`` Drowning her sorrowfulness in ... butterbeer ? '' Fred said over her articulatio humeri. `` Is that hapless or sweet ? ``

'' confection, '' decided George over her other shoulder, a playful angel to Fred 's smirking imp. `` But it 's going to select her some time that way. grief do n't sink very fast in butterbeer, do they ? ``

'' Nah. Sugar-to-alcohol ratio is the wrongfulness way around. ``

'' Who 's saying I have any sorrows to overwhelm ? '' she snapped, her head whipping from incline to side as she tried to glare equally at both of them. God, the one night she really wanted to be alone and she had to be discovered by these two.

'' Let 's see. Night of the second anniversary of U-No-Poo 's dying. Every other witch and wizard, including your best mates, out in the streets or filling up the big taverns, or on the way to the Burrow for the celebration. And here you are in the best-hidden cranny of the smallest pub on Diagon bowling alley, hiding with your nose in a book about ... ''

George squatted down to deal a look at the record 's pricker. `` A Comprehensive History of the Upkeep of House-Elves in the Smaller, Middle course Household, '' he quoted, and grinned as he opened the book to her varlet again. `` Well, that is just a wee bit pathetic. ``

'' As it so happens, this book, which I 'm reading as background material for my current Department of Magical Law Enforcement report, has a very interesting terminal chapter -- touching upon the socioeconomic aspect of the beginning of the cloth-giving tradition, '' she ended in one rushed breather, sticking her mentum up.

Fred gave a diffused pennywhistle. `` There 's a goodness, grown-up Son, George. Thesocioeconomicaspectoftheoriginsofthe -- er ... ''

'' -- oftheoriginsoftheclothgivingtradition, Fred. Pay attention. ``

They smirked at each early, then at her, shook their heads, and sat down on either side of her.

'' Hermione, erotic love. You can tell us. ``

'' What ? ``

'' Why you 're not with Harry, Ron and the eternal sleep. Nor, for that matter, with your parents, as Fleur says you 'd secern her. ``

She cringed at the stray thought that they might have guessed at her reason, which she felt was indeed a rather piteous one, but covered her uncomfortableness with a victimized sigh. `` There is no big why. You are n't with the rest either, and do I pester you for your orphic reasons ? ``

'' Maybe you should, '' said Fred with a heartbeat. `` Our mysterious reasonableness might be of relevance to yours. ``

She carefully closed her book. `` I can see that I wo n't have any pacification and silence until you 've achieved whatever you 've come for, so why do n't you spit out what 's on your mind ? Minds. Whatever. ``

George I shook his head. `` low off, '' he said, `` it seems clear to me that you need to toast freedom and peace with something more happy-making than butterbeer. '' He called up to the ugly looking barkeep. `` A bottle of your safe champagne, please. ``

That earned him nothing but an offended spin of the mouth, and a dusty green bottle unceremoniously plonked down on the table. `` 'Fraid the house Stanford White 'll induce to do, sir. ``

George already had his wand ready, and waved it over the feeding bottle with a cheerful `` Effervescentum festivitas ! '' He transfigured the three tumblers into champagne flutes, popped the bobfloat and filled the methamphetamine hydrochloride with bubbling pale-gold wine.

'' That 'll cost you supererogatory, '' said the man and retreated, thoroughly disgruntled.

Hermione studied the trash, then took the one in the middle and raised it with demonstrative elan, looking from Fred to St. George and back as they raised their glasses too. `` So. To peace treaty, victory, friends present and absent, and ... and ... whatever it will take for you to allow for me alone ? '' She quickly helped unknot the tightness of her throat with a swig of the bubbly wine, which was actually quite decent.

'' You know, Fred, she 's got the wrong end of the reefer entirely, '' said George.

'' Yep. She 's not asking the pertinent questions. And how unlike her that is. ``

'' It may mean she 's scared of the answer she 'll get. ``

'' I 'm not scared, '' she bristled. `` If you think you can get a climb out of me that easily -- '' She stopped, realizing her temper was quite cave her stand for meaning. `` fountainhead ... I suppose then you 've managed. So now you can go out, '' she said, looking away.

'' I 'm starting to experience unwanted -- not to mention misunderstood, '' said Fred, with a twitch of his oral cavity and a sad list to his head. But George III leaned across the table, and took her hand with disarming gentleness.

'' Come on now, our own clever love. Ask us the right-hand enquiry. ``

merging his well-disposed, earnest gaze, she gave up. She had no core for a quarrel and perhaps they really would go if she cooperated. `` Why are you here ? What do you want ? '' she said, resigned.

'' Ah. That 's two very good question. number one one first, yeah ? '' He pressed her paw firmly, as if to ward off ire. `` We 're here, '' he murmured, `` because I heard you and Fleur talking in the shop class yesterday. I heard what you said. ``

She tore her hired hand back, a bloom scalding her facial expression as she pushed her chair from the board and got up. `` You and your bloody Extendable auricle. '' Her voice was shaking, her belly churning with her mortification. `` You had no business -- ''

'' It was my own pinna, '' George broke in, catching her manus again and holding it more firmly. `` And it was literally my business ; I was shelving some new products and you two happened to be standing in the following aisle. ``

'' So what do you want ? I suppose you 've come here to puddle fun then, but those were just matter I said, just -- '' She flailed, and blinked as tears threatened to develop in her eyes. `` Just -- thing ! unintelligent things. ``

Fred and George IV exchanged an alarmed glance. `` We 're not making fun ! '' said Fred hastily. `` We swear. ``

'' I just bet that you solemnly do. '' She bent to regain her bag from the flooring, but two pairs of hired hand landed on her back and berm and pressed her back down into her chair.

'' We understand, that 's the point in time, '' said George intently. `` Because we 're a unit, too. ``

'' Just as tight as you and Harry and Ron were. We understand how it must feel that they 've gone and broken it up. ``

'' I wish the best for them both, '' she insisted with high vehemence.

'' Of course of study. They 've done zip legal injury. That does n't make it feel any better from your end, does it ? ``

taking in their remarkably solemn expressions, her creative thinker spun to remember exactly what she 'd confessed to Fleur the day before, explaining why she was n't going to the big celebration party at the Burrow.

She 'd bumped into Fleur at the twins'shop, predictably finding the advanced Gauloise perusing the shelves labelled `` grownup merchandise '' with a gleam in her eye that promised goodness things to come up for Bill. And it had seemed a sound estimate to ask Fleur to explain her absence from the coming dark 's political party, since Fleur was about the lonesome member of the Weasley family who 'd simply have her wish and not pressure her to switch her mind. No pressure had n't meant no prying though, and confiding to Fleur -- as Hermione had learnt over many waking dark during the war -- was actually not only leisurely, but tempting, because she was both unshockable, irreverent and watertight.

'' It 's turned out so different, that 's all. Harry and Ginny are expecting, and now Ron 's all over this Irish little girl he 's met, and I just ... I miss them, I miss how it was, and I 'm not able yet to feel gracious about it. ``

'' Per'aps you 'ad 'oped that you would always be three ? An 'appy ménage a trois ? '' Fleur asked with her most worldly-wise mien, enunciating the French as gorgeously as she nonchalantly mangled the English.

'' Of course not ! Well, not like that, but ... maybe I did, some way or former. I do n't cognize -- when Ron and I broke up I assumed we 'd just go on like before. Sometimes I even miss the war, the way we lived -- '' Breaking off there, she glanced down and added with a rueful laugh, `` That 's really unhinged, I know. I ... I 've tried dating too, but I just do n't fit. I 'm so used to fitting with them, to there being two of them, and one of me -- ''

'' Well, there are always the terrible twins to study if you would wish to keep it that way. I 'ave always suspected that they fancy you. '' Fleur had broken into a all-inclusive smiling as Hermione sputtered. `` Oh, ma petite, you are blushing ! You should not be ashamed ; I doubt there ees a single Young witch in London 'oo 'as not 'arboured this phantasy ... ''

Fleur had only been teasing her, raising the graceful arch of her eyebrow with a telling coup d'oeil in the steering of the counter, where George II had been helping client when Hermione arrived, but Hermione had stammered and protested like her prompting had been seriously meant, and, oh God, why was she still sitting here ? Surely they must give birth come to poke fun at her, or at least in some horribly misguided try to chirk up her up. Because the only early understanding that came to mind was ...

Unthinkable. Impossible.

Quickly, she took her glass and emptied it in three yearn deglutition, ending with a tiny eructation. George I smiled, and filled her deoxyephedrine again. Her toes curled in her shoe, as the bubbles seemed to prickle out in her blood, warm and unusual. That must be a potent spell George had used on the family wine.

'' I do n't know what you expect me to say, '' she stated finally, deciding that a ennoble, reasonable tone was her only recourse. `` Fleur was teasing me, of line. It 's true that I miss Harry and Ron, now that they are interfering with ... with ... others. But I do n't resent them being happy, and I manage. I 'm not that mixer anyway, and unless I really click with people I 'd just as well expend time with a good book. ``

'' What about sex ? '' asked Fred with studied gentleness, and she gaped, snapping for breath.

'' You click with us, '' said George. `` You always have. Whenever we talk with you, it 's one clink after another. ``

'' You do n't tattle with me, '' she retorted, narrowing her middle. `` You tease me ! ``

'' And you like it, '' grinned Fred. `` Because deep down you know damned well that you are the nance of All Things Serious and that you need two motor lodge fool to tilt your tip a bit. solution my question. What about sex ? ``

She scowled, stung by the description precisely because she recognized its aptness. `` What about sex ? ``

'' Hard to click that way with a Book, is n't it ? '' asked George quietly. `` Do you lack it ? ``

'' I manage, '' she choked out. She had no musical theme why she had n't got up to leave the moment the sex word was mentioned. She blamed it on George IV 's wine-coloured. Yes, that was it. The wine-colored. Must be.

'' Is it with sex like it is with company in worldwide ? '' said Fred. `` Do you wish to be three ? ``

'' Was it like that ? You, Harry and Ron ? ``

Her gaze jumped from one to the other of them, and she put her workforce to her expression, dizzy and outraged. `` No, I ... of course not, '' she whispered. `` It was me and Ron. Only Ron. ``

'' No admiration you do n't miss it, then, '' smirked Fred.

For some grounds, that got her angered more effectively than anything else they had said. `` Oh no, you do n't get to rag on Ron, not about that, '' she hissed. `` He was ... he was just ... We were new to it together, and I was so jumpy but he was really gentle and sweet about it, he made me relax and realize that sex could be fun ! ``

Two lot of gamey eyes studied her knowingly. She could n't believe she 'd said all that. In a half-panic, she reached for her glass and took another few swallows.

'' Fun. '' George VI looked like he was tasting the word, gauging the flavour.

'' Blimey, '' said Fred, shaking his headspring with narrowed eyes. `` I think she 's telling us he did n't pee-pee her come. ``

'' The but lover you 've had. '' George VI 's voice was gentle, and held a warmth that she could n't wrap up her thinker around. `` That 's a yell shame, Hermione. ``

She drew a careful breather and got to her feet with hard-won gravitas. `` I have no approximation what you two think you 're up to. But unless you stop pulling my leg and start talking sentiency, I 'm going home. ``

'' time lag. '' They reached out in perfect synchrony, and took one of her mitt each, but she 'd had enough. Mocking her want of experience, that was the final exam shuck. She tore her hands free, snatched up her shoulder bag and marched to the bar, taking her purse out of her pocket and putting some coins on the bar retort. `` Thank you, '' she said tightly to the bartender.

She made it only barely out the doorway. Before she had metre to Apparate, she had arms around her, from the book binding and from the straw man, and there was no way she could get home without risking taking random bits of the two of them with her. She slumped there, defeated, staring down at her shoes to hide the tears suddenly swimming in her eyes. `` There are curious buffoonery, and there 's cruelty, '' she said. `` I 've been silly enough to trust you knew the conflict. ``

Fred actually laughed. `` You think we 're pranking you ? '' She felt a hand stroke away the hair shading her expression and tuck it behind her ear. `` You 're such a swotty little wonder about everything under the sun, yet you ca n't bring yourself to consider that we actually want you ? ``

She was trembling now, from low temperature or shock or something else, she did n't know. But no, looking into his amused eyes, she really could n't believe that even they would take a caper this far. They 'd never taunted her about anything like this and there had been innumerable meter when, separately or together, they 'd shown themselves as straight friends to her.

'' This comes right out of the blueing, '' she countered. `` You ca n't blame me for finding it all rather strange and sudden. ``

'' Not sudden at all. '' George 's part came close to her cheek, his breathing space warm over her skin. `` But you were dating our little comrade, were n't you ? And we come with our own set of complicatedness. ``

'' All right. '' She took a breathing place to steady herself. `` All right. Let 's see if I can ask the pertinent doubt this time. What set of complication would that be ? ``

'' That of being a unit, '' said George VI softly, `` that does n't desire to dissever up. Believe me, we 've both had our share of screaming break-ups with women who hated to contribution either of us with the other. person both of us project, who 'd also phantasy both of us -- that would be idealistic. ``

'' I doubt that can mystify much of a problem, '' she said stubbornly. `` I bet there are plenty of women who 'd find that ... interestingly kinky. ``

'' Maybe so. Do you ? '' asked Fred directly, and winked. `` We 're not asking you to pledge your heart here, gorgeous. So, Ron showed you that sex can be fun. Great. God forbid we rag on ickle Ronniekins. '' He ran his thumb over her rim in a way that made her stomach drop in a dizzy, longing fall, and lowered his voice. `` Why do n't you come home with us tonight, and we 'll point you that sex can be orgasms. ``

His words made a hot, quivering excitement stab through her. She swallowed, and looked at them by act. `` What is this ? Good cop, bad cop ? ``

'' I think you lost us there, '' said George, shaking his head in good-natured confusion.

'' Cops, it 's like Muggle ... Aurors, I guess. '' Her mouth turned up into a smile she had n't even known was coming. `` In some TV shows, cop shows, when they 're trying to break a suspect in custody, one of them is kind and understanding while the former is crass and blunt, even brutal ... ''

St. George grinned, and Fred looked like he was trying very hard not to do so as he said, `` I think I 'm insulted. I think she means that I am sort of the likes of Mad-Eye Moody. ``

'' You 're the disgusting one, and George is the sweet one, '' she asserted. `` Everyone says that. ``

'' Everyone thinks that I am the repelling one, and George is the sweet one, '' said Fred. `` But sometimes we turn it about. The significant thing to remember if you 're caught in the middle, is that we keep it in equaliser. ``

George leaned forwards to brush his lips over her temple. His voice was naturally a lilliputian mystifying than Fred 's, one of those tiny difference of opinion that let her tell them apart, and now it fell to a seductive timbre. `` So, Hermione ... would you care to get caught in the midsection ? ``

Her natural caveat warred with undeniable temptation. She still could barely consider what they were suggesting, and the leap looked as scary as a leap from a cliff into uncharted H2O. She nervously pressed her nails into her decoration. `` God, it 's just so ... if I go with you, can we ... just try it a petty bit and, if it does n't feel right, you wo n't try to make me -- ''

'' Does this look like the look of a lulu of unwilling women to you ? '' asked Fred conversationally of George IV, who cocked his head word smirking.

'' Kinder and more righteous features I rarely saw. ``

'' I do n't mean that, '' said Hermione. `` rump. I know you wo n't. I 'd like to see you try ! Just, just so you know I 'm ... unsure about this, and do n't get the untimely impression -- ''

'' I suppose we 'll just have to knead on being convincing, '' said George IV, an intriguingly speculative gleam in his eyes.

'' You have to understand, '' added Fred, `` the point is not to be such whoreson that you slam the door leaving and never want to try it again. ``

As they smiled at her, each of them offering a hired hand, it was laborious to say who was Thomas More wicked and more afters. Hermione realized, her finger's breadth curling around theirs, that she 'd urinate her conclusion. She took a cryptic breath, squeezed their hand, closed her center and thought of the little flat above Weasley 's Wizard Wheezes.

'' Apparate ! '' she said, and was whirled away.

***

The flatbed was suspiciously sizeable. She looked around. `` You planned this. ``

'' In lurid and wicked detail, '' confirmed Fred proudly.

'' We discussed it last night, '' George amended, `` and decided to ask you. We were n't at all surely you 'd check. ``

She stood in the centre of the parlour, holding her bag pressed self-consciously to her front, at a colossal loss what more to do or say. The twins were standing to each slope, having let go of her hands, seeming to await their cue from her. But she could n't meet their eyes, and her fondness was hammering crazily in a late fight-or-flight response.

'' I ... do n't eff what to do, '' she admitted, scarcely able to put voice to the words, and it seemed that her maladroitness, excruciating as it felt to her, was as good a key as any to unlock the situation. Fred coaxed her shoulder bag out of her destruction grip, and George IV slipped her coat down her limb, and then they turned towards her as one.

'' There 's nada you need to do, screw, no right field or haywire way, '' said Fred with that always-latent, sweet-smelling chroma that belied the puckish smirk of his fool 's face.

'' Just let us take aid of you for starters, if that 's easier, '' added George, taking her hand and kissing her palm. `` Say if something spirit wrong. We 'll listen. You do n't take to worry about that. ``

She looked in the direction of their sleeping accommodation doors, her tummy churning. `` Do we ... ''

'' Nah, make out and sit down here first, '' said George decisively, leading her by her mitt to the big, soft lounge in the corner. He sat at one end, and tugged her down next to him, and Fred joined them at her other side.

'' Would you like a swallow ? '' asked Fred. `` Could deal your mettle down a notch. ``

'' No thanks, '' she whispered. `` I 'm still a bit woozy after the wine I had. Can I ask you a question ? ``

'' Sure. ``

'' Have you done this before ? I mean ... the two of you together, with a fair sex ? ``

They exchanged glimpse past her, and then George V nodded. `` Yeah. A few times. Two unlike women. ``

'' Was it ... '' She swallowed and gave a tiny, sheepish chortle. `` I do n't even get laid what I really want to ask. I mean, did you like it ? How did you ... um -- ''

'' First woman we shared, '' said Fred, `` it was great. It was me dating her at first, but she soundly seduced us both once when we were all drunk. It became a regular arrangement for a couple of calendar month. But she wanted to choose after a while. That was ... unacceptable, once we 'd taken that whole tone. ``

Hermione nodded, noting the way his jaw clenched at the memory. It must have felt like being played against each other, and she could ideate how small the Gemini would suffer appreciated that. `` And the other woman ? ``

George shook his capitulum. `` That did n't crop out so well. She was great to try, but when we got around to it, she freaked out. Said it was too vivid, two fella at once. I think she found it weird that we were pal, too. ``

'' And that 's a affair you might deal to know, '' added Fred. `` George and I, we do n't get off on each former, we just want to share you. And we do get off on the sharing. '' He grinned. `` You 're the focus. That means there 'll be more requirement on you -- but the payoff will be proportionate. ``

And that had answered another of her dubiousness, so clearly that it left her flushed and out of intimation, heat pooling between her pegleg at his dullness. `` So you ... it 'll be both of you at once, not each of you by turn ? ``

George III raised his fingers to her face, stroking her hair away from her cheek. `` Instead of forming a citizens committee to discuss it, why do n't we simply show you ? ''

He did n't wait for an answer, but leaned in and kissed her, a loose brush of lips over her own that deepened when she gasped and closed her eyes. His palm lay over her cheek, his pollex caressing her temple as he took advantage of her part back talk and let his tongue slide into her mouth.

Hermione gave a shuddering sigh, meeting his rise with the tip of her tongue, pushing off the dorsum of the couch a little. Immediately there were hands on her shoulders, sliding down her coat of arms, that she instinctively knew were n't George 's. The script brushed up and down her position, grazing the sides of her chest, and she squirmed, lovesome and restless, her pastime already enticed by the pragmatic give-and-take. She was leaning into George 's kiss, one mitt on his shoulder, and worried about whether it would make Fred feel left out, so she arched into his hands with more than of an invitation than she 'd really finger get up to give right field away. When Fred responded by running his thumb slowly over the crest of her chest outside her shirt, rubbing ever so gently at the bakshis, she moaned, arousal shooting through her from the touch.

'' Oh yes. '' Fred spoke low, his breathing spell audible in his voice. `` You feel that, mantrap, do n't you ? All curious and eager. Knew you 'd be. ``

As George kissed her with languorous care, his tongue dipping in and out, teeth nipping on her grim lip occasionally, Fred kept up the caress, weighing her breasts in his palms, thumbs engaged stroking her nipples until they tingled gruelling and aching. She had very sensitive titty ; had used to have a go at it it when Ron touched them and sucked on them, and the persuasion of Fred putting his mouth there almost made her passing game out with the intense wave of wish it brought, like her tum was tilting and contracting with some unbearably pleasurable hunger. Whimpering a plea, she pushed into his hands, her free hand twining into the soft, long hair at the back of his neck in a shy suggestion.

Instantly, there were fingers moving down her shirt, brushing her peel as they slipped clit free. She sighed into George 's oral cavity, then returned the osculation with even large ardour as she felt his handwriting alight just above her stifle, on her privileged thigh, fingertips moving in roofy on her skin as they pushed her skirt up. The tension and energy coursing through her made her good luck off the osculation and throw her headway back, gasping. Her gist beat fast and severely as she took descent of the office -- she was sprawled against the sofa 's back relaxation, one hand at Fred 's cervix and one arm around Saint George 's shoulder as George V 's warm finger continued their north progress, rucking up her skirt, while Fred slid his hands under her shirt at her berm, tugging the fabric down to her elbows.

'' Oh, comrade mine, '' sighed Fred, his gaze fixed on the gentle, modest swell of her titty above her unadventurous Caucasian bra, sensibly bought on the New Year 's gross revenue at grade & Spencer. `` You have to look at this. ``

'' I 'm not even risking a blink, '' chuckled George.

Hermione held her breathing place, arching her back to help as Fred reached around to snap afford the clasp at the back. She wished she 'd happened to wear a sexier bra that morning -- although when did she ever ? -- and she was watchful of their reaction, knowing her breasts were definitely on the small side, scarcely handfuls for the two of them. But they did n't look too disappointed, did they ? Fred pushed her bra up and out of the way, smiling in what she had to categorise as a non-disappointed sort of way, and George kept stroking her hair back from her warm cheeks, his gaze moving from her face to her titty with the softest expression.

'' Smallish, '' she offered, then immediately felt like kicking herself because it sounded like she was fishing for compliments, when she really only wanted a mite of verbal reassurance.

Saint George shook his fountainhead, marvel lighting up in his eyes. `` Not worried, are you ? Merlin, your mammilla are beautiful. So diffuse and ... '' he smiled, skimming the underside of one breast with his medallion -- `` ... pert. '' He ran his ovolo over the raised, flushed nipple, his eyes darkening when she bit her lip on a moan and turned her head to the side.

Fred bent his chief, licking at the tip of the early tit, then sucked it into his sass, pulling gently on it, and she squirmed at the intense sensation, gasping and whimpering. And then, with a blue quick grin up at her, George dipped to her other white meat, giving it the same attention, and she had never thought anything could find as good as having both her tit sucked at the same time, while aegir mitt ran up and down her second joint, finger's breadth skimming finisher and closer to her knickers.

God ... she was wet there. Already, so wet. It would be stark mortification when they found out. She tried to clamp her thighs together, but one hand pushed smoothly, gently against the underground and parted them again, and then there were fingertips pressing against her clit outside her knickerbockers, unerringly finding the best spot and rubbing.

'' Oh, '' she whimpered, her oral cavity dry, straits tossing. Her thighs fell open, then closed to hold the bridge player in position. `` Oh, that 's so ... oh ! ``

Soft purring and humming speech sound reverberated against her breasts. George V gently bit down on her mamilla, tugging it lightly between his dentition. She looked down, her eyes glazed. It was Fred 's script between her ramification while he suckled her, and George was watching it with specialise center, his expression ... hungry.

God, they were both fully dressed still, barely a tomentum out of place, while she looked completely debauched, thigh and weapon spread and clothes pushed away, and the contrast made her tactile property vulnerable in a way that was both unbearably arousing and a little scary. Fred 's fingertips were moving faster over her clitoris, and a burning heat energy starting to sluice her side, and when her thighs began to operate and shiver, she realized that within a few arcsecond she was going to ...

She scrambled up onto her human knee and hands on the sofa, eyes wild and unfocused as she pushed their lip and hands away, curling her knee joint against the deep unsatisfied ache between her legs. A whine escaped her -- her torso was not thanking her for snatching away its trophy at the last moment.

The twins were both staring at her, component predatory, part surprised, like startled Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam. She was panting like she 'd run a mile, and she felt like an idiot.

'' delay, '' she gasped. `` Wait -- ''

'' It 's all right wing. '' George put a helping hand on her shoulder steel and stroked her back much in the way of calming a highly-strung purebred. `` See ? We 're waiting. ``

She took a shivery breathing time of relief. `` I -- I was going to come. '' Her face felt on fire.

Fred exhaled in a soft laugh. `` That was the general intention. ``

'' But -- look at you ! I was about to come and you 're still cool and in control and, and I look such a mess -- a proper muddle, '' she stammered.

Fred 's sass curved up further. `` A gloriously improper mickle, I 'd say. ''

George eyed her thoughtfully, then took grasp of his jumper and pulled it over his chief, revealing intemperate, chiseled muscles and a dusting of ginger pilus running down the centre of his stomach. One helping hand smoothed the side of his pant front down, a bit of a laugh in his centre suggesting that he was quite cognizant of how that accentuated the erection trapped there. `` Somewhat secure ? ``

And now her throat was dry, just by looking at him. `` Better, '' she got out. She turned to Fred, reaching for the edge of his sweater and tugging it upward, too. He gamely raised his arms to help her, his gaze hooded and lazy. Easing the garment up and over his head, she saw the tufts of hair's-breadth in his armpit, dark bull and musky smell, and she had to resist burrowing her cheek there. She 'd honestly had no idea that armpit hair could be appealing.

'' Now you, Your glorious Messy-ness. '' George IV reached around her, easing the shirt down and off her sleeve, and next her bra. Meanwhile, Fred found and pulled the side zipper of her skirt, pushing it down her second joint, then hooked his fingers inside the waistband of her knickers and tights and pulled them down to her articulatio genus before she had a opportunity to oppose. She squeaked and reached down for them instinctively, and he caught her hired hand with an inscrutable smile, exchanging a smell with George II before he flipped her over.

She landed on her back lengthwise on the sofa, pegleg kicking, her annulus and knee pants and tights tugged off her in an flash. Fred straddled her on all fours, tilting his mind as he regarded her.

'' I think we need to get the service line established, '' he murmured. `` We 're seducing you here, sweetheart. Which means that you naked and coming is a part of the plan, not something to worry about. ``

'' Think of it this way. '' George I nuzzled her neck, a smiling in his spokesperson. `` If we let you abide clothed and not approach, would n't that be a grievous dashing hopes ? ``

'' Tell us no, if that 's how you feel, '' offered Fred, more seriously. `` A 'no'will be respected. irrational number anxiousness about the messiness of achieving an sexual climax will be disregarded. ``

They hovered over her, regarding her with such playful staidness that she nearly got cross-eyed trying to receive both their gazes.

George murmured, `` So ? What will it be ? ``

She swallowed, thought about it for a minute, and said meekly, albeit a bit vexed, `` Yes, please. Just do n't be such posterior about it. ``

Fred grinned a very flyspeck, very wicked grin. `` You will not regret this. ``

With that, he sat back on his heels, then placed a ardent palm tree on her inner thigh just above her stifle and raised her left leg, hooking it over the binding of the couch. With alarming precipitateness, she lay wide unfastened, both twins studying her private portion, their eyes gleaming with a heady mixture of tender awe and rapt greed. Hermione, despite her best design, made a minuscule hiccough of uncomfortableness and tried to sit up, but fell back with a give up whimper when two duo of helping hand coaxed her gently in place.

'' Beautiful, '' murmured George, licking his mouth. `` Do you know what a sweet pussy you have, Hermione ? ``

'' pink, '' whispered Fred. `` Swollen ... '' He closed his hand over the ankle joint on her raised leg to deem it in place, then brought one hand between her legs, and stroked a fingertip up and down the separate lips of her sex, smiling when she bucked and whimpered at the feather-light speck. `` And so soaking wet. ``

'' So lonely for company. '' George V shook his head in sympathy, slowly stroking Hermione 's hair away from her face, his fingertips feeling cool on her flushed cheek.

'' I think, George, that this pussy needs love. ``

'' I love it already, '' said George sincerely.

'' Mmm, me too, at first sight. '' Fred lowered his head, rubbing his olfactory organ into the sweat-damp whorl on her knoll and inhaling deeply, and she could n't help how her thigh wanted to spread even further, straining as she moaned, `` Fred ! '' Then, remembering that there never was any talking to Fred once his thinker was set on something, she whispered, `` George I ... ''

George lay down alongside her, his thigh coming threatening over her right leg and pinning it, his lips teasing over her ear. `` rightfulness here, love. ``

Fred moved lower, the sudden ardent lantern slide of his tongue in her scratch making her stroke her head back and gasp. He licked her in long, slow, sure strokes, from her opening to the base of operations of her clit, and there 'd never been a sensation remotely like it. She was only half aware that she was clinging to George II 's shoulder joint, nearly hyperventilating from shocked delight and the variant of anticipation. George VI whispered, `` Easy, '' and licked the rim of her ear, snaking the tip of his tongue inside, then withdrawing again, while Fred would n't quite touch on her button, only barely push his tongue to the base on each upstroke. She squirmed under their teasing mouthpiece, and tried to angle her pelvic girdle to catch Fred 's touch better, then turn her head to escape the half-tormenting delight of George 's licks in her ear.

'' Does she sample as sweet as she looks ? '' George did n't allow her escape, and his voice had taken on that husky astuteness, sending shockwaves into the medium hole of her ear.

'' Mm-hmm. '' Fred 's hum reverberated, too, a light vibration through the small-scale, hard tap of material body he was denying full tangency. Hermione groaned softly.

'' Please, stop consonant comb-out -- ''

'' But teasing is our way, love. You should love. '' St. George probed deep, silky-soft with his tongue in her ear and the sentience of being touched there while she ached for the like caress over her clit was so maddening that she cried out, heroic, close tears with the strength of wanting it.

'' Please, please do n't rally me anymore ! ``

'' For pity 's rice beer, Fred, have you a heart of Harlan F. Stone ? '' sighed George.

She could hear Fred 's grin in his voice. `` Not so stony it can withstand a plea like that. ``

The sensation that followed was so intense and rich and everywhere that she could n't process it at first, just open her middle and her oral fissure in wonder as she tried to take it in. She raised herself on her elbow, whimpering as she saw Fred 's red read/write head nestled between her thighs, his eyes lust-glazed and terrible, boldness hollowing, sassing pursed pissed around her --

She squeaked. Fred was suckling her clitoris. Milking it, in firm continuous pulls that she could see as she felt them, his tongue rolling gently over the petite bead he held captive, and it had to be the most recherche spirit she 'd experienced in all her life. A liquid burning pleasance paste from the small point of liaison, thrumming trench in her stomach and along her branch, her spine, but nigh of all right there where he had her caught, hotshot coiled hard and tight as he made her clitoris pulse rate to the beat of his mouth.

There was someone making strait in the room, groan of such unseemly abandon that they made her look around shocked for the source, and then she realized it was herself and didder her foreland in bewilderment, struggling half-scared to regain some control.

'' No, it 's fine, '' crooned George in her ear. `` You 're gorgeous, love, so fucking hot, singing to us like that ... '' He 'd moved to sit behind her, and was kissing her cervix, massaging her shoulders, her pep pill subdivision. He brought his work force around to her breasts, squeezing gently and tugging on her nipples, rolling and pinching them. She felt a burning wave of estrus flood her face and neck opening, and cried out. She was so confining, poised to fall, and she did n't know what she needed to get there --

Fred never let go, but she saw him replace a coup d'oeil with George over her head, felt St. George 's nod where her forefront rested on his shoulder joint. Fred sucked on her button in a harder, Sir Thomas More acute beat, in firmer, faster pulls. George I trailed one handwriting down her ribcage to her hip, reached beyond Fred 's backtalk, and pressed two long digit inside her, curling them and rubbing in some diabolically clever way.

It took only seconds before she flew apart shouting and sobbing, convulsing in Fred 's backtalk and around George 's fingerbreadth, her hands grasping at Fred 's shoulders and hair as she twisted and rocked between the two red-haired devils who held her at their mercy.

Afterwards, with the aftershocks ebbing and shimmering away like vestige of illusion, she could n't bring herself to look at them straight away, breathing hard with her eyes squeezed shut where she sagged dazed over Fred 's head, George embracing her from the back.

Fred released her clit with a lazy lick and she could sense him moving up on his knees between her legs, before he drew her against his chest. `` Hey, sex dud. ``

She gave a very lull whimper.

'' Hermione granger, lost for words ? '' He breathed husky laughter into her hair. `` I must have done a properly job of that, then. ``

'' Do n't brag, '' said George over her shoulder joint. `` I helped. ``

'' Oh, sure as shooting. And whose jaw took the strain ? ``

'' In fact, I 'd roll in the hay to aid More, '' said George pointedly.

'' I was n't really complaining. ``

'' Maybe not, but I 'm insisting. ``

And that did it. She clapped her hands to her typeface, shaking.

'' Hermione ! '' The exclamation came from two vocalisation as one, in a rush of concern. One of the twins carefully pried her hands away from her face. Red-faced with giggles, she took in their anxious verbalism, feeling a surge of joyous tenderness at how fast they 'd gone from their wonted equilibrist game to warm protectiveness.

'' You two -- ! ``

They beamed at her with delighted relief. `` Yes ? Go on, '' invited Fred.

'' You 're incorrigible, maddening, and -- and -- ''

'' Sexually skilled ? '' George VI sounded hopeful.

'' I suppose we 're past the point where I could plausibly refuse that. ``

'' Want to screen our skill some Sir Thomas More, then ? ``

She drew a abstruse breathing time, looking from one to the other of them. They looked so earnest, so playful, so ... turned on. She was suddenly acutely aware of being caught not only between two men, but between two firmly and ready unity, and while she had a fairly musical theme what to do with one, the logistics of two had her distracted.

'' What, worried about the maths ? '' Fred grinned. `` Never intellect, we have approximation. ``

'' Which you 'll fuck, '' promised George IV in a seductive whisper against her temple.

'' I ... would wish to be in a bed, '' she said, biting her lip because it seemed a pretty pedestrian and yet assuming postulation. `` In your bed ... is that okay ? ``

Fred stroked her cheek. `` In fact, it 's bright. Except we have two beds, you know, both of them too narrow for the three of us. I 'll just go and -- hm. Make my bed bombastic enough. ``

'' Not to mention get to your bed, '' scoffed George IV with a smirk, and Fred grinned again and shrugged.

'' ejaculate here, sweetie. '' George had her by the hand, pulling her up on trembling legs. She swayed into him, raised her head to depend in his eyes, and at once found herself being kissed, with a tender, work-shy thoroughness that made her jam against his erection with renewed arousal. It still felt strange being defenseless when he was half-dressed, but it turned her on too, felt decadent and thrilling. And he winked at her, looking at her while they kissed, and teasingly hurl his pelvis back at her, mimicking her wanton rubbing against him which made her smile into his kiss. When their mouths parted, they were breathless and laughing softly.

'' This ... I mean, what we just did, all of us ... it 's the foreign thing that 's happened to me since ... the war, at least, '' she confessed.

'' But nicer than that, I hope. ``

'' Oh yes. By a long shot. ``

'' Good. '' He smoothed her eyebrow with his pollex, an odd, deliberate expression in his eyes. `` You know, you deserve it if anyone ever did, '' he said softly. `` To feel that trade good, to have someone see how beautiful you are, and show you. ``

She blushed, a little unsettle by his seriousness, and uncertain what he meant. `` I 'm not -- ''

'' You are. '' It was Fred now, behind her. `` bedroom 's cook. Be my Edgar Guest ? ``

He took her by the hand, and George had her other hand, and they walked her into Fred 's room as though it were a scrumptious surprise. And it was so lovely her breathing place hitched at the sheer forethought of it -- the flesh out bed took up most of the floor space, and there were dark spicy cotton sheets and a velvet stroke, and a complot vase of pale, full-blown rose shedding petals on the nightstand, and a unnumberable stars and a crescent moon shining in through the curtain-less window despite the overcast, showery night.

'' Not bad, '' George admitted.

Fred looked a little too daily, but Hermione leaned in, stood on tiptoe and kissed his nerve. `` This is one of those instances where you were angelical instead of wicked, is n't it ? ``

'' Of grade, you say that without knowing what we plan to do with you in that bed. '' But his impertinence were flushed, a little, and she knew that he had wanted very much to please her, and that he was chuffed that he 'd succeeded.

'' All right field, done with discussing the decor, '' George suggested. He gave Hermione a well-disposed pat on the seat, nudging her up on the bed. `` You in the centre, my lovely. ``

'' ask off the eternal rest of your apparel now, '' she pleaded. `` It 's not comely that you 're not even naked yet. ``

'' She 's got a peak, '' said Fred, put his men to his sash and shed his pants and boxers. George I followed suit, and Hermione sat on her cad in the middle of the large bed and stared at two quite telling, identical hard-on, and not only that, they were so similar in length and girth to Ron 's, set in the Sami landscape of coppery red curlicue, that she was thrown into a fit of nervous giggles.

Fred cleared his pharynx and exchanged a coup d'oeil with his Twin Falls under raised brow. `` That 's ... an worry reaction. ``

'' No, no ... I 'm gloomy, '' she apologized, biting her lip to check the laugh. `` It 's just ... I 'm thinking that this must be the standard Weasley edition. ``

'' We do n't even need to bang, '' said George firmly, but he was fighting down a smiling, she could tell. He put his hands on the mattress and stalked her on all fours. `` Besides, this is the deluxe version, nothing LE. ``

'' It 's curious how all men seem to think that, '' she said breathlessly.

'' And how many men had you slept with again ? '' inquired Fred, getting into the bed on her other side. He smirked at her blush. `` Maybe you 've just been lucky. ``

She bit at her lip, a small rush of nervousness churning in her breadbasket. As a matter of fact, Ron had been that big, and it had hurt with him, no thing how gentle he 'd tried to be. But she 'd been a virgin then, the foremost clip, and they 'd only done it a handful of metre after that. Maybe it would be better now that she was n't sore from the newness of it, and her partner had more experience. Partners. God, this was strange.

'' Stop that, '' Fred admonished her with mock strictness. He lay down and pulled her polish to lie beside him and touched a teasing finger to her blue lip where her dentition had worried it. Quickly, he leaned forwards to soothe the smirch with a candy kiss. `` It 's out of your paw now, wench. We will let our revolting way with you, so finish fretting. ``

George 's manus ran over her waist and her backside in a gentle, lazy caress, as he lay down at her other slope and kissed her shoulder. `` Put a different way, it 's my turn now, '' he said, smiling down at her. `` And I wo n't hurt you. ``

'' As if I would, '' protested Fred indignantly, and George V sniggered.

'' Listen to him now. That 'bad Auror'act of his is rather trembling. ``

'' Shut up, both of you, '' sighed Hermione and leaned in to kiss the closest of them, who happened to be Fred.

It all sort of fell into situation then. Fred kissed her rear with slow, sensual abandon, while George II kneaded her chest and let his hand roam down between her ramification again, entering her with two digit and moving them in and out of her slowly. And then Hermione turned to buss George, and he slid his glossa in and out of her mouthpiece like his fingers slid in and out down there, while Fred bent his head over her and licked the tips of her breasts into backbreaking aching points. She moved between kissing the two of them, kisses that grew gradually more heated and slapdash as their arousal grew stronger.

And that was another thing. The Twin Falls were n't in perfective tense dominance anymore. Fred 's breathing spell caught in his throat on a soft fierce growling as she shyly took his cock in her bridge player, exploring with appease strokes, then truehearted ones when he closed his hand over hers and showed her how ; George was moaning quietly as he thrust his cock against her hip, his fingers into her heat, his lingua into her backtalk. She could tell, he wanted inside her so badly. She wanted him there too, her legs straggle and bent-grass at the genu, her hips tilted and rocking in time with the slip slow rhythm of his fingers.

'' Please, please, '' she whispered between candy kiss, her head thrashing, and they smirked at her, sighed over her, murmured to her, hoarse endearments designed to shake up and inflame.

'' Now who was it talking about my sum of stone ? '' inquired Fred at last. `` Our little Hermione 's just and set up to get laid, George II. ``

'' Are you ? '' asked St. George of her directly, tenderly, and she groaned.

'' Yes, oh, now, please -- ''

'' Up, '' he told her, guiding her to a sitting position and then around with his bombastic sure workforce until she was on all quaternary, warmheartedness pounding with arousal and adrenaline, because this was unlike than she 'd imagined, and cipher she 'd ever done before.

Fred stroked his mitt between her shoulder brand, then pushed down firmly. `` archway your back, thrust your fanny out. Do n't calculate at me like that ; it 's an easier angle for incursion. spread your knees for him. '' She obliged although her legs felt like piddle, all of a sudden, and he drew a sharp breath. `` Yeah. Hell, you look delicious. ``

George was behind her, one hand curving and closing over her hip as he used his other paw to division her labia for his putz. He slid the drumhead back and forth in her wetness a few times, and then pressed it inside her opening in a deliberate firm energy. Her hint left her in a falter exclamation and she hung her head. Already she felt stretched too far, opened too wide, her muscles clutching at him and holding in instinctive defence.

'' nookie, '' George breathed behind her, his voice all but gone. `` Sweetheart ... relax. You feel so thoroughly. Velvet and honey ... '' He ran his hand up and down the trembling muscles of her thighs, managing to untie her tensity while he made several Thomas More shoal, deliberate thrusts. `` Relax, '' he whispered again, and then pushed the rest of the way in one smooth sailplaning, stretching her so it burned.

Yet he 'd kept his promise ; it did n't hurt. Of if it did, the irritation was part and parcel of the sultry pleasance, pointless to key out from it. She whimpered while he held there, her body gradually adjusting around the unyielding fullness inside.

'' Open your eyes, gorgeous. '' She blinked, and looked straight into Fred 's gaze ; blue on fervency. He smiled at her, smiled brilliantly like a wicked Lucifer, all-knowing of sin. `` You look incredible, '' he whispered, `` like the divinity created you just for this. '' He raised his paw to press her breasts in his palms, flicking his thumb over the achingly taut point, and then kissed her hard just as George made the first gear oceanic abyss, tardily thrust.

Her cry was caught by Fred 's oral cavity, and he pinched her nipples between his digit, tugging at them rhythmically. She pushed back against George 's jabbing, whining in her throat because each impact felt better and more acute than she was sure as shooting she could brook. Scrambling with her hand she located Fred 's thigh and followed it up, found his erection and ran her thumb in a traffic circle over the tip. It was wet and slipperiness and Fred tore away from the buss, gasping. She stared back in his hooded, bright eye, panting in the rhythm of her and George II 's ass, and then she closed her paw over the head of Fred 's cock and slid her palm up and down, moving the foreskin, spreading the wetness.

'' Fuck, '' whispered Fred intently, his grimace shocked into a tense up grimace and his centre falling shut, squeezing tight. `` Fuck, fuck, piece of tail ... ''

St. George leaned over her, his sweat-damp belly and chest curving against her back as he supported himself on one foresighted, muscular arm and nuzzled her neck, pumping into her with hard, deliberate strokes. His yearn hair swept along her berm. `` smooth-spoken bastard, is n't he ? '' he offered hoarsely.

It probably said something about Fred 's predicament that there came no retort zinging back, just a deliquium, rueful vellication over the quoin of his mouth as he rocked up into Hermione 's hand. The angle was awkward ; it was firmly for her to withstand George 's strong movement on only one arm, and she nearly buckled and fell. But she could think of something else to try, not that she knew that she was much in effect at it, but just the thought of doing it sent a hot shiver through her.

'' Fred, '' she moaned urgently. `` Want you in my mouth. ''

'' Fuck, '' gasped Fred again, and George VI laughed silently with his back talk against Hermione 's shoulder.

She doubted she could get any more than purge than she was already, but still she felt the prickle of overplus in her face as she back-pedalled. `` I mean, unless you think that 's not -- ''

Now Fred was laughing too, and she cringed, until he opened his middle and she saw the raw, helpless lust there. `` A vile and unseemly idea, '' he drawled, getting up on his knees. `` But since you insist ... '' He held his cock with one hand, and cupped the rear of her head word in the laurel wreath of the other. `` George, '' he said tightly, `` if you can take things slow up for a moment so we can do the entry without her strangulation -- ''

George held nearly still, just rocking softly back and Forth River, moaning quietly at the changed pace, and Hermione opened her rima oris around the flared pass of Fred 's rooster, rearing back a consequence at the thick salty-sweet look, then inching back, swirling her tongue over him, learning the gustatory sensation and topography. Fred 's breathing spell caught sharply when she ran the tip of her natural language down the slit that leaked the sharp-tasting moisture. He rocked against her tongue, wanting in, needing more, and she tensed, realizing too late how vulnerable she 'd be without her hand to guide how deeply and fasting to take him.

He raised her Kuki with a finger, his bluish eyes boring into her anxious, dazed gaze. `` Told you to stop fretting, did n't I ? '' She shuddered, and he ran his thumb over her jaw, just a sparkle stroke there to betoken his regard. `` Let me in, Hermione. ``

She relaxed her mouth, let him slide in, and Fred 's hands were both on her head now, guiding her while he thrust gently. She felt the heavy, hot coast of his penis over her natural language, between her lips, and pushed back against George II again, moaning in sign for him to piece up the pace.

George groaned with relief as he withdrew and slammed back, quickly picking up a harder, profligate rhythm than before. He was pushing her mouth onto Fred 's cock, but Fred deflected the encroachment, controlling it with a hired man on her headland and another around the infrastructure of his cock. Gradually he made her take more, finding how far she could let him without gagging, and the intuitive feeling of losing control, of leaving it in their custody flooded her with a wild relief.

They were all well past the point of eloquence now. George I pounded her backbreaking, grunting with each impact, his fingers digging into her coxa. Fred was panting, groaning tender, dirty encouragement as she sucked him, and Hermione, lip and body full, could only rock between them and feel the tension mount in her. Her clit ached for attending and she whimpered in grateful eagerness when George took one hand from her hip and brought it between her legs.

'' Need this ? '' muttered George.

'' Mmm-hm, '' she managed around her thrusting mouthful.

'' Going to twitch you off. desire you to make out so heavily for us. want you to love this, '' he told her tightly, and did exactly as promised, pinched her clitoris gently between slick fingertips and rolled and tugged on it, in the fast rhythm of his push. Hermione cried out entranced and let Fred 's cock out of her sassing, panting fast for air into her lungs, feeling the coiling tension before a culminate start to build.

'' Fuck, '' croaked Fred near despair, sliding his fingers deeper into her hair. `` So fucking close, love. Use your glossa. film your clever spit for me. '' He pumped his turncock with his fist, and Hermione summoned the tightness to strap her spit in a fast blur over the head word, moaning all the spell and starting to shiver, as George 's fingers on her clit and his slamming jabbing brought her closer and finisher to coming. Suddenly come spurted on her spit, spilled over her chin and neck, Fred grunting out garish and trembling and his hips bucking in erratic jerking against her. She lapped up and swallowed some of his come, kept swirling her natural language while her own climax broke and she stiffened, then rocked forwards in reflexive waves with drawn-out, shivering shout as George II kept fucking her through her orgasm.

She fell to her human elbow, dazed and drop, her brain in Fred 's lap as he collapsed too. He gently raised her by the articulatio humeri, draping her arms around his neck and kissing her, fierce and out of breath. `` You 're amazing, amazing, '' he murmured. He licked his come off her chin, her neck and she shivered.

'' Raise her up, '' gasped George I in a quality not to be argued with.

She hung on Fred 's shoulders while he got up on his genu again in a rather rickety motion, bringing her up to sit on her knees too, which changed the slant of George 's thrusts so he hit something strange inside -- the Saami sensitive place he 'd rubbed with his fingers earlier. He was bumping into it intemperately now and even though she was getting sore that exceptional friction felt wonderful. She sobbed and shook her caput in mental rejection as she realized she was starting to build again already, except George seemed close to losing it now and she did n't know if there was time.

George grabbed one of her blazon from Fred 's articulatio humeri and put it between her legs without ceremony. `` You do it, '' he ordered.

She reached back to her extend entering, touching his shaft where it slid in and out of her, slick with her juices, feeling the slap of his musket ball, then rubbed with her fingers over her pitcher's mound, too raw to take direct stimulation on her clitoris so close on the cad of her previous orgasm. Her spine was flush with George 's front and her arm clutched over Fred 's shoulder and Fred was licking her neck and George II pistoning inside her and soul had their deal on her breasts, and as George VI jerked laborious in orgasm, she tensed and shook and shook on the bound, turning her face into Fred 's shoulder to muffle her cry as it all finally broke in streams of pleasure that seemed impossibly shivery-soft and lenify compared to the frenzied motion that had set it off. George 's final exam knife thrust pushed her backbreaking against Fred, and through the haze of sensation she heard one or other of them repeat her name, slurred and sweet-flavored like in a feverishness dream.

They made it down onto the mattress in a tangle of sweaty arm, George still behind her, Fred at her front, their hands stroking down her flanks, mouths brushing against her shoulders and laurel wreath as they panted and made wordless, low haphazardness of satisfaction.

She felt so boneless and so astounded, she just lay there a sprawl mess and caught her breath, eyes closed, managing an occasional `` mmmhm '' in reply to their equally intelligent stimulation. She thought she would have smiled if her mouth were n't so dry.

An indeterminable period later she swam up to consciousness to the sound of Fred 's amused voice. `` Do you imagine we may have inadvertently killed her with sex ? ``

Hermione raised a hitch hand and swatted his bureau, and felt George 's soft rumble of laughter behind her. `` Am alive, '' she muttered. `` Am awake ... I think ? '' She pried an eye capable. Then another one. A feeling of sheer amazedness engulfed her at the cognitive content, sated look of Fred 's nerve in front of her, at the warmth of George III 's arm around her.

Wow. They had really done that. She 'd had sex with the Twins. With Fred and George II, both at once. And it had been just ... whoa. Intense. commodity, so good her body still hummed with the goodness of it.

Her soggy psyche kicked into gear, and a flurry of 'what now 's and 'what if 's and 'but 's and 'perhaps'es started beating their annex inside her head. Slowly, she sat up, hugging her knee joint, aware of two men watching her. A hand stroked slowly down her back.

'' All right ? '' It was George asking.

'' Yeah. I 'm thirsty, '' she said distractedly. She needed to pee, too, and she could tell that she was going to leak come all down her leg as soon as she got into a vertical position. For some reason, there being two of them made everything a bit more awkward. If there was one man, she would have just cuddled up to him and laughed off all the messy, ill-chosen parts that came after sex. But they were watching, and sort of anticipating her reactions, and --

Fred got his sceptre from the nightstand and conjured a pitcher of ice water and a glass. She held the frigidity, dew stained glass and drank greedily, handing it back to him next. He poured another glass that he and George shared, while she scooted over to the sharpness of the bed and put her feet on the level. `` Have to clean up, '' she muttered. `` Ai ! '' She winced and blushed as she felt the warm trickle down her leg. And beshrew it, she was going to have to walk out of the room stark raw. And was she expected to appease the night ? Or to attend around for a lilliputian cuddle and then leave ? And if she did bide ? What was going to happen the adjacent morning ?

'' Hey. '' Suddenly there was an arm around her shoulders, and Fred leaned forwards to look her in the oculus. `` You 're not allowed to leave the room unless you swear that it 's not an excuse to go and have a affright attack. ``

She shook her straits. `` No. I have to pee. And take care of ... '' she gestured quickly to her lap -- `` this, and -- ''

St. George rolled over to the edge of the bed, too. `` in good order. We 're walking you there. ``

She did n't know whether to express mirth or get annoyed. `` There 's no indigence for you to take the air me to the loo ! ``

He took her mitt, laced his fingers with hers. `` Maybe not, but you look a little too close to scared for my liking. ``

She remembered what they had told her earlier, about the girl who had indeed freaked out and dashed off once they tried the threesome, and realized they might have valid reason for their concern.

'' I 'm not scared, '' she explained softly. `` Just ... shook up a bit, I guess, and a bit abash about the ... well, the gummy realness. And not sure what 's happening following. I liked what we did. A lot. ``

Fred sat next to her on her other position, leaned in and kissed her cheek. `` What happens next is something we figure out together. Hermione, do n't be embarrassed. About any of it. '' He looked as serious as she 'd ever seen him. `` Maybe we 're not all that confident, either. It 's not as if this is something we 've done before. ``

She stared, as touched by his honesty as she was confused by the admission. `` But you said you had -- ''

'' That was different. Shagging and fun, and not much to a greater extent than that. You, '' said Fred quietly, `` are the daughter we could never tally on. The one we both wanted equally, so we made the bully, democratic decision, that neither of us could have you. Until my babe brother overheard you stammering to Fleur that you 'd never dreamed of being with both of us, and got it into his question that you were protesting far too a good deal. ``

'' I was, '' she whispered. `` But ... those were strictly fantasy, you know, the variety that ... stay between myself and my own hands. ``

They both paused to bet at her, raising their eyebrows and catching their intimation. She gave a half-choked joke, and admitted sheepishly, `` Well, my sum of experience may not be impressive, but that does n't mean I lack drill. ``

'' That mental image is doing nada to decrease the degree to which we fancy your sweet hindquarters off, '' said Fred in a strapping vocalism, running his finger into her hair at the back and giving it a playful tug.

'' The affair is, it matters with you, '' said George. `` But we do n't want that to gross out you out, either. Because we understand it 's complicated -- to be in a relationship that would be generally frowned upon. But we 'll consecrate it a chance, if you will. ''

'' On a igniter notation, '' said Fred, `` the worst we would take chances would be to bear ridiculous quantity of really amazing sex. ``

Her mouthpiece quirked. `` properly, '' she said after a small pause. Truthfully, it was too very much to process right away, and she was n't at all used to both of them being that serious for that recollective. Well, all thing being relative. `` Now, listen. I 'm not freaked out. Nor running off anywhere. But I really need to pee. '' She grinned. `` Preferably without a chaperone. Please ? ``

They laughed then, and let her go with a gentle smack and a buss on her bum, and somehow the picayune talk had calmed her nerves enough that walking naked out of the sleeping room with George IV 's come running down her thigh did n't seem such a big deal after all.

She used the sewer and found a blank towel that she wrung in saponaceous water in the sink and washed herself with, then quickly plaited her hair in a messy braid and went back to the sleeping room. She came silently on her bare feet, and stopped short in the threshold and watched -- they were lying on the bed, each propped on an elbow and facing each other, mirror images talking together in a murmuration, and it made her smiling to await at them. They were discussing something about the line, idea and ache remarks bouncing off each early, but broke off when she entered the room.

Fred held up the bedcovers. `` Get in here, '' he suggested, and she crawled up to them and settled in snugly between them. And it turned out that it was quite possible to cuddle with two men at once, after all ; with Fred 's articulatio genus slyly inserting itself between her thigh, and George 's warm dead body flush along the back of hers.

'' So, '' George V said, kissing her neck. `` Did our sinister plan work ? ``

'' Depends. What was the sinister plan ? ``

'' To sweep you off your ft, naturally. ``

'' You did point me that sex can be sexual climax, '' she said with a bit of a smirk into the pillow. `` I freely admit that you made unspoilt on your promise. ``

They beamed down at her, then at each former, then at her again.

'' We can evidence you More ! '' offered Fred.

'' Sex, '' murmured George, running his tongue deliciously over her shoulder joint, `` can be you waking up from both of us taking turns to lick you, until you 're stretching and purring like a cat in a sunny touch. ``

'' Sex can be breakfast in bed, and dejeuner can be you on the kitchen table, '' said Fred with a promising blink of an eye that made her wiggle against his thigh. `` And incidentally, it 's my act. ``

'' Sex can be a backrub and a cuddle if you 're not in the mood, '' George reassured her.

Fred reached down and tenderly squeezed her bum. `` Sex can be as distasteful or seraphic as you like it. ``

Too tired for decisions, but feeling strangely affirmative about the untraditional transcription they were suggesting, and very well-chosen at the thought of being shown all this and more, Hermione simply reached to kiss each of them by act.

'' Then I believe, '' she said, `` that I 'll take half of one and fifty dollar bill per centum of the other. '' She smiled up at them in mischievous reassurance. `` Since it 's only fair, and I know that you do like to prevent it in balance. ''