FIC: "A New Spell," Bill/Fleur, R
May. 1st, 2006 04:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stephanometraSuper-bonus two-fics-in-one-day post!
Title: A New Spell (formerly known as "Peeking," but that title sucks even more than my titles usually suck so we're changing it)
Pairing: Bill/Fleur, Ron/Hermione
Rating: R
Words: 1700 or so
Warnings: Voyeurism. Moderate BDSM, I suppose.
Author's Note: HOLY CANON PAIRINGS, BATMAN! This story is possibly the filthiest thing I've written, just so y'all know. It was for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
hp_clover for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
silvernatasha, and I've no idea why I haven't posted it here yet since reveals on that were like three weeks ago. Thanks to absinthe_lust for the beta.
-
"It's half one, Hermione. Don't you think it's time for bed?" Ron asked, yawning and leaning back in his chair.
Hermione huffed irritably without looking away from the immense tome on Dark artefacts open in front of her. "I need to finish this chapter."
"Harry went up an hour ago!"
"I'm well aware of that, thank you," she said, turning the page. "No one is making you stay, Ron."
"I don't want to go without you."
"Noble of you, but rather ridiculous if all you are going to do is whinge at me about the time."
He looked exasperated. "I thought we could…y'know."
"Oh." Hermione's cheeks pinked a little, but she still didn't look up. "You might have asked, you know."
"Well?"
She turned another page. "I still need to finish this chapter."
Ron sighed. "Fine," he said, pushing back his chair and standing up. He pressed a kiss to her temple, and she leaned into the touch, smiling.
"Ron?"
"Yeah?"
"Fred and George cleaned out their room, didn't they?"
"'Course they did."
"Is anyone sleeping there now?"
"Don't think so."
"Perhaps you should go make sure."
"Whatever for?"
"Oh, for heaven's sake. I'll meet you there when I'm done, alright?"
Comprehension dawned; he grinned and headed for the stairs, and she turned her full attention back towards the book.
As it happened, there were only six more pages in the chapter. Hermione marked her place with the tattered velvet ribbon bound into the spine and sat back in her chair, rubbing her eyes.
She picked up her wand, lovingly glancing around the large room crammed full of books. She missed the Burrow – they all did, really – but after a Death Eater attack had blown a hole in the old house's façade, moving the lot of them to twelve Grimmauld Place under a renewed Fidelius (Moody had insisted on being Secret-Keeper) had been the wisest course of action.
And living at Grimmauld Place did have its perks, most notably use of the enormous Dark Arts library before her.
Hermione extinguished the lights with a wave of her wand and left the room, tiptoeing past Mrs. Black's portrait on her way up the stairs. The old harridan was much more subdued without Sirius around to abuse, but there was no telling if and when she'd start up again.
She continued to climb quietly until she'd passed the first floor landing, with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's bedroom closest to the steps and the room she shared with Ginny right beyond it. Ron's parents had been on the third floor originally, but they had apparently decided that Ginny needed a bit more supervision with Harry in the house (which was, of course, completely batty, as there were four vacant, fully furnished bedrooms on the top two floors, and only one of them was covered in hippogriff shite).
After she passed the first floor, she didn't feel the need to be so quiet. Harry was long since asleep, and Professor Lupin and Tonks had thoroughly soundproofed their room inside and out just before the full in July following an extremely awkward conversation with Mrs. Weasley over breakfast.
Nobody knew where Moody slept. Hermione supposed that if he couldn't be bothered to tell them where he was sleeping, she oughtn't to be bothered about waking him up.
The third floor housed Bill and Fleur, who had moved in immediately following their honeymoon at Mrs. Weasley's loud insistence, and the twins' abandoned suite; Ron's assurances notwithstanding, she had no intention of closely examining anything that might be left in that particular room.
The light in Bill and Fleur's room was on, bleeding faintly into the corridor from under the heavy mahogany door, and as Hermione passed by, she heard a muffled scream from inside.
Startled, she snapped her head around to stare at the closed door, not entirely certain that the sound had been real. "Prolataurem," she whispered, pressing her ear to the door, and she heard it again: an unmistakable alto scream, much louder this time because of the charm enhancing her hearing.
Hermione was hardly an innocent – she knew exactly what Bill and Fleur were probably up to behind closed doors in the middle of the night, and accordingly some noise was to be expected – but what was coming from behind that door sounded anything but pleasured to her ear, and she wouldn't have picked Fleur for a screamer anyhow. Fleur was too collected, too cool; she had barely even raised her voice at Mrs. Weasley in June – oh.
Bloody hell.
She counted days in her head, realizing that the full moon was only two days away. What if the moon were affecting Bill, making him violent? And he was taking it out on Fleur? Hermione backed away from the door, cancelling the Ear-Enhancer spell with a nonverbal finite and biting her bottom lip thoughtfully. Fleur could probably hold her own, she reasoned, but Hermione could not imagine Fleur screaming unless she were unable to defend herself for one reason or another.
Such as her husband physically attacking her in pseudolycanthropic rage.
Mind made up, Hermione knelt in front of the stretch of wall to the right of the door, drawing her wand and concentrating. "Fenestra univia," she said, crossing her fingers in hopes the incantation would work.
To her delight, a small, square window appeared in front of her, completely transparent except for the faint pattern of the room's ugly wallpaper overlaid on the equally hideous design covering the corridor's walls. She touched it tentatively, feeling the hard wall under her fingers. "Extraordinary," she said softly, pleased and distracted by her success.
Then she heard another faint scream, and she suddenly remembered why she'd thought up the spell in the first place. Hermione pressed her nose to the small portal, peering into the room and gasping when she saw Fleur naked and facing away from the door, hands bound, raised over her fair head, and secured to one of the massive bedposts. Fleur's wand was nowhere in sight, and neither was Bill.
Hermione tapped the window with her wand and murmured, "Extende." The window quadrupled in size. The right side was partially covered up by some unknown piece of furniture, but the larger portal now showed a shirtless Bill, dark pink scars standing out in livid detail against his freckled white skin, who stood to Fleur's side looking contemplative. Fleur's arse, Hermione saw, was crisscrossed with red welts, probably from the supple leather belt dangling from Bill's hand.
He said something, too softly for Hermione to hear through the wall (her one-way window spell did not, apparently, make for easier eavesdropping), and Fleur threw her head back, making her silvery hair ripple down her back. He reached out and caressed the marks he had (presumably) left on his wife's arse, then reared back and lashed Fleur's upper thigh with the belt.
Hermione, entranced, watched the angry red mark appear in its wake. Fleur just screamed.
Bill spoke again, and Hermione hesitated for a slight moment before casting the Ear-Enhancing charm again. It felt like a huge invasion of Bill and Fleur's privacy, but Hermione had to be sure that he wasn't hurting Fleur. What he was doing may have looked like conventional sex play, albeit a little rough, but Hermione had to be sure.
"…know what I want, you little slut. I won't stop until you give it to me." The belt cut into Fleur's skin again.
"Non!" Fleur cried, the single syllable turning into yet another scream as Bill landed another blow on her upper thigh.
Hermione could not look away from the delicate tracery of marks that marred Fleur's perfect skin, and apparently neither could Bill, who ran his hand over the welts again and smiled at Fleur's gasp of pain.
"Beg me for it, Fleur," he said, his voice low and seductive, and Hermione gasped, sliding a hand down the front of her robes and parting her thighs.
Fleur cursed violently in French and convulsed under Bill's touch. Hermione rolled her hips, pressing her clothed cunt against her hand and whimpering softly.
"I know you want it, sweetheart." He slipped his hand between Fleur's legs, sliding two fingers into her, twisting them to hear her moan. "But you've got to ask."
Fleur turned her head and whispered something unintelligible. The sight of Fleur's tear-streaked face was almost unbearably erotic, and Hermione bit her lip against a groan and moved faster against her hand.
"What was that? Speak up, Fleur."
Fleur whispered marginally louder.
"You want me to fuck you?" He removed his fingers from Fleur's cunt, trailing wetness across her arse. Hermione moaned and rubbed herself harder.
"Please," Fleur said, still quiet.
"You want me to fuck your pretty little cunt, don't you? You want my cock?"
"Oui! Fuck me, Bill, sil'vous plait!" Fleur wailed, spreading her legs a little bit further.
"That's my girl." Bill quickly unbuttoned his trousers and shoved them down his hips before moulding himself against Fleur's back and sliding into her in one smooth thrust. They both cried out as he fucked her against the bedpost, and Hermione moaned again, on the brink of orgasm, just a little bit more –
"Hermione?" Ron's voice called from the next door down, sounding a little worried.
God. "I'm here, Ron." Frantically, Hermione grabbed her wand and cancelled the spells as the doorknob turned, scrambling to her feet just as Ron's head poked out into the hallway.
"Took you long –" and she cut off his slightly petulant whinging by throwing herself at him, moaning as she pushed him into the room and kicked the door shut behind her.
"Fuck me," she said against his lips, fumbling with the fastenings of his trousers.
Ron obviously had no idea what had hit him as she backed him onto the nearest bed. "Bloody hell, what was in that book? Did you find – ah! – a new spell or some-something?" he said as she nipped at his earlobe.
She paused. "You could say that, yes."
They didn't talk much after that.
-
Feedback appreciated, as always.
Title: A New Spell (formerly known as "Peeking," but that title sucks even more than my titles usually suck so we're changing it)
Pairing: Bill/Fleur, Ron/Hermione
Rating: R
Words: 1700 or so
Warnings: Voyeurism. Moderate BDSM, I suppose.
Author's Note: HOLY CANON PAIRINGS, BATMAN! This story is possibly the filthiest thing I've written, just so y'all know. It was for
hp_clover for silvernatasha, and I've no idea why I haven't posted it here yet since reveals on that were like three weeks ago. Thanks to absinthe_lust for the beta."It's half one, Hermione. Don't you think it's time for bed?" Ron asked, yawning and leaning back in his chair.
Hermione huffed irritably without looking away from the immense tome on Dark artefacts open in front of her. "I need to finish this chapter."
"Harry went up an hour ago!"
"I'm well aware of that, thank you," she said, turning the page. "No one is making you stay, Ron."
"I don't want to go without you."
"Noble of you, but rather ridiculous if all you are going to do is whinge at me about the time."
He looked exasperated. "I thought we could…y'know."
"Oh." Hermione's cheeks pinked a little, but she still didn't look up. "You might have asked, you know."
"Well?"
She turned another page. "I still need to finish this chapter."
Ron sighed. "Fine," he said, pushing back his chair and standing up. He pressed a kiss to her temple, and she leaned into the touch, smiling.
"Ron?"
"Yeah?"
"Fred and George cleaned out their room, didn't they?"
"'Course they did."
"Is anyone sleeping there now?"
"Don't think so."
"Perhaps you should go make sure."
"Whatever for?"
"Oh, for heaven's sake. I'll meet you there when I'm done, alright?"
Comprehension dawned; he grinned and headed for the stairs, and she turned her full attention back towards the book.
As it happened, there were only six more pages in the chapter. Hermione marked her place with the tattered velvet ribbon bound into the spine and sat back in her chair, rubbing her eyes.
She picked up her wand, lovingly glancing around the large room crammed full of books. She missed the Burrow – they all did, really – but after a Death Eater attack had blown a hole in the old house's façade, moving the lot of them to twelve Grimmauld Place under a renewed Fidelius (Moody had insisted on being Secret-Keeper) had been the wisest course of action.
And living at Grimmauld Place did have its perks, most notably use of the enormous Dark Arts library before her.
Hermione extinguished the lights with a wave of her wand and left the room, tiptoeing past Mrs. Black's portrait on her way up the stairs. The old harridan was much more subdued without Sirius around to abuse, but there was no telling if and when she'd start up again.
She continued to climb quietly until she'd passed the first floor landing, with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's bedroom closest to the steps and the room she shared with Ginny right beyond it. Ron's parents had been on the third floor originally, but they had apparently decided that Ginny needed a bit more supervision with Harry in the house (which was, of course, completely batty, as there were four vacant, fully furnished bedrooms on the top two floors, and only one of them was covered in hippogriff shite).
After she passed the first floor, she didn't feel the need to be so quiet. Harry was long since asleep, and Professor Lupin and Tonks had thoroughly soundproofed their room inside and out just before the full in July following an extremely awkward conversation with Mrs. Weasley over breakfast.
Nobody knew where Moody slept. Hermione supposed that if he couldn't be bothered to tell them where he was sleeping, she oughtn't to be bothered about waking him up.
The third floor housed Bill and Fleur, who had moved in immediately following their honeymoon at Mrs. Weasley's loud insistence, and the twins' abandoned suite; Ron's assurances notwithstanding, she had no intention of closely examining anything that might be left in that particular room.
The light in Bill and Fleur's room was on, bleeding faintly into the corridor from under the heavy mahogany door, and as Hermione passed by, she heard a muffled scream from inside.
Startled, she snapped her head around to stare at the closed door, not entirely certain that the sound had been real. "Prolataurem," she whispered, pressing her ear to the door, and she heard it again: an unmistakable alto scream, much louder this time because of the charm enhancing her hearing.
Hermione was hardly an innocent – she knew exactly what Bill and Fleur were probably up to behind closed doors in the middle of the night, and accordingly some noise was to be expected – but what was coming from behind that door sounded anything but pleasured to her ear, and she wouldn't have picked Fleur for a screamer anyhow. Fleur was too collected, too cool; she had barely even raised her voice at Mrs. Weasley in June – oh.
Bloody hell.
She counted days in her head, realizing that the full moon was only two days away. What if the moon were affecting Bill, making him violent? And he was taking it out on Fleur? Hermione backed away from the door, cancelling the Ear-Enhancer spell with a nonverbal finite and biting her bottom lip thoughtfully. Fleur could probably hold her own, she reasoned, but Hermione could not imagine Fleur screaming unless she were unable to defend herself for one reason or another.
Such as her husband physically attacking her in pseudolycanthropic rage.
Mind made up, Hermione knelt in front of the stretch of wall to the right of the door, drawing her wand and concentrating. "Fenestra univia," she said, crossing her fingers in hopes the incantation would work.
To her delight, a small, square window appeared in front of her, completely transparent except for the faint pattern of the room's ugly wallpaper overlaid on the equally hideous design covering the corridor's walls. She touched it tentatively, feeling the hard wall under her fingers. "Extraordinary," she said softly, pleased and distracted by her success.
Then she heard another faint scream, and she suddenly remembered why she'd thought up the spell in the first place. Hermione pressed her nose to the small portal, peering into the room and gasping when she saw Fleur naked and facing away from the door, hands bound, raised over her fair head, and secured to one of the massive bedposts. Fleur's wand was nowhere in sight, and neither was Bill.
Hermione tapped the window with her wand and murmured, "Extende." The window quadrupled in size. The right side was partially covered up by some unknown piece of furniture, but the larger portal now showed a shirtless Bill, dark pink scars standing out in livid detail against his freckled white skin, who stood to Fleur's side looking contemplative. Fleur's arse, Hermione saw, was crisscrossed with red welts, probably from the supple leather belt dangling from Bill's hand.
He said something, too softly for Hermione to hear through the wall (her one-way window spell did not, apparently, make for easier eavesdropping), and Fleur threw her head back, making her silvery hair ripple down her back. He reached out and caressed the marks he had (presumably) left on his wife's arse, then reared back and lashed Fleur's upper thigh with the belt.
Hermione, entranced, watched the angry red mark appear in its wake. Fleur just screamed.
Bill spoke again, and Hermione hesitated for a slight moment before casting the Ear-Enhancing charm again. It felt like a huge invasion of Bill and Fleur's privacy, but Hermione had to be sure that he wasn't hurting Fleur. What he was doing may have looked like conventional sex play, albeit a little rough, but Hermione had to be sure.
"…know what I want, you little slut. I won't stop until you give it to me." The belt cut into Fleur's skin again.
"Non!" Fleur cried, the single syllable turning into yet another scream as Bill landed another blow on her upper thigh.
Hermione could not look away from the delicate tracery of marks that marred Fleur's perfect skin, and apparently neither could Bill, who ran his hand over the welts again and smiled at Fleur's gasp of pain.
"Beg me for it, Fleur," he said, his voice low and seductive, and Hermione gasped, sliding a hand down the front of her robes and parting her thighs.
Fleur cursed violently in French and convulsed under Bill's touch. Hermione rolled her hips, pressing her clothed cunt against her hand and whimpering softly.
"I know you want it, sweetheart." He slipped his hand between Fleur's legs, sliding two fingers into her, twisting them to hear her moan. "But you've got to ask."
Fleur turned her head and whispered something unintelligible. The sight of Fleur's tear-streaked face was almost unbearably erotic, and Hermione bit her lip against a groan and moved faster against her hand.
"What was that? Speak up, Fleur."
Fleur whispered marginally louder.
"You want me to fuck you?" He removed his fingers from Fleur's cunt, trailing wetness across her arse. Hermione moaned and rubbed herself harder.
"Please," Fleur said, still quiet.
"You want me to fuck your pretty little cunt, don't you? You want my cock?"
"Oui! Fuck me, Bill, sil'vous plait!" Fleur wailed, spreading her legs a little bit further.
"That's my girl." Bill quickly unbuttoned his trousers and shoved them down his hips before moulding himself against Fleur's back and sliding into her in one smooth thrust. They both cried out as he fucked her against the bedpost, and Hermione moaned again, on the brink of orgasm, just a little bit more –
"Hermione?" Ron's voice called from the next door down, sounding a little worried.
God. "I'm here, Ron." Frantically, Hermione grabbed her wand and cancelled the spells as the doorknob turned, scrambling to her feet just as Ron's head poked out into the hallway.
"Took you long –" and she cut off his slightly petulant whinging by throwing herself at him, moaning as she pushed him into the room and kicked the door shut behind her.
"Fuck me," she said against his lips, fumbling with the fastenings of his trousers.
Ron obviously had no idea what had hit him as she backed him onto the nearest bed. "Bloody hell, what was in that book? Did you find – ah! – a new spell or some-something?" he said as she nipped at his earlobe.
She paused. "You could say that, yes."
They didn't talk much after that.
