Discardia: HP
The last of my HP stuff:
We Two Are Three
Part One
“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to another round of ‘get pissed and get laid’, featuring our hapless heroes, Lee Jordan and Fred Weasley.”
“I’m not hapless,” Fred groused.
Lee ignored him. “As our faithful viewers are no doubt aware, the score is, to date six to two, with Weasley bringing up the rear.” Lee smirked as Fred flipped him off. “Of course, there’s also the very sad reality that eight of the evenings have ended with neither of our winsome stars managing to get more than a very solid slap.”
“You got those, not me.”
“I seem to recall that blonde hauling off and smacking you a good one.”
“Oh.” Fred took a drink, shuddering slightly as the liquor burned down his throat. “Yeah, go on.”
Lee nodded and lowered his voice again. “Tonight our contestants will each have three drinks, varying in strength and then make a go at picking up the lovely women who are in the bar. First up will be Jordan, as that bastard Weasley managed to actually score in our last game.”
“I’ve scored twice,” Fred reminded him. “I think you could cut me a little slack in the bastard department.”
“Whatever,” Lee shrugged and swallowed his first drink, the firewhiskey setting up camp in his stomach and sending most of his insides into flames. “What d’you think? The blonde?”
“I have rotten luck with blondes.”
“That, mate, is why she’s mine.” Lee tossed back his second drink as Fred nursed his first. “Score and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Shot down and you drink three more.”
Lee downed his third shot and grinned. “See you tomorrow, Fred, my friend.”
Fred lifted a skeptical eyebrow and finished his drink as Lee walked away. “See you in about three seconds, Lee, my friend.”
**
Lee glared at Fred as the redhead signaled for another round. “You could have told me.”
“And miss out on all my fun?”
“Ought to be a rule about hitting on women you’ve already been shot down by.”
“As I recall, my last date was with a woman who turned you down flat, Lee.” Fred grinned and swallowed his third drink down, barely noticing the burn. “So I’m afraid you’re just going to have to suck it all up, aren’t you?”
“Just take your turn, you lousy bastard.”
“Gladly.” Fred got to his feet, his target already picked out. He slid onto the stool next to the brunette and signaled for another drink. The bartender shook his head but didn’t say anything as he poured from the bottle that Fred and Lee brought with them every time. “Buy you a drink?”
“I’m not all that keen on firewhiskey.”
Fred nearly spit out the golden liquid, instead swallowing it wrong and sending himself into a coughing fit. The woman glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and smiled. “Hello, Fred.”
“Her…Hermione.”
She grinned, carefully sipping her drink. “Hello, Fred.”
“What are you doing here?”
She shrugged and didn’t say anything for a long moment. “Just enjoying a drink. You?”
“I…uh…Lee and I are…what’re you doing here?”
Hermione shook her head and finished her drink, setting the glass down on top of the bar. “I’m going to the loo.” She slid off her chair and started walking toward the back of the pub, glancing over her shoulder at Fred’s dumbfounded expression. “What are you doing?”
He watched her for a few seconds, the honeyed tone of her voice washing over him. Without looking away from the subtle sway of her hips, he reached behind him, grabbed his glass, emptied it in one long swallow and slipped off the barstool, following in her wake.
**
Fred moved through the dark corridor, barely noticing the walls as they thrummed, reverberating from the music in the club next door. Hermione was leaning against the back wall; her shoulders against the smooth wood, her hips angled outward, her hands thrust into the pockets of her jeans. His eyes devoured her as he moved closer, sliding one leg between both of hers as he pressed his body against hers. “This isn’t quite the way I pictured it.”
“What’s not?” She asked coolly, her eyes watching the curve of his lips.
“Well, I never imagined it’d be in the back hallway of a pub in Muggle London. Rather expected I’d take you against a rock wall at Hogwarts, thrusting inside you in one of the hidden corridors, your uniform skirt hiked up around your hips.”
“Given it some thought, have you?” She freed her hands from her pockets and ran one finger down Fred’s chest.
“Not so much thought as a sleepless night and a hard-on,” he grinned at her, his smile bright in the dimness. “You don’t mind do you?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
Her fingers were nimble as they unfastened his jeans, her hand sliding beneath his boxers to wrap around his cock. “Wasn’t your last hard-on, was it?”
He shook his head, sucking in air as her fingers curved firmly around his shaft, not moving, though her grip tightened slightly. “Obviously not.”
“I’m afraid the uniform skirt’s a bit too short these days.”
Fred’s mouth curled to impart his shrugged acceptance as his hands smoothed over her hips, moving around to the button that held her jeans together, easing it free of its casing, sliding her zipper down. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Jeans aren’t quite as easy.”
“Something tells me you’ll be worth the extra effort.” He moved his hands back to her hips and guided the denim down her legs. She shivered slightly as he stroked her thighs with his hands; the fingertips still callused from years of Quidditch. He sank to his knees, pushing the denim lower; letting his hands move down over her calves. Her breathing deepened above him as he knelt, leaning in to her, inhaling the sharp, musky scent of her arousal. “If you’re worried about being seen, we could cast a…”
“If I was worried about being seen,” Hermione laced her fingers in his short hair and tugged his head back, looking down into his eyes, “I wouldn’t be fucking you in the back hallway of a pub.”
“You’re not fucking me,” Fred reminded her as he stood, lifting her in the same motion, his hands under her arms, holding her aloft. She wrapped her legs around his waist, closing her eyes as he guided her onto his cock, feeling the thick, liquid heat of her surrounding him. “I’m fucking you.”
**
He lost himself inside her, thrusting deeply and stopping, filling her, his breath hot against her neck. Her wild hair seemed everywhere around him as she bent her head, her lips against his ear. “I want you to fuck me, Fred.”
He groaned hotly and began moving, his hands holding her, her shoulders pressed hard against the wall to help support herself. His fingers dug into her bare flesh, leaving hard impressions in the pale skin. He rocked forward, moving slowly at first, steady strokes that slid, flesh clinging to flesh, moving slickly through wetness and warmth.
Hermione wrapped her arms around his shoulders, forcing him deeper as she brought her body against his, all of her weight resting on his muscular arms, her body centered on his cock as she sank down onto him. With a groan he didn’t recognize, Fred turned slightly and stumbled back, leaning against the wall beside him, his hips out and arched as she moved above him.
He breathed her name as she caught his hair, her grip tight and painful as she pulled his head back, her kiss just as vicious and hungry. Her teeth nipped at his parted lips, her tongue controlled his as it slid over it, as she sucked it into her mouth, hot pink surrounding him over and over again.
Her head fell back suddenly, the abrupt distance from her swollen lips forcing a gasp from deep inside him. He clung to her hips, afraid she would fall, nearly collapsing himself as she thrust forward, the rough hairs surrounding his cock clinging to her wet clit, her body shaking as she loosed a melted groan and came around him.
Straightening, Fred moved them back the few steps to the other wall, slamming Hermione into it with the same aggression that his cock thrust into the second wave of her orgasm. He pinned her hard and fast, quick jerks of his hips that thrust him deeper and deeper until he moaned her name against her neck, the skin rapidly darkening as his lips left her skin.
**
Fred eased Hermione back onto the floor and stepped back, his eyes moving over her bare flesh then up to her shirt with hung haphazardly on her. He reached out to straighten it, surprised when she flinched away from his touch. She grabbed the hem with her hands and wrenched it until it was straight, bending down to grab her jeans. He looked away and found the tennis shoes she’d kicked off, pushing them toward her with his foot as his hands fumbled with his jeans.
“Er…”
“No patented Weasley quip?” Hermione finished buttoning her jeans. “I think I’m disappointed.”
“Well, normally I’m not in this position in a pub. Generally I’m somewhere comfortable, for me at least, like my bedroom and I’ve had time to think about said quip and what the hell just happened?”
Hermione smiled. “ You fucked me.”
“I’m aware of that. I’m not sure that I’m clear why.”
“Because it was more fun that another night of fantasizing and doing it all by yourself?” She smoothed her hair down, tucking it back into the clip that had been holding it. “Because I offered? Because it means that Lee has to buy the next round?”
“How’d you know about…” He shook his head. “What d’we do now?”
“Well, I don’t know about you,” she smiled and grabbed her purse from the floor, “but I’m going home.” She moved forward, standing on tiptoe to press a kiss to his lips. “Night, Fred.”
**
Lee glared at Fred as he walked over to the table and sank down in his chair. “’Bout fucking time, mate. Where the hell you’ve been?”
“I was…” Fred shrugged. “Sorry. Let me buy the next round.”
“What happened with the fluff?”
“She turned me down.” Fred watched Hermione walk behind them and slip out the door. “It’s your turn, mate.”
Part Two
Hermione glanced at the door as it squeaked. “You going to come in, or do you plan on skulking in the hallways all afternoon?”
“I’m quite good at skulking.” Fred stepped into the small office and looked around, eyes moving curiously over the knickknacks spread out on various shelves. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Would it matter if I did?”
“I didn’t realize you were living…”
“In the real world?” Hermione smiled. “We can’t all find work in the magical world, you know. Some of us have to make our way out here.”
“You could teach at Hogwarts any day. What’re you doing being an assistant to some boring old professor?” He shook his head at her look. “Sorry, it’s none of my business why you’re doing it.”
“You’re right.” She sank onto the edge of her desk, crossing her arms over her chest, the movement lifting and emphasizing her breasts in the burgundy sweater she wore. “It’s none of your business.”
“I’m doing this badly.”
“You certainly are.”
Fred grinned and shook his head. “You’ve not changed at all, have you?”
“I’ve changed quite a bit, actually.” She tapped her foot impatiently. “Did you need something, Mr. Weasley, or did you merely come here to insult me?”
“I asked after you. After…after the other night. I was curious.” He moved over to the seat in front of her and sank down into it, sprawling on the smooth leather, his legs splayed in front of him. “I wondered what had led Hogwart’s best student ever to a seedy bar in London, getting fucked on a bet in a hallway.”
“You’d be surprised where things lead you.”
“You like it here?”
“It’s nice enough. Lots of books, some of the students are actually interested in what I’m teaching them. The professor allows me a free reign.”
“Probably because you know more than he does.”
“I have my own office, my own books. My parents can proudly tell their friends that their daughter teaches at Oxford and they don’t have to worry about some odd look wondering what they’re talking about.” She shrugged. “It’s living.”
“Doesn’t it bother you? Not having magic around?”
“I have magic,” she assured him. “My wand’s right here. I go home every night and Crookshanks is there and magic is there and I’m the same girl who went to Hogwarts. I just managed to find a way to bridge both worlds.”
“I see.” He narrowed his eyes, letting them move over her. “That doesn’t explain the bar. Or the fucking.”
“Are you complaining, Fred?”
“No. Just curious. Generally, I know the girl goes home with me because she’s horny or angry or bored or interested. You didn’t seem any of ‘em. You just seemed…there.”
“I just wanted a drink. You were an added bonus.”
“So it was just a whim? A lark?”
Hermione shrugged and let her hands fall, curling her fingers around the edge of her desk. “What is it you wanted it to be?”
“Dunno. I think I’d just be more comfortable with it all if you’d been horny or angry or bored or interested.”
“Well,” Hermione slid off the desk and approached him, closing the short distance. “I’m not angry or bored.” She grabbed her skirt and hiked it up her legs until the material edged over the top of her thigh high stockings. Fred nearly groaned as she straddled him, her knees digging between his thighs and the arms of the chair. “ But I think it’s a safe bet to say I’m horny.” She sank down onto him, heat surrounding his cock. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
He nodded, closing his eyes as she ground down, the curve of his erection bathed in her warmth. “I’d be hard pressed to find an argument against it.”
“And I’m definitely,” she reached down and grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and tugged it up over his head, dropping it on the floor beside the chair, “interested.”
“I’ve a feeling that we’re finished talking.”
“You didn’t really come here to talk, did you, Fred?”
“Actually, yes.”
“So,” she ran her hands over his chest, fingers finding and rubbing the hard nubs of his nipples, “I should stop doing this then?”
“I don’t remember saying that. I’m pretty sure that I’d remember saying that.”
Ending
“I finally figured it out.” Hermione didn’t look up as Fred angled his broom over the roof and landed lightly. He set the Nimbus 2004 aside and sat a ways away from her. “Maybe if I’d taken my NEWTs it wouldn’t have taken me so long, huh?”
“What is it you think you know?”
“You’re cheating on your boyfriend, right? Using me because you’re angry at him?”
“Something like that.” She didn’t look up.
“What? He’s not treating your right? Not lavishing you with attention? Not giving you presents? He make you not do magic?”
“He does magic. He’s a wizard.” She traced a circle on the roof. “He treats me wonderfully. Gives me all the gifts and attention I need. He approves of me working in the real world, he’s everything a girl could ask for.”
“So we’re back to the question I’ve been asking since the beginning. Why’re you fucking me?”
“He’s fucking my best friend.”
Fred finally followed her gaze. She was staring down into the roof, a circular section of it cut away and offering her a view into the room below them. “That’s one of ours. Eavesdropping Eyeball.”
“Yes.”
He bit his lower lip at the flat tone of her voice, forcing himself to look down at the sight below them. She was directly over the bed, the view afforded them both showing more than enough of the tangled sheets, of pale skin, of dark and red hair tangled together.
Harry’s hand was buried in the ginger strands, curled around his own head as he lay with his face pressed to the broad back, his own body rising and falling in time with each of Ron’s breaths. “Oh.”
She nodded, not looking away from the scene. “They look good together, don’t you think?”
“Does Harry…do they know you know?”
“No.” She laughed quietly, the sound breaking on a sob. “How do you think I should tell them? ‘By the way, Harry, as much as I love you, I’ve been sleeping with Ron’s brother, but I figure that’s only fair since you’re shagging Ron’? You think that’d go over well?”
“How’d you find out?”
“I came over late one night. Thought I’d surprise Harry. I walked upstairs and opened the door. I heard…him. Thought maybe he was…I thought he’d be pleased that I was there. Instead, he was lying there, moaning as Ron sucked his cock.” Her laugh returned, this time bitter and sad. “Harry was shaking and trembling and he wasn’t thinking about me at all.”
“I’m…”
“Don’t say you’re sorry. You’re not sorry. You got something out of it all, didn’t you?”
“You think that’s why I was with you?” Fred shook his head. “I didn’t even know you and Harry were dating. Ron neglected to mention it when he mentioned where you were.”
She smiled, the thin curve of her lips almost painful. “Gee, I wonder why.”
“You think Ron…”
She stared down into the hole for another long moment then balled her hand into a fist and smashed the fragile spell. “It doesn’t matter, does it? What’s done is done.”
Ideas
Romanticalgirl: So I figure F/Hr will have sex in her office then once in her apartment
Romanticalgirl: Other than that, I'm clueless.
_roly_: Could you have Fred kind of asking around about her?
Romanticalgirl: I was thinking about that. Don't know if I should have the convo w/ Ron that leads him to her work though.
_roly_: You should. It should take place in the locker room of the pro-Quidditch team that Ron plays for. Hee.
Romanticalgirl: Heee. Mmmmm.
_roly_: And Ron could be evasive about Hermione and Fred could think it's because he's still got feelings for her but in actuality it's because he's fucking Harry.
Romanticalgirl: And Fred could then debate with himself about whether or not to pursue her.
Romanticalgirl: And he'll have to figure out something to tell Ron
Romanticalgirl: Becasue Ron can't be suspicious
Romanticalgirl: And I don't konw how I"m going to end it.
Romanticalgirl: But I'm in love with the image of Ron lying on his stomach and Harry sprawled across his back.
We Two Are Three
Part One
“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to another round of ‘get pissed and get laid’, featuring our hapless heroes, Lee Jordan and Fred Weasley.”
“I’m not hapless,” Fred groused.
Lee ignored him. “As our faithful viewers are no doubt aware, the score is, to date six to two, with Weasley bringing up the rear.” Lee smirked as Fred flipped him off. “Of course, there’s also the very sad reality that eight of the evenings have ended with neither of our winsome stars managing to get more than a very solid slap.”
“You got those, not me.”
“I seem to recall that blonde hauling off and smacking you a good one.”
“Oh.” Fred took a drink, shuddering slightly as the liquor burned down his throat. “Yeah, go on.”
Lee nodded and lowered his voice again. “Tonight our contestants will each have three drinks, varying in strength and then make a go at picking up the lovely women who are in the bar. First up will be Jordan, as that bastard Weasley managed to actually score in our last game.”
“I’ve scored twice,” Fred reminded him. “I think you could cut me a little slack in the bastard department.”
“Whatever,” Lee shrugged and swallowed his first drink, the firewhiskey setting up camp in his stomach and sending most of his insides into flames. “What d’you think? The blonde?”
“I have rotten luck with blondes.”
“That, mate, is why she’s mine.” Lee tossed back his second drink as Fred nursed his first. “Score and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Shot down and you drink three more.”
Lee downed his third shot and grinned. “See you tomorrow, Fred, my friend.”
Fred lifted a skeptical eyebrow and finished his drink as Lee walked away. “See you in about three seconds, Lee, my friend.”
**
Lee glared at Fred as the redhead signaled for another round. “You could have told me.”
“And miss out on all my fun?”
“Ought to be a rule about hitting on women you’ve already been shot down by.”
“As I recall, my last date was with a woman who turned you down flat, Lee.” Fred grinned and swallowed his third drink down, barely noticing the burn. “So I’m afraid you’re just going to have to suck it all up, aren’t you?”
“Just take your turn, you lousy bastard.”
“Gladly.” Fred got to his feet, his target already picked out. He slid onto the stool next to the brunette and signaled for another drink. The bartender shook his head but didn’t say anything as he poured from the bottle that Fred and Lee brought with them every time. “Buy you a drink?”
“I’m not all that keen on firewhiskey.”
Fred nearly spit out the golden liquid, instead swallowing it wrong and sending himself into a coughing fit. The woman glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and smiled. “Hello, Fred.”
“Her…Hermione.”
She grinned, carefully sipping her drink. “Hello, Fred.”
“What are you doing here?”
She shrugged and didn’t say anything for a long moment. “Just enjoying a drink. You?”
“I…uh…Lee and I are…what’re you doing here?”
Hermione shook her head and finished her drink, setting the glass down on top of the bar. “I’m going to the loo.” She slid off her chair and started walking toward the back of the pub, glancing over her shoulder at Fred’s dumbfounded expression. “What are you doing?”
He watched her for a few seconds, the honeyed tone of her voice washing over him. Without looking away from the subtle sway of her hips, he reached behind him, grabbed his glass, emptied it in one long swallow and slipped off the barstool, following in her wake.
**
Fred moved through the dark corridor, barely noticing the walls as they thrummed, reverberating from the music in the club next door. Hermione was leaning against the back wall; her shoulders against the smooth wood, her hips angled outward, her hands thrust into the pockets of her jeans. His eyes devoured her as he moved closer, sliding one leg between both of hers as he pressed his body against hers. “This isn’t quite the way I pictured it.”
“What’s not?” She asked coolly, her eyes watching the curve of his lips.
“Well, I never imagined it’d be in the back hallway of a pub in Muggle London. Rather expected I’d take you against a rock wall at Hogwarts, thrusting inside you in one of the hidden corridors, your uniform skirt hiked up around your hips.”
“Given it some thought, have you?” She freed her hands from her pockets and ran one finger down Fred’s chest.
“Not so much thought as a sleepless night and a hard-on,” he grinned at her, his smile bright in the dimness. “You don’t mind do you?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
Her fingers were nimble as they unfastened his jeans, her hand sliding beneath his boxers to wrap around his cock. “Wasn’t your last hard-on, was it?”
He shook his head, sucking in air as her fingers curved firmly around his shaft, not moving, though her grip tightened slightly. “Obviously not.”
“I’m afraid the uniform skirt’s a bit too short these days.”
Fred’s mouth curled to impart his shrugged acceptance as his hands smoothed over her hips, moving around to the button that held her jeans together, easing it free of its casing, sliding her zipper down. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Jeans aren’t quite as easy.”
“Something tells me you’ll be worth the extra effort.” He moved his hands back to her hips and guided the denim down her legs. She shivered slightly as he stroked her thighs with his hands; the fingertips still callused from years of Quidditch. He sank to his knees, pushing the denim lower; letting his hands move down over her calves. Her breathing deepened above him as he knelt, leaning in to her, inhaling the sharp, musky scent of her arousal. “If you’re worried about being seen, we could cast a…”
“If I was worried about being seen,” Hermione laced her fingers in his short hair and tugged his head back, looking down into his eyes, “I wouldn’t be fucking you in the back hallway of a pub.”
“You’re not fucking me,” Fred reminded her as he stood, lifting her in the same motion, his hands under her arms, holding her aloft. She wrapped her legs around his waist, closing her eyes as he guided her onto his cock, feeling the thick, liquid heat of her surrounding him. “I’m fucking you.”
**
He lost himself inside her, thrusting deeply and stopping, filling her, his breath hot against her neck. Her wild hair seemed everywhere around him as she bent her head, her lips against his ear. “I want you to fuck me, Fred.”
He groaned hotly and began moving, his hands holding her, her shoulders pressed hard against the wall to help support herself. His fingers dug into her bare flesh, leaving hard impressions in the pale skin. He rocked forward, moving slowly at first, steady strokes that slid, flesh clinging to flesh, moving slickly through wetness and warmth.
Hermione wrapped her arms around his shoulders, forcing him deeper as she brought her body against his, all of her weight resting on his muscular arms, her body centered on his cock as she sank down onto him. With a groan he didn’t recognize, Fred turned slightly and stumbled back, leaning against the wall beside him, his hips out and arched as she moved above him.
He breathed her name as she caught his hair, her grip tight and painful as she pulled his head back, her kiss just as vicious and hungry. Her teeth nipped at his parted lips, her tongue controlled his as it slid over it, as she sucked it into her mouth, hot pink surrounding him over and over again.
Her head fell back suddenly, the abrupt distance from her swollen lips forcing a gasp from deep inside him. He clung to her hips, afraid she would fall, nearly collapsing himself as she thrust forward, the rough hairs surrounding his cock clinging to her wet clit, her body shaking as she loosed a melted groan and came around him.
Straightening, Fred moved them back the few steps to the other wall, slamming Hermione into it with the same aggression that his cock thrust into the second wave of her orgasm. He pinned her hard and fast, quick jerks of his hips that thrust him deeper and deeper until he moaned her name against her neck, the skin rapidly darkening as his lips left her skin.
**
Fred eased Hermione back onto the floor and stepped back, his eyes moving over her bare flesh then up to her shirt with hung haphazardly on her. He reached out to straighten it, surprised when she flinched away from his touch. She grabbed the hem with her hands and wrenched it until it was straight, bending down to grab her jeans. He looked away and found the tennis shoes she’d kicked off, pushing them toward her with his foot as his hands fumbled with his jeans.
“Er…”
“No patented Weasley quip?” Hermione finished buttoning her jeans. “I think I’m disappointed.”
“Well, normally I’m not in this position in a pub. Generally I’m somewhere comfortable, for me at least, like my bedroom and I’ve had time to think about said quip and what the hell just happened?”
Hermione smiled. “ You fucked me.”
“I’m aware of that. I’m not sure that I’m clear why.”
“Because it was more fun that another night of fantasizing and doing it all by yourself?” She smoothed her hair down, tucking it back into the clip that had been holding it. “Because I offered? Because it means that Lee has to buy the next round?”
“How’d you know about…” He shook his head. “What d’we do now?”
“Well, I don’t know about you,” she smiled and grabbed her purse from the floor, “but I’m going home.” She moved forward, standing on tiptoe to press a kiss to his lips. “Night, Fred.”
**
Lee glared at Fred as he walked over to the table and sank down in his chair. “’Bout fucking time, mate. Where the hell you’ve been?”
“I was…” Fred shrugged. “Sorry. Let me buy the next round.”
“What happened with the fluff?”
“She turned me down.” Fred watched Hermione walk behind them and slip out the door. “It’s your turn, mate.”
Part Two
Hermione glanced at the door as it squeaked. “You going to come in, or do you plan on skulking in the hallways all afternoon?”
“I’m quite good at skulking.” Fred stepped into the small office and looked around, eyes moving curiously over the knickknacks spread out on various shelves. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Would it matter if I did?”
“I didn’t realize you were living…”
“In the real world?” Hermione smiled. “We can’t all find work in the magical world, you know. Some of us have to make our way out here.”
“You could teach at Hogwarts any day. What’re you doing being an assistant to some boring old professor?” He shook his head at her look. “Sorry, it’s none of my business why you’re doing it.”
“You’re right.” She sank onto the edge of her desk, crossing her arms over her chest, the movement lifting and emphasizing her breasts in the burgundy sweater she wore. “It’s none of your business.”
“I’m doing this badly.”
“You certainly are.”
Fred grinned and shook his head. “You’ve not changed at all, have you?”
“I’ve changed quite a bit, actually.” She tapped her foot impatiently. “Did you need something, Mr. Weasley, or did you merely come here to insult me?”
“I asked after you. After…after the other night. I was curious.” He moved over to the seat in front of her and sank down into it, sprawling on the smooth leather, his legs splayed in front of him. “I wondered what had led Hogwart’s best student ever to a seedy bar in London, getting fucked on a bet in a hallway.”
“You’d be surprised where things lead you.”
“You like it here?”
“It’s nice enough. Lots of books, some of the students are actually interested in what I’m teaching them. The professor allows me a free reign.”
“Probably because you know more than he does.”
“I have my own office, my own books. My parents can proudly tell their friends that their daughter teaches at Oxford and they don’t have to worry about some odd look wondering what they’re talking about.” She shrugged. “It’s living.”
“Doesn’t it bother you? Not having magic around?”
“I have magic,” she assured him. “My wand’s right here. I go home every night and Crookshanks is there and magic is there and I’m the same girl who went to Hogwarts. I just managed to find a way to bridge both worlds.”
“I see.” He narrowed his eyes, letting them move over her. “That doesn’t explain the bar. Or the fucking.”
“Are you complaining, Fred?”
“No. Just curious. Generally, I know the girl goes home with me because she’s horny or angry or bored or interested. You didn’t seem any of ‘em. You just seemed…there.”
“I just wanted a drink. You were an added bonus.”
“So it was just a whim? A lark?”
Hermione shrugged and let her hands fall, curling her fingers around the edge of her desk. “What is it you wanted it to be?”
“Dunno. I think I’d just be more comfortable with it all if you’d been horny or angry or bored or interested.”
“Well,” Hermione slid off the desk and approached him, closing the short distance. “I’m not angry or bored.” She grabbed her skirt and hiked it up her legs until the material edged over the top of her thigh high stockings. Fred nearly groaned as she straddled him, her knees digging between his thighs and the arms of the chair. “ But I think it’s a safe bet to say I’m horny.” She sank down onto him, heat surrounding his cock. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
He nodded, closing his eyes as she ground down, the curve of his erection bathed in her warmth. “I’d be hard pressed to find an argument against it.”
“And I’m definitely,” she reached down and grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and tugged it up over his head, dropping it on the floor beside the chair, “interested.”
“I’ve a feeling that we’re finished talking.”
“You didn’t really come here to talk, did you, Fred?”
“Actually, yes.”
“So,” she ran her hands over his chest, fingers finding and rubbing the hard nubs of his nipples, “I should stop doing this then?”
“I don’t remember saying that. I’m pretty sure that I’d remember saying that.”
Ending
“I finally figured it out.” Hermione didn’t look up as Fred angled his broom over the roof and landed lightly. He set the Nimbus 2004 aside and sat a ways away from her. “Maybe if I’d taken my NEWTs it wouldn’t have taken me so long, huh?”
“What is it you think you know?”
“You’re cheating on your boyfriend, right? Using me because you’re angry at him?”
“Something like that.” She didn’t look up.
“What? He’s not treating your right? Not lavishing you with attention? Not giving you presents? He make you not do magic?”
“He does magic. He’s a wizard.” She traced a circle on the roof. “He treats me wonderfully. Gives me all the gifts and attention I need. He approves of me working in the real world, he’s everything a girl could ask for.”
“So we’re back to the question I’ve been asking since the beginning. Why’re you fucking me?”
“He’s fucking my best friend.”
Fred finally followed her gaze. She was staring down into the roof, a circular section of it cut away and offering her a view into the room below them. “That’s one of ours. Eavesdropping Eyeball.”
“Yes.”
He bit his lower lip at the flat tone of her voice, forcing himself to look down at the sight below them. She was directly over the bed, the view afforded them both showing more than enough of the tangled sheets, of pale skin, of dark and red hair tangled together.
Harry’s hand was buried in the ginger strands, curled around his own head as he lay with his face pressed to the broad back, his own body rising and falling in time with each of Ron’s breaths. “Oh.”
She nodded, not looking away from the scene. “They look good together, don’t you think?”
“Does Harry…do they know you know?”
“No.” She laughed quietly, the sound breaking on a sob. “How do you think I should tell them? ‘By the way, Harry, as much as I love you, I’ve been sleeping with Ron’s brother, but I figure that’s only fair since you’re shagging Ron’? You think that’d go over well?”
“How’d you find out?”
“I came over late one night. Thought I’d surprise Harry. I walked upstairs and opened the door. I heard…him. Thought maybe he was…I thought he’d be pleased that I was there. Instead, he was lying there, moaning as Ron sucked his cock.” Her laugh returned, this time bitter and sad. “Harry was shaking and trembling and he wasn’t thinking about me at all.”
“I’m…”
“Don’t say you’re sorry. You’re not sorry. You got something out of it all, didn’t you?”
“You think that’s why I was with you?” Fred shook his head. “I didn’t even know you and Harry were dating. Ron neglected to mention it when he mentioned where you were.”
She smiled, the thin curve of her lips almost painful. “Gee, I wonder why.”
“You think Ron…”
She stared down into the hole for another long moment then balled her hand into a fist and smashed the fragile spell. “It doesn’t matter, does it? What’s done is done.”
Ideas
Romanticalgirl: So I figure F/Hr will have sex in her office then once in her apartment
Romanticalgirl: Other than that, I'm clueless.
_roly_: Could you have Fred kind of asking around about her?
Romanticalgirl: I was thinking about that. Don't know if I should have the convo w/ Ron that leads him to her work though.
_roly_: You should. It should take place in the locker room of the pro-Quidditch team that Ron plays for. Hee.
Romanticalgirl: Heee. Mmmmm.
_roly_: And Ron could be evasive about Hermione and Fred could think it's because he's still got feelings for her but in actuality it's because he's fucking Harry.
Romanticalgirl: And Fred could then debate with himself about whether or not to pursue her.
Romanticalgirl: And he'll have to figure out something to tell Ron
Romanticalgirl: Becasue Ron can't be suspicious
Romanticalgirl: And I don't konw how I"m going to end it.
Romanticalgirl: But I'm in love with the image of Ron lying on his stomach and Harry sprawled across his back.