A/N: I wasn't originally going to continue with this but... what can I say? I do have an idea for a third and final chapter, so if you want to see it let me know via that wonderful review button. They make me smile, after all:P
I own nothing, nothing!
It had been a few months since the wedding of Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour. It was a very peaceful time. The dark lord had been defeated, Dumbeldore's portrait had finally woken up to the delight of all, and even Harry got out of his "I'm angsty and emo" stage long enough to get a lap-dance from one of the strippers at Bill's bachelor party. Of course, immediately after he went back to being emo and angsty, but this time with a purpose. Taking a page out of Hermione's book he started campaigning for the rights of strippers.
It was called S.L.U.T. Or, Society for the Lucrative Unification of Transsexuals. (He later learned that his stripper, Candy, was a man. Then he decided that he didn't exactly not enjoy it and that started a whole lot more angsty and emo feelings).
"Woe," said Harry.
Meanwhile, Hermione Granger was having a relatively good time. She was working for the ministry of magic developing cures for some of the more bizarre hexes.
"You have pustules where?" being the sentence most often spoke by her these days.
It was really settling in to be a rather interesting, if not glamourous life. So when she got the owl from Fleur requesting her presence at her and Bill's new home she couldn't help but be a tiny bit curious. Hence, she floo'd immediately only to be rushed into the arms of a sobbing Fleur.
"It is 'orrible, 'orrible!" sobbed the blond, her hair in disarray, her bathrobe opening just a bit to reveal a lacy white bra. Hermione noticed right away and couldn't help but remember the mass of flesh that lay under it, pink and inviting.
"What's horrible, Fleur?"
"I have forgotten to engage in another tradition from my native home of France! Without engaging in this tradition my marriage is sure to fall apart!"
Hermione narrowed her eyes a bit.
"Fleur, look, I was reading up on the last time we executed a "tradition" from your native country and I haven't found anything in any book that actually stated the wife had to play with a virgin friend of hers."
"It is passed orally!" sobbed Fleur, who for a girl with running mascara was quick on her toes.
"Oh. Oh, well, I didn't think of that," said a stumped Hermione, who was beginning to think that traditions in France were passed a lot like herpes. "So what does this one require?"
"After the married couple has their first fight and have forgiven one another the woman must lay with a virgin to be clean of all the negative thoughts surrounding the argument."
"But Fleur! I already told you I'm not a virgin!"
"It didn't matter the first time. It doesn't matter now. Will you help me?" She blinked her eyes and shook her main of hair, sniffling a little just for effect.
"Oh, gosh, I suppose," said the bookworm.
Hand in hand the girls went off to the bedroom. Quickly they discarded of their clothes and went back to exploring one another's bodies. Hermione noticed that Fleur looked a little bit more plump then she did last time, her nipples a little bit more peaky. Hermione ran her hand over them as Fleur gave a delighted little squeak.
"They are sensitive, no?" said Fleur with a saucy grin.
"Very much so," breathed Hermione.
This time Hermione brought her head down to Fleur's blond snatch and ran her tongue over the little nob that was there. Fleur giggled and ran her fingers through Hermione's bushy hair, bringing the other girls face closer to her pleasure point. Hermione inserted a finger into Fleur's folds and stroked, allowing her tongue to play along the lips and clitoris.
Fleur arched her back and exhaled with the pleasure. Bill was also good at the fine art of cunnilingus, but it truly took another woman to know just how to operate another woman's body. She gasped as she came, crying out at the shuddering orgasm.
"Please, let me return the favor," she said to Hermione, who was only too happy to oblige.
Hermione remembered how much she loved it when Fleur played with her breasts. Fleur took the large mounds in her hand and squeezed. Her tongue ran over the mounds as her hands played within the girls folds. They continued on like this for quite sometime before they heard a frustrated groan in the corner.
Throwing off the invisibility cloak, a flushed and bulging Bill Weasley strode out, muttering "You're forgiven, you're forgiven!" and rushing into the bathroom.
"FLEUR!" cried a disgruntled Hermione Granger, whose companion only laughed.
"Forgive me ma fille petite, but I have won the argument, and in France, tradition dictates that the woman always comes out on top."
