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Title: Ron's Girl
Author: iulia_linnea
Pairings: Hermione/George, Luna/Fred
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2347
Summary: Hermione is urged by Luna to ask at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes for some special service, and George provides it—with the help of his twin and Fred's girlfriend.
Disclaimer: This piece is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling; various publishers, including, but not limited to: Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books; and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author's Note: Written for xylodemon's I Didn't Get To Go To TWH Ficlet-a-thon for tyskn.

"But Hermione, you're Ron's girl," Fred protested, as George sat in shocked silence in the aftermath of the witch's announcement.

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are," Fred pressed. "You're just angry at him for taking up with Lavender Brown. You can't mean it, not really."

George, who had been the one to unlock the door for Hermione when he discovered her peering through the rain and into their front window, continued to sit and gape at her sodden, frizzy hair, following the path of the droplets that dripped onto her neck and disappeared into her scandalously low-buttoned blouse. She must be cold.

"Really, Fred! I know my own mind—and Ron certainly seemed to understand his when I caught him shagging Lavender in the Quidditch equipment shed!"

"He did what?" George asked, at the same time Fred exclaimed, "Good for—oh. Oh, sorry."

Hermione uttered a snort of derision and shook her head angrily, which caused both wizards to feel a sudden urge to adjust themselves as the soaked blouse Hermione was wearing pulled even more tightly against her jiggling breasts.

Lace, Fred thought.

"Well, the thing is, he is our brother. We can't—"

"Why not?" Hermione demanded, interrupting Fred. "Luna tells me you like virgins. She even said something ridiculous about your both deflowering her at the same time, which I know is preposterous, but," she stopped, flushing.

"It's not," George said faintly.

"What's not?"

"It's not preposterous. Fred and I have always been very flexible."

Fred glanced at his brother, who had never once removed his eyes from Hermione's body, and smirked at how red in the face he was. He wants her. He has for ages. He did not find the Sixth Year unappealing, himself. But she's Ron's girl.

George cleared his throat. "Does Ron know you saw him?" he asked hoarsely.

Hermione's mouth set in a firm line. "Unlike some people, I am discreet."

"I'll be you even set a locking charm," George replied, admiration plain in his voice.

She's nothing like Luna, Fred thought, calculating, at his cock's behest, the odds of his own ability to be circumspect. She'll never be able to just shag. It's not going to

"Working it out are you, brother?" George whispered, leaning forward to press a thick tangle of Hermione's disheveled hair behind her right ear.

"George, I don't think—"

"So why start now?" the other wizard asked, following his hand and arm with his body until he had moved from his chair in front of their sitting room hearth to the sofa upon which Hermione was sitting.

She blushed, but did not scoot over, and leaned into George's hand, which was caressing her face.

To the great consternation of his cock, Fred replied, "Because Luna says she only likes to share when she's present to enjoy it."

His words caused a rush of wetness to slick Hermione's knickers, and before she could stop herself, she said, "Then let's get her."

"What?" both Weasleys asked.

"Let's g—get her," Hermione repeated, only this time hesitantly because she was worried that she had been too bold. But Luna's the one who told me to come here.

"Um, we won't have to. Luna's sneaking out to see me tonight," Fred told them, the color deepening in his own cheeks.

"And you were going to tell me this, when?"

"Don't be jealous, George. I'll keep you enter—entertained," Hermione said with a determination she did not quite feel, as she reached for his hand and drew one of his fingers into her mouth to suck upon it.

George gasped, Fred chuckled, and Hermione thought, I guess that works on all boys.

She had lately seen Lavender Brown use the trick.

"I'm so hard for you, baby," George rasped, taking Hermione's free hand and placing it on the bulge in his trousers. "Feel me. Feel what you're doing to me."

"Wouldn't that be easier for her to do if you were naked?"

"Luna!"

"Oh, good. You did memorize my name that last time," the witch said, throwing off her cloak and moving to sit on Fred's lap. "You should be naked, too," she told him, wriggling her arse a bit.

"Now here's a bit of coziness I never would have expected," said Fred.

"Hermione needs coziness, you know. Ron's been dreadfully rude to her, what with not locking doors and drowning in his hormones. Hermione's jealous, and very horny—is that the word?" Luna asked, peering down at Fred through the curtain of her hair. "I've never really understood why—mmph!"

Fred stopped Luna's mouth by capturing it with his own, oblivious to the amused, if hesitant, smiles of George and Hermione.

"Well," Hermione whispered into George's ear, "whose girl am I right now?"

Mine, George thought, but he said, "You're here because of Ron, so I'd say his—but," he continued, snaking an arm around the witch's waist before she could push him away, "what kind of brother would I be if I didn't keep Ron's girlfriend entertained?"

"It's only right, isn't it?"

"Of course it is, Hermione. You're absolutely right—you shouldn't be behind on a subject with which 'Ron-Ron' is increasingly familiar."

"I'd've studied more if I'd known it was that important," Fred said, breaking his kiss with Luna. "Come on, you. Let's leave these two alone."

"But I don't think Hermione wants us to do that," Luna replied, drawing her wand and transfiguring the sofa into a large bed.

Hermione and George, wrapped around each other in a feverish kiss, did not appear to notice.

"Neat trick," Fred said, drawing his own wand. "Watch mine."

With a flick of his wrist, Fred had the four of them nude.

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Don't get shy on us now," George chided her.

"I'm not. I just—"

Luna tumbled onto the bed behind Hermione and slid her lithe form against the other witch's back, reaching up to run her fingers through Hermione's hair and draw her head back. "You just need to let us teach you."

"Yes."

"Oh, I definitely would have studied more," Fred said, moving to kneel above Luna and Hermione as Luna's clever fingers worked Hermione's nipples. "George, someone's cunny needs—"

"Attention," he completed, laying himself out between the girls' bodies and stroking his fingers up Hermione's thighs to part them before darting a tongue out to tease her clit.

She gasped, and Luna swallowed it, her tongue exploring Hermione's mouth deeply, as Fred ran his hands over Luna's arse and dipped two fingers into the cleft of it.

He knew that if his girlfriend could speak, she would be nattering on about "spelunking," and it made him laugh.

"What?" Hermione demanded nervously, pulling away from Luna. "Am I not doing it correctly? None of the books said anything about going to bed with more than one person at a time!"

"Shhh," Luna soothed. "It's not about correctness."

Proper Miss Granger, George thought affectionately. "Let's see what your research has taught you," he suggested, smiling at Fred over the girls' bodies.

Fred winked and gently untangled Luna from Hermione's arms to pull her against himself. "Lay back. You're doing fine," he said, waiting for Hermione to obey. "Now then, George, I think, would like to know if you understand the principles—"

"Of your own pleasure," George finished, his eyes roaming freely over Hermione's flushed skin.

"Wh—what do you mean?"

"They want you to touch yourself," Luna told her.

"Here? In front of all of you?"

"You must know that Ron does it to himself," George replied, "and you wouldn't want him becoming more advanced, now would you?"

"No. I suppose not, but . . . ."

"Tweak your nipples, Hermione," Fred ordered.

"With your left hand," Luna added.

George grinned as she began to do just that, and told her, "And slide your other hand between your thighs and spread yourself for us."

A deep blush suffused Hermione's countenance as she slowly teased each of her nipples in turn, and more slowly, moved her right hand between her legs, shifting them apart slightly, while caressing her palm over her lips and back up to her clit in a furtive motion.

"Spread yourself wider. I want to see," said Luna, her voice a little breathless, for Fred had begun to suck on the delicate skin under her left ear.

George panted a bit, himself, as he lightly stroked his cock in time with the rhythm of Hermione's movements. "Yeah, like that," he said, as she began to whimper. "Now, give that sweet cunny of yours a finger. . . . Oh, yeah, just like that."

This isn't so difficult, Hermione thought, as, without being told, she slid another finger into her cunt. "Oh, I—I like—what is," she tried to say, but the rough pad of skin inside her wet channel was too distracting for words.

"You are advanced," Fred remarked, laying Luna down next to Hermione.

"Yes," George agreed, fisting himself faster. "That's your Grafenberg Spot."

"Read about it," Hermione half-gasped, pulling her knees up to her chest and trying to get a better angle. "Oh!"

Suddenly, George released himself and seized Hermione's arms, pinning them back above her head as he rolled on top of her and thrust his cock against her cunt. "Do you want some help with that, baby?"

"Yes!"

George took his hands away from Hermione's wrists, and she groaned in protest.

"Brother, if you'd allow me?" asked Fred, as he and Luna moved as one to the head of the bed, each of them taking one of Hermione's wrists to hold.

Luna leaned down to tease a path along the other witch's arm with her tongue, and Hermione bucked against George, who moaned.

"You're sure?" he asked, staring down into Hermione's eyes.

"Yes, damn it!"

Fred chuckled. Luna giggled, and George moved.

With great care, he positioned his prick between Hermione's engorged lips and drew himself up and down the crease they made for him, increasing the pressure bit by tantalizing bit that he applied to her clit with each pass.

"What—but I—"

"Ah, ah, ah," George choked out as Hermione began to struggle to get his cock inside of her. "You be patient. Fred, hold her more firmly. Luna—"

"I'll just get her legs," Luna interrupted, moving quickly to retrieve her wand and cast a puppet-string spell.

It caused her to be able to "pull" Hermione's leg's up almost over her head, which made her feel the friction of George's turgid, hot shaft more intensely.

"I can't—please! Oh, please fuck me, George!"

Hearing his name on Hermione's begging tongue was too much to bear. George left off his teasing and thrust once, all the way to his balls, inside the overwhelmingly tight, wet, grasping channel of Hermione's no longer virgin cunt.

"Fuck!"

"You are, brother," Fred breathed, his own prick so rigid he worried it might break.

Luna laid down her wand, pulled Fred's hands away from Hermione's wrists, and straddled her boyfriend, saying, "She doesn't need restraint anymore," before inching herself down upon the needful cock beneath her.

The rain beat down with a fearsome tempo on the roof above their heads, and the two couples matched it—Luna bouncing up and down rapidly on Fred's lap, Hermione writhing in tempo against George's thrusts. The air was heavy with the scent of sex and sweat, and all Hermione could think was, More, more, more!

A sensation was pooling in her belly, an inexorable pleasure that kept coiling, coiling, coiling—and then sprang forth to radiate through her body in waves. "OhfuckGodyes!" she cried, screaming her orgasm into the safety of George's mouth, who kissed her until she stopped shuddering, and then pounded himself into her until he was yelling his own release.

"Hermione, Hermione, Hermione!"

Luna and Fred were locked in a passionate kiss when Hermione and George, cuddling each other in their afterglow, became sensate enough to notice that the other couple had already come.

"They'll be like that for awhile," George whispered. "You all right?"

Hermione felt anything but foolish as she realized she could not stop grinning. "I feel fantastic."

"So you do," George replied, chuckling and nuzzling her neck. I knew you would, he thought wistfully, because he was certain he would never feel anyone as glorious as Hermione Granger again. Ron's girl.

As if she knew what he was thinking, Hermione said, "I'm yours tonight. I'll . . . I'll be yours forever, now, because of this."

"You don't have to say that."

"But it's true, George," Luna said in her matter-of-fact manner. "No one will ever be her First again. That's what you are."

"Shush, love," Fred told Luna gently.

"No, she doesn't have to shush. I knew when I agreed that—"

"George," Hermione said, only in that moment beginning to suspect the wizard's attraction to her as being something more than simple lust and feeling guilty, "I didn't mean to—"

"Pass with full marks? Because you certainly did," George told her, running his hands lightly up and down Hermione's torso in a tickling way to distract her. "If we rest up a bit, I think Fred and Luna and I might be able to demonstrate something more advanced—with you assisting, of course," he promised, leaning in to kiss the laughing Hermione quiet.

He knew that he would always have the memory of her first sensual moans, of the way her inner skin felt grasping his cock, of the way she struggled against him to take what he could give. He also knew that he would only be able to give it once. He and Fred had discussed this, and he knew what was right.

Hermione is Ron's girl.

"But for one night, she was yours," Fred said later, after the girls had left to sneak back into the castle. "Was it enough, brother?"

Fred did not wait for an answer; he merely locked the door to the shoppe because his brother, he knew, could not do it, and led George up the stairs to their rooms to feed him a dish of tea.

Being a good brother, of course, he was sure to spike it with something to help George out of his post-coital doldrums.