All Kinds of Directions

The moment Ginny shut the door behind her, Ron turned to Hermione and waggled his eyebrows. Hermione laughed. “I suppose it’s true that adrenaline acts as a stimulant,” she said wryly.

“Sounds right,” Ron said, crawling across the bed to her. He nibbled on her neck, and Hermione giggled. “I never wished we were dating more than right after a Quidditch game—the ones we won, anyway. Well, I really wish we’d been dating during the Yule Ball, since you looked so bloody incredible. Wanted to snog you so bad,” he mumbled against her skin.

“Ron, that tickles!” Hermione complained, although not very strongly, and Ron backed off a little. “Would you like to know when I wanted you most desperately?” she asked teasingly.

Ron thought a moment. “Was it some time I was laid up in the hospital ward? Like when I was poisoned?”

“No, although those times were definitely up there,” Hermione admitted cheekily. “As well as after Quidditch games. But no, it was fifth year, right after Harry and I got away from Umbridge—and you, Ginny, Neville and Luna found us in the woods. I was scared and almost on the edge of panic, and then suddenly you were there, handing us back our wands, ignoring your split lip and just going on like it was just another tiresome problem. I swear I was so relieved to see you that if Harry hadn’t been so desperate to get to the Ministry I would have thrown you to the ground and had you right there.”

Ron stared at Hermione in surprise. “Blasted Harry,” he finally said.

Hermione laughed again, placed her hand on Ron’s chest and pushed. She wasn’t strong enough to move him, but Ron took the hint and laid back. Hermione dragged herself on top of Ron until her body was covering his, and kissed him. “I wouldn’t say no to a little… fun,” she murmured, nipping at his lower lip. “In fact, there’s something I’ve been thinking about quite a lot this past week that I’d like to try.”

“Oh yeah?” Ron said, surprised. “What’s that?”

Hermione didn’t answer, but pulled her wand out and cast a Charm on herself that Ron was coming to recognize; the Levitation Charm Hermione used to “walk”. She’d been casting it several times a day, and had gotten much better at maintaining it. She’d only been doing so in the room they shared so as not to give the rest of the D.A. the idea that she was getting better; the Levitation Charm didn’t give her extra strength, nor was it permanent.

When Hermione finished the Charm she pushed herself up so she was straddling Ron, and wiggled her hips a bit, making him groan. “I’ve reached the point where I don’t even have to think about maintaining this Charm,” she said, unbuttoning Ron’s shirt one-handed. “So long as I’m holding my wand, I can maintain it for a good hour.” She pushed Ron’s shirt aside, and ran her fingernails lightly over his stomach. “Of course, I might not be able to maintain it if I’m thoroughly distracted,” she added suggestively.

“Only one way to know,” Ron croaked.

“Maybe we can …” Hermione started, but she trailed off. Instead of finishing her thought, she began to unbutton her own shirt, slowly, grinning at Ron the whole time. Once the shirt was gone the bra followed, and Ron gazed up mesmerized at Hermione’s stunning breasts. He reached up and rubbed his thumbs lightly over her nipples, making Hermione moan softly.

Hermione climbed off of Ron, silently relishing the freedom of movement the Levitation Charm granted her; she didn’t have the strength she’d had before, but her limbs no longer felt like dead weights. She lifted her hips in the air long enough to remove her skirt and knickers, leaving her nude next to Ron. “Can your Levitation Charm make you float into the air?” Ron asked.

Hermione frowned, puzzled. “I suppose…possibly, but I’d really have to push myself. I doubt I could get very high off the ground, or stay up for more than a minute or two. Why?”

“Because I think I’ve had dreams like that,” Ron said, only half joking. “You, floating above me naked…”

Hermione chuckled embarrassedly at the dreamy look on Ron’s face. “Take your trousers off, Ron, so we can finish this dream properly,” Hermione ordered with a naughty little grin.

Ron hastened to comply, stripping all his clothes off in record time. He lay back again as Hermione reached over and lightly grasped his very hard cock in her free hand. She stroked it languidly, studying Ron’s face as he grew more and more aroused. She slid up Ron so she could kiss him again. Then she tapped her wand to his cock and murmured the Anti-Pregnancy Charm.

“You can cast other spells while you’re holding the Levitation Charm?” Ron exclaimed in surprise as the sparkles faded into his cock.

“If I’m careful about it, yes,” Hermione said. She got up on her hands and knees, so her arse was toward Ron, and Ron’s heart-rate accelerated at the sight of her quim, open and waiting. “Whenever you can tear your eyes away,” Hermione teased.

Ron got up on his knees and moved between Hermione’s legs. Taking hold of his cock, he positioned himself at Hermione’s entrance, and gasped in surprise when she pressed back, taking him inside readily. “Merlin,” he breathed, his hands finding Hermione’s hips, and he pressed forward until he filled her completely.

Hermione slid her arms out so her head and shoulders dropped to the mattress, “More, Ron,” she pleaded. Ron pushed again, and the new angle allowed him to penetrate even deeper, making them both groan. Ron began thrusting, slowly at first, but built until he was fairly well pounding Hermione. She howled and mewled, digging her fingers into the sheets until she came with a hoarse cry. “Ron, stop—” she gasped once her breath returned.

Ron’s thrusts halted instantly. “Are you okay?” he asked nervously.

“Better than okay,” Hermione assured him. She got up on her hands again and twisted around to look at him, shifting her hips so she gripped him enticingly. “There’s something else I think we should try.”

“Uh… okay,” Ron mumbled, not exactly in a position to protest. “What?”

“You remember that thing we talked about right after our first time?” Hermione asked tentatively. “I got rather angry when you were so persistent?”

Ron frowned, trying to remember, and when he realized what Hermione was talking about his eyes almost popped out of his head. “You—but you said it was too weird!” He exclaimed. “You said you didn’t want to!”

“I said I didn’t think I could,” Hermione corrected, blushing furiously. “Now I think I can, and well, it sounds… odd, but I’m willing to give it a try.”

“Why would you think you can now when you couldn’t before?” Ron asked.

Hermione was brilliantly red. “Because the Curse… Well, its main effect was to make me weaker,” she explained rapidly. “It did that by loosening and weakening my muscles. All my muscles,” she emphasized.

Ron thought about that, and swallowed. “Oh,” he squeaked.

“If you’ve changed your mind…” Hermione said, grinding back against him.

“No!” Ron blurted out quickly. “No, it’s just… we don’t have to if you’re not really… comfortable…”

“I am,” Hermione assured him. “And—well, it’s been on my mind from time to time ever since you mentioned it, and I’ve gotten…curious,” she admitted, now practically glowing.

“Bloody hell,” Ron muttered, and his cock twitched in Hermione’s quim.

“I’ll take that as assent,” Hermione said wryly. She shifted forward a bit so Ron’s cock slid mostly out of her. “Go on,” she whispered, steeling herself.

Ron pulled out the rest of the way. He again took hold of his cock, and guided it up to Hermione’s anus. But when he tried to push forward, Hermione hissed a bit and shook her head. “Wait—” she said, and Ron could see why: her anus didn’t have the same natural lubrication that her quim did.

“We can forget it,” Ron said; he didn’t want to, but he didn’t want to hurt Hermione, either.

“Giving up so easily?” Hermione said challengingly, although with a hint of humor. “I think maybe a Lubrication Charm might make it easier, don’t you?” Ron gulped and nodded. “I’ll need you to cast it for me, though,” she murmured. “I don’t think I can, erm, get the right angle for it.”

Ron blushed as Hermione Accioed his wand for him. He pointed his wand at Hermione’s anus, took a deep breath and said “Dermilubricus.”

Hermione gasped as the Lubrication Charm took effect,, slicking her entrance in a way she’d never even imagined until very recently. “Oh Merlin!” she gasped, locking her arms so she wouldn’t fall. She squeezed her eyes closed at the bizarre sensations; “Oh, that feels—so—strange!”

“Bad?” Ron asked nervously.

“No… I can’t describe it,” Hermione murmured breathlessly. She opened her eyes and stared hungrily at Ron. “Try again,” she demanded.

Ron could hardly speak, so he nodded jerkily and moved into position again. This time when Ron’s tip touched the slickness of Hermione’s anus she whined slightly at the feeling. “B-better,” she stammered. “D-do it!”

Gritting his teeth, Ron grasped Hermione’s hips and pressed forward so she slowly, agonizingly took him inside. Sooner than he expected, he couldn’t get any further in.

Hermione had closed her eyes again; her forehead had beads of sweat glistening on it. “S—strange,” she whimpered.

Ron curled his arm around Hermione so his hand could brush against her quim, but she yelped and slapped his hand away. “What?” he asked frantically.

“Just give me a minute before you do anything,” Hermione said, her voice tight. Ron thought that made sense—rather like their first time together, the sensations were probably overwhelming. Hermione leaned herself forward a bit, and then pressed back, making Ron almost bite his lip through. A few more times and Hermione was rocking gently, with Ron moving in counterpoint. Only two-thirds of Ron’s cock fit inside her, but he certainly wasn’t about to complain. It felt pretty odd to him—although very nice—so he could only imagine how strange it was for Hermione. He was astounded (when he could put enough brain cells together to consider it) that Hermione was managing to maintain the Levitation Charm despite the onslaught to her senses.

“Now, Ron,” Hermione breathed; when Ron didn’t respond—he had no idea what Hermione meant—she reached back with her free hand and grabbed his wrist, bringing it around her hip to her quim and pressing his fingers against her moist lips. When she moaned loudly Ron cottoned on and began teasing her, tormenting her clit and stroking her labia until she almost growled with need. She began shoving back against Ron harder, and Ron responded by putting his weight into his thrusts. That was all Hermione needed; she clutched Ron’s hand hard against her quim, fell forward again and screamed her release into the mattress. Ron only had to thrust a few more times before he came as well—his howl, un-muffled, echoed across the room.

*****

The moment the door shut behind her, Pansy glanced around anxiously; Draco was nowhere to be seen. If this is Potter’s idea of a joke, I’m going to shove his owl up his arse!

A creak made Pansy’s head whip around, and there was Draco, standing in the doorway to the adjoining bathroom and staring at her as if she were Voldemort wearing Longbottom’s grandmother’s dress.

“Draco!” she shrieked, and ran across the room to throw her arms around him. But just before she got there he snapped out of his trance and held up his hands defensively, as if to ward her off; he was holding a curtain rod in his hand like a club. Pansy pulled up short; “Draco?”

“Who are you?” Draco snapped. “I’m not stupid, you’re not Pansy!” His eyes narrowed. “Weasleyette, right? You’re the only one who could come close to duplicating Pansy’s attitude!”

Pansy laughed shakily, which was unusual for her, but she was so relieved that Draco simply suspected her of being someone else—she’d thought for a moment that he hadn’t wanted to see her. “Remember after the Yule Ball, Draco?” she asked softly. “I let you inside me for the first time, on a mattress Transfigured from an old desk in an unused classroom.” She smiled wistfully. “You put your cloak down first, so I wouldn’t get any dust on me.”

Draco lowered the curtain rod slowly, his eyes betraying his shock. “You—how do you know—?” He shook his head in disbelief. “Pansy?”

“Yes!” Pansy confirmed, putting her arms around his neck and kissing him firmly.

Draco returned the kiss, but mildly, as he still seemed dazed. “Pansy,” he said after finally pushing her away, “what in Merlin’s name are you doing here?” his eyes widened. “I heard a rumor that you’d been captured! What the hell is Potter making you do?”

“Captured?” Pansy repeated, surprised. “Is that what the Death Eaters are saying? That’s odd—after what happened at St. Mungo’s, I would have thought—”

“St. Mungo’s?” Draco interrupted, staring searchingly into Pansy’s face. “I heard some tripe about you helping protect Longbottom’s parents from the Lestranges, but…” he trailed off and gaped as Pansy’s cheeks reddened, ever so slightly. “It’s true? You did kill Aunt Bellatrix?”

“No!” Pansy shot back. “I didn’t!”

“But you were there?”

“I—yes,” Pansy admitted, not liking the less-than-friendly look Draco was giving her. “Draco, what does it matter? I’ve been working to find you, to make you safe again—that’s all I wanted!”

“So you threw in with Potter?” Draco snarled. “What were you thinking? He’s the Dark Lord’s greatest enemy, not to mention what a self-important pain in the arse he’s been to us—to me—all these years! And you’re working against the Dark Lord! I thought your parents were insane, or covering for some secret mission of yours or something! You turned against your pureblood lineage!”

“I did it for you!” Pansy replied, her voice breaking slightly. “You were in danger and I needed to know you’d be all right!”

“Tell me I’m hearing things,” Draco said coldly. “Tell me that Pansy Parkinson, a smart, clever pureblood, the epitome of a Slytherin, didn’t suddenly lose her brains and betray everything she’s ever stood for and believed in over some stupid schoolgirl crush!”

“Stupid?” Pansy felt her eyes beginning to prickle, but she wouldn’t let herself cry, not in front of Draco. “You—you knew how I felt,” she murmured, hating that she sounded plaintive. “I told you…”

“Is that supposed to make it better?” Draco retorted nastily. “I’m supposed to forgive your rampant idiocy because you romantically followed your heart, like a Gryffindor?”

“But…but I had to.” Pansy whispered. “I love you.”

“Yeah well, your love isn’t reciprocated,” Draco sneered, pushing Pansy away. “I thought better of you, Pansy…I guess I was wrong. Hell, you’re probably only here to trick me into giving up information about the Dark Lord—I’m not so easy to fool!” He shook his head in disgust. “Siding with Potter? I bet you had to shag him to get him to trust you, didn’t you? How long has that been going on, Pansy? Have you been letting me tup you for years just so you could run back to Potter and scream out what I said while he fucks you too? Well, anyone who’s on his side is no friend of mine, let alone lover! Go on, piss off back to your blood-traitor and Mudblood friends before I sick up. It makes me ill to think that I ever touched you.”