Daydream Charm? Ch. 5
I don't own anything!
Chapter 5
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything!
It was the annoying pinging noise that woke her up. Trying to ignore the periodic sharp rattles that were disturbing her slumber, Hermione simply pulled her comforter up over her head, attempting to snuggle back into sleep. It was not to be though, and the noise continued to penetrate her warm nest of covers, insistent on drawing her out of bed.
Hermione grudgingly emerged, glancing over to see that Ginny was still fast asleep. The lucky girl had inherited the Weasley talent for sleeping through a tornado. Looking around the room, Hermione saw only the deep darkness that meant it was sometime in the middle of the night. Another sharp crack drew her attention to the window, and, with a firm grip on her wand, she stealthily crept over.
Keeping her head low, she gazed into the inky black night, trying to make out shapes in the darkness. There was a low light coming through the kitchen windows, and she could just make out the silhouette of a man, who was engaged in tossing stones from the garden at her window.
Immediately guessing that this was Fred, Hermione lit her wand with a quick Lumos, alerting him to her wakefulness, and presence at the window. Fred made a series of elaborate motions with his hands that served only to confuse Hermione, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw a silvery shape spill out of his wand and fly up to her. The Patronus, shaped like a large dog, pranced around her in a playful manner before whispering “Come down!,” in her ear. Nodding so that Fred could see her through the window, she grabbed her Chinese silk robe, an indulgence that she did not share with many people, belted it loosely over her tank top and cotton shorts, and slipped out of Ginny’s bedroom.
Hermione quietly made her way down the creaky old stairs and breathed a sigh of relief when she made it to the kitchen. The banked fire gave off a comforting light and warmth that was not unwelcome despite the balmy breeze coming in from the open windows. Deciding that she didn’t have enough time to make a quick cup of tea, she eased the door to the garden open, and stepped into the shadow filled garden.
She was immediately swept up into a bear hug that could only come from a Weasley, and Fred lifted her off her feet, twirling her about as if she weighed nothing. Giggling she returned the embrace, melting against him when she felt her feet steady on the ground again.
“Not that I don’t enjoy being greeted this way, but what are you doing?” She asked, her head nestled against his chest. “It’s the middle of the night and you woke me up. I happened to be having a glorious dream.”
“About me I hope.” He murmured, resting his chin on the top of her head. She loved how she fit perfectly against him when they stood like this, although she was working on a slight levitation charm so that he wouldn’t have to strain his neck so much when he bent to kiss her.
“Well,” she began in a syrupy sweet tone that rarely came out of her mouth. “I was walking alone in an enchanted forest, moonlight filtering through and lighting up fairy glades and listening to the songs of nymphs and sprites, when a knight in shining armor swept me off my feet. We were about to gallop off to his castle and live happily ever!” She gushed.
Fred snorted disbelievingly and stepped back slightly so he could look at her face. She grinned up at him and he very slowly brought his head down to hers. She closed her eyes, and tiled her head up a bit, waiting for his kiss.
“Okay Lavender,” he said an inch from her ear.
Hermione’s honey brown eyes snapped open in fury and she let out an enraged shriek at his outrageous comment. Fred was quicker than her however, and darted out of her arms, running toward the Burrow’s ragged orchard. Hermione chased after him, robe flying out behind her and a stream of disparagement falling from her lips. She was losing ground however, and had to slow as she neared the edge of the trees fearing she would hurt herself on low lying branches and sharp twigs. She continued forward but was suddenly jerked back by her robe. Hermione turned around to see that her beautiful robe was twisted and caught around a rather frightening tree branch. She tugged at it gently, and the fabric did not give an inch. Why, she thought furiously to herself, did she leave her wand in the bedroom? Drat!
“Fred!,” she whisper shrieked, “Come out here now! I don’t have my wand and I’m stuck!” Not to mention a little spooked by her surrounds. Although she had spent many summer weeks exploring the Burrow’s grounds, a barely tended orchard in the dead of night was not the most calming location to be stuck in. The moon shone through the latticework of branches above her, but its comforting light was cancelled out by the random rustlings of branches around her and the small animal sounds that always permeated a bit of woods. “Fred!” She yelled a little louder this time, letting her fears get the better of her.
“Hermione! Sorry love, I didn’t realize you’d gotten stuck!” Fred appeared by her side, and set to work on freeing her from the branch’s grasp. Only after she was released and jumped into his arms did he notice that she had been spooked. “No,” he said in disbelief. “No way the fearless and brave Hermione Granger, the most brilliant witch of the age, was scared in the crappiest orchard of trees in Britain?”
“I didn’t have my wand!” Hermione snapped back, punctuating her remark with a sharp shove to Fred’s chest. He tried to balance by grabbing her shoulders and the pair of them tumbled to the ground. Hermione felt her breath leave her in a whoosh and realized Fred had had it worse as she was now lying on top of the rather breathless Weasley twin.
He coughed a few times and wheezed. “Well I had planned on us getting into this position at some point this evening…” He gasped out a laugh, and the pair struggled to sit up. Fred backed himself up against a tree and settled Hermione in the space between his legs. She snuggled back contentedly and waited for her heart to stop pounding, and her breathing to return to normal. After a few minutes she turned in Fred’s arms, conscious of the slither of the patterned silk across her shoulders. She grew bolder from the sensation, and knelt before him, watching his pupils dilate in the moonlight.
“Not so scared any more, eh Hermione?” She answered him by pressing her lips against his, and pushing her body flush against him. She felt his arms slide around her, caressing her back, and pulling her even closer to him. She felt a rumble of pleasure reverberate through his chest and into hers and shivered at the feeling. His tongue snuck into her mouth and she shivered anew. They simply kissed for a long time, leisurely, slowly, just enjoying the intimacy, the connection in the deserted orchard.
After a while Fred moved his lips down the side of her neck, changing the tenor or their embrace as he trailed fire over her skin. Hermione made a sort of strangled moan and dropped her head back allowing him better access. One of his arms snaked up her back, his hand cradling her head as he ministered to her neck. He knelt himself, and laid her down on the grass at the base of their apple tree, lips never stopping their assault on her senses.
Hermione could do nothing more than make inarticulate sounds and flutter her eyelashes in an attempt to open them. She managed to drag them open when Fred’s lips left her skin. She opened her mouth to protest and saw her love reverently untying the sash to her robe, brow furrowed in anticipation as he unwrapped her. With a satisfied smile, she laid her head back down on the grass and was rewarded when she felt his warm hands caressing her through the thin cotton of her sleeping shirt, the only barrier between their skins. He propped himself up next to her, bodies laying side by side as he paid homage to her breasts. With a light pressure he squeezed, and watched in delight as her satiny skin strained the thin fabric and low neckline of her tank. She grinned in delight as he pounced on her, reveling in the feel of his weight now on top of her, where he belonged. With his hands trapped between them, rolling and molding her breasts at his pleasure, she thrust her hands into his hair and pulled his mouth back down to hers. Before their lips met, she met his piercing blue gaze with her own golden one and the pure heat she saw there made her gasp. He ruthlessly took her mouth, plundering it to its depths, and Hermione answered him with everything in her. She wrapped her legs around him, trying to squeeze every last bit of space between them away, and was rewarded with the feel of his desire rampant against her.
She ground her hips against him and it was the work of a minute for him to magically divest them of their clothes and mutter a contraception spell. The feel of the magic sinking into her abdomen added to the champagne feeling already there, and as Fred thrust into her, Hermione felt the bubbles begin to coalesce into the wonder that he always brought her. Perhaps it was the moonlight, perhaps it was the release of her momentary fear, but their coupling was swift and wild, tension mounting quickly before it exploded into a glorious sunburst. With cries of abandon, the couple found their bliss together, collapsing under the leafy canopy of their apple tree.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fred was frantic. There really was no other way to describe it. He had no idea how Hermione, or anyone, for that matter, would react to that much of the daydream potion. Sure he and George had tested things, but there had been a reason they only had the charms last half an hour! And if he damaged Hermione Granger, Hermione, the smartest witch Hogwarts had seen in ages, the girl who had been the mastermind behind Harry’s saving the world, well he might as well just snap his wand now.
He groaned again as he looked at the girl he had moved to the couch. He had put pillows under he head and feet, an ice pack on her brow and had done what he thought was chafing to her wrists. But nothing had revived her at all. She hadn’t made a sound since she had gulped down the vial of daydream potion. She was sweating despite the ice pack, and would periodically thrash around. When that happened Fred would hold her down, throwing his body down on hers so that she wouldn’t fall off the couch or hurt herself even more. And when she finally stilled, Fred would breathe a sigh of relief and cautiously lift himself off of her, peering anxiously at her troubled face, ready to spring back into position if, and when, she started off again.
After a particularly bad thrashing fit, Fred panicked and sent his Patronus after George, only having time to scream SOS to the silvery dog before he had to tend to Hermione again. He desperately wanted to Floo call his mother or St. Mungo’s but was too afraid to leave Hermione’s side for more than a moment.
As he looked down at her nervously, waiting for her to start writhing again, he started to notice, not for the first time that day, that Hermione really was quite pretty. Even now, when he was scared to death that he might have turned her into a vegetable, he couldn’t help but stare at her face, her full mouth, delicate brows and a chin that looked stubborn even when she was unconscious. And then that body! Fred didn’t know how he had missed that at school, maybe it was a more recent development, or she had just been hiding it under knobbly woolen knee socks and Hogwarts robes? Regardless, Hermione had turned into a deliciously curved young woman, and her current summer attire, shorts and a rather pretty t-shirt of a wonderfully thin and clingy material, did nothing to hide that. In fact….
NO! Fred thought. You probably just poisoned this girl and all you can do is stare at her perfectly outlined and oh so luscious NO! Damn it! Fred began to pull his hair out in frustration. Focus Weasley! Focus!
Then he heard the first sound Hermione had made in what had to be almost two hours. It sounded like a groan and Fred hurriedly knelt by her face, cradling it in his hands, willing her to come back “Hermione! Hermione! Wake up. Please wake up!”
Hermione only groaned again, and began to move again. Only this time, she was more wriggling than thrashing. Fred found that his eyes were drawn southward to her impressive chest yet again. She moaned, and her mouth stayed open. Fred yanked his eyes back up to her face, fascinated by her open mouth. The sounds coming out of her didn’t sound like they were that painful, in fact he could have sworn they were moans of an entirely different nature.
That enticing sound issued forth from Hermione’s generous mouth again, this time accompanied by a most interesting undulation that thrust her hips up off the couch and made her generous assets bounce in a movement that utterly enthralled Fred. The moans began coming more and more frequently, and that delightful action along with it much to Fred’s delight. He knelt near her head spellbound at what was arguably the sexiest thing he had ever seen in his life. He felt all the blood rush to his groin, painfully aroused at the nymph on the couch. He let out a moan himself when hers started to crescendo. And then he heard a word that both relieved his concern over Hermione’s health and ratcheted the tension in his body up to unprecedented levels. With a final shudder and jiggle of her glorious breasts, Hermione nearly sat up and yelled “FRED!” and collapsed back onto the couch in a boneless slump, a catlike smile of satisfaction crossing gracing her lips.
With the trademark Weasley smirk on his own face, Fred sent a new Patronus message to George telling him not to worry, unbuttoned his now very tight trousers and settled back to enjoy the show.
Chapter 5
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything!
It was the annoying pinging noise that woke her up. Trying to ignore the periodic sharp rattles that were disturbing her slumber, Hermione simply pulled her comforter up over her head, attempting to snuggle back into sleep. It was not to be though, and the noise continued to penetrate her warm nest of covers, insistent on drawing her out of bed.
Hermione grudgingly emerged, glancing over to see that Ginny was still fast asleep. The lucky girl had inherited the Weasley talent for sleeping through a tornado. Looking around the room, Hermione saw only the deep darkness that meant it was sometime in the middle of the night. Another sharp crack drew her attention to the window, and, with a firm grip on her wand, she stealthily crept over.
Keeping her head low, she gazed into the inky black night, trying to make out shapes in the darkness. There was a low light coming through the kitchen windows, and she could just make out the silhouette of a man, who was engaged in tossing stones from the garden at her window.
Immediately guessing that this was Fred, Hermione lit her wand with a quick Lumos, alerting him to her wakefulness, and presence at the window. Fred made a series of elaborate motions with his hands that served only to confuse Hermione, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw a silvery shape spill out of his wand and fly up to her. The Patronus, shaped like a large dog, pranced around her in a playful manner before whispering “Come down!,” in her ear. Nodding so that Fred could see her through the window, she grabbed her Chinese silk robe, an indulgence that she did not share with many people, belted it loosely over her tank top and cotton shorts, and slipped out of Ginny’s bedroom.
Hermione quietly made her way down the creaky old stairs and breathed a sigh of relief when she made it to the kitchen. The banked fire gave off a comforting light and warmth that was not unwelcome despite the balmy breeze coming in from the open windows. Deciding that she didn’t have enough time to make a quick cup of tea, she eased the door to the garden open, and stepped into the shadow filled garden.
She was immediately swept up into a bear hug that could only come from a Weasley, and Fred lifted her off her feet, twirling her about as if she weighed nothing. Giggling she returned the embrace, melting against him when she felt her feet steady on the ground again.
“Not that I don’t enjoy being greeted this way, but what are you doing?” She asked, her head nestled against his chest. “It’s the middle of the night and you woke me up. I happened to be having a glorious dream.”
“About me I hope.” He murmured, resting his chin on the top of her head. She loved how she fit perfectly against him when they stood like this, although she was working on a slight levitation charm so that he wouldn’t have to strain his neck so much when he bent to kiss her.
“Well,” she began in a syrupy sweet tone that rarely came out of her mouth. “I was walking alone in an enchanted forest, moonlight filtering through and lighting up fairy glades and listening to the songs of nymphs and sprites, when a knight in shining armor swept me off my feet. We were about to gallop off to his castle and live happily ever!” She gushed.
Fred snorted disbelievingly and stepped back slightly so he could look at her face. She grinned up at him and he very slowly brought his head down to hers. She closed her eyes, and tiled her head up a bit, waiting for his kiss.
“Okay Lavender,” he said an inch from her ear.
Hermione’s honey brown eyes snapped open in fury and she let out an enraged shriek at his outrageous comment. Fred was quicker than her however, and darted out of her arms, running toward the Burrow’s ragged orchard. Hermione chased after him, robe flying out behind her and a stream of disparagement falling from her lips. She was losing ground however, and had to slow as she neared the edge of the trees fearing she would hurt herself on low lying branches and sharp twigs. She continued forward but was suddenly jerked back by her robe. Hermione turned around to see that her beautiful robe was twisted and caught around a rather frightening tree branch. She tugged at it gently, and the fabric did not give an inch. Why, she thought furiously to herself, did she leave her wand in the bedroom? Drat!
“Fred!,” she whisper shrieked, “Come out here now! I don’t have my wand and I’m stuck!” Not to mention a little spooked by her surrounds. Although she had spent many summer weeks exploring the Burrow’s grounds, a barely tended orchard in the dead of night was not the most calming location to be stuck in. The moon shone through the latticework of branches above her, but its comforting light was cancelled out by the random rustlings of branches around her and the small animal sounds that always permeated a bit of woods. “Fred!” She yelled a little louder this time, letting her fears get the better of her.
“Hermione! Sorry love, I didn’t realize you’d gotten stuck!” Fred appeared by her side, and set to work on freeing her from the branch’s grasp. Only after she was released and jumped into his arms did he notice that she had been spooked. “No,” he said in disbelief. “No way the fearless and brave Hermione Granger, the most brilliant witch of the age, was scared in the crappiest orchard of trees in Britain?”
“I didn’t have my wand!” Hermione snapped back, punctuating her remark with a sharp shove to Fred’s chest. He tried to balance by grabbing her shoulders and the pair of them tumbled to the ground. Hermione felt her breath leave her in a whoosh and realized Fred had had it worse as she was now lying on top of the rather breathless Weasley twin.
He coughed a few times and wheezed. “Well I had planned on us getting into this position at some point this evening…” He gasped out a laugh, and the pair struggled to sit up. Fred backed himself up against a tree and settled Hermione in the space between his legs. She snuggled back contentedly and waited for her heart to stop pounding, and her breathing to return to normal. After a few minutes she turned in Fred’s arms, conscious of the slither of the patterned silk across her shoulders. She grew bolder from the sensation, and knelt before him, watching his pupils dilate in the moonlight.
“Not so scared any more, eh Hermione?” She answered him by pressing her lips against his, and pushing her body flush against him. She felt his arms slide around her, caressing her back, and pulling her even closer to him. She felt a rumble of pleasure reverberate through his chest and into hers and shivered at the feeling. His tongue snuck into her mouth and she shivered anew. They simply kissed for a long time, leisurely, slowly, just enjoying the intimacy, the connection in the deserted orchard.
After a while Fred moved his lips down the side of her neck, changing the tenor or their embrace as he trailed fire over her skin. Hermione made a sort of strangled moan and dropped her head back allowing him better access. One of his arms snaked up her back, his hand cradling her head as he ministered to her neck. He knelt himself, and laid her down on the grass at the base of their apple tree, lips never stopping their assault on her senses.
Hermione could do nothing more than make inarticulate sounds and flutter her eyelashes in an attempt to open them. She managed to drag them open when Fred’s lips left her skin. She opened her mouth to protest and saw her love reverently untying the sash to her robe, brow furrowed in anticipation as he unwrapped her. With a satisfied smile, she laid her head back down on the grass and was rewarded when she felt his warm hands caressing her through the thin cotton of her sleeping shirt, the only barrier between their skins. He propped himself up next to her, bodies laying side by side as he paid homage to her breasts. With a light pressure he squeezed, and watched in delight as her satiny skin strained the thin fabric and low neckline of her tank. She grinned in delight as he pounced on her, reveling in the feel of his weight now on top of her, where he belonged. With his hands trapped between them, rolling and molding her breasts at his pleasure, she thrust her hands into his hair and pulled his mouth back down to hers. Before their lips met, she met his piercing blue gaze with her own golden one and the pure heat she saw there made her gasp. He ruthlessly took her mouth, plundering it to its depths, and Hermione answered him with everything in her. She wrapped her legs around him, trying to squeeze every last bit of space between them away, and was rewarded with the feel of his desire rampant against her.
She ground her hips against him and it was the work of a minute for him to magically divest them of their clothes and mutter a contraception spell. The feel of the magic sinking into her abdomen added to the champagne feeling already there, and as Fred thrust into her, Hermione felt the bubbles begin to coalesce into the wonder that he always brought her. Perhaps it was the moonlight, perhaps it was the release of her momentary fear, but their coupling was swift and wild, tension mounting quickly before it exploded into a glorious sunburst. With cries of abandon, the couple found their bliss together, collapsing under the leafy canopy of their apple tree.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fred was frantic. There really was no other way to describe it. He had no idea how Hermione, or anyone, for that matter, would react to that much of the daydream potion. Sure he and George had tested things, but there had been a reason they only had the charms last half an hour! And if he damaged Hermione Granger, Hermione, the smartest witch Hogwarts had seen in ages, the girl who had been the mastermind behind Harry’s saving the world, well he might as well just snap his wand now.
He groaned again as he looked at the girl he had moved to the couch. He had put pillows under he head and feet, an ice pack on her brow and had done what he thought was chafing to her wrists. But nothing had revived her at all. She hadn’t made a sound since she had gulped down the vial of daydream potion. She was sweating despite the ice pack, and would periodically thrash around. When that happened Fred would hold her down, throwing his body down on hers so that she wouldn’t fall off the couch or hurt herself even more. And when she finally stilled, Fred would breathe a sigh of relief and cautiously lift himself off of her, peering anxiously at her troubled face, ready to spring back into position if, and when, she started off again.
After a particularly bad thrashing fit, Fred panicked and sent his Patronus after George, only having time to scream SOS to the silvery dog before he had to tend to Hermione again. He desperately wanted to Floo call his mother or St. Mungo’s but was too afraid to leave Hermione’s side for more than a moment.
As he looked down at her nervously, waiting for her to start writhing again, he started to notice, not for the first time that day, that Hermione really was quite pretty. Even now, when he was scared to death that he might have turned her into a vegetable, he couldn’t help but stare at her face, her full mouth, delicate brows and a chin that looked stubborn even when she was unconscious. And then that body! Fred didn’t know how he had missed that at school, maybe it was a more recent development, or she had just been hiding it under knobbly woolen knee socks and Hogwarts robes? Regardless, Hermione had turned into a deliciously curved young woman, and her current summer attire, shorts and a rather pretty t-shirt of a wonderfully thin and clingy material, did nothing to hide that. In fact….
NO! Fred thought. You probably just poisoned this girl and all you can do is stare at her perfectly outlined and oh so luscious NO! Damn it! Fred began to pull his hair out in frustration. Focus Weasley! Focus!
Then he heard the first sound Hermione had made in what had to be almost two hours. It sounded like a groan and Fred hurriedly knelt by her face, cradling it in his hands, willing her to come back “Hermione! Hermione! Wake up. Please wake up!”
Hermione only groaned again, and began to move again. Only this time, she was more wriggling than thrashing. Fred found that his eyes were drawn southward to her impressive chest yet again. She moaned, and her mouth stayed open. Fred yanked his eyes back up to her face, fascinated by her open mouth. The sounds coming out of her didn’t sound like they were that painful, in fact he could have sworn they were moans of an entirely different nature.
That enticing sound issued forth from Hermione’s generous mouth again, this time accompanied by a most interesting undulation that thrust her hips up off the couch and made her generous assets bounce in a movement that utterly enthralled Fred. The moans began coming more and more frequently, and that delightful action along with it much to Fred’s delight. He knelt near her head spellbound at what was arguably the sexiest thing he had ever seen in his life. He felt all the blood rush to his groin, painfully aroused at the nymph on the couch. He let out a moan himself when hers started to crescendo. And then he heard a word that both relieved his concern over Hermione’s health and ratcheted the tension in his body up to unprecedented levels. With a final shudder and jiggle of her glorious breasts, Hermione nearly sat up and yelled “FRED!” and collapsed back onto the couch in a boneless slump, a catlike smile of satisfaction crossing gracing her lips.
With the trademark Weasley smirk on his own face, Fred sent a new Patronus message to George telling him not to worry, unbuttoned his now very tight trousers and settled back to enjoy the show.