A/N JK Rowling created the alohomara charm for opening things. If it came with a warranty, what I did with it probably voided it. If you already knew what the spell does and you are thinking what I am thinking you are thinking, you guys are way dirtier than I am.
"It's possible," mused Trelawney, pushing her enormous spectacles back up her nose. "There would have had to be a trigger, perhaps the orb drawing power along with the desired images and then signalling? It's only a hypothesis of course, but the orbs are really very poorly understood and treated like toys. Visioning is an art you know," she defended her craft. "Presenting from the spirit world takes great deal of power, mind, so it would have to be worth her while – what's in it for her I wonder?"
"I know it's possible! She's not exactly in the spirit world is she? I'm telling you, she was there, in my rooms. Longbottom saw her last night," McGonagall paced back and forth across the Turkish rug covering the small open space in the Tower, "I've never had to obliviate a student before in my entire teaching career!"
Trelawney rifled under the long cloth over the circular table between them and extracted a clear crystal ball and shiny ebony stand. She set one atop the other and gave the clear glass a swift flash over with her sleeve to brush off the lint. "Did she say anything? Anything at all?"
McGonagall clicked her tongue in annoyance, "no! I thought it was Peeves and his pet Boggart mucking about until I realised I could hear her..ugh it doesn't matter. She is here. Spare me the theatricals, just tell me what she is up to. What is she doing now?"
"Manifesting, I think, although I've never seen it done quite that way before" said Trelawney dreamily, entirely focused on the ball clouding up in front of her. She huffed on it gently.
"My rooms again?"
"No, I can see a hill, there's someone there."
"Who?"
"Two actually, ahhh, he's eating her face. So like his father in his day, promiscuous little bar steward, never could decide if he wanted to be a bottom or a top. Oh, I think they're errr, didn't know they were a couple…hmm, maybe not so much like his father then if she's got ahem, a hold of him. Well, that clears up a few things, oh my eyes, no, no, it's all right, they're stopping. Get up! Get up!" Trelawney flapped her hands in agitation. "It's behind you!"
In the ball, the mist drew back exposing more of the scene below. Lozenge shaped, pale green, willow leaves fell in a steady stream from the tree at the top of the hill, tumbling and turning down the hill in a breeze that stirred nothing else. Just yards from two prone figures, a humanoid figure coalesced, painfully slowly, from the feet upwards.
"Sybill, WHO is on the hill?" Even without the answer, McGonagalls stomach was already dropping.
"Hermione and Diggorys boy," Trelawney clicked her fingers, "Sidney."
Trelawney looked up myopically from the ball, just in time to see McGonagalls horrified face and her pulling out her wand to disapparate.
"You'll need a coat!" called Trelawney. "It's going to rain!" She frowned at the flurry of air that marked her colleagues passing and waved a hand at the fringe on the rug, which dutifully straightened itself before she turned again to the crystal.
"Wow, I never saw Helens do that," she whispered to the empty room. The conversation going on in the sphere sounded like the faint, high-pitched squeaking of a wheelbarrow, pushed protesting, over rough ground. She pulled an ancient hearing trumpet from the squat bookshelf beside her and bent it into a 'C' shape. Placing the narrow end on the sphere and settling her ear as close as possible to the flared end, she could both see and hear.
0.0
"What the hell?" Cedric watched the ribbon of leaves fall into place, two feet, ankles, shins and knees. The leaves in place twitched and shivered, jostling their neighbours to find the best fit and even then they were never still, building upwards to the suggestion of thighs and hips. He sucked briefly at the torn flesh on his wrist, lapping away his own blood.
"S-s-s-i-s-t-e-r," a wave of sound rippled over the grass, temporarily disturbing the building figure.
Cedric scrambled to his feet, pulling a breathless Hermione up and stepping purposefully between her and the figure. "Me?" she gasped.
Cedric watched in silence as the orb rolled past them. The figure of a white hare raced inside it, occasionally spinning the whole way over before flying at full stretch again to power the orb up the hill. A leafy hand scooped it out of the grass and settled it on a stalky neck. The ribbon of leaves dwindled away, furnishing the figure with a full head of persistently unsettled 'hair.'
Hermione elbowed Cedric out of the way and pointed her wand. The Vine coiled around Hermiones hand forming a full guard between the butt and the rest of the rod. Prickles emerged across the external surface, each with a razor sharp, reddish tip across it and magic earthed between the rod tip and each of the pickles in turn. Cedric stepped to one side to pass her again, but she mirrored his movements and briskly snapped the fingers of her left hand. He offered his left hand, palm uppermost, steadying himself for the tug of magic that didn't come. He could feel the hum of magic buzzing under her skin, so much more than when they had worked in tandem and already easily the match for any of his peers.
The hare in the orb flattened weirdly against the curve of the sphere, morphing into a womans face that smiled in genuine delight and was oddly familiar.
"I don't think so," Cedric said softly.
"Daughter, rest, I am not your enemy," the figure gestured to Hermiones wand and continued, "you out do me. Never was I able to conjure my wand so versatile a weapon." Hermiones' wand tip bobbed with her indecision and Cedric placed a warning hand on her shoulder. The figures gaze flicked to the boy behind her, and the ring on his wand by her ear.
"I so loved," the orb jerked in a nod and then the figure pointed directly to Cedric.
"Daughter?" Hermione whispered, "the bound wand, there was a Vine-wielder with the bound wand, you?" The figure dropped its arm in a sinuous motion, the face saddened.
"S-severus, so hard he tried to keep me, indecision his only misdeed. We Women of the Vine are so strong in life, we draw others to us unknown, we are shield and strength for our souls, speakers and seers for the lost. We share to our cost and men have jealous minds."
Hermione shifted uncomfortably, "he's with me," but she couldn't bring herself to speak the lie, I trust him.
"More than men," the figure corrected sardonically. "Your suitors are many, the man who mourns the living and is not yet a man also loves, in his way. He would not bring you to salt and would not have you mourn alone. You have bound, but yet you bargain, time is short. He comes." The figure closed its eyes and smiled again, gesturing once more to Cedric. "See inside the man who waits for you."
"You're speaking in riddles, I don't understand!" Hermione growled, frustrated, see inside Cedric – what was that supposed to mean? "What happened to your wand? Is it the same as mine?"
"Knowledge is faster thus," the figure reached out a leafy mitten that separated into fingers. For the first time, the figure looked to be a hurry, waggling the fingers in invitation.
Hermione hesitated, to touch it, she would have to give up Cedric. His presence was a solid warmth behind her, the grip of his fingers bit into her shoulder, but he loosened the weave of their joined fingers, allowing her to choose.
"Ah, s-s-s-i-s-t-e-r," the leaves on the willow hissed.
Robes flapping in the rising wind, McGonagall stormed up the hill and wasted no time in striking first, narrowly missing the students. "Incendio!"
Flames licked over the figures hair as the second shot shredded a shoulder in a shower of leaves. "Don't you touch her, Witch! You will take nothing more from me!" McGonagall fumed. "I banish you with fire," ball after ball of flame tore through the figure rapidly reverting to a ribbon and twisting its way at head height, back up the hill to the Willow. The ashes where they formed were not allowed to fall, but were whisked away, spread to the four corners of McGonagalls fury.
"Move!" McGonagall howled at Cedric and Hermione, her speed slowing as the hill and a legacy of tobacco took their toll.
Cedric reacted first, spinning Hermione out of harms way so that she had to clutch at him to keep upright. The next fireball caught the orb full on, knocking it from what remained of the figures shoulders.
"Leave!" McGonagall urged, dismantling the figure limb by limb. The orb rolled unseen, uphill, to nestle in a hollow at the foot of the willow.
Cedric needed no further prompting and dragging Hermione closer, stated a destination firmly and broke the rules about disapparating without a licence.
0.0
"I scatter you with air," McGonagalls voice was a rasp in Trelawneys ears, who spoke the words in tandem with her friend. McGonagall ripped sod from the ground and plunged her fingers in the soil, "I bind you with earth." Trelawney looked wildly about her and in the absence of anything better, stuffed her hand in a bowl of pot pourri. "I cleanse you from this life, into the next with water," McGonagall choked on tears, dropping to her knees as the rain began to fall. In the Tower, water from a carafe dripped off Trelawneys nose.
There was a stillness and then the hint of a voice whispering sibilantly, shaking the leaves on the Willow where the branches creaked and stretched, "s-s-s-i-s-t-e-r." The windows in the Tower rattled like someone was trying to get in.
"There should be three!" squeaked Trelawney, stuffing her hands in her mouth.
"Three," repeated McGonagall, swiping at her cheeks, "there must be three. I will see you into the next world yet, sister dear."
The smallest suggestion of a peal of laughter touched Trelawney. Something scritched against the window panes, sounding like briars in the wind and she snatched the hearing trumpet from her crystal ball and threw it across the room.
0.0
The first thing Hermione did, when they apparated in the fifth floor corridor, was clout him.
"You idiot! She raged, "we could have been splinched, or worse! What were you thinking? What if I couldn't keep up? What if we were thinking of different Rooms of Requirement!"
"There's only one Room of Requirement. Are you going to be sick? It gets people that way sometimes, the first time. I was thinking about you not being incinerated by your head of house," he reached a hand towards her hair, nonchalantly suffering her wrath, the only time he flinched is when she aimed for his face. She tried to read his expression, it looked studious except for his mouth that curved around his words and looked like it was having too much fun without her. "Or being possessed by whoever is in the willow, I think I know who that is, she never talks about her, but McGonagall is a twin-, was a twin." He ducked for the next blow and reached for her hair again and she slapped his hand away.
"Geez, I don't know how Ron stands it, poor git. You have something in your-"
"Ron? He- Stop touching me!"
"Hair." He plucked out the remains of a willow leaf, charred at one end, yellow and spotted with age across what was left of it. He held it up for her inspection. "Helen."
"What?" Hermiones face screwed up in confusion. Here she was, trying to express her frustration at his gross stupidity and here he was, conducting a conversation as if nothing at all was the matter.
"Who. Helen is who is in the tree," Cedric grinned. "McGonagalls twin, she said you had bound my wand and you know what that means."
"No, not really." Hermione eyed his face suspiciously, "but you do, don't you?"
"It means I know that McGonagall knows about Vine wands," he said. Hermione thought he sounded shifty and like he was subtly changing the subject.
"Did you take that page from Advanced Arboreal-"
"No! Maybe. Take is such a strong word." He fidgeted.
"Cedric," she poked him in the chest, hard enough to make the shirt wrinkle under her finger. One of them would have to go back for his sweater and robes.
"Ow," he said deadpan, his gaze fixed on the blush racing up her neck.
"Where. Is. The. Page?" she punctuated with pokes that got slower as his smile widened with each touch. The smug swine was enjoying this.
"Snape has it."
"Severus? Wait, the willow said that she so loved, she bound a wand, Professor Snapes wand? But his wand doesn't have a ring."
"First name terms, well aren't you two cosy. Snapes wand has a bridge, ever wondered why?
"What else do you know that you're not telling me?" Hermione fumed.
Cedric pulled at the knot of his tie. "You bound my wand." He looked up and down the corridor.
"Something I don't know!"
"I am. You bound my wand, what you did, not your wand. Sprout said a Vine will try anything on for size, but they don't stick, not usually, not unless the person on the end of the wand wants it to."
"Yours stuck," Hermione said stupidly, mesmerised by the thin tail of his tie slipping under his collar.
"And another thing, I always finish what I've started."
"Finish? Started?" He was undoing his cuffs, Hermione had a niggling feeling that she might just have taken things a little too far. His determination that she would not escape him on the hill made her pulse pound.
"The Room of Requirement is right behind you." He reached behind his neck and gripped the collar there, drawing it swiftly over his head so the back of his hair stood up like a cocks comb.. The shirt pooled on his wrists and he shook his hands free and flicked it to drape it over a bare shoulder.
His skin was pale and there was suddenly a lot more of it in front of her than she had bargained for. "So?" She tore her gaze from the deep pink of his flat nipples.
"We require it." He backed her up and when her heel hit the door, he reached smoothly around her and gripped the handle. "I'm going to make you see stars."
"The astronomy tower is in the other wing." She watched him wait while realisation settled over her expression, before pushing the door open, away from them.
He dropped his face close to her ear, "you know how to show yourself, right?"
The door clicked shut behind him hustling her through the doorway, leaving the corridor in silence again. Arch by arch, the curved lintel faded back into the masonry. The door handle shifted sharply, as if something had been pushed heavily against it on the other side and then it too vanished.
0.0
Snape looked up at his closed doors. Whoever was hammering was doing so hard enough to disturb rust from the hinges. The handle turned. Only two people would be brave enough or foolish enough to beard him in his lair and he was quite certain that he didn't want to deal with either of them.
"So help me Severus, if you don't let me in, I'll tell Mrs Norris you stole her catnip and-" the door flew open to expose a soaked McGonagall.
"And?" Snape muttered dryly
"-smoked it."
"A fate worse than death, indeed." He waved her inside and shut the door, leaning against it.
"Where is Helens wand?"
"You mean, the parts of Helens wand."
"Don't split hairs with me Severus, if she came to see me, she came to see you first."
Snape pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. He never quite got over how similar her intonation was to her dead twin, it was more exact the more irate Minerva became, even the phrasing was the same.
"There's nothing for her here. Olivander has the two pieces of the rod safely locked away, I was just there and he showed me because I couldn't leave without seeing them again and knowing they were safe. Dumbledore had me check with Amos about the base of the Vine in his strongroom. I was there on another matter anyway. He says it hasn't so much as twitched in years, it's quite dead. Dumbledore was worried that as Hermione came of age, it would awaken and become viable again. Nothing."
"There's you. And the top?"
"The part you kept?"
"The part I gave to Pomona to give to you."
"I never got it." Snape regarded the handsome woman before him steadily. "Where did Pomona get the first cutting from to start experimenting with Vines?"
0.0
George strolled into the dorm room and Fred rose swiftly to greet him.
"Here, shake my hand." Fred stuck his hand out.
"Woah, that's a bit bloody strong isn't it?" George was speaking, but Freds mouth was moving and Freds voice coming out.
"Yeah well, it's different, there's something extra in it."
"What was it?"
"Dunno, I told Cedders about the zombie problem we were having and he nicked a mouse off Crookshanks and grew an ear on its back – how cool is that? You know, because bits keep falling off. Anyway, he asked about the original recipe, so I showed him and he added got something out of his stash. Looked a bit like Lacewing, the bottle had a pair of cherries on the label so I'd know it again."
"We need to know, he could hold us to ransom over it, we might have to give him a cut." George pulled the waistband of his pants away from his body and peered into the gloom. "Why did I not know that you're bigger than me?"
"Oy!"
"Do you use something? We're supposed to be identical twins, but obviously not below the waist if you're using something. It feels the same, only bigger. How do you feel about converting the Casino into a Joke Shop – the ears would be great for it too and if we can make enough of this new batch of potion it would be a massive hit – imagine selling it to couples for foreplay."
"Stop stroking it! That's weird! Here, shake my hand before this wears off. Ugh, no, use your other hand you plank, that's disgusting."
Both Twins swayed drunkenly as they clasped hands for the second time.
"What the hell am I supposed to do with this? I've got Divination next and Trelawney will think her luck is in."
0.0
Cedric had caged her against the door, her fingers fluttered against the sparse hair on his chest and she could feel his nipple rise under the heel of her hand. She had been in here before, with Harry under entirely different circumstances. Hermione remembered the room being bigger, endlessly stacked with piles of unknown treasures and blazing with lanterns. This room was lit with guttering candles, artfully placed just out of sight of the canopied bed that dominated the space.
"Show yourself," he insisted.
"We're not supposed to. Molly said unless-," she hedged. The wand edged into her hand, the Vine contorted into a swept hilt and elongated quillions when she pointed the tip at his chest.
"Molly? Molly Weasley?" For a moment he looked nervous. "Shit, I bet you know some stuff. I dare you. Double dare you, break the rules," he teased, then suddenly quiet as he pressed Hermiones wand tip closer to his bare stomach. "I'll go first, you can do it, not too much or you'll blow a hole right through me and this will end rather messily, well not how I had intended anyway."
Hermione swallowed nervously, his tension thrummed through her wand and up her arm. "Homo alohomora" Magic raged through his body from the single point that she touched him, burning through layers of resistance. He sucked in his cheeks to stifle a groan, he felt like a human torch. Getting off was never going to feel so good.
She thought nothing had happened until he wiped a hand over his face, his brows were heavier, eyes keener and bright with anticipation. His cheek bones stood out more, oddly balancing the sharper definition of his jaw and his bottom lip was redder, plumper. He was taller too, Hermione realised and had filled out his gawky frame. This is what he would look like in person in a few years if he ever made it through the Tournament, when his body had aged as far as his magic had progressed to date.
"Do I pass?" His mouth smiled, but his eyes were serious. He still had hold of her wand and bent the tip so that it tickled under her chin.
"Don't blow your head off," he whispered conspiratorially and kissed the corner of her mouth, reaching to rest his other hand on her hip, "I can't wait to see."
Cold heat peeled back the layers that made her look younger than she could and he watched fascinated as her wrists became more slender, following the changes with his eyes. A narrower waist, fuller chest, more elegant neck and delicate jawline. Her cheekbones stood out above a bow shaped mouth and her hair redefined her entire look, close cropped, curved against her skull and almost boyish but not. She parted her lips and tipped her face towards him, "yes?" she replied, her face kept the elfin features, but her hair grew back again in a swathe past her shoulders.
"Yes," he echoed firmly and enfolded her in his arms, crushing her torso and curling his neck down to sweep his tongue across her bottom lip, pulling her up on tip toe to share his hunger. One of her hands struggled free and anchored itself in his hair, the other squashed between their bodies curved automatically and lightly gripped the prominence in his pants. He stole her breath with his gasp.
"I have something," he breathed, then let out a strangled, "fuck," when she squeezed to make the point that she had something too. He inched them closer to the bed.
0.0
She had lost her robes, sweater and tie, her shirt hung open and off one shoulder before she whispered, "slow down." It was strangely addictive and made her smile when her fumblings made him jump and curse. He was flat on his back half way up the bed and breathing like he was winded, craning his head up so that he could see what she was doing, but making no move to stop her. His belt buckle undid itself and he gripped the bedding with both hands.
In an urgent voice he said, "Kit? You need to stop now." He surprised himself with his restraint, wanting her to explore at her own pace, but it was slowly but surely killing his resolve that this was going to end where he had originally intended. His head reeled at the thought that he might want this again, more than he wanted something different with the endless someone elses. The last time he had felt like this was duelling, when he had only partially blocked his opponents spell, energy had scorched along his nervous system and made his hair stand on end.
"I want to see it," she said in a distracted tone and passed a thumb over where she thought the head was. She could see the movement in his thighs deforming the fabric of his pants and shifted hers in sympathy. His pants button passed through its hole and she bit her tongue. Black briefs, coarse hair that was almost as black and a thick, pale pink tip pinned down by the waistband of his underwear.
He blew out a long breath, trying to relax his stomach and shoulders, "and then what?" She would be disgusted, male genitalia is not attractive. He was desperate to adjust himself, but absurdly curious to see how far she would go. She got hold of his zipper and tugged slowly, her knuckles dragged against him and his balls tightened enough that his throat tightened and forced out a sound like a glottal stop.
Her hair swung down, loosed now and against his bare stomach. He tipped his head back and opened his mouth in a parody of a silent scream, he had never wanted to jack off so badly. He took a huge gulp of air when something touched the tip of his cock, "Kit….?" he said unevenly, the whole restraint thing was getting old, really fast.
She was staring at her finger tip when he looked, reaching out with a pointed tongue to taste him while her gaze flicked back to his waistband. Maybe it's like asparagus she grimaced, a taste you acquire if someone tells you it's good and so expensive that that by default you have to finish it rather than throw it away. She curled her tongue around in her mouth, saliva flooded in dousing the salty taste and his scent snuck up the back of her sinuses making her shiver.
He sat up suddenly, cupping her face and staring into her eyes, "do you even know what you are doing to me." He rolled his hips so that he could reach the back pocket of his pants and stuffed whatever he retrieved under the pillow before pushing the rest of his clothing off his body, sitting up to pull his socks off by the toes.
"Where's your wand?"
"In my robes, why?"
"Just checking," he smiled, slipping her cuff and tugging at her sleeve. She shrugged out of the shirt and he helped himself to the clasp on her bra. His mouth followed the straps slow descent and fastened on a cherry nipple. Hermiones nails scored his shoulders when his hand found the lonely partner and squeezed in rhythm with his suck.
He urged her on top of him, her skirt between them until it wasn't, losing himself in the heavy velvet texture of her breasts against his cheek. She was sitting with her heat pressed right up against the base of his cock, his fingers denting the flesh on her hips trying to quiet her rubbing motion while he worked out how to get her out of her underwear without reducing the skin contact and before she pulled all his hair out. She made it easy for him, suddenly pushing him back against the mattress as if she had made a decision and squashing her chest against his while she wriggled out of her panty hose and knickers.
She surprised the hell out of him when she reached for the foil packet stashed under the pillow. Her fingers worked the packet in her hands, the ripping noise sounded awfully loud. She batted away his hand reaching for the contents, Molly had given her and Ginny the 101 on this – the practicals on a banana had been especially hilarious in retrospect when they had had banoffee pie that night for dessert. She had choked on the pie crumb when Molly had winked at her and added extra squirty cream with a flourish.
She gripped his cock firmly in one hand, nothing like a banana, unless bananas were hot and smooth and on steroids. The skin was oddly pleasing to touch, so she rubbed a cupped hand up and down the shaft, squeezing to get a good grip when her hand got back to the bottom. He rested his palms placidly against her thighs, but he was growling in the back of his throat. She squished the teat at the top of the condom carefully and rolled it down his length with a thumb and forefinger. There was a second, maybe two before he covered her hand with his own and tipped her backwards onto the bed, their hands between them.
The pillows were at the wrong end now and she could feel the edge of the mattress on the back of her neck. Cedric hauled her back a little before driving her out of her mind. Kisses made her melt, things he did with his hips made her torso curl up towards him, sounds escaped her that made partial words while his fingers circled where his cock wanted to be. He shoved his hands under her shoulders and drove against her body, careful to keep himself outside of her.
Hermione stretched her arms over her head, groping for the pillars of the bed to avoid being shoved off the mattress when her body arched up off the bed against him waggling himself from side to side between her legs.
"Are you sure? Please say you're sure?" His cock slid heavily along the channel between her legs and she curled against him when the tip dipped in and slipped out when she moved the wrong way, the coarse hair on his pelvis struck somewhere unbearably sensitive. She huffed against his chest, flattening the base of her spine against the mattress and her knees rose to grip him harshly, "again," she whispered.
"Let me in." He ground his pelvis into her flesh, feeling it slip again her where she had made him wet. The tip of his cock dragged agonisingly against the sheets beneath them.
"No." Pins and needles sparked in her feet and burned up her legs, but she wasn't actually stopping him.
"In." He grunted rubbing against her, his face tucked into her neck feeding blindly on her skin.
"Pull out," she demanded heaving for breath. She could feel him smile, his teeth marked her neck and she marked his back in return, making him shift and hiss.
"Can't. Magical contract. Uh." Breathing was tortuous because it brushed his heated skin against hers, his cock was painfully hard and the skin around his balls was tightening in spite of his every effort.
Her open hand smacked him hard on the back making him grunt at the smarting sensation., "Liar! Not binding until you are chosen," she gasped as his next thrust got closer to not waiting for permission. When his mouth found her lips they were already open and he tickled the roof of her mouth with the tip of his tongue, each dip of his hips was making him more desperate.
"Say yes," he begged against her mouth. "I can finish it. Let me in."
"I can finish without you," she taunted through gritted teeth, gripping his torso in a bone crushing embrace and thrusting her hips upwards against the root of his cock, the head of it bumped over her perineum. Her shoulders edged over the end of the mattress. He was so heavy, if she could just…shivers rippled along her backbone and he groaned her name, making her wriggle again, because she liked the sound he made.
His hips slapped hard into the back of her thighs and she tried to say his name, but it came out as a low hiss and she wound herself closer about him. Any space between them was unbearable, he was moving, trying to change the angle. Her back arched, shoulders digging into fresh air as white heat exploded under her belly button. She twitched and jerked away from him, but his body forged forward anyway, unintentionally tipping them off the end of the bed.
They crashed to the floor in a tangle of limbs, his cock convulsing so hard into the condom that it started to slip off, while his breath hissed between his teeth.
"You're going to kill me," he groaned.
"You're going to kill yourself," she panted, waiting for the room to stop spinning before she dragged herself off the floor.
He stared up at her, naked and stunning in her afterglow. Moisture gleamed on the inside of her thighs and beaded between her legs. He watched her use his shirt to wipe herself down and throw it at him. "Something to remember me by," she said haughtily, reaching for the wand in her robes.
"Tell me," she said conversationally, gathering her clothing, "how do you know what a wand bridge is? I mean terminology-wise. I know because I interned with Olivander and you know because…?" When he didn't answer, she tossed everything she had ever considered about trusting him. The next thing she said made him think of McGonagall. "Don't take me for a fool, Cedric."
"Don't you dare disapparate," he warned, struggling to rise against the inertia of post orgasmic bliss. Every muscle burned in protest.
She raised an eyebrow at the pile of boy with a mans face, and with a devastating smile on her new face said, "Stop me!"
0.0
A/N A quillion is the sticky out bit on the cross guard of a sword. Yep, that's just what you wanted to know, right there.