Hermione and the Muggle Champion by luvscharlie
Fred whistled his approval at the tight denims she donned for Lee and Katie's engagement party, as he entered their bedroom. She gave Fred a once over and reciprocated with a whistle of her own.
Fred crossed the room, wrapping his arms around her. He squeezed her arse, then slipped his hand between her legs stroking her, as he grasped the thin strap holding her camisole-like top in place between his teeth and tugged it down her shoulder. Fred's tongue teased the exposed skin of her shoulder and his fingers evoked the most delightful sensations between her legs. He canted his hips against her backside, and she felt him pressing hard against her.
"I need you, pet," he whispered, increasing the pressure of his fingers. "Need you now."
"Fred," she whimpered, her tone pleading. "We don't have time for this. We're going to be late." She reluctantly twisted from his embrace.
"What do you say we skive off the party and have one of our own?"
"You and George are going to be Lee's best men. You cannot skive off his engagement party!"
"You know what it does to me when you're bossy." He rubbed his cock harder against her bum for emphasis.
"Stop it."
He sighed, sounding defeated, "Bloody hell! I suppose I have to go, but all I really want to do right now is throw you down on the bed and rip your clothes off."
"I promise you can rip my clothes off later. How's that?"
"It'll do, I suppose," he said, sounding like a petulant child.
"Shall we go then?"
He grumbled, but took her hand and side-along Apparated them into Lee's garden, where the party was already in full swing. Music blasted from the wireless and faerie lights twinkled in the trees as couples twirled around on the enchanted dance floor.
Fred accepted the Firewhisky Lee offered, and when Hermione declined, she was handed a Muggle drink that Katie's family had supplied. Lee said the females seemed to be enjoying it, so she accepted the glass containing the bubbly liquid.
"Katie's cousin called it champion, I think," said Lee, showing her a tall green bottle.
Hermione took a sip. It didn't burn like the Firewhisky Fred drank. In fact, she rather liked the little bubbles that tickled her nose.
Fred draped an arm around her waist as they chatted with friends. They danced to several songs, and Hermione wasn't sure if it was the little bubbles in the champion that made her feet lack coordination, or if it was merely the intoxicating feeling of being held in her lover's arms as they glided across the dance floor.
They conversed, laughed, danced and drank for several hours. Hermione developed a great affection for the Muggle drink and lost count of how many she consumed.
When they joined Fred's brothers at a table, her cheeks were flushed and her body tingled. She was not one to appreciate displays of public affection, but the longer she sat next to Fred, the more she felt the accumulation of moisture between her thighs. He was delicious, and she could not remember a time she wanted him so desperately. When she could no longer withstand the temptation, she stood, swaying as she did so, and straddled his lap, crushing her lips down onto his and rolling her hips in the way he loved, amidst his brothers' cat-calling and whistling. When they parted, both were breathing hard.
"Fuck, baby."
"Take me home, Fred."
He Apparated them onto their bed without a word. He pressed her back into the mattress and unfastened her jeans.
"Fred," she said weakly, holding a hand to her forehead, where there was a light sheen of perspiration.
"What is it, love?"
"The room is spinning."
"Doesn't the room usually spin when I kiss you?" He leaned in and kissed her mouth lightly before he recommenced tugging her jeans down her thighs.
"Not like this, Fred. I think I'm gonna be sick."
"My kissing technique may need some work if I make you feel sick," he teased.
She shook her head to indicate they did not, but winced and groaned at the movement.
He chuckled when she pulled a face, "You're rat-arsed, my love."
"I'm not." she slurred, holding her stomach and grimacing.
"I think we've got a potion that'll help. Raise your hips." He pulled her jeans down her legs and tossed them aside. "Be right back."
He returned carrying a green vial. "This is about the colour of your skin."
She scowled at him for mocking her.
"Sit up," he said, helping her into the position. "You have to take this all in one drink or it won't help. So, be a good girl and drink up." He pressed the vial to her lips and forced her to continue taking it when she started to gag. "That's my girl," he said rubbing her back.
Typically, she wouldn't have tolerated being talked to in such a patronising manner, but she felt so bad she simply whimpered and laid her head against his shoulder.
He told her to raise her arms, which she did with a fair amount of whinging, and tugged her shirt over her head. He helped her beneath the blankets sniggering at her mismatched bra and knickers.
He used his wand to extinguish the candles lighting the room, stripped down to his shorts and climbed in beside her. "Come here, my little lush, and let me hold you."
"Stop poking fun."
"How's your tummy?" he asked, stroking his finger across it.
"Really icky."
"Give the potion time to take hold. Just rest baby, and I'll take care of you."
"I love you, Fred."
"Love you too." He pressed a kiss to her forehead as she settled against him.