This is a work of fan fiction. All characters are the properties of their respective owners. I own the story line.

Chapter 9 -The Wicked Weasley Witches Coven

Hermione sat at her desk reviewing a thick case file when there was a knock at her door. Mundungus Fletcher had been picked up the night before, and this time he had stolen goods on him. She was trying to decide which one of the prosecutors under her would be the most appropriate to handle the case. “Come in,” she answered as she closed the folder and set it in the center of her desk.

The tall woman who entered her office was striking and radiated a commanding presence. Her blonde hair was pulled into a perfect French twist, and her make-up looked like it had been applied by a professional. Her black, knee-length skirt and matching jacket were a severe cut that highlighted the perfect lines of her form and the length of her torso. The matching black leather boots stopped just below the knee, and the exposed bit of leg was tanned just enough to be healthy and radiant. The dragon skin handbag held in her perfectly manicured hands probably cost more than Hermione made in a month; which was no small amount, especially by Ministry standards.

“Penelope,” Hermione said with genuine affection as she stood up and straightened her own jacket.

A smile broke the severe façade of the woman in the doorway. “Hello, Hermione. Working hard I see.”

“A bit. Come in, sit down.”

“Actually, I was here to see if you would join me for lunch.”

Hermione fretted a bit. She had opening arguments in a case before the special magistrate in two hours. However, one did not turn down lunch with the Minister’s wife, even if she was your sister-in-law. “I’d be delighted to.”

“Excellent. I have reservations at Angelo’s. We should be back in plenty of time for your afternoon hearing.”

Hermione realized that she had just stepped into a trap. That was all she needed now. She was angry with herself for walking in to it. After all, it was much too late in the season for Penelope to be wearing anything so dark and heavy, which meant that it was worn for effect. Reservations at Angelo’s meant that this meeting was planned. She was no longer hungry.

“Why don’t we walk?” Penelope said. Underlings melted out of the way the as the women made their way through the crowded hallways. Hermione had developed a certain reputation for severity in dealing with incompetents, but she was no match for the Minister’s wife. It was rumored that every time she entered the building all real work ceased so that desks could be organized and anything which could be deemed as remotely offensive or derisive to the Minister could be removed. In the time since Percy had been appointed Minister, she had done nothing to disavow that reputation.

At the restaurant they were greeted by name, and immediately shown to a table in a private area with windows overlooking the restaurant’s fresh herb garden. Wine was offered and declined, the menu was recited and ordered from, and a small tray of cheese and fruit was left for the ladies to select from while their food was prepared by an Italian man whose English was only slightly better than that of a troll. Through the soup course they inquired as to one another’s families and recreational activities. Over salad they discussed their respective community outreach programs. During the main course the topic turned to rest of the Weasley family and Hermione finally relaxed her guard. She glanced at her watch as dessert was served, she had about half-an-hour until she needed to be in court.

“I understand you’re bookending the weekend of the Twins’ birthday and taking a long weekend.”

Hermione was grateful she had the bite in her mouth; it gave her a moment to think. “Yes,” she said as she daubed her lips with her napkin, “Ron and I are taking a long weekend together. Quidditch season will be over and I should be done with the Pruitt case by then.”

“Ah, well that should be nice. Where are you going?”

“We thought we might hop across the pond and take in Salem. I’ve been to the States twice and have never made it to Salem.”

“Salem is nice. Too many Muggle tourists, but if you stop by the Academy they can show you the real sites. The House of Seven Gables is delightful, particularly if you’re familiar with the book.” Hermione took a bite to avoid responding; she wasn’t sure that Penelope was really buying her story. “Mum is terribly upset that everyone seems to have plans that weekend. The twins are, of course, turning thirty this year and she wants to throw them a proper party. However, they too have ‘other plans’ that weekend.”

“Oh?”

“The twins have a knack for finding trouble on their birthday. Last year they were arrested, and the charges would have been extensive and highly embarrassing to the family. Fortunately, they took care of the issue before it became public knowledge and ruined all of our credibility.” She took a bite of her dessert and gave Hermione a significant look.

“What did they do?” She was sure that Penny wouldn’t give her salacious details, even if she had wanted them.

“I’m not sure this is the proper setting for discussing the mating habits of orangutans.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Have you talked to Michael lately?”

Hermione breathed a mental sigh of relief that Penelope had changed subjects. “Just this morning. He has a very keen interest in the Pruitt investigation, but has to remain separated, for obvious reasons.”

“Yes, that really is unfortunate. What’s even worse is that he could have had no control over it; his son has been estranged from the family for years. Do you think they’ll accept a plea bargain?”

“Not likely. James Pascal is a tough attorney, and he never takes a plea bargain if he thinks he even has a glimmer of hope.”

“That’s too bad. Knowing James, he’ll probably pit father against son in the trial, deflect blame onto Michael for his son’s abhorrent behavior. Even if he doesn’t, Michael’s standing in the community and as an Under-Minister is going to be ruined by the nature of this case.”

“It’s almost like Barty Crouch all over again.”

“Yes, but this time I think Michael will get to leave office under his own power instead of being murdered by his son.”

Hermione stopped for a moment and took in the expression on Penelope’s face. “Truly?”

“I’m afraid so. The scandals and upheaval of recent years have made people harshly critical of the Ministry. Only Michael’s solid reputation has kept him in this long, but I’m afraid that Mr. Pascal will destroy him, and we simply cannot afford that at this time.” Penelope critically examined a slice of kiwi, then bit into it and chewed slowly. Hermione tried in vain to avoid thinking about who the possible replacements for her boss could be. She knew she was deserving, but she was awfully young; of course the Minister was only five years older than she, but they were unlikely to promote a woman who wasn’t even thirty to Under Minister and Chief Prosecutor; not to mention the charges of nepotism.

Penelope continued speaking. “The Minister will be looking for someone smart, reliable, hard working, and most of all, free of scandal and hints of impropriety.” She raised a shapely eyebrow in a suggestive manner that spoke volumes.

Hermione put her fork down and wiped her mouth, the bite of tiramisu turning to ashes in her mouth as the other shoe dropped. The subject hadn’t changed at all. She glanced at her watch.

Penelope pushed her plate away and wiped the corners of her mouth. “I know you have an important afternoon, and time is getting away from us.”

“Thank you, I was about to say the same.” Hermione felt odd leaving the restaurant without paying, but she followed her host’s lead. The maitre’d acknowledged their leaving and wished them a pleasant afternoon, though, so Hermione knew that it was already taken care of. Idly, she wondered what it would be like to be able to enjoy such perks, and realized that she may be on her way to finding out, if what Penelope was implying was indeed true. All she had to do was win the Pruitt case, no small matter in and of itself, and do it without embarrassing the entire court. She just wished the case was over with; it had been dragging on since before Christmas and the details were bleeding over into the rest of her life and having some unexpected effects.

———————-

Hermione sat staring at herself in the vanity table mirror. Slowly, she pulled the brush through her thick hair and wondered for the thousandth time if going to Katie’s party was going to somehow compromise her. She hadn’t been able to get the conversation with Penelope out of her head for two days now. Her musing was interrupted by Ron leaning over her shoulder to nuzzle her neck. She gave no resistance as his hand slipped inside her bathrobe and ran over the lace material of her bra.

“The purple one, huh. You remember what happed the last time you wore the purple set, don’t you?”

“I remember very well what happened. I’m not quite sure how it happened so quickly, but I definitely remember it happening.” She smiled at him in the mirror and tilted her head so he could kiss her cheek.

“I thought you said there wasn’t going to be any sex at this party. If there is that would be really unfair, since I’m not going to get to have nearly as much fun.”

“Oh, please. Every year, you drink so much at the year-end league meeting that I have to get a Portkey because you’re too inebriated to Apparate. Last year you were too drunk to take a Portkey, remember?”

“Not really,” he said with a laugh. “I had good reason to be that drunk, I had just been named team manager and everybody was buying me drinks. It would have been rude to say no.” He laughed as she rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Besides, the hotel room was handy. Not to mention it had a great view.” He waggled his eyebrows at her and she blushed as she remembered being pressed, naked, up against the glass door to the balcony as Ron made love to her from behind. “Maybe I should just plan to get a room and have you join me after your party.”

“You are incorrigible.” She removed his hand from inside her robe. “However, that sounds like a really good idea since I’m going to spend my entire evening drinking wine and talking about sex. You might be the one in trouble this year.”

“Mm, I hope so. You know, they have a room with a private hot tub.”

“Get it; make sure it has a river view this time. I’m pretty sure someone was watching us from across the street last year.” She continued brushing her hair as she watched the mirror, but saw nothing as she ran through the implications of the conversation with Penelope again.

He gave her another kiss. “Something’s bothering you, you look a little distracted.”

She heaved a heavy sigh. “Penelope stopped by my office today and invited me to lunch. I didn’t think anything of it until she let drop that everybody in the family seemed to have plans the weekend of the twins’ birthday, and that your mum was upset by it. Then she tells me that last year the twins and their wives almost got in a lot of trouble on their birthdays for some very inappropriate behavior. Last, but not least, she implied that Michael may end up losing his job over the case that I am trying right now. Then she said that any candidate would need to be, ‘free of any hint of impropriety.’”

“Impropriety, you? Does she realize who she’s talking too? Nobody in the world, other than me and Harry, would believe for a minute that you had ever done anything scandalous. Besides, you’re still the best friend of Harry Potter and a war hero, that’s like hex-proof armor. Even if the scandal rags did say anything, people still love and respect you. Did you know Hermione was the third most popular witches name for three years after the war. Last year it was still top ten.”

“I thought I was the font of useless information in this house,” she said, a bit incredulous to the information. “Hermione is really a popular girl’s name now?”

“Maureen said three girls in her daughter’s pre-Hogwarts class are all named Hermione.”

“My mother would die if she heard that.” She chuckled a bit. “They picked that name because they were fairly sure it would be completely unique.” She turned and pulled him down into a brief kiss.

“Besides,” Ron continued as he nuzzled her neck, “it’s none of Penny’s business what you do in your own bedroom, or your living room, or on the kitchen counter, or the porch swing at the cabin, or-“

“That’s enough,” she blushed as she pushed him away and went back to brushing her hair. He was right, though, she told herself. It was none of Penelope’s, or anyone else’s business, what she did behind her bedroom door. Her apprehension about the evening began to evaporate. She was just going to a get together with her sisters-in-law, then going and meeting up with her husband after a business meeting. It was no big deal, it would not affect her career, it would not keep her from being promoted. No matter how many times she said it though, she could never quite shake the quiet little voice inside that said that good, professional girls did not risk their entire careers for a little wild sex. “How would you know what the most popular witches’ names are, anyway?”

“Hello, half the Cannon’s are women this year. There are days that getting them to talk about Quidditch is impossible.” She noticed he was blushing, though, and assumed he’d been reading baby magazines again. “Besides, you’re missing the point. The point is that if Michael does have to step down they pretty much have to promote you. You’re the perfect candidate: popular, respected by your colleagues, well versed in the law, connected to people in power, familiar with the job, and you look really hot in a prosecutor’s robe.”

“I don’t think the last one is going to matter much.”

“You might be surprised,” Ron said, his tone more serious. “I’ve watched you in court a couple of times and there’s a few of the guys on the Wizengamot that watch every move you make. I thought I was going to have to bust some heads last time, one of the guys was actually drooling. Of course that could have been just because he was really old.” Ron took the brush from her and began to brush her hair in long strokes. She smiled at him in the mirror. It had been a few months since he had done this. It confirmed her suspicion that he preferred her hair longer, despite saying that her short hair was cute or sexy after she got it cut. Finally, after several minutes he stopped. “I’m glad you decided to grow it back out.”

“I noticed.” She had felt the stirring of an erection almost as soon as he started brushing her hair. She was sure that by now he was fully erect, but he had stepped back far enough that it wasn’t poking her.

“You’d better hurry up and get dressed. Katie’s party starts in ten minutes, and you don’t want to be late for wine and sex talk.”

“I am dressed,” she said archly.

“Half naked, drinking wine, and talking about sex? I’m not so sure I should let you go to this party,” he said with a smile as his hands came to rest on her shoulders and began to rub. “Merlin only knows what you girls are going to get up to.” Despite his playful tone, she knew there was a certain amount of trepidation there as well. He was still not completely sold on the idea that going to the twins’ party was a really good plan, but he was willing to try it.

“Don’t worry, nothing’s going to happen tonight. The older girls are holding this party to help us younger girls.” She sighed contentedly and leaned back into him; she was right about his erection. “I will admit I’m still a little nervous, too. I mean, this is so not how I was raised.”

“But if it’s just to talk about how things happen at these parties, why are you wearing a bath robe and sexy underwear instead of jeans and a blouse?”

“Katie said something about trying on costumes for next weekend, maybe making it some kind of masquerade or something. If I’m going to be changing in front of them, I certainly don’t want to be wearing granny-panties and an old woman bra.” It was her turn to blush now. “Besides, I do want to look a little sexy. I mean, wouldn’t you want them to think you were sexy if you were going, knowing what will be happening next weekend?”

“I guess I can see that,” Ron said after a moment’s thought.

She watched him in the mirror. He wanted to say something. She gave him time to compose his thoughts before she said anything. She was about to ask him what it was when he started talking.

“I’m just worried about where the line of ‘too far’ is. I don’t want us to go somewhere that might screw up what we have. One of the guys on the team is going through a divorce right now because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. I know everybody in our family seems to have pretty stable relationships, but think about all the people we know who are still single at our age, or are divorced by now.”

She turned around and wrapped her arms around her husband. She pretended not to notice his embarrassment as she tucked his engorged cock into the front of her robe. Now that he had finally articulated how he felt, she could completely understand. Half the people in her department were divorced, single, or stuck in a miserable relationship and she didn’t envy them at all. At least her husband cared enough to be concerned. She looked up at him. “I love you so much. You are so good to me. I want you to be completely honest; do you think this is going too far?”

He sat down on the trunk at the foot of the bed and took her hands in his. “I don’t know,” he said after a long minute, “that’s why I’m concerned. If I knew one way or the other, the answer would be easy. Unfortunately, if it is too far, we won’t know it until it’s too late.”

Answers that would minimize his fears or make the case for going popped into her head in rapid succession with a lawyer’s analysis of arguments and counter-arguments. However, she dismissed them all for what they were- debating points and lawyer’s arguments. He was a good, caring man and he deserved an honest answer from a loving wife. She brought his hands up and kissed his palms. “If you say you don’t want to go, we won’t go. I won’t risk you or our love for each other to satisfy a sexual curiosity. It’s not worth it. Nothing in the world is worth what you give me.”

She felt like she was flying through the air when he pulled her up off the bench, swung her around and deposited her on the bed. Instantly he was on top of her, his hands tangling in her hair. “Gods, I love you,” he growled as he crushed his lips to hers. She’d barely had a chance to realize what was happening when his tongue invaded her mouth; she sucked on the intuder and smiled to herself as he groaned deeply. In response, he freed a hand and slid it in between her legs and cupped her pussy as he kissed her harder. She was torn, she should be leaving for Katie’s at any moment, and Ron still hadn’t finished getting ready for his meeting. On the other hand, her husband was about take her in a very possessive way that she found highly erotic.

Her mind was made up when he shifted his weight and spread her legs with his own. “Yes,” she hissed as he pulled her underwear aside and pressed his erection against her. She lifted her knees slightly and he slid into her with a solid thrust. She felt so wanton as he drove her into the mattress, she was still dressed in the clothes she was going to be wearing to the party tonight and she almost didn’t care. She knew her hair was going to be in a right state as he wound his other hand back into it. She couldn’t remember a time he had ever so completely owned her, and she rather liked it. She brought her legs up and wrapped them around his waist so she could just ride what he was doing to her. The change in position resulted in his pubic hair and bone smashing into her clit on every stroke as he pushed deeper into her.

“Fuck me!” she cried out when Ron’s mouth abandoned hers. She knew she was done for when his lips found the spot at the base of her neck. There was a nerve there that seemed to be attached to the pleasure center in her brain and his tongue seemed to know right where it was. She buckled under the intense sensation of his tongue and his driving cock and her orgasm hit, not like a wave but like a bolt of lightning. She begged him to keep fucking her until the last shock of pleasure faded from her body.

His dick felt huge inside her as he continued to pump away at her. Now he was stroking faster than harder. “Are you close?” she asked, fairly sure that he was.

“Very,” he growled.

“Stand up,” she said. He started to protest. “Please, stand up so I can get up.” He didn’t look particularly happy about it, but he did as she asked. She almost couldn’t believe that she was about to do what she was doing, but she did it before she thought about it too much. She dropped to her knees in front of him and grabbed his wrists. “Fuck my mouth,” she whispered as she brought his hands to the sides of her head.

“Say what?” She was sure it was confusion and not deafness that had struck him. Not in all the time they had been together had she ever just dropped to her knees in front of him. Years before she had read an article about the politics of power and oral sex. She had vowed to herself that she would never let herself be subjugated to someone else’s dominance. Oral sex was usually where that domination started. Her recent studies had only reinforced that perception. Only recently had she begun to understand that giving in held its own form of power; and certainly its own pleasure.

“Fuck my pretty little mouth,” she said again as she licked her lips. She reached up and took hold of his cock as she felt his long fingers grip her hair. The feeling was uncomfortable, she felt like she couldn’t escape, but she trusted him not to hurt her. She licked the head, then sucked it into her mouth. All she did was suck and lick though, she did not bob or move up and down. After a few seconds he seemed to realize it as well. His hips began to rock back and forth as he held her in place. She knew he had to be close. His balls were pulled up tight against his body when she reached up to massage them. She began to suck harder with every in stroke, and he began to stroke deeper.

“Fucking a,” he growled. She looked up at him and took as much of his cock as she could into her mouth. “Fucking beautiful,” he said as they made eye contact. An inarticulate sound erupted from his throat as his cock jerked and began to fill her mouth with strings of warm liquid. When he was done, he let go of her and the exhilaration of freedom was tempered by an indefinite feeling of separation. It wasn’t something she felt she would enjoy all the time, but like all things, it had its place.

“Damn, what’s gotten in to you?” he asked as he helped her to her feet and enveloped her in a hug.

“You got into me,” she said with a cheeky grin, “don’t you remember?” She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m already ten minutes late and my hair looks like I just got fucked.” There was a certain delicious naughtiness about that word and she savored the way her mouth wrapped around it. Even better was the reaction it had on her husband. He was shocked and excited at the same time, he looked like he was ready to throw her down on the bed and ravage her.

“Probably because you did,” he said with a snicker. He reached up with one hand and straightened the worst of it. “You should leave it like that. That is seriously fucking sexy.” She turned and looked at herself in the vanity mirror, turning her head slightly this way and that to get a better look. She sighed, it would take twenty minutes to fix it, even with a wand and a bottle of Sleek EZ’s hair tonic.

“You think this is sexy?” she said, running her fingers into it and fluffing it a bit.

“Dead. Fucking. Sexy. If you run your fingers through your hair like that again, neither one of us is getting out of this house tonight.”

“You mean, like this?” she asked with a devilish smile. This time she used both hands as she leaned her head back and ran her fingers through her hair, pulling out the worst of the knots as she did. Ron leaned down and licked her neck before attaching himself like a vampire. Despite herself, she moaned before she pushed him away. “Okay, stop that. Really. We both have places to be tonight.” She nibbled his ear as he leaned into her neck again. Once he released her, she whipped off her robe, checked it to be sure it was still clean and put it back on. “I’ll be at the hotel by eleven, and don’t drink too much.”

“Is it eleven yet?”

“Patience, dear, patience.” She picked up her wand, ran her fingers through her hair, and Disapparated with a ‘pop’.

She stood perfectly still when she appeared at Swing Town, the mutual home of Fred, Angelina, George, Alicia, Katie, and Lee. Looking around the room, there were no signs of booby traps, but that didn’t mean anything since the room was cluttered. The disarray just meant that Fred and George had plenty of places to hide some of their nastier surprises. The door opened and Hermione turned to see Katie standing in the doorway; her jaw dropped.

Katie’s long, slender legs were squeezed into a pair of thigh high black boots that had at least a four, if not five inch spike heel. Above that, more black leather pulled tight across her skinny body while lacings up the side showed bits of the extensive tattoo work that adorned her light tan skin. Her breasts, which always looked large on her small frame, jutted out and strained against the leather. A heart shaped cut-out revealed her full cleavage and a fair amount of her breasts. Her short multi-hue-dyed black hair was held in place by a headband that was topped by two pointy, cat-like ears. She twirled her ‘tail’ as she leaned against the door.

“That’s… interesting,” Hermione said.

“I thought you might like it,” Katie replied with a broad smile, “given your husband’s fascination with cats and all.” She smiled at Hermione’s apparent confusion. “It’s okay to walk through the room, I got the boys to clean it up.”

She picked her way across the room, careful not to brush up against anything. “What do you mean, Ron’s fascination with cats? I can barely get him to play with Crookshanks.”

“Sounds like your husband has a dirty little secret. According to Ginny, your husband went through quite a cat fetish phase in his middle teens.”

Hermione rifled through her memory and the only thing she could come up with was a span of week or so in her fourth year when all the boys in Gryffindor had teased Ron by meowing at him every time they spoke to him. Ron hadn’t ever explained it and she had finally let it drop when the boys all moved on to another target.

Katie reached up and pulled a tangle loose from Hermione’s hair. “Were we a naughty little witch? Is that why you’re late?” Hermione blushed profusely, but said nothing. Katie laughed, “I can’t say as I blame you.” She gave Hermione a once over. “Can’t say as I blame him, either,” she purred as she leaned in and gave her a peck on the lips.

“Thank you,” Hermione said, and blushed even deeper. It was the first time she had ever had another woman overtly make a pass at her or pick her up, or at least the first time she was aware of.

“You’re so cute,” Katie laughed. “Let’s get downstairs before Ginny embarrasses herself. Better yet, let’s hope we get down there just as she’s in the middle of embarrassing herself.” Hermione watched in awe as they descended the stairs. She had spent nearly two weeks taking belly dancing classes, and had continued practicing, but she couldn’t manage half the movement that her host was. “Can I offer you a glass of wine?”

“White, please,” Hermione responded as they cleared the stairs. She accepted the proffered glass and joined the others in the Great Room. Fleur and Angelina were a study in contrasts as they reclined in a love seat: Angelina, tall, dark of skin, and dressed in a short robe of red silk and lace; Fleur, short, pale, and draped in a semi-sheer white gown that only seemed to heighten the silvery sheen of her platinum blonde hair. On an adjacent couch, Alicia sat with her feet curled under her and toyed with the belt of her jade kimono. Lastly, Ginny was sprawled across an overstuffed recliner. In her hand was an empty glass that had held a dark red wine. Her black, silk robe was open to reveal a black corset with copper highlights.

“Hermione!” Ginny squealed as she jumped to her feet, then staggered just a bit. “I’m a little drunk,” she said as she threw her arms around her friend and crushed their chests together. She whispered loudly, and Hermione was sure that everyone heard what she was saying. “My pussy is a little itchy, too. Katie keeps teasing me with her tail, but won’t do anything about it.” Hermione shivered as Ginny licked her ear. “I don’t suppose you want to help me with my problem, do you?”

“Ginny!”

Ginny laughed, and Hermione realized her friend was not quite as drunk as she was pretending to be. The other girls laughed as well and she realized she had been the butt of a joke- the price of being late. She took it in stride with a shake of her head and sat down on the far end of the couch from Alicia.

“The J.B.F. look suits you,” Angelina said with a smile. “You should wear your hair like that more often.” Hermione reached up and tried to flatten her hair down.

“You’re right,” Alicia added, “very eighties rock chick. She almost looks like a young Tawny Kitaen.”

“Who?” Ginny asked.

“She was in the Whitesnake videos in the late-eighties; staples of hair-metal rock. Tawny was the object of masturbation for millions of young boys all over Europe and America. George is a big fan of that period of her work. Unfortunately, she went to shit afterwards.”

“Is she the woman on the poster in George’s closet?” Katie asked from the kitchen.

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Angelina looked at Hermione critically. “Hermione has a much prettier face. The hair is spot on though. I bet if we put her in that white dress you have, George would be all boner.”

“Is that why George insisted on buying the Jaguar?” Katie called from the next room.

“I wonder if we could get her to roll around on the hood for him?” Alicia said with a sideways smile.

“Oh, that would be hot. With the rain and the back lights. Très sexy,” Angelina purred.

“Guys, I’m right here!” Hermione said.

“And you’re such a lovely shade of red,” Ginny added with a laugh.

“Yes, I’m sure I am. So let’s change the subject so I can return to my normal pigmentation.” The new subject centered on the state of her hair and what Ron must have done to her to leave it in such a condition. Hermione continued to endure the good natured abuse of her sisters for several minutes while snacks and additional drinks were distributed. She figured the only way to stop it was to out-do it. “The worst of it happened when I was my knees in front of him and he was fucking my mouth,” she said in the most off-hand manner she could manage. She felt herself blush as all the girls stopped and looked at her.

“Hermione!” Ginny exclaimed.

Hermione was glad to see that her plan had worked, but she was afraid it was about to backfire on her. She’d over done it, she could see that in the reactions of the others. She had tried too hard and made a fool of herself. She decided to play it off as no big deal, even though it was. “Yes, I know what it means,” she said as she looked back at Ginny and made a face.

“All righty then,” Katie said as she sat down on the large ottoman. “And on that note, I think we should move into the next phase of tonight’s party.” She raised her glass. “First, let us welcome the newest members of our exclusive little club: Fleur, Hermione, and Ginny; welcome to the Wicked Weasley Witches. A toast, to the Wicked Weasley Witches, may our coven find sisterhood, friendship, and naughtiness in numbers.” The girls all raised their glasses in agreement and drank to the occasion.

“Tonight we will get to know each other in ways that we have not in the past. It’ll be like a slumber party; we’ll learn some secrets, share some things that will embarrass us, and some things that will make next weekend so much the better for us. Because let’s face it, the reason for next weekend is so that we get to have really great sex.” Hermione joined in the general laughter and cheering, despite feeling nervous about what secrets she was going to have to tell. “Since Hermione seems eager to share the details of her very active sex life, we’ll let her go first.” Katie picked up a vase off the table and offered the opening to Hermione.

The paper she withdrew was small, pink, and folded in half. She opened it and swallowed. She couldn’t share that with her sisters; she didn’t want to admit she did that. However, there was no way out now, and she did kind of agree to this. “Everybody else has to do this too, right?”

“I suppose I should have explained the rules,” Katie said. “One person reads the question, and everybody takes a turn answering it.”

“Okay,” Hermione said, taking a deep breath. “What is the one thing you can do that always turns your husband on?” She looked around nervously and kind of tucked her chin to her chest. “Ron likes to watch me masturbate. No matter how bad a day he’s had, no matter how tired he is, if I play with myself for him, he gets very turned on.”

“At least I’m not the only one,” Ginny said.

“That masturbates for her husband?” Alicia asked.

“No, that likes to watch other people,” Ginny said.

“You can be my voyeur,” Katie said, as she turned to face Ginny and ran her hands over her leather clad chest.

“Oo, baby.”

“Fleur, what do you do to turn Bill on?” Hermione asked quickly, trying to get back on track before the situation devolved any further.

“Bill ‘as many turn-ons, ‘e iz a very randy man. However, I think the one that would be the most… useful to know would be ‘is ears. They are very sensitive. Nibble them, bite them, blow in them, all are good. The best is to lick his earlobes.”

“Just how sensitive are they?” Hermione asked. She noticed that Angelina was wearing a very knowing smile.

“One night I tied ‘im to a chair, and just played with ‘is ears. I did not touch ‘im with anything other than my mouth. Within two minutes, ‘e was like a flagpole. In five minutes ‘e was begging me for release. After thirty minutes, ‘e was out of ‘is mind with desire. At that moment, I licked ‘is cock once, that was all it took.” She gave an arch little smile. “As I said, very sensitive.” Fleur looked over at Angelina. “You already knew zis, non?”

“I did,” she replied.

“Bill told me you are very good in bed; that you are ruthless when you are teasing, or pleasing, your lover.”

“Did he tell you about…”

“Oui. He told me much about this household.” Now it was Fleur’s turn to smile. “I am very much looking forward to this party. I have not ever had sex with twins before. Do they both engage a woman together?”

Alicia, Angelina, and Katie all shared a knowing look and laughed. “That is their favorite thing to do,” Angelina answered. “Fred and George like to team up and drive a woman crazy. Being twins, they communicate with just a look, so they are always in sync with one another. Being between them is- amazing. Once or twice they have had me going so hard I’ve actually blacked out.”

“Blacked out?” Hermione asked, a little frightened by the prospect.

“Yeah. I started getting light headed from lack of blood to the brain because it was all going somewhere else. Then George kissed me, and I couldn’t get enough air and just… blacked out. I was only out about five or ten seconds, but I understand why orgasm is called the ‘little death’. Apparently, it’s fairly common among bondage practitioners.”

“Why are you looking at me?” Katie asked, looking back and forth from Alicia to Angelina.

“Well?” Angelina probed, “Is it true?”

“You know bloody well it is. Besides, we’re supposed to be talking about the boys’ fetishes, not ours. I’m sure that question will come up later.”

Hermione was only mildly surprised to find out that Katie was a bondage freak. Her research had clued her in to several cues that a submissive gave off that indicated their preference, and Katie had them in spades. Her manner of dress and styling also indicated an outward rebellion to established norms, so the knowledge that she led a sex life well outside ‘normal’ parameters just seemed to fit. However, Hermione also knew that she would be giving Katie a wide berth next weekend. She wanted nothing to do with that particular path of sexual adventurism. She was already knee deep in it with the Pruitt case, and next weekend was supposed to be an escape from all that. She realized she also needed to know who Katie’s Dom was, so she could avoid him, or her, too.

“I ‘ope so,” Fleur said with a devilish smile. “Alicia, what is George’s trigger?”

Alicia smiled and extended her leg. “Feet. George has a major foot fetish. If your feet are at all ticklish, you’ve been warned. He will definitely go after your feet. If you play footsies with him, he’ll do anything you want.” She chuckled a bit. “If you give him a bottle of lotion, he’ll give you a foot massage without even asking; which has its advantages.”

Hermione realized the bottom of Alicia’s feet were softer than her own hands as one caressed her ankle and calf.

“Ginny, what’s Harry’s great weakness?”

Ginny spent a long moment chewing her lip before she answered. “It’s hard to say. Harry’s tastes are… broad. He likes a lot of different things. I guess I would I have to say… the school girl look. Plaid skirts, pigtails, knee socks, the works.”

“Harry has a school-girl fetish,” Katie cooed. “Does he like to spank naughty little school girls?”

“As a matter of fact, he does,” Ginny replied. “I almost used that as his best turn on, but it’s a little exotic for some people.”

“Oh, I can’t wait.” Katie was practically bouncing with excitement. “Have you ever used ‘Essence of School Girl’ with him?”

“Used it? Hell, with all of it I’ve bought over the years I should own the company.”

Hermione felt a bit left out as all the other girls laughed and cackled in a way that made her think there was a reason they were called witches. The trip to Miss Madelaine’s with Lavender had only begun to open her eyes to the breadth of perversity one could get up to. She was almost afraid of what she might learn at the party, almost but not quite; she never feared learning, only the application of the knowledge.

“What about your husband?” Ginny said to Katie. “What makes him frisky?”

“Girls with big tits,” she replied, looking meaningfully at Ginny. “Mine are decent, but he’s going to find yours irresistible.”

“That’ll be a nice change.” A couple of the other girls made inquiring remarks. “Harry’s an arse-man. My tits get a little neglected sometimes.”

“I know the feeling,” Angelina added. “Fred is like that too.” She glanced over at Hermione, “If you don’t like anal, make sure Fred understands that you don’t want him going there. Otherwise, it’ll be the first thing he does.”

Hermione was a tad disappointed. The idea of having both the twins at once had intrigued her. She was particularly interested in those little ways that they were different that she had never known about, could never have known about, before. She wasn’t sure she would be ready to have Ron take her that way that soon, and it wouldn’t be fair to let anyone other than Ron do that first, especially given his recent interest.

She wondered if she should ask about it. It seemed like the other girls were all pretty comfortable with it, but she was unsure what or how to ask, and she didn’t want to look foolish. She’d already done that with her ‘fucking my mouth’ comment. It was probably a bit over the top, or at least for her it was over the top. Her hesitation cost her though, and the conversation moved on.

“I suppose this means that I get to draw next,” Angelina said as she stuck her hand in the vase. “Who do you most want to have sex with at the party? Harry,” she said without batting an eye. “I got an eyeful of him in the showers once after a Quidditch match. The only reason I didn’t jump him right then is because he and Ginny had just started going out. A week earlier and I would have been the first girl to score the famous Harry Potter.” She looked at Ginny and made an exaggerated pout as she crossed her arms.

“Maybe if you’re good to me I’ll let you score him next weekend,” Ginny shot back, with a slight bob of her head.

“Good to you, huh?” Angelina smiled and affected a bad oriental accent. “I be good for you, love you long time.” The girls all got a good laugh, then Angelina asked Fleur who she wanted to sleep with.

“As I said, I want to try the twins.” Hermione thought that Fleur was about to say more, but then she settled back into the love seat and sipped at her wine. As an afterthought she motioned for Katie to go next.

“I want to get spanked by Professor Potter,” Katie said as she bounced on the ottoman and pulled her hair up in short pigtails. She said something in a language Hermione didn’t understand, but thought it sounded like Japanese. Ginny asked her to translate. “Professor, I can’t do that. No, not there. Please, no, Professor Potter.”

“Where did you learn to speak Japanese?” Hermione asked her. She thought she had a pretty good idea, but wanted to be sure.

“From watching anime and hentai. Each to their own,” she said with a shrug as she looked back. Hermione suppressed a shudder; a girl like Katie probably would have been a dream come true for Pruitt, except that she probably wouldn’t resist enough.

Ginny blushed when it was her turn. “I want to sleep with Hermione,” she said as she tucked her chin to her chest.

“Really?” Angelina said, looking back and forth between the two. Hermione knew she was blushing as well and tried to sink down into the corner of the couch. “You two have never experimented?” Both girls shook their heads. “How long have you two been thinking about it?”

“Years.” “Couple of months,” Ginny and Hermione responded respectively.

“I think that’s sweet,” Alicia interjected. “You two have been friends for years and you’ve just discovered you have a mutual attraction. I’m jealous, I’ll bet that’s going to be some seriously hot sex.”

Hermione felt like she was on fire her face was so warm. It never ceased to amaze her how easily talk about sex could set off her blush reaction when she was always in total control of every tick of expression or emotion when she was in the courtroom. She was so busy trying to figure out how she could get herself back under control now that she almost missed hearing Alicia say that Ron was the one she was most looking forward to. “Oh?” was the best response she could come up with. She had just assumed that all the other girls would want to sleep with Harry; that’s the way it had always been.

Alicia looked over at Katie, as though looking for some kind of tacit approval, and then turned back to Hermione when she got the nod. “Okay, I’m about to spill the beans on a whole bunch of family secrets that you guys were going to find out sooner or later.” She looked at Fleur, “Are you familiar with a shop called Miss Madelaine’s Magical Toybox?” She indicated she was. “I know you two are,” she said, pointing at Hermione and Ginny.

“How do you know that?” they asked in unison.

“Because I am Miss Madelaine,” Katie said, throwing up her hands as though to say ‘ta-daa’.

“You mean to tell me I’ve been paying full price to my family for all this time?” Ginny said.

“Don’t worry sis, we got your back,” Angelina said with a smile. “Do you really think that Miss Madelaine’s has a frequent shopper program that just sends out random goodies?”

“I don’t know.”

“Does Weasley Wizard Wheezes?”

“No.”

“There you go.”

“Wait a minute,” Hermione interjected. “Are you saying that WWW owns Madelaine’s?”

“Only in part,” Alicia said. “Even then, it’s through a shell company. This is where it gets complicated, but you’ll appreciate the lawyerliness of this. When Penelope found out that Katie, Angelina and I were the owners of Miss Madelaine’s, she threw a fit. She was afraid that some reporter or politico was going to tie it to Percy, since it was his immediate family. So we all sold out to Katie on the condition that she sell our part to a silent partner. WWW established an off-shore shell company called Ferret Enterprises, and bought 40% of Miss Madelaine’s from Kathryn Madelaine Jordan. The director of Ferret Enterprises is A.J. Bell and the chairman is A.R. Johnson. Since we all hyphenated our names, we are all technically in compliance with the law, but the business is all but untraceable to the Weasley’s. Keeping that quiet cost us a mere two-thousand galleons in campaign contributions to Percy Weasley.”

“That’s,” Hermione stopped with her mouth wide open, “brilliant. Completely amoral, but brilliant. Whose idea was it?”

“Penelope’s. She also receives 5% of net profits as an unnamed consultant. It keeps the kids in new shoes.”

“Her kids always have really nice shoes,” Ginny said.

Alicia didn’t reply, merely raised an eyebrow.

“So as convoluted and deceitful as this is,” Hermione said, “it doesn’t explain why Ron is at the top of your list. And no, I’m not jealous,” she added hastily at the look from Alicia, “I’m just curious why Ron and not Harry?”

“I could ask you the same question, but I’m sure our answers are very different.”

“Probably,” Hermione replied, feeling a little defensive.

“Okay, just follow along because this is a little weird. Shortly after we opened the Toybox I met a woman through one of our distributors. She makes dildos for a living. One of the things she does is custom dildo molds based on a particular person’s… assets. We thought it would be a fun service to offer, so we made an arrangement. Part of the arrangement is that we have the option to reproduce and sell models in the store if the customer agrees. We don’t identify them, but we do give them fun little nicknames to market them by. I have every one we ever reproduced in my personal collection, about a gross in all.”

“And you know who they all belong to,” Hermione said, not at all sure she was going to like where this was going.

“No, most guys who agree to the reproductions are pretty secretive about it. Some are pretty flamboyant, the owner of the Gilded Smile tried to get us to market it under his name.”

“The Gilded Smile? That wouldn’t be who I think it is would it?”

“Yeah, it probably is. Five time winner of Witch Weekly’s Sexiest Smile.” Most of the other girls laughed.

“That is just… eww.” Hermione felt very self-conscious because she didn’t think it was all that funny. She wanted to get Alicia back on track despite her trepidation about what she was sure she was going to learn. “So what’s Ron’s nickname?” She was surprised that Ron would agree to let his be reproduced, but she would have to ask him about that later.

Alicia leaned forward and placed her hand on Hermione’s knee. “Hermione, we don’t do this to be cruel, we don’t do it as a joke. This is a business, and we always ask permission first. Did Ron know it was us behind it? No, I’m fairly sure he didn’t. But to answer your question, his nickname is ‘Little Brother’. The reason he is top on my list, is because ‘The Little Brother’ is the perfect size and the perfect shape for me.”

Hermione was so upset that she couldn’t even respond. She had always thought that Ron and all his treasures were hers, and hers alone. To find out that this had happened turned all that upside down. She jumped when Angelina touched her shoulder.

“Hermione,” she said quietly, “why don’t you come with me, I want to show you something.” Hermione got up and followed her silently from the room. As they climbed the stairs to the living quarters conversation began again in the room downstairs, but Hermione paid no attention to it. Once they were ensconced in one of the bedrooms, she assumed Fred and Angelina’s, the door was closed and she was directed to a small seating area. “Would you like some tea while we talk?”

She took a deep breath and checked her anger, yelling at Angelina wouldn’t change anything, and it wouldn’t help her sort out her misgivings. “It was always abstract until now,” Hermione said as she flopped into the chair and rested her forehead against her hands.

Angelina pulled a chair around and sat down opposite her. “What do you mean, dear?” she asked as she took Hermione’s hands in her own.

She swallowed and choked back the tears of frustration. “It was always abstract that Ron would be sleeping with other girls. It was always just him getting his jollies. I never thought that another girl would be attracted to him.”

“Okay,” Angelina said slowly, as though to point out the fallacy of the argument. “So it was okay for you to want to sleep with his brothers, but not okay for his sisters-in-law to want to sleep with him.”

“Dammit Angie, don’t confuse me with the facts.” Hermione looked up to see her sister watching her, a slight smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.

“You know why I love you so much?”

“Why?”

“Because you are so easy to reason with.”

“Thanks, but I don’t think that’s going to help here. All these years with Ron have made me very emotional where he is concerned.” She pushed herself up out of the chair and began to pace the room, much like she did when she was in court. As she did her mind began to settle, her thoughts organized themselves and the jealous insanity that had wanted to strangle Alicia subsided to a small voice in the back of her mind. “I think that I would have been okay if she had just said that she wanted to sleep with him because he was tall or because she thought he was cute or because he has a tight butt. At that point she’s just curious about what he’d be like in bed. I’ve reconciled myself with that. It’s part of how I convinced Ron that this would be okay, it’s just curiosity and fun.”

“But with Alicia, it’s different.”

“Yeah. I mean, she’s been playing with my husband’s… bits for years. How long has she secretly wanted to bed him? Dammit, he’s my husband.” She stopped and took a deep breath.

“And when this weekend is over, he’ll still be your husband. Alicia will still be George’s wife. The only thing that will have changed is that she’ll probably discover he doesn’t live up to her fantasies.”

“That I wouldn’t be so sure of,” Hermione said with a smile.

“Really?”

“Me and my big mouth.”

Angelina laughed. “Tell me, what is it that has you upset about this? Why is Alicia a concern and not,” she waved her hand around, “me. After all, I’m probably going to try and bed him at some point this weekend. He and Harry will be the only two guys here I’ve never slept with. Does it bother you that I intend to have sex with Ron?”

Hermione stopped pacing and gave Angelina a long look. “No. That doesn’t bother me. To you, he’s just another notch in your bedpost. Alicia though, Alicia’s been playing with his bits for years, fantasizing about him, satisfying herself with him when he’s mine. If I choose to share him now, that’s different. He and I have discussed it; it’s something we’re doing together. You waited your turn. You weren’t lusting after him when he wasn’t yours to lust after.”

Angelina closed her eyes and nodded. Hermione ran back through her arguments in her mind and realized the hole in her defense and wondered if Angelina would use it. She also realized that she couldn’t close it. If she did, it would be an argument without factual or evidentiary basis, it would be entirely emotional, fueled by jealousy over something that would never have upset her if she hadn’t known it.

“Tell me,” Angelina said, as she leaned back in her chair. “Has Alicia ever behaved inappropriately towards Ron?”

Hermione cursed herself, Angelina had blown the hole wide open.

“All the time that we spend together as a family, the times when we’ve gotten together in small groups, even when we’ve been to parties where things have been pretty fast and loose, has Alicia ever said or done anything suggestive to or with Ron?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Has he ever mentioned her doing anything inappropriate?”

“No, but,” she stopped herself before she said that he would not. Ron was honest to a fault sometimes. He shared everything with her, even things she kind of wished he wouldn’t. He had never shown any preference for Alicia over any of the others, nor any disinclination to be around her. If she had made a pass at him, he would behave differently around her, it’s just the way he was. He wore his heart on his sleeve. Her shoulders slumped and she flopped down into the chair. “God, I hate it when I do that.”

“What’s that, dear?”

“Make an ass of myself. I mean, I’m usually pretty in control and have a good handle on things. When it comes to Ron though, sometimes my emotions run away with me. I blame Ron for it. I wasn’t like this before I married him.” She took a deep breath.

“That’s not all bad. If he makes you a little crazy or drives you to distraction, that’s kind of what he’s supposed to do. They all do it, the whole lot of them. They’re all goofy and honest to a fault, none of them ever think before they act, and they’re loyal to the point of stupidity. It’s not just the men either, Ginny’s just like them.”

“Maybe that’s why we love them all so much.”

“Maybe so.”

Hermione stood up and walked over to Angelina. “Thank you. I’m sorry I made an ass of myself. I’m just so… out of my depth here. I feel like I’m floundering all over the place. I’m trying to deal with the conflict of sexual experimentation and my strict Anglican upbringing, then you add in how possessive I get of Ron and I’m just going in all these different directions. I mean, I really want to do this, but I feel so guilty about it.”

Angelina stood and gave her a hug. “I’m glad I could help. You should spend some time with Alicia. She went through that several years ago, just before she and George got married. She had this huge crisis of faith after spending Christmas with her parents. It took her a couple of months to work it out.” They separated and Angelina held her at arms distance and closely examined her face. “Are you sure you’re ready to do this?”

“Yeah, I think so. I just need to remind myself that no one is after my husband; they just want to have sex with him, and I can’t say as I blame them for that.”

Angelina laughed at that. “No, you can’t blame them for that. He is a fine specimen of manhood.”

“You know what the worst thing is about the dildo thing is? I can’t even tell him. He’ll think it’s funny that women all over England get off on his… parts.”

“I’ll go you one better,” Angie said with a smirk. “He’s most popular with lesbians.”

“Oh my God. He would be impossible if he found that out. Is he the only one of the brothers?”

“No, not by a long shot. Come with me and I’ll show you.” She followed her older sister into a room that looked like it belonged to George and Alicia. “Over here,” Angie called from a closet.

“Should we be doing this? Won’t Alicia get mad?”

“Nah, we go into each other’s closets all the time. We’ve actually talked about building a common boudoir. Here it is.” Hermione watched as Angelina pulled aside a curtain to reveal a shelf stacked full of various sex toys and accoutrements. She reached up and pulled down six boxes. “These are the brothers: Little Brother, The Dragon Tamer, The Treasure Hunter, Thing 1, and Thing 2.”

“Are those the actual sizes?”

“You tell me,” Angelina said as she opened a box and handed over The Little Brother.

“It is,” she said with a nod. It was a strange thing to be standing in her sister’s closet with one of her other sisters fondling a replica of her husband’s cock. She chuckled at the surrealness of the situation and handed it back. Her curiosity got the better of her as they were being put away. “Can I see Bill’s?”

“The Treasure Hunter,” she said as passed it over. “Almost exactly the same as Ron, with one exception.”

Hermione opened the box and slid it out into her hand. The weight and size were familiar, but it curved up toward the tip. “Oh,” she ran her finger along the curve, “is that why they call it the Treasure Hunter?”

“It is indeed.” She took it back and handed over a gold colored box. “This is why we were laughing about Lockhart’s.”

She opened the box and began to laugh herself. She picked it up and examined it, and laughed even harder. By the time she got it back in the box and handed it back she had to sit down she was laughing so hard. “I, I can’t believe it,” she said between labored breaths. “I think Ron’s middle finger is that big.”

“I know, that’s why we had to make it a vibrator. It was useless as anything else.” The girls enjoyed a good laugh together, then put the stuff away. “Are you okay with everything?” Angelina asked as she pulled Hermione to her feet.

“I think so. Thanks for understanding. I still stand by my assertion that you should have gone into counseling. With your knowledge and insight, you could probably make good money as a sex therapist.”

“Not as good as I make as part owner in WWW and Ferret, though; and I don’t have to listen to people whine all day.”

“There is that.” Hermione followed her down the stairs to where the other girls were laughing and teasing each other. Within a few minutes she had fallen in with them, and was freely sharing some of the most intimate details of her love life as she drank wine and drew closer to her sisters.

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