
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/910955.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, F/F
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Hermione_Granger/Ginny_Weasley, Hermione_Granger/Ginny_Weasley/Remus
      Lupin
  Character:
      Hermione_Granger, Ginny_Weasley, Remus_Lupin
  Additional Tags:
      Threesome_-_F/F/M, Teacher/Student, naughty_schoolgirls, Community:
      pornish_pixies
  Stats:
      Published: 2004-08-12 Words: 2994
****** The Subject of Schoolgirl Fantasies ******
by victoria_p_(musesfool)
Summary
     Hermione has hidden depths, and Ginny is happy to plumb them, with a
     little help from Professor Lupin.
Hermione likes to talk, and likes Ginny to talk, which suits Ginny just fine.
The first time Hermione asked her to touch herself and talk, Ginny had dropped
her eyes, blushed at the fact that she was wanking in front of Hermione -
- wasn't that scandalous enough? -- and made up some vanilla fantasy about
kissing Roger Davies after Quidditch practice. Hermione had raised an eyebrow
and launched into her own fantasy, guiding Ginny's fingers to her slick, wet
flesh. Ginny had almost come again, fingering Hermione and listening to her
talk about wanting to be fucked by Viktor Krum and Oliver Wood at the same
time. Hermione also wants to spank Pansy Parkinson with her hairbrush, and bend
Malfoy over a chair and fuck him with her wand.
Hermione has hidden depths, and Ginny is happy to plumb them, their wank
sessions (just girls being girls together, Hermione says) leading to longer and
more intense fucking as the months wear on and the inevitable June
confrontation with Voldemort draws near.
Ginny doesn't hold back anymore, each and every fantasy pouring out as Hermione
fucks her with fingers and tongue; she talks about tying up Susan Bones,
wanting to see Dean and Seamus together, imagining Cho Chang on her knees in
the locker room, dark hair feathering over porcelain skin ready for Ginny and
Hermione to lick and suck until Cho forgets Cedric, Harry, Roger, everybody but
them.
When Ginny mentions wanting to make Luna's eyes focus on her for more than a
minute, Hermione invites Luna to join them as Ginny's Christmas present. Luna
is amazingly enthusiastic for all her vagueness, and very inventive with her
wandwork. It's rare for reality to live up to, let alone surpass fantasy, but
Luna managed it. Ginny owes Hermione for that one, and she's been wondering how
to repay her.
With that in mind, she pushes Hermione down onto the bed, and Hermione goes
willingly, legs falling open to give Ginny access to what she wants. Slick pink
skin and dark curly hair and the salt-tang of Hermione on her tongue; Ginny
still can't quite believe what they do together, how easy it is, and how good.
"I once saw Sirius sucking Professor Lupin's cock," Hermione says, pushing damp
hair off her forehead, voice high and needy. "For weeks after, all I could
think of was taking his place." Ginny has no doubts which 'he' Hermione's
referring to, though she herself has fantasized about them both, alone and
together, and only vaguely worries that fantasizing about a dead man might be a
little strange. "First, I'd kneel in front of him and kiss the inside of his
thighs." Ginny brushes her thumbs over the soft skin on the inside of
Hermione's thighs, following their lazy arcs with her lips as Hermione
continues, "Then I'd lick the head, do that swirly thing Ron likes so much--
" Ginny stops and raises her head. "Sorry," Hermione says, but she doesn't
sound sorry at all.
Ginny's one rule is no Weasleys other than she are to be mentioned -- she
doesn't mind that Hermione's also fucking Ron; she just doesn't want to hear
about it. Or Hermione's fantasies of Bill, Charlie, or the twins. She doesn't
ask and Hermione doesn't tell, and they are all happier that way.
She slips her fingers along Hermione's wet folds, slowly sliding inside.
"You're licking Professor Lupin's cock," Ginny prompts when Hermione moans
instead of continuing.
"Yes," Hermione replies, though it's more of an exhalation than a word. "I'd
suck on his balls, and then I'd take his cock in my mouth, just the head first,
slowly sliding my lips down, a little more, a little deeper. I'd fondle his
balls, then slip underneath so I could slide my fingers in and out of his
arsehole, until he couldn't stand it anymore and came in my mouth. For him I'd
swallow it all."
Ginny nods in response, enjoying the way the ends of her hair brush over the
heated skin of her shoulders and back, ghosting a hand over her own body to
glance over her own clit, shivering with the contact.
Hermione threads her fingers through Ginny's hair and pulls, demanding her full
attention, and Ginny teases her with long, slow licks and feather-light
touches, fingers and tongue taking their sweet time before honing in on her
clit. As Hermione's body tenses and bows under Ginny's mouth and hands, the
words tumble forth like rain.
"After that, he'd fuck me hard, from behind, his teeth on my neck, his fingers
in my mouth, and his other hand stroking my clit."
Ginny follows suit, flicking her thumb over the engorged nub before sucking it
into her mouth, pumping first two and then three fingers in and out of
Hermione's cunt until she moans, "And oh...Oh. Oh, God, Ginny."
And Ginny smiles, satisfied that even in the midst of her fantasy, Hermione
remembers who's really fucking her when it counts.
While Hermione shudders and comes, Ginny brings herself off with her other
hand, only the lightest of touches necessary now to cause that surge of
pleasure to pulse through her body.
As they lie next to each other, sweaty and sated, an idea forms in the back of
Ginny's mind. She's the twins' little sister, after all, and their most able
apprentice; planning mischief is in her blood. She's even better at being
devious than they, and cuter, to boot.
"Moon's full day after tomorrow," she says sleepily, resting her head in the
crook of Hermione's neck, one hand playing absently with Hermione's breast.
Hermione gasps when Ginny pinches a nipple, and says, "They say the day before
the moon is full, werewolves are rapacious. Insatiable."
"Mmm... Wonder if it's true."
Ginny doesn't have to look to see Hermione's slow smile. She can hear it in her
voice when she says, "Only one way to find out."
***
Ginny wears her oldest uniform skirt, so short it brushes the tops of her
thighs, barely covering her arse. Her crisp, white shirt pulls across her
breasts, barely contained in the simple white, cotton bra Hermione chose for
her. The crotch of her knickers is already uncomfortably wet, anticipating what
they're about to do. The top button of her shirt is undone, her tie loose
around her neck. She hopes Professor Lupin will lick away the sweat pooling in
the hollow of throat, has to swallow hard when she notices Hermione's nipples
are already taut and straining against her shirt. Hermione is not wearing a
bra.
Hermione also wears her uniform short and tight, her hair long and loose over
her shoulders, her Head Girl badge perfectly shined and pinned to her skirt.
Hermione has a reputation to maintain, Head Girl and perfect girlfriend, and so
what if everyone knows she'll screw anything that moves. Nobody would ever say
it, and that's all that matters.
They wait outside Snape's office for Professor Lupin. They still call him that,
though he hasn't been their professor in years, and he's stopped asking them to
stop. He comes to Hogwarts now for the Wolfsbane, as Snape is no longer safe
outside the walls of the school.
Ginny feels Lupin's eyes on them as he steps out of the office, door swinging
shut behind him, hiding them from Snape's gaze, though the defiant Weasley in
her thinks she could bring even sour old Snape to his knees with lust if she
wanted to. She decides she doesn't want to. They have a wolf to tame tonight,
after all.
She can see the heat flare in Lupin's eyes for just a moment before the mask
slides down and he is weary, wary Professor Lupin, helpful words and kind
smiles.
"Ginny, Hermione. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Hermione smiles like that cat that ate the canary. "We have an early birthday
present for you." She does something with her hips that makes her skirt sway
slightly, drawing both Ginny's and Lupin's eyes to it, and how little of her
long, pale, shapely thighs it covers.
His voice is hoarse when he says, "My birthday was in March."
"Then it's a late birthday present," Hermione says with a breathless laugh.
He raises an eyebrow, and says only, "I really shouldn't be seen in the school.
The parents--"
Hermione produces Harry's Invisibility Cloak, which shimmers as Lupin swirls it
around himself, his amused smile the last thing to disappear, and then follows
them to the Room of Requirement. When they arrive, he drops it into a silvery
pool at his feet, looking around curiously.
Ginny's palms are sweating, and she rubs them on the scratchy wool of her skirt
as Hermione locks the door behind them with a satisfying click and a swish of
her wand.
Hermione reaches across Lupin's body to grab Ginny's tie and pull her close for
a kiss. Ginny can feel the coarse fabric of his robes as her cheek grazes his
chest, and she hears his heart beating. Hermione's tongue is in her mouth,
sweet velvet-rough girlflesh, licking at her like she's the trifle from dinner.
Lupin chokes as Hermione deepens the kiss, hands wandering over Ginny's
shoulders and breasts, then up under her indecently short skirt. Ginny prefers
to touch as she's being touched, and one hand twines in Hermione's hair,
snagging in the tangles, while the other fists in the front of Lupin's robes
because her knees are starting to tremble under Hermione's devouring kiss.
His hand on her shoulder separates her from Hermione, who looks up at him
curiously, hip and eyebrow cocked.
"What are you doing?" he asks, backing away and uncurling Ginny's fingers from
his robe, only to find himself against the locked door. Hermione smiles and
Ginny feels another rush of wet heat between her thighs.
"What does it look like we're doing?" Hermione answers.
"While I'm exceedingly flattered," Lupin begins, his voice thick even after he
clears his throat twice, "this is utterly inappropriate." When her hand is
free, Ginny slides it down his body, feeling him tense as she brushes over the
unmistakable bulge of his erection. "Ginny! Please stop that."
Eyes wide and innocent, she says, "But Professor--"
"I'm not your--Oh."
Hermione's smile widens in the knowledge that she was right, which is probably
Hermione's biggest turn-on. Lupin pays lip service to rules but doesn't need
much convincing to break them, and the rules they'll be breaking tonight are
not ones any of them consider worth following.
"I see," he says, and his voice is sharp enough to cut glass, his body still
taut as a bowstring beneath her fingers. "Are you sure?"
Hermione pulls his face down to hers and kisses him in answer, feral as a cat
in heat. When he breaks away from her, he turns to Ginny and kisses her as
well. The bitter flavor of the Wolfsbane lingers on his tongue, but she
imagines she can taste Hermione in his mouth, as well.
They stumble toward the king size bed the room has provided, strewn with
brightly colored pillows and surrounded by flickering candles which fill the
room with the soft scents of almonds and honey, cinnamon and cloves, soothing
and spicy all at once.
Together, Ginny and Hermione push him down on the bed, scrabbling at his robes
until they're gone, exchanging ever more heated kisses all the while.
He is all angles and planes, and hard where Ginny has become used to soft -
- visible ribs and prominent pelvic bones instead of the soft flare of breast
and curve of hip. Hermione has her hands twined in his greying brown hair and
her tongue dips in and out of his mouth like a hummingbird sipping nectar from
a flower.
Ginny moves down the bed, pressing kisses to whatever skin she sees -- Lupin's
pale and covered with hair, Hermione's slightly darker and nearly hairless. She
remembers Hermione's fantasy, and settles between his knees, tongue tracing
lightly over his thighs.
He groans, muffled by Hermione's mouth, hands tearing at her shirt until the
buttons pop in a spray of mother-of-pearl and it hangs from her shoulders; she
shrugs it off, leaving the gold and red Gryffindor tie to dangle between her
rose-tipped breasts.
Ginny continues her exploration of his thighs and abdomen with her lips and
fingers, inching up and around the thatch of wiry brown hair surrounding his
cock. He trembles in response, and desire uncurls in her belly like a snake,
eager to strike. She leans down, tips of her hair brushing over his skin, and
licks the head, tonguing the slit lightly. He groans again, mouth against
Hermione's breast, as Hermione grinds down against the hand he's got between
her thighs. She's not wearing knickers, either, and Ginny shucks hers now, as
well, tossing them to the floor in relief.
Hermione twists her body over him, straddling his chest and leaning forward to
kiss Ginny. Her chin bumps into his prick and he gasps, and Hermione grins
sheepishly. He wraps long fingers around Hermione's thighs and pulls her body
back toward him, murmuring words that make her skirt disappear. Somehow, the
tie remains.
Hermione moans when he runs his tongue over her wet and swollen flesh, then she
takes his cock in her mouth. Ginny lowers her head to suck at his balls, eyes
locked with Hermione's. Hermione looks pleased, and Ginny wants that, wants
Hermione to have whatever she desires, because Hermione does the same for her.
She slides a hand between her legs, her fingers over her clit.
She can feel the strain in Lupin's thighs, knows he's close to coming, and she
and Hermione aren't far behind, when he groans.
"Wait. Wait." His voice is hoarse, his lips glistening as he peers around
Hermione's body to look at them.
Hermione looks over her shoulder at him, pushing sweat-soaked hair off her
forehead. "Why?"
Ginny sits back on her heels, watching, fingers still circling over her clit.
"Not as young as I used to be," he says with charming self-deprecation, "and I
want this to last a little longer."
"I thought werewolves had incredible stamina," Hermione replies, eyes glinting
and chin raised in challenge.
His answering grin is amused, knowing. "Do you believe everything you read,
Hermione?"
Before she can reply, and with a quickness belying his words, he rearranges
them. Ginny finds herself on her back, clothes vanished. Hermione is on elbows
and knees before her, licking her cunt. Remus kneels behind Hermione, pushing
her knees apart so he can slide inside her.
Framed by the curve of Hermione's shoulder, his grin is (and if Ginny weren't
so focused on the sensations coursing through her as Hermione's tongue flicks
against her clit, she'd groan at the pun) wolfish, his eyes lambent in the
light of the flickering candles.
They're mostly silent now, which Ginny isn't used to. She tries to talk but
can't do more than make small, incoherent noises; the only other sounds are the
wet slap of skin on skin, punctuated by soft moans and gasps. Yes, there, god,
yes. Please. So good, so hot. Fuck, yes.
She can't tell who says what, and doesn't think it matters.
Lupin's hands are long-fingered and strong, one curling possessively over
Hermione's hip, the other tangled in the thatch of hair between her thighs. He
licks and kisses her neck, her shoulders, her back, and Hermione arches and
quivers beneath him, every shiver and shake vibrating through her and into
Ginny, who twists and gasps, bucking against Hermione's mouth. Hermione has
small hands, but clever ones, fingers pumping in and out of Ginny while her
tongue drives Ginny to new heights of delirium. Ginny's hands move of their own
volition, skating over her body, cupping and squeezing her breasts, rubbing her
aching nipples before threading through Hermione's thick, damp hair, anchoring
her to the bed as she comes, and comes apart.
Lupin growls above them, hips pistoning into Hermione, whose hands tighten
painfully on Ginny's thighs, bringing her back down to earth. Lupin throws his
head back and thrusts, and Ginny can tell he's coming hard, deep inside
Hermione, who trembles and moans. Ginny strokes Hermione's hair and runs
fingers over her lips while Lupin's fingers continue to move between her legs.
Hermione bucks back against him, eyes closed now, mouth open and body shaking
as she climaxes, making guttural cries that sound as if they're being torn from
her throat.
They collapse on the bed next to Ginny, and spend a few minutes catching their
breath, letting pleasure flow through them.
Ginny is surprised at how quickly Lupin's ready for the next go, despite his
earlier words. She's also surprised at how good it feels to have him moving
inside her with languid strokes, so different from his hard, frantic thrusts
into Hermione. She is primed and ready, so she comes quickly, with longer,
slower surges of bliss radiating through her body. Hermione's thighs around
Ginny's ears muffle Lupin's harsh groans of release; Ginny licks and sucks at
her, savoring the taste of her mingled with Lupin, bitter and salty. She thinks
of the moon, moving and shaping the ocean, made flesh in Hermione, for her to
worship with her tongue and hands.
She never expected sex to make a poet of her, and laughs at her own
foolishness. The vibrations make Hermione tremble and moan, and her body
clenches around Ginny's thrusting fingers.
When they are done, Ginny curls around Hermione and Lupin settles in behind
her, circling them both with his arms.
"Vixens," he murmurs sleepily, and they laugh softly with delight.
"Werewolves," Hermione says with a smile. "Voracious."
"Insatiable," Ginny agrees. "So much for not believing what we read,
Professor."
It's his turn to laugh. "Same time next month then?" he asks.
"Mmm," Ginny replies while Hermione says, "Yes," enthusiastically.
Once again, Ginny thinks as she drifts off to sleep, reality has lived up to
the fantasy.
end
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
