Liquid Luck: Theo/Hermione
"Okay," Hermione said to the gold bottle in her hand. It sparkled in the rays of moonlight, as though it contained some sacred secret.
That secret, actually, would be some mysterious pathway of luck laid out before her this evening. Liquid Luck, to be exact. And Hermione wasn't sure how, but what she wanted tonight—desperately needed, in fact—would be given to her thanks to this teeny little collection of potion ingredients, thrown together in the most magnificent of ways, to create Felix Felicis.
She was sitting in a redwood park just outside the restaurant where, in fact, the rehearsal dinner to Ron's wedding was just getting started. She had nothing against it, not really. She was happy for them. She thought Aurora, one of Fleur's cousins, was a sweet and breathtaking lady.
It was more that she felt exponential degrees of pity for herself. And she was getting sick of it.
"Please," she said to the bottle, as though it were listening. "I mean, three orgasms at the minimum. Please." It was three more orgasms than she'd experience with each of her last four lays over the course of the year. She was getting thoroughly tired of bedding men who either had no idea how to touch her or didn't even bother to try.
So, yes, she'd wasted about three paychecks over a mini-bottle of Liquid Luck for the sole purpose of shagging. Was it as pathetic as it sounded?
She knew it was. But it was too late, now, anyway. Felix Felicis was one of those potions with no return policies.
And gods, she needed cock.
So she opened it and tossed it back quickly, letting the taste of oranges and roses glide down her throat.
And, just like that, she felt better. "Mm," she said aloud, to no one. Then she giggled.
x
Hermione gasped as she entered the restaurant. Molly and Fleur had outdone themselves. Pink and peach rose vines intertwined over the walls and ceiling, coming to an apex at the chandelier. Rustic, sea-grey chairs surrounded small round tables which contained centerpieces of levitating, rose-shaped lanterns. Normally, Hermione'd wrinkle her nose at such obvious symbolism, but right now, under the tender guidance of luck, she hummed happily. It was all so romantic.
Witches and wizards had already filled the tables and were working at glasses of wine and appetizers. She knew there was no chance of getting a spot near Gin or Harry—they were part of the wedding party and so had their assigned seats near the couple of the hour—and so she searched along the windows in the back, hoping to find a seat.
She found one. One. Right between Anthony Goldstein and Theo Nott.
She hummed to herself as she made her way to the table. Anthony took notice of her first, his eyes glazing up and down her form. She wore a sleeved tea dress the color of champagne, unbuttoned enough at the top to expose an extraordinary amount of cleavage thanks to the Witch Weekly's Reader-Voted WondrousBra of the Year. Her favorite part of the dress was the skirt, light and airy with its silk-like layers, charmed to swivel prettily with each movement.
Anthony pushed himself up and pulled out the chair when her intentions became obvious. "Is no one sitting here?" she asked.
"Not at all, Hermione." He gave her big smile. He was rather charming, wasn't he? He'd lost some of that baby face he'd had in Hogwarts, and he'd broadened at the shoulders, too.
She glanced to her right, where Theo regarded her with not the contempt she'd feared, but curiosity. "Nott," she said. He gave her a nod and turned to watch something in the distance, taking a sip of wine.
She took a breath and touched the goblet in front of her, which instantly filled itself. "Oh, lovely," she said, taking a long sip.
"They're all spelled to refill, it seems," Anthony said.
"Guess we're in for a fun night, eh?" Hermione chuckled, finishing her first glass quickly.
"You seem chipper," Anthony said. "I thought you might not be here. You know, with your history." He gestured to Ron and Aurora's table.
Hermione thought she'd caught Nott rolling his eyes at Anthony's commentary. She angled herself to face Anthony. "Why wouldn't I be here? I'm so happy for them, and it's just beautiful, isn't it? All these roses." She stood and snapped a dusk-pink bloom off of the wall vine behind her. She grabbed her wand and set it into her hair with a spell, just behind her ear. "That look alright?" she asked Anthony.
"Beautiful," he grinned, failing to discreetly check her cleavage before turning to introduce the rest of the table, filled with aurors she'd met here and there while dating Ron. The only one she hadn't spent some time with was Nott, but then again, he was new to the program, having just joined it after the death of his father.
Servers appeared and set the tables with dishes of lemon-poached salmon and stuffed roast quail, with a variety of butter-laden sides. "Oh!" Hermione said, when her dish was in front of her. "Would you look at that? It's so pretty! And look there, written in some type of vinaigrette, their initials! Is this not the sweetest thing?"
Theo snorted beside her. She was vaguely aware of how absurd she sounded, but she was just too happy to care. She turned and gave him a wink, which he narrowed his eyes at, taking another long swig of wine.
She chatted animatedly with Anthony and an auror named Leah as she ate. Soon, the clanking of goblets was sounded, and everyone quieted to hear the speeches of the Best Man, Harry, and the Maid-of-Honor, Fleur. Hermione dabbed at the corners of her eyes during their toasts, clapping furiously when they finished and the dance floor opened up to a live band.
Theo snorted once again at her display, just loud enough for her to hear. She turned to him. "What is it, Nott?"
He finished his wine and it refilled immediately. He fingered it for a moment and turned to her. "I'm just gonna say it, Granger. Who licked your cunt today?"
She felt the beginnings of shock at such potent vulgarity, but it was quickly soothed away by Felix Felicis. She raised her eyebrows. "That's the whole problem. No one has. Not for ages." She edged her chair close to him, which caused him to open his eyes just a touch wider. He didn't budge as she said, "You wanna know a secret?"
He stared at her for a good few moments before giving a half shrug. She leaned in, until her chin was on his shoulder, just a couple inches away from his ear. "I'm getting lucky tonight."
He shivered. She could tell he tried to suppress it, but as her chin was on him, she felt the involuntary quiver, ever so slight. She was surprised at how much it delighted her. She pulled back just as quickly as she'd leaned in, and adjusted her chair, awaiting his response.
He regarded her carefully. "With whom?"
She grinned. "I've no idea. Care to help me figure it out?"
He glanced around and said, "Well. I've got nothing better on the agenda. Why not." He threw up a hand.
"Okay! Good! This is good!"
He rolled his eyes at her enthusiasm and returned to nursing his wine. She gestured to Anthony, who was in a deep discussion with Leah. "What about Goldstein?" she asked quietly.
"Nah," Theo responded. "He's been pining after Leah for months. Even if she never reciprocates…" he paused. "You want someone who's not thinking of someone else while they're with you."
"Even if it's just for a one-off?"
He gave a gruff nod. "Trust me. It ruins the mood."
"What about Neville?" She nodded to Longbottom, who'd surprised everyone and turned into a tall, chiseled sex-god-looking-creature since graduating from Hogwarts.
"No fucking way."
"Why not?" Hermione retorted. "He looks great."
"So he's been lifting. Doesn't matter. I guarantee Longbottom couldn't eat pussy if his life depended on it."
"And how on earth would you know that?"
He narrowed his eyes. "It's a skill that takes time to learn. Longbottom hasn't looked like that long enough for the prerequisite experience."
"Oh, fine." Hermione huffed and finished her second glass of wine. "Have any recommendations, then?"
He gave a great sigh as though she'd asked him to spend the evening feeding thestrals. He took a gander around the restaurant, eyes flitting from wizard to wizard. "Maybe one of the Weasleys. That older bloke with the face scars."
"Bill? He's married."
"So?"
Hermione wanted to roll her eyes, but instead she found herself entirely amused by such an absurd suggestion. Bill? Really? And compete with Fleur, a goddess among witches? She giggled so hard, she snorted a bit, which caused her to cover her mouth and double in laughter. Eventually, even Theo quirked up the corners of his mouth.
"Ha!" Hermione said, pointing. "You smiled."
"Did not."
"Did too!"
He gave a noise of disagreement, a disgruntled gruff of some sort. Hermione took a long look at him. Theo wore his hair cropped short, and from the looks of how he filled his suit, he, too, had made a habit to "lift" lately. The biggest change, perhaps, was that he'd grown a full beard. Nothing too long. It did him good, framing his full lips, the dark brown of it setting off his hazel eyes.
"What are you looking at, Granger?"
Liquid Luck eased her into speaking exactly what she was thinking. "You. You look handsome, Theo."
"Hmph," he said grumpily, though she noticed that he straightened his back a touch.
She turned when she felt a hand on her shoulder. "There you are," Harry said. "You look nice, Hermione."
"Harry!" She squealed and threw herself into his arms. "Your speech was the best thing I ever heard in my life. Honestly. You should put it in a little booklet and publish it! Gods, who knew you were such a poet?"
Harry stared at her. "How much wine have you had, Hermione?"
"It's not the wine, mate," Theo spoke up from behind them. "She's been like that since she got here."
"Oh, you." Hermione waved Theo off as she put her arm around Harry's. "Want to dance?" she said.
"Sure," Harry responded.
He guided her to the dance floor, where he spun her around so goofily, she got dizzy and nearly fell over, laughing. "Harry! Don't do that!"
"Why not?" Harry asked. "You're fun when you're tipsy."
She hit his shoulder and danced more formally with him as they caught up with one another, until another warm hand came upon her shoulder. "Dean bloody Thomas!" She threw her arms around him. "I haven't seen you in ages!"
"Woah, Hermione. What a welcome," Dean said, tentatively putting his arms around her.
"How are things?!" she asked as she pulled him off the dance floor. As he filled her in on his new teaching position at Hogwarts, she glanced just beyond him and saw Theo, leaned back against his chair, legs positioned wide in a typical "manspread," staring directly at her. She discreetly gestured to Dean, to which Theo slowly shook his head, his lips quirking up in that ever-so-appealing manner.
She bit back an exasperated sigh, but continued to flutter from person to person, chatting up just about any willing witch or wizard, as she felt compelled to just enjoy herself. After a while, the lights came back on, and folks began saying their goodbyes. "Already?" Hermione said, a slight whine in her voice.
"Sorry, darling," Ginny said, kissing her cheek. "We've got to rest up for the wedding tomorrow."
"Right, I almost forgot about it. Oh, it's going to be so wonderful, isn't it, Gin?"
Ginny shook her head. "Hermione, I'm going to find out whatever you've been snorting tonight and make you cut some for me tomorrow."
Hermione giggled and bid her farewells. When she turned to retrieve her bag, she noted that Theo was still at the table, sitting by his lonesome. She marched over to him, hands on her hips. "Have you moved an inch since you got here?"
He didn't even turn his head to look at her. "Took a piss about a half hour ago."
Hermione rolled her eyes and made to leave, but inexplicably, she plopped down in her chair, instead. "So, what's the matter with Dean Thomas?"
"Just got out of a relationship with some witch from Germany. He'd probably weep into your shoulder afterward."
"Well, aren't you the gossip," Hermione said, glancing at the table. "Oh! I missed dessert!" She grabbed a fork and took a bite of the ten-layer chocolate cake, noting that Theo's dessert plate was empty. "You like chocolate," she said.
"Nice deduction, Granger. Perhaps you should join the Ministry's department of investigative aurors."
She chuckled. "What are you even still doing here?" she asked.
"I've been asking myself that about every ten minutes for the last hour, coincidentally enough."
"You've got chocolate on your hand," she said.
He groaned and grabbed a napkin, wiping it away. "So have you found your fuck for the night, then?"
Hermione gestured to the emptying restaurant. "Not yet. But!" She held up a finger. "Maybe I'll meet someone at the hotel!"
"You Gryffindors," he grumbled as he stood, straightening his jacket. "So bloody optimistic."
She got to her feet, as well. "Well, I got especially dressed up tonight." She gestured to her outfit. "If you were just some bloke on the street, wouldn't you think I was pretty? And maybe want to go home with me?"
"You've been acting half-mad all night, Granger. That would give me pause."
"You mean you're not the least bit curious?" She took a few steps toward him, her heels clicking on the marble floor. He stared down at her, throwing a hand in his beard, smoothing it nervously. "Oh, look at that," she said, her voice husky. "You missed a spot of icing." She grabbed his hand, noting how warm and large it was, and put his finger in her mouth.
She knew she should be mortified, and somewhere under the happy influence of Liquid Luck, she was. But as she lightly sucked and swirled her tongue on him, his breath hitched and his lovely pink lips parted. And she could find no regret with her raunchy gesture. None at all.
She released his hand and he simply stared at her for a few moments, his chest moving a bit faster with breath. Finally, he grabbed her waist and pulled her to him aggressively, and bent towards her.
There was a crack of apparition as he transported her along with him. She couldn't find the will to care just yet, as his lips met hers. Theo moved his over hers softly, his hands still at her waist. She ran her own up his arms and finally around his neck as she tilted her head and opened her mouth to his tongue.
Merlin, where on earth did he learn how to kiss like that? The man kissed like… like she was the only woman he'd ever wanted.
She pushed back after a moment and looked around. They were in a fancy hallway of some sort, with gold-lined walls. "Where are we?"
"We're at my hotel. My room is that way." He gestured behind him.
She glanced in the direction and dropped her arms. Sensing her hesitation, he lowered his hands from her waist to his sides.
"I thought you didn't like muggleborns," she said, looking up at him.
"I'll make an exception for you." His words were slow and calculated, but there was a touch of desperation in his throat. Despite that, her face fell at his declaration.
"Uh," she took a step back. "I think I change my mind."
He blinked. "Why?"
She bit her lip. "When you say that. That you'll make an exception for me? It sounds an awful lot like, 'you're pretty or smart or whatever for a muggleborn.' It's just a bit of a turn-off. But that's—that's how you feel, and I don't know what I was expecting. I'm not even sure why—" She felt her face burn and she knew that the Liquid Luck must be on its last leg, if that. "I should go." She turned quickly, trying to figure the way to the lobby, since she wasn't sure she was sober enough to apparate.
"Granger," he said. She stopped and listened to his footsteps approaching. He rounded upon her, his face entirely unreadable.
"Yes, Nott?" she said, looking behind him for an exit sign.
He paused for a moment longer and exhaled. "I'm sorry."
She furrowed her brow. "For…"
"For being a git to you in school. For making you feel small just now." He took a breath. "I haven't bought that pureblood rubbish since I was ten years old."
"Then why did you just say you'd make an exception for me?"
He shook his head. "I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I'm not a verbose man." She snorted as he continued. "I just said the first thing that came to me, something I thought would make you feel good. But it was shite and I'm sorry."
She bit her lip. "How do I know you're not lying? I mean, as nice as this sounds, it's rather convenient timing for this sort of confession, wouldn't you say?"
He shrugged. "You could ask Malfoy. He and I argued for years over whether or not muggleborns were mud."
"Malfoy's not around."
"I know." He sighed. "Look, I don't know how to prove it to you. All I know right now is I haven't been able to take my bloody eyes off you since you put that flower-thing in your hair. And all evening, I've been hoping to Salazar you wouldn't go home with some other sodding wanker. And fuck, Hermione." She widened her eyes at the sound of her name on his tongue. He closed the space between them with two wide steps. "I want to lick you until you forget your own fucking name. And then I want to pound into you until you forget mine."
His words made her wet. She knew it as he was saying it, as the warmth between her legs began to throb. She closed her eyes to steady her feet.
"Granger?"
"Hmm?"
"Are you gonna let me?"
She bit her lip and nodded. "Yes." He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a kiss that made her knees buckle.
X
The stumble into his room was probably more awkward than necessary, given their mutual reluctance to break their frenzied make-out session at any point. Once inside, Theo dropped the wand he'd used to open the wards and ran his hands over her hips, up to her waist, his fingers hovering at underwire of her bra. And as he did this, Hermione sucked on his bottom lip until he groaned softly and shoved his jacket down his arms and onto the floor.
He tore off his tie and ran his lips on her neck, waiting until he found a spot that made her whimper, then he'd graze his teeth and suck so that her hands trembled, delaying her unbuttoning of his dress shirt. He set to work on the upper buttons of her dress, and after about two, seemed to decide their efforts took much too long for his liking, and ripped his own shirt off and pulled her entire dress to the floor all in one motion.
She blinked at him for a couple seconds as buttons rattled on the tile. "I liked that dress," she said.
"You're a witch." he responded. "Reparo later." He lowered his head to her cleavage and she immediately forgot what she was just irritated over.
She unbuckled his belt as he unclasped her bra, sending it flying somewhere behind him. Hermione watched closely as he ogled her breasts, taut and smooth with dark nipples. She glanced down. "Sorry, I know the bra made them look bigger but—" He interrupted her by taking one into his mouth, lapping at the pebble of it as she arched her chest into him and moaned. He turned and worked his tongue on the other one, shoving her knickers to her ankles. She stepped out of them when he grabbed her bottom, lifting her to the nearby dresser.
She gasped when he dropped and ran his tongue over her slit, not expecting it quite so soon. He was gentle at first, much too gentle given how long it'd been and how aroused she was already. "More," she pleaded, which he took to mean faster. But no, she'd meant harder, and eventually, she pushed his face into her pussy, and she nearly came at the friction between her and his beard.
Predictably, Theo had been a rather quiet lover so far, but when she got rougher with him—pulling his hair, scratching him with her nails, grinding herself on his tongue—he gave deep groans which made her hair stand up.
He finished her off by giving her clit several enthusiastic sucks between his lips. "Oh, gods, Theo," she moaned when she came, startled by a warm gush between her legs. When he rose, she could see that his beard was dripping.
Her face burned as she caught her breath. "Was that—did I—are you—?"
"You've never squirted before, Granger?"
She shook her head, certain her cheeks were the color of the rose in her hair. But he didn't look disgusted. In fact, he looked rather pleased as he gave his face a wandless scorgify and pulled his cock out of his trousers.
She wrapped her legs around his waist as he sank into her. He paused for a moment to look directly in her eyes. She was startled by the flecks of gold in his, and she cupped his face in her hands, kissing him deeply as he resumed his thrusting.
His body was lean, with cuts of muscle jutting agreeably in his arms and stomach. He bore a light layer of chest hair which led a pathway down to the thatch of medium-brown curls above his package. He kept his eyes closed as he pumped, occasionally letting a growl escape his throat. She saw that his eyelashes were thick and long, and a dark beauty mark dotted his bottom lip line.
Perhaps noticing how quiet she was, he opened his eyes, slowing his movements. "How do you like to be fucked, Granger?"
"This is good," she said, pulling his hips toward hers hard, earning a loud smack of skin and a low whimper from his lips.
"Granger," he repeated, an almost feral warning in his voice as he stopped moving and put his hands on her arms. "How do you like it?"
He put a thumb to her clit and dragged it in circles, causing her to whine. "I—uh—gods. On my back. With my legs up."
He picked her up and tossed her in the middle of the bed. Crawling upon it, he pushed her legs up, until her calves were nearly at her head, and slid himself into her. She couldn't control the moans as he thrust, arching her back so much that she felt like she was levitating away from the bed. "More," she said desperately, and this time, he understood, pounding into her so hard, the headboard clattered against the wall.
Her entire body spasmed as what appeared to be ten orgasms rolled into one overcame her. She briefly wondered if someone could die of pleasure, when finally, it started to subside. She looked up in time to watch Theo come apart with a soft moan, his eyes on hers. When he collapsed over her, she ran her fingers lightly over the goose bumps on his back and bottom.
For a few minutes, the only movement that occurred was in their breathing. Eventually, Theo pushed himself up and to the side, facing her. She turned herself to him, her fingertips grazing his beard. He gave her a gentle smile.
"I like it," she said. "The beard."
"Mm," he responded.
She rolled her eyes. "Back to your caveman responses already?"
He gave her a look. "Fine, Granger. I'm glad you like my beard. That better?"
She smiled. "Not quite, Theo. But I guess I'll take what I can get." She rolled off the bed and started picking up her clothes.
He put his arms behind his head. "What are you doing?"
She pulled her bra on and snapped the clasp together. "I'm leaving. Have you seen my knickers?"
"Why?"
"Because they're very nice knickers and I've only worn them twice and—"
"No, not that. Why are you leaving?"
"Well, I mean, it's a little late for another go, especially 'cause of the wedding tomorrow."
"Hmph," he said.
She pulled on her knickers, grabbed her wand and went to work at repairing her dress. She didn't noticed that Theo had flung himself off the bed until he snatched the dress from her arms.
"Bloody hell, Nott, I'd nearly gotten all the buttons! What was that for?"
"Stay with me."
She sighed. "I told you, we can't."
"Stay the night, Granger."
She raised her eyebrows. "Oh! You mean for sleeping."
"Yes. That."
"Well…" she bit her lip, looking around. "Do you have a shirt I could wear?"
He looked unbearably relieved as he levitated a green t-shirt from his armoire into her arms. She took it to the bathroom along with her purse, where she'd packed her toothbrush and other toiletries (with the anticipation of a successful shag at the end of the evening). After washing up, she took the rose out of her hair and placed it on the sink, giving it a freshening spell. Then she unclipped her curls, letting them fall upon her shoulders. She pulled on his shirt, deciding to forgo all underthings.
He entered the room as she left, presumably to do much the same. She pulled the sheets up to her chest and after a few minutes, felt him rustling into the covers.
She rested her head on her arm as she angled herself to him. "So, Nott. Are you a snuggler?"
He snorted. "Do I look like a bloody Hufflepuff to you?"
She sighed and turned to her back, wondering why he'd even asked her to stay. "Get the lamps, would you?"
He picked up his wand and did so. Afterward, they were only lit with the dim blue of streetlights streaming around the curtains.
He reached out and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her tightly. She tilted her head towards his. "I thought you didn't like snuggling."
"Hmph," he said. He grabbed and kissed her hand.
She smiled, resting her head on his chest, and they drifted to a happy sleep.