Magic for Modern Lovers

The door was ajar, which was unusual. Hermione pushed it open and paused upon the threshold. 'Professor?' she called and stepped forward.

A hand grabbed her upper arm and yanked her into the room, then forced her back against the wall as the door slammed shut inches from her ear. Spells for closing, locking, and silence hissed from her captor, whose hands now held both her wrists up against the wall and whose dark eyes glinted in the dimness as his mouth descended upon hers. His lips opened, tongue thrusting in to meet hers until she was kissing him as hungrily as he was kissing her. Then he withdrew suddenly, pulling back just out of her mouth's reach while still pinning her hands. He grinned wolfishly as she arched out towards him, trying for more contact.

'Diffindo,' he snarled, and her robes flew open to expose the t-shirt and short skirt she was wearing underneath. 'Good,' he said as his eyes flicked down her body. 'I see you came prepared for detention this time.'

His hands swooped to her hips and he lifted her off her feet, thrusting one leg between hers and pinning her against the wall again with the length of his body. His hands moved down under her arse.

She could feel his cock hard against her thigh, though it was still hidden beneath layers of cloth. She rode his leg, desperate for friction. Her face was now slightly above his and her hands were free, so she clutched his hair with one hand and wrenched his head over to give her access to his ear, which she began to lick and bite. Her other hand snaked down the front of his body and tried to twist into his trousers. 'The same cannot be said for you, though,' she growled. 'I don't have my wand--help me here.'

'Diffindo,' he muttered again, and his fly sprung open.

She plunged her hand in to liberate his silky hot, straining cock, running her fingers up and down it twice before reaching down to cup his balls. 'Fuck me now, Severus,' she whispered, then swirled her tongue around his ear before biting it again. 'I want you.' She grasped his cock and guided it toward her dripping pussy, one finger hooking into the cotton crotch of her knickers to pull them aside.

He paused for just an instant at her entrance, then he brought her down onto his cock, filling her with one hard stroke.

'Oohhhhh!' she moaned, eyes closed and head thrown back.

He shut his eyes tight and held perfectly still for a moment or two, fighting to keep control. 'Gods, you're so tight, so sweet,' he hissed. Back from the edge, he pulled out slowly and thrust back in as deeply as before. And again. And again. And again. Then he stayed there, filling her up so amazingly as he worked his thumb into the space where their bodies joined and stroked it over her clitoris.

She gasped and circled her hips, grinding into his thumb and rocking her pussy around his cock.

He slipped his hand up under her shirt and pushed aside her bra. His mouth went to her nipple while he raised his thumb from her clit up to her mouth. She closed her lips around it, sucking and licking it fervently. He pulled the thumb out and returned it to her clit, circling and stroking and pressing as he began to thrust into her again. She strained against him jerkily, breath loud and ragged, keening 'yes, yes, yes!' Then she shattered, her spasms rolling through her, pulling him along with her into an explosive climax...

Gods, I am a perv, Hermione thought as she gasped sharply into her pillows, hands now quiet on her crotch, Fantasy Snape and his glorious cock gone. I am a really talented, hard-working, persistent, perverted perv. If Gryffindor could earn points for this, we'd be solid for the House Cup this year.

'That sounded like a good one, Hermione,' came an arch voice near her head. Lavender.

Damn and hell, she had forgotten the Muffliato. Thank all the gods she had not actually said Snape's name aloud this time.

'Are you decent?' Lavender continued after a moment, with a rather forced-sounding giggle, and Hermione saw her roommate's fingers curl around the edge of the closed bed curtain preparatory to drawing it open.

Hermione sat up and yanked the duvet over her rumpled and gaping pajama top, baring her feet. 'Erm, Lavender, what do you want? I'm, uh, ...' Hermione trailed off.

'Busy? Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you were, you know, finished.' And Lavender, curse her, had pushed the curtain open and was peering in at Hermione. She was backlit by her bedside lamp, and her expression was impossible to read. Hermione blinked in the sudden light, speechless with embarrassment as Lavender sat down on the edge of her bed. Though really, she thought, why should I be embarrassed? I'm not the one bathing Ron's neck in my spit every night right in the middle of the common room. At least I am--was--trying for some privacy.

'Lavender,' she said a bit sharply, 'I'm sort of, not in the mood for girl chat right now. I'd like to get some sleep if it's all the same to you.'

Lavender ignored her. Her china-blue eyes had a very annoying sort of coy laughing look about them, Hermione saw. And there was something else in Lavender's face that Hermione couldn't quite place. Worry? Anger? Determination?

'Sooo, Hermione,' purred Lavender. 'Are you, um, seeing anyone special these days?' She flicked her eyes down to Hermione's lap and up to her face, smirking a bit. 'If you are, you are a sly one. I couldn't imagine who you might be finding time to work into your...busy...schedule. Is it long-distance, say, a certain guy from Durmstrang? Or someone closer to home?'

Irritating cow, thought Hermione, swallowing hard. She was sure Lavender could see the telltale wash of blood flooding up through her neck and face. At the same moment, she had a nearly overwhelming, absolutely mad desire to confide a little something to someone about her obsession with Severus Snape. It was very hard keeping it all completely bottled up, when every day some part of her brain and body were wrapped up in Fantasy Snape's hot, dark embrace. Ron and Harry, her best friends, would be a hundred kinds of sick if they had any inkling. But boy-crazy Lavender--at least she could have some sympathy for the way Hermione was feeling. Even if there was no way in Hades she could be trusted with anything like the truth.

Hermione stared down at her bare toes, which her private Snape loved to suck on. 'Closer to home,' she sighed. 'But thoroughly unrequited. You know how it is.' She looked up. 'Or not,' she said hastily. 'I mean, you and Ron, it looks pretty, um, requited from where I sit.'

Lavender was watching her quite keenly, without any of the smirk left on her face. 'Does it?' she asked a little stiffly. 'Well, it is bloody well requited.' She paused. 'On my side anyway.' And again her eyes glinted with something that was not like laughter at all.

Oh, mother of Merlin, she thinks that I want to, that I might... Hermione drew a breath and said carefully, 'Lavender, it is really...nice to see Ron really...getting along well with, erm, with someone who appreciates him so much.' Nice? She was stretching the truth pretty hard there. 'He deserves love.' That part was true, of course. 'I'm glad you are there for him.' Also not completely untrue--it did give her a pang to watch Ron and Lavender coiling around each other like mating flobberworms, but if she, Hermione, couldn't find it in her heart (or really, in her loins) to be with Ron that way, then she'd be a rotten friend if she begrudged his getting a little touch. Or, actually, quite a lot of touch.

She hesitated. Better be a little clearer in case she's not getting my drift. Not the sparkiest wand in the shop. 'So I want to let you know that a few minutes ago, when you heard me being, er, busy, Ron Weasley was the farthest person from my mind.'

Instantly the hard look (jealousy, of course) left Lavender's eyes and her expression became open and avid. 'Ohhh, Hermione, whooo then? Is it a Gryffindor? A seventh-year? You can tell me, I won't breathe a word.'


Ha! Hermione bit her cheek to keep from laughing in Lavender's face. She did smile though. 'Lavender, truly. All I can tell you is that it is Not Ron. Thoroughly unrequited, and Not Ron. And I'm truly okay about both parts of that. You know me--I don't have time or energy for a boyfriend these days. I'm just so busy--.' She stopped talking, aware that she would never, ever again be able to say the word 'busy' with a straight face in Lavender's hearing. She shook her head and smiled again. 'Anyway, I really could use some sleep now.'

Lavender looked at her for a moment and seemed about to say something, but then just flashed out with a coy smile. 'Well, Hermione, if you ever want to talk--you know, girlfriend to girlfriend--if you ever need any advice, I'm right here for you.' She bounced off Hermione's bed (at last!) and put her hands up to the curtains. 'Shall I close these, then?'


'Please. Thanks.' In her shadowed bed, Hermione lay back and smiled mirthlessly to herself. A seventh-year Gryffindor? Clearly Lavender's idea of perfect boyfriend material--Ron was nearly there. No, try a twenty-seventh-year Slytherin. Lavender did have something right, though. In a lot of ways I would be much better off pursuing something with Won-Won. I may lust after Severus Snape every single day, but even I know he is not, and never will be, Boyfriend Material. Hermione grimaced and turned on her side, willing sleep to come.

* * *
The next morning when Hermione left the breakfast table for the library, Lavender unwound her arm from Ron's waist and followed her out of the Great Hall.

'Hermione, thanks for talking to me last night. It's just kind of hard to know where I am with Ron. I want us to be somewhere good, but then there's you. You make me feel really insecure. You're brilliant and pretty and a prefect and Ron's best friend. He loves you, I know. I just want him to love me, too, and, well, not as a friend. He clams up when I try to talk to him about it, so I thought I'd try a different approach. Sorry if I was a little rude and nosy.' Lavender's blue eyes smiled into Hermione's brown ones.

Hermione gaped at Lavender. That was the most honest, no-nonsense speech she'd ever heard from Lavender Brown. 'N-no problem, Lavender. Yes, awkward. But glad I could help.'

'Anyway,' said Lavender. 'I got to thinking last night that maybe you'd like to borrow this.' She held out a chunky, oversized book covered in squashy pink leather with white letters tooled onto the front:

Magic for Modern Lovers
Dr Alixter Joy

A book of sex spells.

Hermione gaped again and glanced quickly around for teachers. 'Lavender, where did you get this book? Love spells are contraband! That part of the library is so highly restricted that I think only Dumbledore can get in there. Seriously, not even Madam Pince.'

Lavender rolled her eyes, 'Oh Hermione, it's not from the Hogwarts library. It belongs to a friend; I'm borrowing it from her for a couple of weeks. You know, since Ron and I are so new, I thought we'd start things off with a bang.'

Hermione threw up her hands in the universal sign for Stop Now.

Lavender giggled. 'Sorry, I do a little TMI sometimes. Anyway, do you know Romilda? Her mum is a charm breaker specializing in love spells, and Romilda says she has an amaaaazing library.'

Lavender got a faraway, hungry look as she said it, and Hermione had to struggle for a moment to keep from laughing at the spectacle of Lavender Brown coveting books.

'Mostly locked up, of course, but Romilda found this one in the garret. Apparently it was very popular in the seventies--everyone's parents have a copy stashed around somewhere. It's everyday stuff, really, nothing at all dangerous or Dark,' she said breezily. 'Just enhancements. And consensual things. Both people have to cast the spell together for most of these to work. And, thank the gods, Dr. Joy has modernized the language so it's not all 'Whenne a wytche and a wyzzard do planne to mete abedde,' you know? Look.'

Lavender opened the book randomly. 'Pulso Corium: A Suite of Spells for Spanking,' the type proclaimed above a line drawing of a witch holding what looked like a handful of limp spaghetti noodles over the bare bottom of a wizard (Or was he a werewolf? So hairy!) spread-eagled on a rumpled bed. As Lavender and Hermione watched, the witch brought her hand down so that the noodles smacked into her wizard friend's backside. The tiny wizard made a grunting sound and squeaked, 'Again, mistress.'

Hermione stared, open-mouthed, as the little couple repeated the flogging vignette.

Lavender giggled again. 'Some of it is pretty kinky. But there's plenty that's sweet and romantic, or plain vanilla. Lots of stuff you can do all on your own. Something for everyone,' she said cheerily. 'Why don't you borrow it overnight, Hermione? See if there's anything in here that will be good for, ah, business.' She closed the fat pink book and placed it in Hermione's nerveless hands before sauntering back towards the Gryffindor table and Ron.

Hermione stuffed the book into her bag and strode off toward the library.

When the hell had Lavender Brown become Hogwarts' resident sex-positive yenta? Sometime during the years Harry and Ron and I have been trying to stay a half-step ahead of torture, chaos, and violent death, she answered herself wearily, feeling rather old.

The library was not the place to get acquainted with Dr. Joy, nor was there an opportunity during the rest of the day, though she carried the book around to classes and meals. Whenever she opened her book bag, Hermione heard Magic for Modern Lovers give off a little exhalation of warm air, like a contented sigh, and caught a whiff of something...was that patchouli? She would probably have to spell her bag to get rid of that smell.

After an hour or two in the common room that evening, Hermione wished Ron and Harry good night. 'I'm going to go work upstairs. It looks like the roommates are down here, and I could stand the alone time.'

To bed with you, Alixter Joy, thought Hermione as she crawled onto her four-poster with her wand and the pink book, which was now noticeably warm and was making a low purring sound. She closed the curtains, murmured 'Lumos,' and opened Magic for Modern Lovers.

The book had no logical organizational scheme that she could discover. Dr. Joy's brief introduction assured her that this was deliberate: 'Variety is the spice of life for today's groovy witches and wizards. This book is bursting with sweet nibbles and salty snacks as well as full-course feasts for solos, duos, and groups of really good friends. Just take your wand in hand and dip in!'

Seriously? thought Hermione irritably. That is naff. No wonder this thing was sitting in the Vanes' attic gathering dust.

She began flipping through the pages, lingering occasionally over one of the line drawings, most of which starred the same rather elegant witch and hairy wizard, though occasionally a blond witch and wizard showed up for supporting roles.

She began to see some themes running through the collection of spells. For example, the book was scattered with 'mood setting' spells, many of which Hermione recognized--candle magic, the fountain of wine. She wondered how many everyday, seemingly innocent spells could be used in a sexual context. Oh great, she groaned inwardly. That's just what I need, to start thinking of EVERYTHING in terms of sex.

There were dozens of erotically tinged Engorgio spells, of course, with accompanying countercharms to use when the fun of having, say, enormous breasts, wore off and the backache part was setting in. Convenio spells, all illustrated, seemed to cover every possible mode of physical coupling and some that Hermione could have sworn would be impossible.

After about twenty minutes, Hermione grew tired of browsing aimlessly through Dr. Joy's cheery, dated dicta. Does this thing even have an index? She flipped to the back. Nope. Not groovy enough, I guess, she thought as she tapped the book with her wand and murmured 'Revelio Indexium.' A piece of parchment appeared on the bed next to her, printed minutely in the same font as Magic for Modern Lovers.

Where to start, though? What do I actually want to find? She pondered for a long minute, staring unseeing into the upper corner of the bed canopy, where a small spider was poised perfectly still in the middle of its web. I want to know more. More about Snape--about Severus. I just, I want more of him. That seemed a hopelessly vague notion--and also an impossible boon to ask of the universe itself, much less of Dr. Alixter Joy and his great pervy book. Knowing Severus Snape more would have to involve his participation, and he was, to her knowledge, locked up tighter than Azkaban. Also my teacher and a complete bastard, she reminded herself.

So this...exploration...would probably yield nothing usable. No problem. The search for knowledge is never in vain, she thought wryly.

Perhaps...Disco. Spells of Discovery. She found the heading and ran her finger down the list of spells, flipping to a few of the pages. Tantric spells, mostly, very woo-woo. One or two Disco spells seemed like they would be better off in a book called Magic for Jealous Lovers--the magical equivalent of going through your husband's pockets. She tsked quietly. If she were this book's editor, spells like this would be right out. Serious downer. Not groovy.

Percipio, then. Spells of Knowledge and Perception. Again she traced down the list and stopped at Percipio Corium. To know the skin? No Annuo in the title to indicate the spell was for consenting couples, no Solus to indicate it was a spell to be performed on oneself. A typo? She riffled to page 438 in Magic for Modern Lovers and found it. Percipio Corium, full stop. No typo, apparently. A spell to know the beloved's skin, involving both a potion and an incantation.

She read through the description of the spell's casting and effects, ears buzzing and heart thumping. This was it. A way for her to have more of what she craved. It did seem to nudge past an ethical line, though, a bit. Shouldn't this sort of thing be consensual? Dead easy though, if she was reading it correctly, except for one of the potion ingredients. But if she could steal boomslang skin from Snape's locked stores as a second year, cadging this ingredient would be a cakewalk.

She hesitated just a moment, then Summoned a Copying Quill and a fresh sheet of parchment. She touched the quill to the words Percipio Corium on page 438 of the book and then to the parchment, muttering the incantation.

When Percipio Corium was copied out neatly, Hermione rolled the parchment up with a slightly trembling hand and sealed it with a touch of her wand. She was pretty sure she would never dare use this. A sex spell might not be Dark or even dangerous in an ordinary sense of the word, but she had read enough to know that even the most innocuous seeming ones could have serious and unintended consequences.

She tucked the rolled parchment in the very bottom of her trunk and began to get ready for bed.

* * *

'Thanks for the loan, Lavender. It was, erm, seriously instructive.' Hermione placed the book on Lavender's table just as the other girl walked in from the washroom, toweling her hair. Hermione was already dressed and ready to head down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

'Isn't it though?' Lavender enthused. 'Isn't it great? Ron won't try any of the Convenios with me yet, but I'll tell you he sure loves it when I do Engorgio...'

'Oi, Lavender!' Hermione yelped. 'Too, too, too much information.' She tried to close her mind to any scenario that involved Ron, Lavender, and Dr Alixter Joy, but felt a rush of amused pity for Ron. He hadn't a prayer. She felt a little wistful envy, too. At least he had a shot at trying out some of the Annuos in Magic for Modern Lovers.

'Sorry! Did you find anything useful?' Lavender waggled her eyebrows up and down in a stagy leer.

'Maybe,' Hermione smiled briefly. 'It's a little hard to know what the most useful thing would be in my situation. But it was a fun read.'

'You should know I'm giving it back to Romilda in three days, right before we leave for Christmas vacs. If you want to look at it again, I'm sure she'll loan it to you. I'll let her know that you can be trusted with this kind of contraband and won't rat her out.'

'Oh,' said Hermione hastily. 'Please don't. You don't have to tell her I read it, do you? I'd like to keep all this private if possible.' She flashed what she hoped was a warm and confidential smile at Lavender. Please, please, don't let Lavender decide to start blabbing that little Miss Perfect Prefect has a pathetic crush on someone she can't have, likes to read cheesy sex manuals, and has a nightly date with her own hand.

* * *

[fin--for now]

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A/N: This is kind of faux one-shot--it's a chunk from a chaptered WIP that I haven't started posting yet. I'm blocked a bit on the early chapters, but this is my first ever fic, and I wanted to get to the posting part with at least a little of it! Many thanks to my encouraging beta, Jaqui.