Bathtime at Grimmauld Place

I own nothing that you recognise. Not even Snape to my immense displeasure. I demand this be rectified at once. I own a clapped out car, two cats, and a clapped out fiance. Who claims I overwork him while I sit on my arse and write stories. Unfortunately couldn\'t come up with reasonable argument to this. Damn.

Loosely based on Bubble Bath challenge on WIKKT. Have changed location (although a certain person still views the bath as \'his\') and have attempted to get the elements required in. May or may not have been successful.

Daya.

*

\'Bathtime at Grimmauld Place.\'

My dark haired lover is currently nibbling on my left nipple. I must say it’s a rather nice sensation. I tangle my fingers lazily into the unkempt silkiness that brushes against my cleavage.

‘Please, more’ I moan, hopefully in an encouraging manner without sounding too desperate. Just enough to let them know that I am rather happy with what they are doing, and if they wouldn’t mind carrying on a bit more I would be very grateful.

‘Fair lady,’ he whispers, sending shivers up my spine. His regal tongue flicks against the hardened nub that is my nipple. ‘Much as I wish for nothing more than to spend an eternity doing nothing more than satisfying you, the final battle shall begin soon, and I must fight. If only to gain to gain our freedom so we may love again.’

His lips are on my throat now, his stubble lightly grating my skin. My thighs are already raw from his administrations, it would be nice if he shaved a bit more often, but well, what with all this fighting going on I rather suppose that he doesn’t really have the time. It is very manly though. Oooh. What’s he doing now? I do believe that’s what they refer to as ‘nuzzling’…

Reluctantly I pull away from my dark haired lover, letting my eyes fall upon his war hardened body, littered with scars from previous battles. His grey eyes meet mine, and they are filled with lust.

‘You will be safe, won’t you?’ I don’t really want to sound needy, or so pathetic, but have finally managed to pull off the whole gently sobbing thing while not letting my face get puffy or my mascara heading for my ankles. Shall use it to my full advantage while have the opportunity to do so. This leads to me looking delicately fragile and vulnerable, and without the red nose that usually appears when I cry.

‘Hermione, my sweet,’ Oh that husky voice of his, with just the faintest tang of American, ‘If I die, and yes, my love, I may die, know I die loving you. If we win and the forces of darkness are vanquished, then I shall rule this land, with you as my Queen. But we may lose. We have already lost so many brave men…’

Ah yes. Who was he again? That’s it, the rather sexy one with the broken nose and long, prone to tangling, hair. It had been a shame he had had to die so suddenly, would have quite fancied having a crack at him…

‘Swear to me,’ I grip his shoulders in a way that suggests independence, but also a desperate reliance on him, my breathing is deep, my voice as husky as his. Am exceedingly sexy, far more so than that horse faced she elf anyway… ‘Swear to me that you will return. Swear it to me, Aragorn.’

My handsome ranger pulls me closer to him. ‘I will return, I swear this to you. I will return, nothing will keep me from your side, Hermione. Not even the evil Sauron and his army of Orcs.’

Oh yes. Now this is my favourite moment. The passionate declaration of love followed by a jolly good rogering. I knew taking Ron to experience the joys of the cinema had been a good idea. Even his shouting ‘Bloody hell! Wish the house elves looked like that elf!’ when Arwen appeared, and then again when Galadriel was on screen couldn’t distract from my pleasure. Not least because I was thinking the same thing whenever Legolas appeared. My campaign for House Elves Rights might have taken a completely different turn if he was…

So one of the Lord of the Ring films had been perfect for us to see. While Harry and Ron got to get their action kicks, I got to drool over a series of fantastically good looking men for a few hours. And give me plenty of material for long dreamy fantasies…

Now. Back to Mr. Strider methinks. Perhaps there would be a repeat on our escapades in the woodland realm, or perhaps we could frolic in one of Rivendell’s many streams. Right now, am not bothering as long as I get to play with Aragorn’s longsword…

Am just about to comment to Aragorn about my desire to get my hands on his long regal long sword when the door flies open.

Bugger.

Fuck.

Appear to have forgotten to lock bathroom door. Which means am now sharing bathroom with a general intruder. Not good at all. Am lying stretched out naked in bath, fantasising about a certain King of Gondor, which I would like to point out has been very rudely interrupted…

Am generally torn between screaming at them to get out, and well, just screaming at having been caught in an aroused state in the bath.

Whip fingers away from clitoris and search desperately for panic button instead when suddenly realise person hasn’t actually seen me yet.

Reason for this is clear. Am fed up of old bitch of a witch screaming at me as I attempt to take a bath. Even through closed door is unnaturally loud. Grief at losing her only son two years ago has not softened old mare up in the least. And if she knew I was currently occupying the first floor bathroom right next to her portrait in Number 12 Grimmauld Place,(still HQ for the Order of the Phoenix, but also Harry’s home now as well.) she would have a field day. Cannot cope with my peaceful bath time punctuated by screams of ‘Mudblood Whore’. Now I enjoy being spoken dirtily to as much as the next person, but it doesn’t quite have the same effect coming from a twisted old bat in a portrait that it would coming from Aragorn, saviour of Middle Earth. So have taken to having my infrequent baths (Personally, I’m a shower girl, baths are rare treat for me) in complete and utter darkness so she doesn’t know I’m in here. Is quite nice really, what with the moonlight streaming in, and sexy warriors to fantasise about.

However having people interrupting my little private moments is both very embarrassing and also rather annoying. Am not sure what to do so slowly sink under water until only nose and eyes are above water. Effect is rather like alligator with rather bushy hair piled on its head. Should be grateful am in oversized Georgian clawfoot bath and not swamp. Vanilla scented water far more pleasant than thick mud.

Am now observing person who has invaded personal space from position under the water. They appear to be attempting to remove their shoes. No man can ever look graceful attempting this. This one though had deliciously broad back, tapering into narrow hips. Just how I like them. Would lick lips, but appear to be under water and would drown if attempted this.

In this light (or lack of) it is increasingly more difficult to tell who it actually is. Can only presume is Remus. Only he, Harry, Ron and Moody are here tonight. Somehow doubt its any of the latter three.

So find self in interesting predicament. Am naked in bath, horny, while a werewolf undresses. Hmm. Moonlight makes his skin look as smooth and as cold as silver as his shirt rises up as he struggles with shoes. This is getting better by the minute. Have always found Professor Lupin (remember, still in seventh year, and he is your DADA teacher…) disturbingly sexy. Is something about intelligent man that is seriously attractive, particularly to this Head Girl.

Would be very nice to slip fingers into sexy greying sandy blond hair, and shall we say, ‘release the animal’ inside.

Don’t want to over excite one’s self while lying in wa alm almost completely submerged, as increase in breathing rate is somewhat hindered by this. Quickly causes difficulties. Lift head out of water as discretely as possible and gulp air. Slip back in, hoping not to be noticed.

Bugger it. Splashed by accident.

Remus stops and can see muscles in back tense. Am mentally muttering to self, jusay say still, don’t do anything, Hermione Granger, and you shall be fine.

Have sudden panicky moment. Can he smell me? Quickly press knees together. Yeah. Like that’s going to help you, young lady.

Remus stands straight up, suddenly, half hidden by the shadows. He is decidedly lean in slim black trousers, and a tight black t shirt. Is disturbingly sexy and can feel sex starved body quickly beginning to react to this close stimulus.

Am well aware that sex starved and Hermione Granger do not usually go in the same sentence, but having been introduced to earthly pleasures by Charlie Weasley of all people some eighteen months ago, have become distinctly fond of it. And a three month drought due to being back at school for three months has left this young witch with a serious itch in dire need of a good scratching.

And Remus Lupin was just the werewolf to do it.

If I wasn’t underwater, am sure would be wearing self satisfied grin.

Ooh goody. Skin tight black t shirt is coming off. Familiar prickling is beginning deep in lower stomach as muscles that haven’t been used for some time are starting to wake up.

Must remember to take things slowly. Wouldn’t want to scare off big, furry werewolf by being too enthusiastic.

T shirt appears to be stuck. Wonder if it is moment to offer to lend a paw, but am enjoying seeing semi naked male form wrestling withck mck material. Body appears to be rather scar covered. Decide this in no way distracts from lean body and shall simply appreciate male form for a while.

T shirt is now off. Material slips over head and figure stands up straight. Watch as dark hair falls shampoo advert like around his broad shoulders. Dark hair. Very dark hair. Dark hair that is far too dark to ever to be called sandy.

And would that dark shadow not actually be a shadow, but a dark mark on the inside of a left wrist.

Appear to be attempting to inhale half the bath in shock.

Thankfully figure hasn’t noticed spluttering from direction of bath. Is busy muttering to self while unbuttoning what appears to be a black pair of muggle jeans. Very nice too. Am going to faint.

Never ever did I think Severus Snape would be undressing in front of me…