23 July 1997
"Is it safe to come in?" Fred asked through the door of their workroom in the back of the shop; Hermione, having commandeered two of their brewing stations the day before, had been experimenting with some rather volatile ingredients. So the question, while seemingly peculiar, was warranted.
"Yes, all clear!" She called back, placing another air-filtering charm over the simmering cerulean potion, just in case. To her left there was another with a cloudy-grey concoction that, despite having a burning-effect on one's eyes if they stood near it for too long, seemed closer to what she was trying to achieve.
Fred poked his head around the door, having been manning the till while Lee circulated the floor during their afternoon rush. Or, rather, what constituted a rush in the current economic climate. But the boys assured her, and anyone else they asked, that they were doing fine.
"That package of chizpurfle fangs that you ordered just came in," Fred said, shutting the door behind him and placing a small brown parcel on the edge of the table. Her eyes swept over him in open appreciation; he was wearing dark jeans and a white WWW tshirt that hugged his arms and, gosh, wasn't she a lucky witch?
"Oh, perfect. I should be able to add that to this one…" she did a little mental math, looking back at the grey potion and nibbling the corner of her lip, "… after eight this evening."
"And the other?" Fred asked curiously, eyeing the second cauldron.
"I think that might be a lost cause," she admitted, prodding the blue substance with a silver stirring rod. It had become increasingly viscous in the last hour, and she was pretty sure that if not for the filtering charms, the fumes would swiftly render the both of them unconscious.
"Are you sure I can't do more to help?"
"You're doing more than enough," Hermione assured, shaking her head. He'd not only literally put a roof over her head, but he'd provided her with virtually unlimited potion ingredients and a quiet work space to boot. And, unlike when she stayed with Molly and Arthur, those things didn't come with excruciatingly obvious supervision or a list of household chores. "I just need to keep toying with it."
She took off the stained apron that had been tied around her waist and crossed the room, wrapping her arms around Fred's middle and burrowing into him. It had been nearly a week since she'd left her parents' house and, though the ache in her chest had eased substantially, she found herself clinging to her partner a little more fiercely at times. He, by all accounts, didn't seem to mind.
"So," Fred mused, pressing his lips lightly to the top of her head, "You're declaring trial five a failure, and trial four won't be ready for another addition until after dinner. Which means that right now, you're doing…?"
Hermione grinned impishly and looked up at him. "Nothing."
"Right, then."
Before she pieced together what was happening, Hermione suddenly found herself with her rear end in the air and a shoulder digging firmly into her midsection.
"Fred!" She shrieked with a disbelieving laugh, placing a hand on his lower back to steady herself, "Put me down!"
"No," he replied cheerily, reaching up to give her ass a firm smack before heading toward the exit. One arm holding her behind the knees, he used his other hand to open the door back into the shop.
"Fred, there you are. Do you know if we have any –?" Lee cut off abruptly upon turning around, raising a speculative eyebrow. He was silent for a moment and then bent at the waist and contorted his neck to look Hermione in the eye – a feat, given her face was level with Fred's belt loops. And obscured by her hair. And upside down. "Alright, Hermione?"
"Magnificent," Hermione assured him with feigned ease, all too aware that they were starting to draw some looks from the people browsing the store. "You?"
"Did you have a question?" Fred interrupted, as if nothing remotely out of the ordinary were occurring.
"Nothing that can't wait," Lee assured, straightening up and pressing his lips together to keep from laughing. It failed spectacularly.
"Great," Fred said, on the move again toward the stairs to the flat, "Then I'm taking my lunch. Verity should be in soon."
A small collection of preteen boys in the corner began to hoot and clap as they disappeared around the doorframe and, despite the wards preventing it, Hermione tried very hard to apparate herself into the middle of the English Channel.
When they finally reached the flat, and subsequently entered it, Fred kicked the door shut behind him and finally bent to place Hermione back on her feet.
She immediately started trying to straighten herself, running a hand through her hair, fallen from its loose knot, and righting her shirt, which had ridden up nearly to her breasts. "What the hell was that f—?"
But before she could finish her question, Fred had driven her backward against the door, hands gripping her hips firmly and lips burning a track along the column of her throat. With a surprised gasp, her hands fluttered helplessly in the air for a second before she wrapped her arms around his neck and arched into him. The bra she was wearing didn't have any padding and her nipples brushed his chest with delicious friction.
"What's all of this for?" she asked breathlessly against his lips a few minutes later, reaching a hand down to place it on the erection that was suddenly straining the front of his trousers and pressing into her lower stomach.
Fred braced a hand on the door beside her head and pulled back just enough to level her with a gaze that, in and of itself, nearly made her melt.
"I don't need a reason to want to fuck you, Hermione," he said in a low, wry voice. Her pulse was fluttering in her throat, and she felt like her veins were carrying fire through her body instead of blood.
Without breaking eye contact, Fred snaked a hand between them and flicked the button of her jeans open, tugging the zipper down and slipping a hand into her knickers.
Her breath hitched as he ran a finger along the seam of her pussy before dipping in languidly.
He smiled, glancing down quickly and then back at her. She knew that she was wet, and now he did too. "What's all of this for?"
Hermione licked her lips and stared right back, fighting to keep her eyes open as he pressed a second finger into her and ground the heel of his palm against her clit.
"I don't need a reason to want to fuck you."
Fred chuckled and then ducked to kiss her again, working his fingers in and out of her in rhythm that had her heart pounding and her nails digging into his shoulders for traction.
"Don't stop," she begged, tipping her head back against the door as he pushed her closer and closer to the edge. She tried to spread her thighs open further but the taught fabric of her jeans prevented it, drawing a growl of frustration from her and another laugh from him. "Please don't stop."
Fred was supporting the bulk of her weight by that point, one arm wrapped around her lower back while the other hand played over her like a damn concert pianist.
Hermione was panting, her abdomen tightening and stars blooming behind her eyelids. She was going to come. She was going to come, standing up and fully clothed in the middle of the bloody living room at two in the afternoon.
"Good," Fred murmured into her ear as he continued to work her, "So good. Come for me, just like that."
With a cry, her orgasm overtook her and her legs nearly gave out, Fred pinning her tight to the door as she shook and the wooden panel rattled in its frame.
"Fuck, Hermione," he bit out through clenched teeth, chest rising and falling rapidly as she became aware of her surroundings again. He slowly pulled his hand from her pants and placed it on her bare hip, fingers still hot and slick against her skin. "I need to be inside of you."
A little blissed-out and dazed from her climax, Hermione rolled onto her toes and placed her lips beside his ear, whispering teasingly, "Then what are you waiting for?"
Before he could respond she, without letting herself think about it too much, leaned forward and bit his neck where it connected to his shoulder. It wasn't hard enough to draw blood, but it was close, and after just a second she let go and lapped at the mark with her tongue.
The string of expletives that followed was exquisite.
Though the logistics were a bit blurred, after a little stumbling she found herself sprawled on their bed with her jeans and knickers being rather unceremoniously yanked from around her ankles. Fred stripped in record time while she shucked her own shirt and bra, and then he was on top of her, resting in the cradle of her hips with his cock prodding her entrance.
"Shit, the charm," he groaned, starting to lean away, but she shook her head.
"I started the potion this week," Hermione explained, reaching down and guiding him back until the tip of his cock was just barely inside of her. He shuddered and nodded, then, in one thrust, he was buried in her.
In that first moment as she felt him, truly felt him, the thrum of his pulse and the breath in his chest and the way his blunt nails left little crescent marks where they dug into her skin, she marveled at it. She'd assumed there'd be a falling-off point, that there would have to be. After x number of days or months or years together, the heat and the want would fade, at least a little bit, but it hadn't. It might be naïve, but she was starting to think it never would.
She wrapped her legs tightly around him just as he started to move and Fred made a satisfied sound in his throat that sent a thrill through her. It was primal and masculine and she loved it.
"Trust me?" Fred asked, breathing hard as he rocked his hips forward into her. It was a silly question, really; he knew that she trusted him, absolutely, but she nodded anyway.
"Always."
With a quiet grunt, Fred leaned back as far as he could without pulling out of her, then he reached down and hooked an arm around her, tugging her up into a seated position on top of his thighs with her knees bracketing his hips. Then he extended his legs behind her so he was also sitting.
It was —
"Oh wow," she breathed, sinking down onto him. It was deep. It was really, really deep, almost uncomfortably so.
Fred kept one hand on her and placed the other behind them to keep the whole affair steady. In this position, they were almost face to face with her seated just a little higher than him.
"Good?" Fred asked, looking up and searching her expression with eyes as hungry as they were earnest.
"Fantastic," Hermione affirmed with an unfettered moan, rocking forward a little and hissing as he pressed into her g-spot.
Fred reached up and gripped her throat just below her jaw with his free hand, pulling her mouth back to his as they started to move. It took a moment to find the right rhythm but, once they did, it proved very, very effective.
"I'm never going to stop wanting you," Fred vowed to her between labored breaths, inadvertently echoing her own thought from earlier. The afternoon light reflecting in from the open, double-hung windows made the blue of his eyes almost shimmer, like being under water and looking up at the sun.
"Good," Hermione replied, sweat slicking her lower back as she rode him. She traced her fingertips over the pale bruise already forming where she'd bitten him. "Because you're mine."
Dragging her nails with careful pressure up the back of his neck, she knotted a fist tightly into his hair. Then she tipped his head back, a little forcefully, leaning forward to ghost her lips over his. She didn't let them touch though, just breathed him in. Fred's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open a little. "Hermione."
She kept her lips there but pulled her hips up, then she rocked forward hard, leveraging on his shoulders and taking him as deep as she could in a hard, measured movement. She was getting close and she could tell that he was too, that she was pushing him to the edge, and it made her feel like a fucking goddess.
"Every breath in your lungs," she whispered with another thrust, "every hair on your head," thrust, "every time you take your cock in your hand and make yourself come without me," thrust, "it's still all mine. Do you understand?"
"Yours," Fred whispered, nodding and swallowing hard.
"Mine," she said again levelly, with a small, satisfied smile. "Now, you're going to come for me, okay?"
"Yes," he replied.
He looked a little vulnerable, and very clearly aware that, at least for that moment, the power had shifted between them dramatically, in a way it hadn't before. But he certainly didn't seem upset about it; in fact, there was a heated sort of curiosity in his expression that made her stomach flutter.
"Yes, what?" she prompted, tightening her fingers in his hair so much that it had to be painful.
"Yes," he panted, his whole body shuddering, "I'm going to come for you."
Hermione picked up the pace a little, not letting her grip on him go. Though his hand was still on her waist, he wasn't urging her forward anymore. She was in control, and he was letting her be.
Everything felt good, and after some indeterminate amount of time that could have been either seconds or decades, Fred started to stutter. "Fuck I'm – I'm going to –"
Only then did Hermione close the tiny gap between them and press her lips to his, swallowing what he was going to say as well as the groan that followed it as he fell apart under her.
She kept kissing him as her own orgasm struck, until she finally had no choice but to pull away, gasping for breath and falling forward against his shoulder in a boneless, spent heap.
Fred carefully lowered them backward, so he was flat on the mattress with her draped over his chest.
It was silent for long, quiet moments, as she listened to his heart slow in his chest and he traced his fingertips over her spine.
"That was…" he started and then trailed off with a heavy exhale and a shake of his head.
"Did I hurt you?" she asked uncertainly, feeling substantially more self-conscious in the aftermath than she had about it in the moment. She'd bitten him, for Merlin's sake.
"A little," Fred admitted, but he sounded rather chuffed about it. She wriggled to see his face and, sure enough, there was a bemused, thoughtful smile on it.
"And?" she probed.
He raised a single copper brow consideringly and then met her gaze head-on. "And I might just ask you to do it again."
A thrill ran through her at that. Dominance and submission weren't totally foreign concepts, but, until today, she'd normally defaulted to the latter.
Hermione nodded and let her head fall back onto his chest.
"Where did you learn the position?" she asked curiously, idly circling her finger through a smattering of ginger chest hair.
Fred grinned. "Verity left one of her muggle magazines in the storeroom and, would you believe, they had a whole article on positions to shag in? Little diagrams and everything."
Hermione laughed, all too familiar with such publications thanks to Lavender and Parvati.
"Well, remind me to thank Verity."
oOoOoOo
"Are you coming?" Angelina asked, ducking into the workroom where Hermione had once again taken up residence after dinner.
"Yes, just one more drop…" Hermione added a final drop of sunflower oil to the cauldron, grinning when it developed an iridescent sheen. "Perfect, that's what I was hoping would happen."
"What are you working on?" Angelina asked curiously as Hermione placed a stasis on the cauldron and joined her, both of them heading swiftly through the vacant showroom and toward the basement stairs. "Something for the shop?"
"No, it's a personal project," Hermione sidestepped vaguely as they hit the bottom landing and started the trek through the shelves until they arrived in the clearing against the opposite wall. Tonks was at the front of the space, already talking and demonstrating the motion for a spell whose purpose Hermione hadn't heard.
The girls quietly tucked in beside Fred and George near the back.
After a few more demonstrations and reminders, the whole ensemble broke into pairs to practice dueling. Hermione started with Bill, who was ridiculously skilled, if a little too hung-up on having perfect form and execution. She was sympathetic, because it was a handicap that she suffered too, but that didn't mean she wouldn't exploit it.
"Bloody hell, Granger," the eldest Weasley muttered, getting to his feet after she revived him from a stunner she'd barely managed to land. It had taken conjuring a toy truck and tripping him. "My brother is brave man; I'd hate to actually be on your bad side."
"Your fiancé's relatives grow wings and throw balls of fire when they're angry," Hermione pointed out. "And your mum and sister are two of the most vicious people that I know. I think maybe Weasley men just attract dangerous women."
"You might be onto something," Bill admitted, rubbing his elbow where he'd landed on it.
There was a sudden shout across the room; Lee had sent some sort of orange hex at Oliver that went wide and bounced off of the perimeter ward. It was headed straight for Fred's back, who was engrossed in a duel with Katie and not paying attention.
It wasn't anything too harmful, because they didn't use those sorts of spells in practice, but it didn't matter. Instinct took over and before Hermione could even think about it, she raised her hand and a blue-white shield wrapped around Fred and absorbed the spell a split-second before it struck.
Everyone else stopped and, abruptly encased in bubble of magic, Fred finally realised something had happened and looked around in confusion. His eyes finally met hers and Hermione quickly lowered the shield, blushing a little.
She was just thinking of something to say to shift the attention off of her when Kingsley let out a low whistle.
"You weren't kidding, Fred," he said, striding over from where he'd been talking with Tonks in the corner. "She's quick with a shield charm."
"Oh, I'm – I'm not –"
"Wandless and nonverbal, too," Fred confirmed, quite a bit of pride in his tone as he headed toward them. He looked down, having apparently pieced together what happened. "I was about to get nailed with something, yeah?"
"Yes," she admitted. "I just happened to look up at the right time."
"Sorry!" Lee called from across the room and everyone chuckled.
"S'alright, mate!" Fred shouted back, then made a general shooing motion with his hands. "Now everybody, get back to your knitting."
Bill gave Hermione a pat on the shoulder and then went over to take Fred's place with Katie as they all started up again.
"You'd make a decent auror, Hermione," Kingsley said appraisingly, though he laughed in his deep baritone when she immediately wrinkled her nose at the notion. "Or… not?"
"No offense, Kingsley," she said, "But if I survive this bloody war, I'm not going to be signing up to fight more dark wizards. You can go ahead and take care of all that without me."
Fred snorted and slung an arm around her shoulders.
"Well, regardless of any future career decisions," Kingsley said, "I'll feel perfectly safe with you covering my back Saturday night."