"How often have you agreed to help them out?" Oliver asked her one night.
Over the course of the last few weeks, Oliver hadn't said anything in particular, but Hermione could tell that he was jealous that she spent so much time at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. She had been helping Fred every Thursday night for two months now. Sometimes George would be present during the potion-making bit but never for dinner. Hermione hadn't exactly lied to Oliver, but she hadn't told him the truth either; he was under the impression that George was present at all times. A long time ago she had decided that a little white lie wouldn't hurt Oliver as she didn't want him to worry about Fred. Sure, Hermione found Fred cute, and sure, she found it weird that she was beginning to prefer his company over her boyfriend's, but she brushed it off, telling herself that it was because she had known Fred for so many years that he was practically family.
"There isn't exactly an end-date. I'm just helping out with the different potions for their inventions," she smiled at her boyfriend.
"As long as they're not taking advantage of your helping nature," Oliver frowned while giving her a tender kiss.
"They aren't. And as long as I'm having fun, I don't mind," she sighed and sat down on his lap.
"I know, love. I'm glad you're having fun. But I also know that you can be too nice for your own good," he hummed and kissed her softly. She folded her hands behind his head while he stroke her back lovingly.
As they were kissing, his hands wandered slowly from her back to her front. His thumbs ran in circles over her nipples and he deepened the kiss and pulled her closer while humming softly against her lips.
Her fingers danced down his neck and back and finally found the hem of his shirt. She pulled it slightly and he understood that she wanted him to remove it. He grabbed the white t-shirt by the collar and pulled it over his head, revealing his Quidditch-toned chest. Hermione let her fingers run along his prominent muscles and he pulled her even closer as he deepened the kiss further.
He pulled off her shirt before he easily lifted her up from his lap and laid her down on the table beside them. He was kissing her down her throat and breasts while he pulled off her pantyhose. Hermione was panting in anticipation while she was lying on the table wearing nothing but a bra, her skirt, and her knickers. She could hear Oliver's belt clank as he opened the buckle and pulled down his trousers and pants. He pushed Hermione's panties aside and thrusted into her with force. Hermione closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensation as he moved in and out of her. She loved that Oliver was a beast in bed and that he was able to bring her unimaginable waves of pleasure, but he wasn't caring or passionate in his love-making. Not like Fred had been.
Fred, she thought to herself and felt a pang in her chest. She imagined his freckled shoulders and soft lips. She thought of how it had felt when he had kissed her and how the smell of gunpowder, pine and cloves had felt in her nostrils as he slowly had pushed himself inside her. She imagined his flaming red hair and his slightly calloused hands.
She was ripped back to reality when Oliver grunted above her as he rythmically thrusted in and out of her. The reality of the situation suddenly dawned upon her: She was being fucked by the man that she loved, but couldn't stop herself from feeling empty as she looked up and didn't find a face plastered with mischief and dark green eyes twinkling down at her.