A/N – Happy Belated Birthday Panny!
A Night to Remember: The Orange Ribbon
Fred stepped from the steaming shower stall, groping his hand blindly against the wall until his hand touched upon the fluffy fabric of his favourite towel and he snatched it from the heated rack.
Exiting the bathroom as he secured the towel around his waist he made his way to the bedroom to see if Luna had made any more progress getting ready. When he had left to shower she had been pulling on her knee high leather boots.
He smiled to himself when he found her standing in front of the ceiling to floor mirror, spinning in circles in her attempt to lace up the orange corset she had deemed perfect for their evening out. Seeing how well it pushed her modest bust up, he found himself agreeing whole heartedly. The fact that she was wearing only her boots, tiny black lace knickers and a corset was making him wish he they didn't have to attend Dumbledore's Christmas in July Birthday Extravaganza; he would much rather stay home and have his own kind of extravaganza with Luna.
On her fourth spin around she caught sight of him standing in the doorway leering at her, "Oh Fred! Would you mind?" she trailed off, presenting her back to him.
"Are you sure you don't need a hand taking it off?" he asked, crossing the room to stand inches behind her, studying her flushed expression in the mirror.
"No, no. Just lace it up please, I don't want to be late," she said breathlessly. Fred gladly obliged, brushing his hands along her shoulder blades and down her back, causing an involuntary shiver to cross her spine before picking up the tangled ribbons and working quickly to sort them out.
Luna took a step away from him when he was done and crossed to the bed where a tiny tutu was laid out. Fred watched as she wrestled with the countless layers of orange and green tulle before she stood before him, hands on hips, looking as proud as punch. The dress wasn't even halfway to her knees; his mother was going to have kittens.
"Well?" she asked, spinning in small circle and giving him the full picture.
"Beautiful, as ever," he complimented, gulping loudly and trying not to drool. That's when he suddenly remembered his gift. "Wait here," he ordered, and raced into the kitchen and wrenched open a pantry cupboard, finding what he was looking for, before skidding back to the bedroom. One hand held his slowly slipping towel and the other was holding out a small plastic box containing a bright orange flower surrounded by green leaves, he had had it under a cooling charm for two days hidden.
"Oh Fred, you really shouldn't have," she said, stepping forward to take the offered corsage.
"It was nothing," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.
"No I mean you really shouldn't have. Didn't you know that Nimbledorks live in green foliage from newly picked orange flowers?" she stated, placing the flower in its unopened case gently on the bed so as not to disturb what may have lurked in there.
"Um, no I didn't. What do Nimbledorks do?" he asked, wondering if they were anything like the Bimblies she claimed lived in the drain in the store room sink downstairs.
"Oh they crawl in under your finger nails and make you write the nastiest things to people. I once heard of a man who told his own Grandmother that she had no fashion sense and that she smelled like a wet dog – the poor woman had a heart attack and died," she explained in hushed tones, now moving about the room, obviously looking for something. He didn't doubt the Grandson had written just that, but he would bet his last galleon that it had nothing to do with Nimbledorks.
Fred studied the flower he and George had spent hours searching the forest floor for, not to mention the added time and cost it took to find a florist who make the corsage just right.
Luna came back to stand by him, her arms now encased in long green silk gloves which matched her gown and a length of orange ribbon dangling from her fingers.
"What's that for?" he asked, watching as she approached the bed with the ribbon.
"To secure the Nimbledork of course, so I can get the specimen to Neville for proper disposal," she stated, slowly lifting the plastic lid and picking up the corsage with gentle fingers.
"Wouldn't it be best if you kept it in the case then?" Fred asked, wondering if he could sell the stupid flower back to the florist who had charged an arm and a leg and part of his right toe to arrange the thing.
"Oh no, we can't let it hit room temperature or it will wake up. It was lucky you had it under a charm this whole time or we could have had ourselves in a pickle," she giggled, sitting down on the bed.
Fred watched in fascination as she spread her legs, he gulped as he caught a glimpse of her black knickers before becoming distracted by what she was doing. Around and around she wove the orange ribbon until her left thigh was decorated from hip to knee; in the middle of it all was one very secure corsage, what Fred would have given to be that Nimbledork right now.
"That's it?" he asked, when she closed her thighs and smoothed her tutu out before standing.
"Yup, my body temperature is too hot for it to wake up so we should be safe for now. I had best wear my cloak until I get to Neville though," she mused.
"That's probably a smart idea," Fred agreed, realising the longer she kept her cloak on the more time he had before his mother started yet another long winded rant about public indecency.
"I'm glad you agree. Now get dressed or we are going to be late," she told him, snatching his towel from his waist as she flounced out the door, no doubt on her way to look for her patented radish earrings. This was already turning out to be a night to remember.
All thoughts of Nimbledorks had fled his mind some hours later as he twirled the woman of his dreams along the dance floor, her tinkling laugh echoing off the rafters as he dipped her dramatically and spun her in wide circles until she was no longer on her feet, quite literally.
Fred had been part way through a spin that would have made an Olympic Ice-Skater jealous, when a drop dead gorgeous woman in a blue dressed had stood up, gaining his attention. It wasn't because she was so striking in heels that no human should be able to walk in, it was because she was heading for none other than his older brother Percy. The fact that Percy, without doing anything at all, could gain the attention of someone who appeared to be so unattainable was enough for Fred, in his slightly tipsy state, to loose his grip and accidentally send his beloved girlfriend crashing to the floor.
Gasps were heard as she fell with a sickening thud and he was no longer interested in his brothers' super human ability to attract women to him like flies but of the welfare of his own woman. It took a moment for Luna to shake herself out of it and by that time he had dropped to his knees beside her and was cradling her head as if it might shatter into pieces.
"Luna, speak to me!" he cried dramatically, as she blinked up at him.
"Bimblies," she said, adjusting her cloak which had become tangled around her long legs.
"Merlin, she's speaking in tongues" George murmured at his side, looking down at his twins' girlfriend.
"You're right George. Quick to the hospital wing!" he shouted the last part as he swept Luna into his arms and ran from the great hall, screaming Emergency at the top of his lungs. Luna laughed from her position nestled against his chest and he wondered if the knock on her head had sent even loopier.
George followed them as they raced toward the marble staircase, taking the stairs two at a time as they manoeuvred the path they still knew off by heart. Luna protested from his arms but he was so focussed on his destination that he payed her no attention, that was until she pinched the skin of his neck between her thumb and forefinger and gave a sharp twist. He swore and nearly dropped her again before looking down.
"What was that for?" he asked, barely slowing down, George was now racing ahead to open doors for them.
"You weren't listening to me! I said I'm fine; you probably just tripped on a discarded Follieswollop. Besides I didn't fall that hard," she explained, squirming to get him to set her down. He just held her tighter and bit his tongue to keep from asking just what a Follieswollop was.
Fred swept her through the doors to the Hospital wing, George running toward the small office at the end of the long room to see if Madam Pomfrey was there. Fred gently lowered Luna to the first cot he reached, smoothing the hair off her face and feeling to see if there were any lumps on the back of her head.
"Oh look, do you think that's the same bottle …" she began, swatting his hands away impatiently, trying to get out of the bed to see the re-grow potion.
"Luna, will you just stop wriggling around?" he finally said, tired of pushing her shoulders back to the pillow.
"Fred, will you stop treating me like a china doll and accept that there is nothing wrong with me?" a faint smile touched her lips, making her harsh words a little softer.
"Sorry," he whispered, leaning down to kiss her soft lips, their moment was interrupted by George running back toward them.
"She's not in her office," George said, looking behind empty curtains to see if the woman in question was hiding.
"Of course she's not here. Didn't you notice her dancing with Professor Flitwick in the Great Hall?" Luna said, giving the twins a vague look before trying to sit back up muttering about wrack spurts this time.
Fred once again pushed her back onto the bed, this time a little too hard because she sprawled back, her cloak falling behind her shoulders, revealing the too short shirt and the blasted orange flower. George seemed to have notice the odd adornment on her leg as well, and Fred recognised the look of vague lust – his brother must have been even drunker than he realised.
"Hey George, I need you to run to do me the biggest favour," Fred said, as inspiration struck and he looked back at his girlfriend, who seemed to be tracing the cracks in the ceiling with her booted toes.
"Sure anything," George agreed eagerly, tearing his eyes away from the blonde woman on the bed.
"I need you to find me a red flower with blue leaves, when you have go and find Pomfrey and give it to her, she will know what to do with it. I will need to stay here and look after Luna,"
"Red flower, blue leaves?" George confirmed.
"Yes, its great for headaches," Fred lied, knowing there was no such flower, and if there was the only place it would be found would be in the Greenhouses, which were a fair hike from the infirmary, not to mention the trip into the Great Hall afterwards.
"Red flower, blue leaves," George muttered to himself, running back toward the double doors and out into the hall, his mutters become louder until he was shouting it at the top of his lungs.
Fred turned back to look at Luna, who still had her foot stuck in the air, humming happily to herself as she created a world out of the cracks high above her in the ceiling. He admired her long shapely leg, so pale in contrast to the blue sheets and orange dress.
He cleared his throat, feeling his pants becoming uncomfortably tight as he caught a glimpse of her underwear again. "Ah Luna?" he called, drawing her attention back to him.
"Yes Fred?" she asked, looking around her leg rather than lowering it.
"Are you sure you are okay?" he confirmed, having trouble taking his eyes from her legs to look at her face.
"Yes, I told you I was fine," she replied cheerily, now swinging both legs in the air in swirls in a bizarre kind of dance. Her small unadorned hands gripped the edge of the cot to keep her from falling off.
Fred watched her fingernails grip the sheets into fists and couldn't help his mind wander toward the other times she had similar reactions. Licking his lips he approached the bed and grabbed hold of her ankles. Luna didn't protest, she tilted her head to look at him as he let his gaze wash over her vulnerable position. He held both ankles with one hand as he used the other to unzip her boots, throwing them over his shoulder when he managed to pull them off.
Without putting much thought into it, he spread her legs and draped them over his shoulders, leaning in so he was almost on top of her and kissing her lips. She sighed against his mouth as his tongue played along the seam of her lips, plunging forth when she opened them for him.
He made love to her mouth for long minutes, exploring its depths with his tongue and moaning when she responded in kind. Her hands were everywhere, her knees resting against her chest as he began to rock against her, his erection brushing against her core. When she began panting against him he moved from her lips to lick and suck his way down her exposed décolletage, her voice raising an octave as massaged her breast and made his way toward her now bare stomach.
Dipping his tongue into her naval repeatedly, he smirked when her hips bucked against him. He placed his palms over her knees to keep her still and shifted so that he was nuzzling her lace knickers, making her breath hitch. He inhaled her clean scent and moved one hand to use his wand to remove the soaked fabric, giving him full access to her intimate folds.
Luna squirmed, moaned and gripped his hair as he teased her sensitive flesh, drawing out the long keening wails he knew could turn to screams with the right manipulation. That type of manipulation came in the form of two long probing digits, his arms wrapping around her thighs to pull her nether lips apart so he could prepare her for him.
"Fred, please," she begged as her inner muscles began to clench around him and the familiar burning sensation swept across her lower body. She was so close to release that she practically tore her hair out when Fred pulled away.
"Not yet," he whispered, shifting off of her long enough to undo his pants under his parted dress robes before taking her lips in another searing kiss. Luna moved one leg off from his shoulder and placed her foot flat against his chest, giving him the perfect angle.
Fred entered her in one strong thrust, causing her back to arch and her mouth to drop open, a gasp suspended on her lips as he filled her. Fred closed his eyes and revelled in her tightness, loving how she flexed her muscles in greeting and the way her feminine folds hugged him to her.
He braced his arms on either side of her head and began to slowly rock into her body, pausing each time he was fully sheathed to press against her over sensitised bud, causing a strangled moan to escape her lips every time. When the sensations became too much she began pushing him with her foot in earnest, setting a steady rhythm until he was pumping into the willing witch with abandon.
She cried out his name as his thrusts created the most perfect friction against her walls and the brush of clothes against her skin sent tingles up her spine. She clutched his forearms and pushed back into him with all her might, feeling the beginnings of her orgasm.
Fred felt it too, the clinging, contracting, almost painful pull of her tight passage as the muscles prepared to give way. He heard her gasp and felt her warm breath wash over his now damp skin, moments before the most amazing milking clasps caressed his aching manhood. He groaned as her pleasure washed over onto him, barely aware that her nails now dug into his forearms or that they could be walked in on at any moment; he was only aware of how good her pulsing body felt beneath his; moments later he found his own release.
When her spasms began to quiet she dropped both her legs from his body, sliding them down until she became a limp mass on the bed. Fred dropped from his elbows, no longer able to support his own weight he curled into his beautiful moon goddess's side. She caressed his hair as he kissed her bare shoulder.
"Are you feeling okay?" he asked softly, his eyes never leaving her face. She had her own eyes closed; her head titled toward the ceiling and the most blissful smile was spread across her face.
"More than okay … I feel like I am floating on the Puffkews of the Mistrinfields," she sighed.
"The what?" he asked, but she just smiled wider before rolling to the side of the too small cot. Fred pushed himself into a sitting position, adjusting his pants before standing up.
"Are we going back to the party?" Luna asked, as Fred knelt on the floor to put her boots back on. He kissed the arch of each foot before zipping the leather up before standing and pulling her to her feet.
"Sure, we can catch George on our way … but no more dancing for you," he grinned, pulling her by the back of the neck to kiss him.
"I love you," he whispered.
"I know," she smiled, before grabbing his hand and practically skipping from the room. Fred smiled at her back and followed.
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