                George had gone over to the chest of drawers, slid open the top most drawer and was walking back with a box in hand. “I wasn’t sure how to bring this one up, since it’s sort of pushing the line of fun and games, but…” he lifted the lid from the box. Hermione gazed inside and her eyes crinkled as she tried to discern what it was she was looking at. “Essentially Fred had designed a game, similar to target practice…” he pulled a thin series of rings from the box. “You line them up like a dart board almost,” he explained. “And then you throw these,” pinched between two fingers he plucked up little cylinders that had slightly rounded heads at the end. “They erupt on contact, nothing painful, so the notes say, and dissolve into little splatters of white colored chocolate cream…”

                Hermione nodded her head dumbly taking it all in. “Which the partner throwing would then lick up…right?” she asked, putting the bigger picture together in her head.

                “The rings are peppermint flavored, I think the idea is to make anilingus more enticing,” he blushed a bit when he spoke. Hermione felt her stomach twist tight in knots. This was not something she had considered. She had no experience as it was with her mouth in regards to sex, other than sloppy kisses. Biting her lower lip she tried not to seem terrified by the idea. Though she supposed given what she had learned of Severus’s sexuality, he might rather enjoy it. It didn’t get much more intimate than what George was suggesting and she figured they had gone that far already, a little farther couldn’t possibly make it any more awkward.

                She took the little dart-like cylinder from George’s fingers, closely examining the little head. She was about to touch it when George stopped her. “I think they erupt on contact,” he said.

                Hermione nodded her head. “Well, I should know if it’s palatable before we go testing them all, right?” she asked nervously. After a moment George nodded his head in agreement. With a press of her fingertip the little bulb did deflate, oozing thick white cream down its sides. The smell of chocolate filled the air. “Well it smells pleasant enough.” Catching a glob of the white cream on her finger she brought it to her lips and slowly sucked it into her mouth. It tasted exactly like chocolate only it wasn’t sticky as she had expected it to be. “Oh, actually that’s not bad. It’s almost like real chocolate. Only it’s not sticky.”

                “Right, well,” he said handing her the box. “The rings are meant to look like a target, the littlest one…” he trailed off blushing. It seemed that George, despite being openly homosexual, was embarrassed by the prospect of things related to anal sex. Or maybe it was that he found Severus attractive and having to watch her perform acts that he wished he could be performing made him blush. She didn’t know, but thinking about what she knew of Severus it made her smirk just the tiniest bit. Hermione thought she had recalled George saying that he did not find Severus attractive, though she wondered now if that had merely been a cover.

                Hermione moved over to the bed and sank down on it, still in her robe. She saw no reason to take her robe off for what lay ahead. “Are you ok with this?” she asked.

                Severus was silent for a long time, his erection still notably hard. “Do I have a choice?” he asked. “I’m bound at your mercy, Miss Granger.”

                “Oh, if you don’t want to we don’t have to I can tell George that you’re not—”

                “It’s something that we’re going to have to test eventually, might as well get it over with.”

                His words seemed so much sharper given that she could not see his eyes. But looking at his body bound as it was, fully on display, his eyes hidden behind the purple silk made her tremble. She was in complete control of him in that moment. Such power made her insides heat like a roaring inferno. Hermione couldn’t wrap her head around the notion that being in control was turning her on, even more so was the fact that she was in control of him. Was she discovering a dominant side to her sexuality? She wondered what it would be like to be dominated and that sent her spine tingling as well. Pressing her lips together she nodded her head, realizing after a moment that he most likely couldn’t hear her nodding. “Alright,” she said. It seemed a foolish gesture, taking her robe off, as he could neither see it nor would he really be able to tell, but something inside of her compelled her to even the playing field, even if it was just a little bit. He was still bound and she still had freedom of movement, the least she could do was be equally as naked.

                Hermione pulled the rings from the box. They were thin and rubbery, almost like licorice circles. The largest one looked as if it could easily span his entire underside while the smallest one looked as if it were just big enough to sit around his anus. She bit her lower lip. “Are you sure—”

                “Thank your lucky stars, Miss Granger, that I am a well prepared and cleanly man,” he paused and then sighed. “Let’s not pretend your hesitancy is for my sake.” His words made her shiver and bristle at the same time. She genuinely had been considered about how it would affect him, though she would be lying if she tried to deny that she hadn’t also thought of what he’d just mentioned. Feeling just the slightest bit indignant, she pressed both of her hands flat against the backs of his thighs right at his ass. Just feeling his skin was wonderful. She wasn’t sure why she had expected he would have cold flesh, for as much touching as she’d done of his body and as much as she’d felt his hands in the past few days she knew better, yet it was always a surprise to feel the heat radiating from him.

                It was a delicate process; placing each of the rings. She started with the smallest one, pressing it just around his anus, watching as she flinched but could not properly close his legs due to the bindings. A larger one left a good two inch gap between the first one and the second one and there was another gap between the middle ring and the largest. She was surprised at how easily they adhered to his skin, marveling at the way his thighs began to tremble when she traced her fingers around one of the rings. “Does it feel alright?”

                “Fine,” he hissed.

                Hermione grinned. He was straining his voice and she could see the way his jaw was jutted upward, desperately trying to restrict some guttural sound. “George, how far back should I be to try and throw these?” she asked, feeling a hint of blush creeping into her cheeks. It paled by comparison to how flushed he looked.

                “I don’t know, how good’s your aim?” he asked with a sheepish grin.

                He seemed eager to watch and Hermione was grateful that Severus’ eyes were closed. It was bad enough that she was about to embark on a totally new experience and George would see her making an ass of herself, no pun intended. She didn’t need Severus’ mockery to escalate the situation. There had been six of the little darts in the box but she’d ruptured one to taste it leaving only five. Not having spent much time in muggle pubs she knew she’d be dreadful at darts. They had a game similar to it in wizarding pubs, but the darts were enchanted and could easily be fixed, which essentially took the skill out of the game. And even then she hadn’t found the idea appealing. This was entirely new to her, conceptually, sexually, and all of the above.

                Biting her lower lip she scooted back to the edge of the bed and held the little dart between her fingers. It would have to travel about a foot or so to hit him. She figured she could manage that distance. She threw the little dart and bit her lip hard when it made contact with his body, cream erupting just below his balls. Severus had groaned, his body writhing for a moment before he settled down, unable to move much with the way he was bound. She licked her lips, it had been beautiful to watch him and she could easily see the appeal of this product to those that would buy it in tandem with the silky scarves. A thought crossed her mind and she was voicing it before she could help herself.

                “Do you intend to sell the scarves individually with a description of what they do? Or in one package? Personally I think making them a collector’s series…as certain ones, like this purple one, may be more suited for purchasing with other products…like these anal darts.”

                George’s nervous laughter made her blush. “Regardless of how I sell the scarves, we are not calling those things anal darts,” he said. “But I think I do like your idea of selling them individually, can racket the price up a bit and make more of a profit that way, especially if they’re sold suggestively with the intent of co-purchasing like you just mentioned.”

                Hermione nodded her head and then picked up a second dart. Her aim improved with her second shot, landing just off to the side of his anus, eliciting a strangled groan from his lips. The third dart landed just opposite, so close to the center of the target that it brought forth another groan from him. It was exciting, she couldn’t deny how very wet she was getting and it took all the self control she possessed not to give up with the darts and simply straddle him again. The idea of riding him whilst he was so fully exposed with the scarves serving double duty as a blindfold made her loins burn and she subtly tried to rub her thighs together for just the slightest bit of friction. Her fourth dart landed far off and up on his torso.

                “Your aim is dreadful,” he spat through clenched teeth.

                Gripping the tip of the last dart she jabbed it forward, poking it gently against his anus rather than throwing it. Her trick achieved the desired result and a low moan escaped his lips, his cock jerking violently. She was pleased with herself, if a bit nervous as she realized she was now meant to taste her markings. Again she bit her lower lip, worrying it between her teeth. The smell of chocolate was bountiful but there was something else; that heady scent of his body that she had experienced when she’d pressed her lips to him the day before when they’d tested the clouds. It made her dizzy as she inhaled and leaned her head downward, taking just a brief moment to pull her hair back with an enchantment.

                Boldly crossing a new frontier, Hermione’s lips pressed delicately against the flesh of his balls, letting her tongue glide below them to where the first dart had erupted. Chocolate and musk and masculinity invaded her mouth and she was in ecstasy. But her pleasure seemed remote and unimpressive compared to the way his body jerked at the slightest touch of her mouth. His balls tightened, the skin on his sac drawing taut as she laved her tongue up and down their underside until she’d licked up all of the white cream. He was panting heavily, his breaths ragged and uneven and she reveled in knowing that she was undoing him one slow lick at a time.

                This sensation of giving him pleasure enough to break him seemed to encourage her and she boldly drew her tongue down across his cheek, quite close to his anus without actually touching him. The rubbery rings did indeed taste minty, mingling with the chocolate in her mouth for a pleasant combination. Hermione shifted her body so that she was laying on her side across the bed, giving her a better angle for her neck as she began to mouth little kisses all around the large ring, tracing her tongue along its outline. Severus was jerking and trembling, unable to help himself. Between the way his muscles were bound and the pleasure she was providing she imagined he was strung so tightly that a proper squeeze of his cock would be enough to set him off like a rocket. But she resisted the urge and continued her little game, slowly licking her way across the gap between the large outer ring and the smaller middle ring. His skin was salty; musky and heady and it made her moan in the back of her throat, the sound buried against his flesh as she began to lick at the cream from the second and third exploded dot.

                Severus’s thighs were trembling and she could see the strain as his muscles quivered, the way each swipe of her tongue caused him to jerk, bucking his hips forward against her face. It pleased her more than she could describe to witness him losing control. Hermione dragged her lips around the tiny ring very careful not to actually touch his anus the first lap around. She could feel him straining, everything about him rigid and tense, but she had long since stopped worrying about whether not it was painful. If his raging cock with its weeping tip was any indication he was experiencing pleasure tenfold.

                Her tongue pressed against his anus and she flattened it, drawing it in a slow motion upward to taste the chocolate cream from the dart. His whole body spasmed; bucking harder than she’d ever felt it and an actual cry, deep and throaty, was pulled from his lips. She licked him again, his body responding with another violent twisting motion, his feet arching upward. She could feel his balls tightening, his sac drawing up away from her face and she realized that he was on the edge of coming. Hermione was bold as she placed her thumb where her tongue had been, circling his anus and rubbing the little bit of chocolate cream that remained into the taut ring of muscles with a hint of pressure. Her lips parted and closed around the weeping head of his cock and he cried out.

                The jerking spasms of his cock were more than she had expected but somehow she managed to keep his cock in her mouth between her lips as he erupted. A blast of hot cum filled her mouth, spurting and gushing against her tongue and the back of her throat. It seemed endless; his cock still twitching in her mouth, filling her mouth, giving her no choice but to swallow him back. Hermione swirled her tongue around the head of his cock, catching more of his seed until finally it seemed to stop coming. She swallowed again and then pulled her head back, flushed and out of breath. His face was twisted in what appeared to be anguish but she knew better, despite not being able to see his eyes.

                Remembering where they were she quickly glanced over at George, who had his head all but buried in the ledger book, writing so fast that little sprays of red ink were flying everywhere. Hermione was trembling, her thighs quaking as she leaned up over his body, her lips resting near his ear. “You tasted so bitter…and yet so sweet.”

                “Untie me,” he panted, his breath stolen from him in the great cry that she’d pulled from his lips with her sudden decision to take him in her mouth.

                Realizing that his muscles must have been putting his body in a permanent flux between pleasure and pain she quickly drew her wand and tapped the purple scarf. Immediately it unwound from around his eyes and then released his thighs, coiling back into one length of fabric before falling limp against his knees on the bed. Severus groaned as he unbent his legs and straightened them. Hermione was quick with her wand, using a simple cleansing charm to clean up the remainder of the little dart game, rings and all. “George, I think marketed together it’s a brilliant product,” she said.

                “I’ll say,” he said without looking up. She imagined that if he had looked up his face would have been as red as his hair. “I think— I think that’s enough for tonight, we got a lot accomplished. The paint, the target, and those four scarves, plus the D2…you both must be exhausted.” Severus said nothing, though Hermione was not surprised. “Take tomorrow off, it’s Saturday anyhow and I’m sure after spending all day at the shop while its open the last thing I’m going to want to do is stay late. Plus I need some time to tinker with the sleeve on the D2 and sort some more of the products…as I meander through the workshop I keep finding things that I hadn’t before.”

                “Alright,” Hermione said, standing from the bed. Severus was two steps ahead of her, already at the hook putting his clothes on. She smiled politely at George. “I hope if you launch the nipple creams tomorrow that they go well.”

                “Me too,” he said with a smile as he lifted his head from the ledger, some natural color having returned to his cheeks. “Here,” he said handing her two satchels of coins. “Give Severus his,” he nodded in the direction of the door. Severus was through it and gone from the workshop.

                Hermione dressed quickly but not quickly enough. She was down on the street and there was no sign of him. She was sure he’d apparated straight back to Spinner’s End so she did the same. She had half expected the house to be locked and for him to refuse her entry when she pushed on the door, but to her surprise it was open. He was nowhere in sight and when she moved down the hallway to where their bedrooms were his door was shut. She sighed and settled for leaving his satchel of payment on the kitchen table.

                Her nightly routine did not take her long and she hadn’t even bothered to see what time it was when she’d finished brushing her teeth in their shared bathroom. She would have to ask him if it were alright to keep some of her toiletries in the enchanted medicine cabinet as she felt a little silly toting her toothbrush, toothpaste and things of the like back and forth to the bathroom. Once in her nightgown she sat on the edge of her bed feeling awkward about the way he’d so abruptly left. Had he been humiliated to lose control? His body had certainly enjoyed it. Had it offended him that she’d wanted to take him in her mouth, or was it her comment that put him off? It was impossible to say. And after a good deal of mulling it over she rose from her bed and stepped out into the hallway. She raised her hand to knock on his bedroom door but his voice froze her midair.

                “Go away, Miss Granger.” Baffled that he had heard her before she’d even knocked she was about to speak when he spoke again. “Your traipsing up and down the hallway is akin to a hippo attempting to jetè, try to be quieter when moving about.”

                She narrowed her eyes at the door; all thoughts of his humiliation, his pleasure, and their shared kiss temporarily swept away in her anger. Surprised to find that his door was not locked she pushed her way into his bedroom. He was seated on his bed, wearing a long black dressing robe that was tied firmly around the middle. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him.

                “Apparently go away are not words you’re familiar with,” he rolled his eyes. “What do you want?”

                “Well I had meant to apologize but after you were so rude just now I don’t suppose I feel like it.”

                He snorted. “Apologize for what, Miss Granger?”

                She faltered at his question. A frown creased her lips. “I…” She sighed. “May I sit down?”

                Severus rolled his eyes again. “Must you?”

                She stepped over to the bed and gently sank down beside him, her thigh brushing his. He did not make to pull away from her though she supposed doing so would have pushed him off the end of the bed. Hermione hung her head. “I don’t know what came over me.”

                “Miss Granger, what are you talking about?” he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

                “This evening…I…and then you…” but she trailed off. She honestly had no idea what to say. Or even where to start. The kiss had been one thing, but then there was something else entirely going on when she had started with her tongue in his most intimate place. She sighed again. “I just, I feel like I ought to apologize. For lots of things, I’m just not really sure where to start.”

                He did not turn his head to look at her, his face staring at the empty wall. “I don’t believe you have anything to apologize for unless you’ve done me some harm that I’ve yet to know of.”

                He was either speaking in riddles again or being flip. Though his tone lacked what she considered his ‘flippant voice’ and so once again she found herself perplexed. Hermione’s hands were on her knees, squeezing her kneecaps as if she might divine some answer from doing so. “I just—” she bit her lower lip and then gave in. “That kiss…I don’t know. And then you were…losing it, and I…I don’t know.”

                Severus was silent for a long while. “You think too much on things, Miss Granger.” He said finally.

                This did not quell her nerves. She shifted her hand over from her kneecap to the top of his thigh just above his knee but quickly pulled it back when he flinched at her touch. “Sorry,” she muttered.

                “Do not mistake yourself,” he said, turning his head to face her. She could see worlds of hidden unreadable emotions swirling in his eyes but dared not to speak while he was speaking. “This is a job—”

                “That kiss was no job, Severus.” Her voice was laced with her temper, which she was quickly losing. It was one thing for him to be cross over humiliating him, though even that she was beginning to doubt as she wasn’t sure he had felt humiliated at all. But to throw it to her that she was out of line in their job after he had kissed her, granted he had returned the kiss that she had initiated, it irked her.

                “No it was not,” he said. She heard something in his voice that she couldn’t place. Was it doubt? Or anguish? It was impossible to tell but she what she hadn’t heard was anger, or resentment or his classic sarcasm that seemed to bite at her as much as the day was long. His simple response, just four words, only threw her further into the confusion of the situation.

                “But you—” she stopped herself and drew in a breath. “You returned that kiss. Even if I started it, which I admit, I must have, but you…you definitely returned it.”

                There was a long pause once again and she felt herself nervously tapping her toe on the hardwood floor of his bedroom. “It was a moment, Miss Granger. I believe you’ll find you were as caught up in it as I.”

                She had been prepared to protest, but she hadn’t been prepared for that. Was that all it had been? Being caught up in the moment? Extreme pleasure with their hormones raging like randy teenagers and so the natural thing to do had been to snog passionately? She could feel her tight constricting and her face burning a bright red. Once again she’d somehow created a situation when there was a logical and rational explanation to the fantastical nonsense she’d built up in her head. Hermione stood from his bed. “Well, that I guess I’m apologizing for being caught up in a moment then,” she said, not able to look at him.

                “As I said before, I do not believe you have any reason to apologize, you certainly won’t be hearing one from me.”

                She refused to storm out of his room. If he was trying to make her angry or hurt her, he was succeeding but she wasn’t going to let him get the better of her. Hermione simply nodded, hugged her arms around herself and then caught his eyes with her own. “Well, goodnight then,” she said and then walked slowly out of his room, across the hall and into her own. Pulling the door shut behind her she collapsed onto her bed and felt the trembling of her heaving breast as it pressed down into the mattress. Hermione cried, unable to stop the tears as she realized what a fool she’d made of herself. She cried herself to sleep.

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