Surprise Party (Chapter 1 of 3)
Title: Surprise Party (1/3)
Author: hinkykneazel
Pairings: Hermione/Draco (but not in this first chapter)
Rating: Hard R trending to a M for Mature Audiences
Genre: Humorous, Romance
Spoilers: DH Epilogue Compliant
Summary: The girls get Hermione a tantalizing gift for her 50th birthday.
Hermione was mortified.
Oh, the day had gone splendidly. Her best friends Ginny and Luna had really outdone themselves planning the perfect “girls’ day out” for Hermione’s fiftieth birthday. They had enjoyed a light lunch at the posh Epicurius and an afternoon of pampering at Venus Day Spa. After her massage and hydrating body scrub, Hermione couldn’t remember when she had felt so relaxed. Heck, she could barely remember her own name, if she were honest with herself. Julian had turned her muscles to jelly under his strong hands.
Even Harry’s wife, Pansy, had behaved herself - mostly. Luna had run interference between Pansy and the waiter with the tight pants, and Ginny had to specifically request a female masseuse when Pansy wasn’t paying attention. Not that Pans had ever cheated on Harry per se, but she did have roaming hands and a penchant for pinching male arses when she was out with the girls and her husband was not around.
No, the trouble had started when they moved the party to the Three Broomsticks and Alicia, Katie, and Hannah joined them. Her friends had rented the “coven suite,” designed to sleep thirteen for hen nights, bridal parties, and other overnight entertainments for multiple people. The suite included a large, central sitting area with low slung couches and pillows large enough to comfortably recline on and several plush niches that served as bedrooms. When she had first seen the sumptuousness of the room, Hermione had wondered about the previous festivities this decadent pit of sin had hosted.
The champagne flowed as the birthday presents became more risqué. “When am I ever going to wear this?” she said as she crinkled her nose over a sheer black fragment of fabric and floss. “How does one even put this on?”
Pansy giggled while the other women hooted in laughter. “Well, Ronald’s loss is the wizarding world’s gain, Hermione. Isn’t your Animagus form a cougar?” She made little clawing motions with her blood red manicured nails and growled. Ginny snorted champagne out of her nose, and it all went downhill from there.
Because that was the moment when the doorbell sounded and a man in Auror robes stepped into the suite and swaggered toward the congregated women.
“I have had some complaints from other guests that you ladies have been a rather rowdy bunch,” he said as he whipped out his wand. As Hermione began to apologize for the inconvenience and promise that they would hold it down, the others began - well, cackling would be the only word for it.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m going to have to have more than mere promises, even though you are the most beautiful woman in the room.” Hermione gulped as she took in his smoldering eyes and predatory gait as he invaded her personal space.
With a flick of his wand, the Auror conjured a straight back chair and lightly restrained Hermione to it with silken ribbons. Circling his wand over his head, he lowered the lights except for one spotlight on him. When the pulsing music started and his intentions became clear, Hermione blushed and groaned in embarrassment. Around the darkened edges of the room, she could hear her friends whistling and laughing, encouraging the man to “strut his stuff” and “just take it off already.”
He then removed the hood to expose his platinum blond hair and masked face. Hermione had trouble breathing. It couldn’t be! No, Malfoy would never be caught dead as a stripper. Then he removed his Auror’s robes to expose his toned, lithe body. No, definitely too young to be Draco. Thank Merlin!
Faced with a younger version of the man she had crushed on so heavily in the years just after the War, Hermione’s body went stiff as she tried to control any outward signs of her arousal. She hastily remembered that she had once told Ginny about her crush from over thirty years ago, and promised herself that she would take her revenge at her best friend’s next birthday. And then she stopped thinking at all…
The masked blonde began dancing to the pulsing rhythms. His hips rolled as his hands skimmed over his smooth chest and down his abdomen. His fingers stroked over his pelvis and slipped just under the waistband of his pants. Her eyes followed every move as he caressed his sensuous body, and she licked her dry lips.
The laughter and wolf whistles of her so-called friends receded as all of her attention was captured by his hands now rubbing over his crotch, which was blatantly tenting his pants. She gasped and quickly looked away and up into his eyes to find him looking intently at her alone. With a flash, he whipped the pants away from his body to expose the rest of his glorious body, except for what was barely covered by a silver g-string.
Unaware of her labored panting, Hermione swallowed thickly as the dancer continued to make love to his body just inches in front of her. She leaned back suddenly and almost knocked her chair backward when he straddled her legs and began grinding himself into her lap. She didn’t know what compelled her, but she found herself straining forward to lick the young man’s nipple. As he moved up and back from her lap, Hermione’s tongue never lost contact and traced down toward the silver bulge between his legs. She moaned when he stepped back and she barely registered a female voice saying, “Now, now, Hermione. You can look, but you can’t touch.” More cackling followed as another bottle of champagne was passed around by the other ladies in the room.
“Oh, she can touch it,” a deep voice penetrated through the women’s laughter and shrieks. The masked blonde turned around to face away from the restrained woman at the center of the room. He bent over, his arse high in the air. His legs pumped up and down and his hands caressed his arse and thighs just in front of Hermione.
“Would you like to touch it?” He looked over his shoulder and winked at her. “Would you like to spank it?” He slapped and rubbed his arse, while looking at Hermione through heavy, half-lidded eyes. “You can, you know.”
Hermione hadn’t realized that her hands were no longer restrained until she reached out toward him. She could hear the hoots and hollers of her friends encouraging her onward as she grasped his firm arse before lifting her hand back and giving him a resounding smack on one cheek.
“Woo, look at that sweet cherry red!” she heard Pansy yell as the blonde dancer’s pale skin reddened where she had spanked him. His hand caught hers and he guided her to caress his backside and thighs just had he had earlier. He backed up and sat lightly on her lap with his legs spread. He led her hands over his front and down to cover and massage his erection as he thrust up into her hands.
“Now, do you promise that you can be a good girl for the rest of the evening if I untie you from that chair?” he whispered into her ear.
“Oh yes, Auror,” she moaned. “Yes, we’ll all be good.” Her hips bucking up to hit his backside. “Very, very good.”
With that, the young man slipped down Hermione’s body to kneel in front of her. He took her head in his hands, leaned in and slowly licked her lips before placing his over her mouth. Suddenly the room grew much warmer, and Hermione melted into the kiss. When they both needed to breathe, he released her and said, “Happy birthday, beautiful lady. Stay out of trouble for me.”
As Hermione recovered from the heady euphoria of his touches and kisses, the masked blonde picked up his Auror’s robe and wand. He blew a kiss to all the ladies in the room, and then Disapparated.
When Hermione woke the next day, she had a hangover and only the blurriest of memory of the rest of the night. More champagne and bawdy jokes at her expense, she was sure. But the young blonde dancer and her reaction to him were crystal clear. And she was mortified. While he was definitely too young to actually be Draco, she suddenly thought, “Oh wait, didn’t he have a son about Rose’s age. Could it be that she had humiliated herself by licking Draco’s son?” She kept telling herself, “Not possible. Not possible. A Malfoy would never have to work as an exotic dancer. Not possible.
“Oh dear, the narfles must be banging around quite noisily in your head this morning,” Luna said as she handed Hermione a hangover potion. “This should take care of them,” she said with a wink and a smile. “And then you’ll want breakfast with the rest of us.”
When Hermione joined her friends in the sitting area, she told them they could just wipe the grins off their faces and never mention last night again on pain of death.
Pansy pouted, “What? You didn’t like our little surprise Glamour Boy?” Hermione sighed in relief as she realized that the dancer was from the same company Pansy had hired for Ginny’s daughter’s hen party. Golden Glamour’s specialty was using elaborate glamour charms to customize the looks of their entertainment staff for the specific enjoyment of their clients. So, her friends had hired some nameless, and effectively faceless, dancer to fulfill a youthful fantasy for one night.
But still. Even as she smiled at the good natured ribbing of her friends and dug into the breakfast pastries and morning tea, she was mortified.
Author: hinkykneazel
Pairings: Hermione/Draco (but not in this first chapter)
Rating: Hard R trending to a M for Mature Audiences
Genre: Humorous, Romance
Spoilers: DH Epilogue Compliant
Summary: The girls get Hermione a tantalizing gift for her 50th birthday.
Hermione was mortified.
Oh, the day had gone splendidly. Her best friends Ginny and Luna had really outdone themselves planning the perfect “girls’ day out” for Hermione’s fiftieth birthday. They had enjoyed a light lunch at the posh Epicurius and an afternoon of pampering at Venus Day Spa. After her massage and hydrating body scrub, Hermione couldn’t remember when she had felt so relaxed. Heck, she could barely remember her own name, if she were honest with herself. Julian had turned her muscles to jelly under his strong hands.
Even Harry’s wife, Pansy, had behaved herself - mostly. Luna had run interference between Pansy and the waiter with the tight pants, and Ginny had to specifically request a female masseuse when Pansy wasn’t paying attention. Not that Pans had ever cheated on Harry per se, but she did have roaming hands and a penchant for pinching male arses when she was out with the girls and her husband was not around.
No, the trouble had started when they moved the party to the Three Broomsticks and Alicia, Katie, and Hannah joined them. Her friends had rented the “coven suite,” designed to sleep thirteen for hen nights, bridal parties, and other overnight entertainments for multiple people. The suite included a large, central sitting area with low slung couches and pillows large enough to comfortably recline on and several plush niches that served as bedrooms. When she had first seen the sumptuousness of the room, Hermione had wondered about the previous festivities this decadent pit of sin had hosted.
The champagne flowed as the birthday presents became more risqué. “When am I ever going to wear this?” she said as she crinkled her nose over a sheer black fragment of fabric and floss. “How does one even put this on?”
Pansy giggled while the other women hooted in laughter. “Well, Ronald’s loss is the wizarding world’s gain, Hermione. Isn’t your Animagus form a cougar?” She made little clawing motions with her blood red manicured nails and growled. Ginny snorted champagne out of her nose, and it all went downhill from there.
Because that was the moment when the doorbell sounded and a man in Auror robes stepped into the suite and swaggered toward the congregated women.
“I have had some complaints from other guests that you ladies have been a rather rowdy bunch,” he said as he whipped out his wand. As Hermione began to apologize for the inconvenience and promise that they would hold it down, the others began - well, cackling would be the only word for it.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m going to have to have more than mere promises, even though you are the most beautiful woman in the room.” Hermione gulped as she took in his smoldering eyes and predatory gait as he invaded her personal space.
With a flick of his wand, the Auror conjured a straight back chair and lightly restrained Hermione to it with silken ribbons. Circling his wand over his head, he lowered the lights except for one spotlight on him. When the pulsing music started and his intentions became clear, Hermione blushed and groaned in embarrassment. Around the darkened edges of the room, she could hear her friends whistling and laughing, encouraging the man to “strut his stuff” and “just take it off already.”
He then removed the hood to expose his platinum blond hair and masked face. Hermione had trouble breathing. It couldn’t be! No, Malfoy would never be caught dead as a stripper. Then he removed his Auror’s robes to expose his toned, lithe body. No, definitely too young to be Draco. Thank Merlin!
Faced with a younger version of the man she had crushed on so heavily in the years just after the War, Hermione’s body went stiff as she tried to control any outward signs of her arousal. She hastily remembered that she had once told Ginny about her crush from over thirty years ago, and promised herself that she would take her revenge at her best friend’s next birthday. And then she stopped thinking at all…
The masked blonde began dancing to the pulsing rhythms. His hips rolled as his hands skimmed over his smooth chest and down his abdomen. His fingers stroked over his pelvis and slipped just under the waistband of his pants. Her eyes followed every move as he caressed his sensuous body, and she licked her dry lips.
The laughter and wolf whistles of her so-called friends receded as all of her attention was captured by his hands now rubbing over his crotch, which was blatantly tenting his pants. She gasped and quickly looked away and up into his eyes to find him looking intently at her alone. With a flash, he whipped the pants away from his body to expose the rest of his glorious body, except for what was barely covered by a silver g-string.
Unaware of her labored panting, Hermione swallowed thickly as the dancer continued to make love to his body just inches in front of her. She leaned back suddenly and almost knocked her chair backward when he straddled her legs and began grinding himself into her lap. She didn’t know what compelled her, but she found herself straining forward to lick the young man’s nipple. As he moved up and back from her lap, Hermione’s tongue never lost contact and traced down toward the silver bulge between his legs. She moaned when he stepped back and she barely registered a female voice saying, “Now, now, Hermione. You can look, but you can’t touch.” More cackling followed as another bottle of champagne was passed around by the other ladies in the room.
“Oh, she can touch it,” a deep voice penetrated through the women’s laughter and shrieks. The masked blonde turned around to face away from the restrained woman at the center of the room. He bent over, his arse high in the air. His legs pumped up and down and his hands caressed his arse and thighs just in front of Hermione.
“Would you like to touch it?” He looked over his shoulder and winked at her. “Would you like to spank it?” He slapped and rubbed his arse, while looking at Hermione through heavy, half-lidded eyes. “You can, you know.”
Hermione hadn’t realized that her hands were no longer restrained until she reached out toward him. She could hear the hoots and hollers of her friends encouraging her onward as she grasped his firm arse before lifting her hand back and giving him a resounding smack on one cheek.
“Woo, look at that sweet cherry red!” she heard Pansy yell as the blonde dancer’s pale skin reddened where she had spanked him. His hand caught hers and he guided her to caress his backside and thighs just had he had earlier. He backed up and sat lightly on her lap with his legs spread. He led her hands over his front and down to cover and massage his erection as he thrust up into her hands.
“Now, do you promise that you can be a good girl for the rest of the evening if I untie you from that chair?” he whispered into her ear.
“Oh yes, Auror,” she moaned. “Yes, we’ll all be good.” Her hips bucking up to hit his backside. “Very, very good.”
With that, the young man slipped down Hermione’s body to kneel in front of her. He took her head in his hands, leaned in and slowly licked her lips before placing his over her mouth. Suddenly the room grew much warmer, and Hermione melted into the kiss. When they both needed to breathe, he released her and said, “Happy birthday, beautiful lady. Stay out of trouble for me.”
As Hermione recovered from the heady euphoria of his touches and kisses, the masked blonde picked up his Auror’s robe and wand. He blew a kiss to all the ladies in the room, and then Disapparated.
When Hermione woke the next day, she had a hangover and only the blurriest of memory of the rest of the night. More champagne and bawdy jokes at her expense, she was sure. But the young blonde dancer and her reaction to him were crystal clear. And she was mortified. While he was definitely too young to actually be Draco, she suddenly thought, “Oh wait, didn’t he have a son about Rose’s age. Could it be that she had humiliated herself by licking Draco’s son?” She kept telling herself, “Not possible. Not possible. A Malfoy would never have to work as an exotic dancer. Not possible.
“Oh dear, the narfles must be banging around quite noisily in your head this morning,” Luna said as she handed Hermione a hangover potion. “This should take care of them,” she said with a wink and a smile. “And then you’ll want breakfast with the rest of us.”
When Hermione joined her friends in the sitting area, she told them they could just wipe the grins off their faces and never mention last night again on pain of death.
Pansy pouted, “What? You didn’t like our little surprise Glamour Boy?” Hermione sighed in relief as she realized that the dancer was from the same company Pansy had hired for Ginny’s daughter’s hen party. Golden Glamour’s specialty was using elaborate glamour charms to customize the looks of their entertainment staff for the specific enjoyment of their clients. So, her friends had hired some nameless, and effectively faceless, dancer to fulfill a youthful fantasy for one night.
But still. Even as she smiled at the good natured ribbing of her friends and dug into the breakfast pastries and morning tea, she was mortified.