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Chapter Text

The Hogwarts library was empty and quiet, just the way Hermione liked it.  It had been a slow morning.  None of the students had come in since just after breakfast, when a group of Ravenclaw fourth years had grabbed a stack of books from the Herbology section and sequestered themselves over on the sofas beneath the balcony, reading quietly, making notes, and cursing under their breaths about a certain professor who seemed very keen on making their lives absolutely miserable. That was fine. It had been a long time since Hermione had been a student, but she understood.  Besides, Ravenclaw students were usually a lot easier to deal with than most of the other houses, even if they did shush each other rather loudly and leave books lying all over the place.

That was fine, too, Hermione supposed, because they were gone now, and it was quiet.

Finally.

Hermione gave a long sigh of contentment and leaned back over her personal copy of Using Your Wits and Your Charms: A Practical Guide for the Practiced Witch.  She was almost done with the third chapter when the library doors flew open, and in walked Sirius Black.

"Hermione! Just the person I wanted to see!"

"Oh, err, hello, Sirius," Hermione said, glancing up at him over the top of her book.

"Guess what?" he asked, strolling up to her desk with a big grin on his face, looking as pleased with himself as ever.

"Err . . . What?" Hermione asked, trying not to sound rude.  She liked Sirius, she really did, but she liked reading more, and she really wanted to finish her chapter.

"No, no. You're supposed to guess!"

Hermione took her eyes off the page in front of her and looked Sirius up and down.  "You . . . err . . . got another lip piercing?"

"What? Oh, no, no, I've had both of these for months now. Try again."

"You've finally come to your senses and given up on werewolves."

Sirius' smile widened. "You wish."

She did. God, she did, and she was pretty sure everyone else did, too.

"Come on, Hermione, guess again."

"Sirius, I really can't be arsed to do this right-"

"I'm going to give a lecture on soul bonds."

"Soul bonds?"

"Soul bonds."

Hermione lowered her book.  "Sirius, that's some pretty intense dark magic."

"I know. That's why I'm going to teach it. The students have to know about these things, Hermione."

She raised an eyebrow.  "Do you know anything about soul bonds?"

"I know they bind souls."

"Yes, well, there's quite a lot more to it than that."

"I figured. That's why I'm here. I need a book on them so I can educate myself. I thought you could point me in the right direction."

"The right direction would be the Restricted Section."

"I figured that as well. So, where's the key?"

"What? What key?"

"The key to the Restricted Section, obviously, or do you need me to write myself a permission note?"

"Sirius, I can't just send you off to the Restricted Section unsupervised."

Sirius grinned.  "Why not? Do you actually think I've never been in there unsupervised before?"

"I don't doubt it, but you're a teacher now, and I can't just-"

"That's why I came to see you. I'm trying to do this all proper like for once. Now, where's the key?"

"I'm not giving it to you."

"Then what am I supposed to-"

Hermione let out a long breath.

"If you wait here and be patient," she said, standing up and stretching a bit, "I'll go get a book on soul bonds for you. Just make sure you don't-"

Hermione jumped as a horrible crash came from somewhere up on the balcony, followed by a loud cackle of laughter.

"Goddamn it, Peeves!" she shouted, coming out from behind her desk and reaching into her robe for her wand, walking past Sirius without so much as a sideways glance. "I swear to all that is magical, if you've damaged the Borage collection again, I will curse you into the next century!"

"Now, now! Mind your temper, Hermione! Pince never yelled at me like that!"

Hermione seriously doubted that.

Peeves laughed again. "I haven't damaged anything that didn't deserve it!"

Hermione was already on the steps, taking them two and three at a time, when Peeves came soaring down out of nowhere, flying around and taunting her with the bells of his jester hat jingling wildly.

"Granger, Granger, and all of her anger went for a little stroll!"

"Peeves! I won't tell you again! Stay the hell away from the-"

"Fuming and frizzy and all in a tizzy, wish she'd been smashed by that troll!"

Hermione raised her wand as Peeves soared past her, but he was already gone, disappearing through the stairs and the floor beneath her, cackling all the while.

Hermione shoved her hair out of her face and climbed the rest of the steps, finding herself standing face to face with an overturned writing desk and a broken lamp.

Murder wasn't something she contemplated often. She wasn't even sure a poltergeist could be a victim of such a crime, but at this point she was more than willing to perform some experiments and find out.

Hermione picked up the lamp and hit the broken shards of it that covered the carpeted floor with a quick Reparo. When it was back to its pre-Peeves condition, she used a levitation charm to stand the desk upright, checking it thoroughly to make sure nothing had been broken. Thankfully, unlike her patience, it was all intact.

Unfortunately, it was then that she heard the gate to the Restricted Section creak open, swaying on its old hinges.

Hermione dashed back down the stairs, hair and robe flying. "Sirius! For fuck's sake, what did I tell you?!"

She was almost on the last step when it happened. 

Hermione gasped as a bright wave of electrified energy shot toward her, engulfing her in a thunderous roar and knocking her back on the staircase. There was a moment when she couldn't see; when her wand was blown clear out of her hand and she was falling, rolling and sliding down the stairs.

When it was all over, she was on the floor, lying in an awkward heap with her ears ringing.

"Heerr . . . my . . . neee?"

The voice she heard was muffled, reaching her through her disorientation and the thick wad of cotton that seemed to have been crammed into her ears.

"Hermione?!"

" . . . Sir . . . Sirius?"

Hermione looked up. She was so confused. 

She got to her feet slowly, stumbling back toward her desk, remembering suddenly that Sirius was there and that the bloody daft bloody idiot had gone into the Restricted Section.

"Hermione?! Hermione?! Where are you?!"

"I'm coming!"

She swore again, holding onto a book trolley for support. Goddamn it. She could see the Restricted Section gate now, blown off its hinges and lying there on the floor, with her wand right next to it somehow, like they were the best of friends.

"Hermione! Come quick! Something's happened!"

"Yeah?! No shit!"

"Where are you?"

"I'm coming! I'm coming! Hang on!"

There was still smoke in the air. A whole stack of books on her desk had been knocked to the floor. One of them was on fire.

She grabbed her wand and put out the blaze, swearing all the more. When the flames were gone, she headed for the Restricted Section, clutching her wand and clenching her jaw.

"Sirius?! What the hell did you do?!" she yelled, stepping in through the opening where the gate had been hanging not fifty seconds ago and gaping at what she saw.

Sirius was on the floor. So was most of the Restricted Section. Nearly all of the books had been blown clear off their shelves. Some of the shelves themselves had been blown apart.

"Sirius! What the hell did you do?!" Hermione repeated.

Sirius was still on the floor, sitting there against the bottom of one of the intact bookcases with his hair a mess and smoke coming from his robes.

"Nothing! I swear! All I did was reach for a book!"

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Which book?"

Sirius pointed to the end of the row, where a single book hung, glowing bright red and dangling from the chain that secured it to its shelf. "That one!"

"Oh, God."

"What?"

Hermione stepped forward cautiously with her wand raised, giving the book a wide berth. "Sirius . . . Do you know what that is?"

" . . . A book on soul bonds?"

Hermione kept her wand raised as the book swung back and forth, its short chain creaking as it moved. "Not just any book on soul bonds. This is . . . Sirius, this is one of the most important books on soul bonds. I'm pretty sure souls are bound to this book."

"Ah. That explains the screaming."

"The what?"

"The screaming! You didn't hear it?!"

"No! Jesus Christ, there was screaming?"

"There was screaming! Though it could have just been me . . . "

Hermione walked closer to the book, keeping her wand held high. She could see some of its pages now. There sure were a lot of very interesting diagrams. Whoever had illustrated the book clearly hadn't been very familiar with clothes. She'd never seen nipples that hard and erect before.

Hermione took a step away from the book, and looked back at Sirius. "You alright?"

"Sure, yeah. Never felt better. Great way to spend an afternoon."

Hermione reached out a hand and leaned down to help him up. "I did tell you I didn't want you in here unsupervised."

"Yes, yes, well, it's far too late for that now isn't- Oh! Merlin's ball sack! What is that?!" Sirius asked, getting to his feet and backing away from her.

"What's what?"

"That thing on your neck! How long have you had that rash?"

"What rash?!"

"The one all over your throat!" 

Hermione turned around fast, facing the nearest intact empty shelf and casting a reflection charm.

Sirius was right. There was a bright red mark of some kind, covering her throat and spreading down her neck.

Hermione stared at herself in horror.

"Did you really not notice it?" Sirius asked, coming up behind her.

"No! Oh, God, I must have- Wait! Oh, bloody fuck! You've got it, too!"

"What?!"

Sirius scampered closer to her reflective shelf, tripping over some of the books that were still scattered on the floor.

"Bloody fuck," he said, pulling the collar of his robe back and staring at himself with a look of horror, "what is this?!"

"I don't think it's a rash," Hermione said, looking back at the dangling book.

She walked toward it slowly with her wand at the ready, using a spell to bring it level and turn the pages.

"Oh, fuck," she said, after a minute, "I think we've been cursed."

"Cursed?"

"Yes," Hermione said, reading a bit more, "yes, definitely cursed."

"Cursed, cursed?"

"Is there another type, oh wise teacher of defending against them?"

"Well, no, but I just don't understand . . . How did this happen?"

"The same way it always does," Hermione said, glaring back at him. "Someone did something they weren't supposed to."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, all I did was touch the bloody thing. It's not like I-"

"Exactly! Sirius, this book isn't supposed to be interacted with lightly. Do you really not know what it is?" Hermione asked him, gesturing to the book that was still floating in the air.

Sirius grinned, staring at the chain that held it in-place. "A manual for witches and wizards who fancy a bit of BDSM, obviously."

"This is the Principia Voluptas."

"The . . . the what?"

"The Principia Voluptas! The Book of Pleasure!"

Sirius leaned closer, suddenly seeming interested. "Really? You don't say."

Hermione ignored him and looked back at the book. She could feel the mark from the curse burning against her skin, spreading quickly down her chest. It felt like her whole body was on fire.

Hermione kept reading. "Shit. This isn't good."

"What's not good? How bad could getting cursed by a pleasure manual be?"

"The Book of Pleasure."

"Right, whatever. What's it going to make us do? Enjoy ourselves?"

"Err, no, actually, it's going to kill us by sundown if we don't follow its instructions."

"Bloody fuck, are you serious?"

"Yes."

"And what are its instructions?"

"Oh . . . Oh, Dear Lord. Oh, God, we've got to . . . "

Hermione lost the rest of her words.

She flicked her wand fast, turning the pages in front of her quickly and reading on, but the message was clear. Quite clear. 

There was only one way to break the curse.

"Jesus Christ," she said, covering her mouth with her hand, "we . . . we have to . . . Oh, God."

"We have to what?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Godric's arse, Hermione, would you just say it already?"

Hermione turned back to look at Sirius, feeling the color drain from her face. "We have to have sex."

" . . . With each other?"

Hermione grimaced. "With everyone."

"Now, wait," Sirius said, following Hermione as she headed for her desk, cleaning up more fallen stacks of books along the way. "Wait just a goddamn minute. When you say everyone-"

"I mean everyone."

"That's impossible. We can't have sex with everyone on the bloody planet before sundown. Though, I am willing to try-"

"Not everyone on the planet, you idiot, just, well . . . just the faculty, here at Hogwarts," she whispered.

Sirius stopped. "I am not fucking Filch!"

"Filch is staff, not faculty. Neither of us have to have sex with him. At least, I don't think so."

"Well, thank God," Sirius said, "because my summoning charm has been a bit rubbish lately and I didn't think to bring along any paper bags when I left my office."

Hermione ignored him again. Her mind was still on the Principia. "The book was very clear. It has to be contact of a sexual nature, involving genitals, with those we work closely with, who can provide . . . err . . . a similar level of enjoyment. And we can't leave anyone out."

"In that case," Sirius said, "I've got dibs on Flitwick. I've heard he's hung like a pegasus." 

Hermione covered her face with her hands. "Oh, God, I really didn't need to know that."

"I disagree. This is exactly the sort of information you need to know, given our new circumstances. Now, do we both have to fuck every member of the faculty or can we trade off?"

That was Sirius for you, always asking the important questions.

"The book wasn't clear on that particular distinction," Hermione said, "but, given the time crunch, I think we should avoid, err, duplicating each other's work until it becomes obvious that we have no other choice."

"Brilliant, well, I've still got dibs on Flitwick, and Neville, if you don't mind. I've heard some interesting things about him, ever since that Yule Ball you all had all those years ago. It sounds like he really enjoys a good, hard-"

"Fine, yes," Hermione said, mortified, "they're both all yours."

"What about the rest?"

"I . . . I don't know . . . do we really have to talk about it like this?"

"Apparently, yes, if we want to break this curse."

Hermione covered her face again, leaning back against her desk and shaking her head. "Oh, God. Why? I was just trying to have a nice quiet day without any-"

"If you're so nervous about it, I can shag all of them . . . "

"No, no, I have to be involved."

"Well, mostly just your genitals, actually, the way I understand it."

"Oh, God."

"Here," Sirius said, reaching past her, grabbing a piece of parchment and a quill off her desk, "let's make it easy."

Hermione watched him scribble down some words. When he was done, he tore off each set, flipped them over on the desk, and mixed them all up.

"There," Sirius said, smiling. "We'll draw names for the rest, and you can go first."

With a deep groan she feared wouldn't be her last of the day, Hermione reached down, and grabbed a scrap of parchment.

Minerva McGonagall

Hermione stared back at the scrap of parchment again, still wanting to scream. 

Of all the names, why oh bloody fuck why had she drawn McGonagall's? How was she supposed to have sex with McGonagall? McGonagall had been her professor for damn near seven years; her former head of house. She couldn't have sex with her old professor.

"Oh, come on," Sirius had said, "it's not like you've never seen her naked."

"What?!"

"Hermione, you've probably even seen her arsehole. For Godric's sake, I think we all have. Sometimes even during supper, when she comes trotting right up to the faculty table, waving her tail in all of our faces like she's some sort of bloody-"

"Sirius, oh my God, she's a cat then! It's not . . . it's not her actual . . . "

"Yes, it is, don't be silly," Sirius had said, loosening his robe and unbuttoning the top of his shirt, clearly preparing himself for the task that lie ahead, "of course it's her real arsehole. Just think of that if you get nervous. Just tell yourself, 'What's the worst that could happen? I've already seen her arsehole.'"

Of all the things Hermione was trying to tell herself right now, that was not one of them. 

Oh, God.

She took a deep breath.

It was fine. This would all be fine. It was good that she'd been the one to draw McGonagall's name. McGonagall could set this all right. She would know what to do. She might even know another way they could deal with the curse, something that didn't involve -

Hermione shuttered.

- genitals.

The door to Minerva's office was closed. Hermione stood outside for a moment, trying to compose herself. The red mark had spread to her stomach now. It wasn't very hard to guess where it would head next.

Slowly, carefully - oh so reluctantly - Hermione took another deep breath, and knocked on McGonagall's door.

"Come in," came the cheery response from the other side.

Hermione took yet another breath, and did just that.

McGonagall smiled as she walked inside. "Ah, Hermione! Hello, dear. How are you today? Getting along alright?"

"Actually, Professor," Hermione said, still trying to steady herself. Technically, McGonagall was more than just a professor now. She was the Headmistress, and had been for almost ten years, but Hermione had still never gotten used to calling her that. "There's something I need to talk to you about."

"Of course, dear, what is it? Here, have a seat. I was just about to have some tea. Would you care for some?"

"Not at the moment, no," Hermione said, shuffling over to McGonagall's desk. "Maybe first we can . . . well . . . "

"Oh, no," McGonagall said, her expression changing to one of concern, "what's happened?"

Hermione took another deep breath. "There was an accident in the Restricted Section. I know I'm not supposed to let anyone in there without permission, but, well, Peeves started breaking things, and Sirius decided he could just go and do whatever he bloody well wanted, and, the next thing I knew, there was some sort of explosion, and I was on the floor, lying there dazed, and he was-"

"So, Sirius did something foolish, and now you've both been cursed."

"I- Yes. Oh, God, is it that obvious?"

"Hermione, your whole neck is turning red. Whatever's gotten ahold of you is spreading, and spreading fast, am I wrong?"

"No," Hermione said, finally taking a seat, "no, you're not."

McGonagall leaned forward, reaching gently for Hermione's hand. "How long do you have?"

"Until sundown. If we don't fulfill the requirements by then, the curse will consume us."

"And what are the requirements?"

Hermione tried to respond, but she couldn't get the words out.

"It's alright, dear. Whatever it is, you can tell me."

Hermione shook her head, lowering her gaze and pulling her hand away from McGonagall's. "No, I . . . I can't. This is different. It's . . . Oh, God . . . it's-"

"Sexual?"

Hermione nodded, keeping her eyes on her lap.

"Oh, Hermione, is that all?"

Hermione looked up. "All? All?! Sirius and I have to have sexual relations with the entire faculty!"

McGonagall smiled, looking so very well composed. "That's really not so bad, dear. For a second, I was worried."

Once again, Hermione found herself covering her face with her hands. "Oh, God."

"You know," McGonagall said, getting to her feet, "if it helps, this isn't the first time something like this has happened."

" . . . it's . . . it's not?"

"Good heavens, no! At the rate things like this occur, you'd think there was some sort of invisible hive mind out there, constantly inventing new ways for all of us to fornicate. I mean, haven't you ever stopped to wonder why all of us are suddenly lust-crazed bisexuals who can't go a day without jumping one of our peers?"

"I . . . we are?"

"Why, of course," McGonagall said, taking off her outer robe and setting it down on her chair. "You really need to get out of the library more often, dear. Maybe then you would see the truth; that we are all just actors on someone else's stage."

"Now," McGonagall said, bending over to unlace her boots, "where would you like to do it?"

"Do what?"

"The sexual act, of course. I assume that's why you're here, isn't it? To seduce me and start clearing up this little condition of yours?"

"I, well, I, err, no. I was actually hoping you would know some other way for us to break the-"

"Oh, nonsense. There is no other way," McGonagall said, pulling off her stockings with a practiced motion and taking Hermione by the hand. "Here. Come with me. We'll start nice and slow."

Hermione got up, following McGonagall to the sofa in the corner of her office, the one nestled between her bookcase and a stove where a pot of tea was steaming.

"Have a seat, my dear," McGonagall said, gesturing to the sofa and reaching for the pot. "How do you take it? Would you like milk? Sugar?"

"Err," Hermione stammered as she sat down, having never been so nervous in her life, "just a bit of milk, no sugar, thanks."

She swallowed down the lump building in her throat as McGonagall followed her instructions and handed her a steaming cup.

Hermione thanked her again, watching with some shock as McGonagall reached into a nearby cabinet, took out a bottle of scotch, and poured a generous amount into her own cup.

"Would you care for some?" McGonagall asked her. "I always find it helps settle the nerves."

"God, yes," Hermione said, taking the bottle and filling her cup to the brim.

She was halfway through slamming down her concoction when McGonagall set down her own cup and saucer, and started to unbutton her blouse. "Right then, now, tell me, dear, what sort of things do you like to do in the bedroom?"

Hermione almost spit out her spiked tea as McGonagall's blouse fell to the floor, followed quickly by her skirt. She was now sat there alone with her former professor, who wasn't wearing anything but a blue laced bra and some very revealing, matching knickers.

Hermione squirmed, suddenly feeling a bit overdressed.

"Oh," she said, finishing off her scotch heavy tea and setting down her empty cup, trying so hard not to gape at the sight before her, "I, err-"

McGonagall smiled. "Have you ever been with a woman before?"

"I, err . . . "

Well, there had been that one time with Luna, when they had both been alone together in the Room of Requirement, and that other time with Ginny after that night out in London, when they had run through the rain together to catch a bus; when they had giggled and kissed and everything had been so wet; so, so very wet and so soaked through . . . 

"I have, yes," Hermione said, clearing her throat. "A few times, actually."

McGonagall smiled again. "Lovely." She reached for the pins that held her hair in-place, taking them out one by one and letting her grey locks fall to her shoulders. "How about someone with more . . . experience?"

"No, at least, not like this; not with someone like . . . "

Oh, God. She was having problems focusing.

Apparently the hard, erect nipples she had seen in the Principia weren't the only ones she was going to see today. It was a wonder the lace on McGonagall's bra didn't tear.

" . . . with someone like you, who I've always had so much respect for . . . "

Those nipples. My God. Did she use an engorgement charm?

"I . . . " Hermione stuttered. "I just can't seem to get my head around the idea of someone like you doing something like this with me."

McGonagall leaned toward her. "And why not?"

Don't think about her arsehole. Don't think about her arsehole.

For the love of God, do NOT think about her -

"Because . . . I . . . errr."

"Oh, Hermione, it's just sex. People do it all the time. What on earth have you got to be so worried about?" McGonagall asked, scooting closer, folding her legs up next to Hermione's.

"I . . . Errr. I just don't . . . I don't think I can . . . "

Goddamn it. 

At least Hermione wasn't thinking about McGonagall's arsehole anymore. Her former professor's erect nipples seemed to be banishing all other thoughts from her mind.

Well, shit.

McGonagall may have been older, but to Hermione, she was truly a wonder, and all those years spent watching her perform her transfiguration spells in front of a crowded classroom were suddenly all too much.

"I just . . . Oh, fuck it," Hermione said, leaning forward and reaching for McGonagall, pulling her close and kissing her hard.

McGonagall's hands were already on her, reaching for her robe and tugging it off, tossing it on the floor and helping her pull her still buttoned shirt over her head.

Hermione gasped as McGonagall kissed her again, shuddering as the older woman's practiced hands undid the clasp on the back of her bra and freed her breasts, cupping them gently and teasing her nipples with her fingers.

Hermione moaned. Her eyes rolled up toward the ceiling as McGonagall removed her own bra and leaned her back, straddling her on the sofa, breasts and nipples hanging loose and unrestrained.

"There you go, dear. Just relax, and let me see if I can still teach you a thing or two about magic."

Hermione's eyes were still on the ceiling. She gasped as McGonagall kissed her way down her stomach, unbuttoning her trousers and sliding them off her hips.

"I think you'll be pleasantly surprised to learn how much can be accomplished without a wand."

Hermione's fist clenched in ecstasy as McGonagall moved lower, working her way between her thighs and spreading them wide.

Dear Lord. There was so much to be said for experience. Magic like this really didn't require a wand, just a few fingers and an eager tongue, pushing hard against her warm clit.

The moan that escaped Hermione now felt as though it would break her open. Desperately, purposefully, she sat up, reaching for McGonagall, grabbing her shoulder and running her fingers through her hair.

"Now, now, take it easy, my dear," McGonagall said, gently pushing Hermione back down on the sofa. "Save your energy. I promise you, we are just getting started."

Chapter Text

Alright.

What the shit.

What the actual shit.

Where the bloody hell is he?

Sirius looked around again, but the Charms classroom and the office beyond it were both still empty.

There was still no sign of Flitwick.

Goddamn it.

Sirius groaned. He had already checked the faculty lounge, the hospital wing, the choir room, The Great Hall, the owlery, and the Astronomy Tower, but the unfortunate truth was that a man of Flitwick's stature could be hiding just about anywhere. At this rate, he was going to have to start looking in cabinets.

Sirius left the Charms classroom and headed back toward The Great Hall, wondering if he had somehow just missed seeing Flitwick in there the first time around, but Flitwick still wasn't there. Sirius scanned the faces of the few students who had lingered after lunch, but none of them were Ravenclaws, and he didn't think any of them were into singing in a large group or staying late after Charms to make friends with their professor. Maybe it was their blank stares, but they just didn't seem to be the type.

Sirius decided to try anyway.

"Hey, you lot. Have any of you seen Professor Flitwick?" he asked, still looking around, as if Flitwick might be hiding under one of the tables.

The students all shook their heads.

Goddamn it.

It's like he knows.

Sirius ignored the stares he got and walked back out of The Great Hall, feeling a bit deflated. What a time to not have the Marauder's Map. He didn't even know where it was these days.  It was probably wadded up in a drawer at The Ministry somewhere, and wasn't that a shame? He had been so ready for a good time.

Sirius stopped beneath the moving staircases, trying to think. He had looked just about everywhere now. Well, everywhere except the greenhouses, and the quidditch pitch, but he was having trouble picturing Flitwick on a broom, and he definitely didn't seem like the sort of man who liked getting his hands dirty.

Sirius sighed. Stranger things had happened today. It wouldn't hurt to check.

He shoved his hair out of his eyes and headed for the Entrance Hall, walking out the front doors and across the courtyard, down the path that wove around toward the greenhouses.

He was almost to his destination when who should he see but one Mister Neville Longbottom, leaning over a planter bed at the far side of the south courtyard, up to his elbows in a bag of soil.

Ah, now there was a man who didn't mind getting his hands dirty.

Sirius adjusted his shirt, making sure it wasn't falling off of him too much. He didn't want to seem desperate or anything, but time was of the essence.

"Oi! Neville! Fancy a quick shag?"

Neville looked up slowly. "What?"

Sirius sighed. Clearly, he hadn't heard him.

Sirius walked up to Neville, shouting a bit as he did. "Oh, you know, a shag! A nice romp in the hay! Some horizontal refreshment! Going heels to Godric!"

Neville laughed, raising an arm and using his sleeve to wipe off the mixture of dirt and sweat that covered his forehead. "You know, I'd ask what potions you got into this morning, but I really don't think I want to know."

"I haven't gotten into any potions," Sirius said, "I'm honestly just trying to shag you!"

Neville was still grinning. "Is that so?"

"You bet your arse it is," Sirius said. "I've got a curse on me and shagging you's the only way to kick it."

Neville shook his head, laughing again and going back to his bag of dirt. "Right, mate. Sure. Tell you what. Let me know when whatever it is you took wears off, and maybe we can go into town together, get us a few drinks, and have a nice chat like real adult colleagues."

Sirius' eyes drifted from Neville to whatever it was he was planting. "I see. I went about this the wrong way. Obviously, I should have just asked if I can plow your field, or play hide the carrot, or maybe plant my parsnip in your-"

"Dear Lord," Neville said, looking up at him again, "what on earth did you take?!"

"Nothing!"

"Sure, right. Just trying to be funny then?"

"I'm trying to shag you, you dolt! Honest to Godric!"

Neville shook his head again. He was still grinning, but he kept his eyes on his work. "Right. Sure. Hand me that spade, will you?"

" . . . Spade?"

"That little shovel there by your foot."

"Ah, right," Sirius said, bending down and picking it up. He brushed the shovel off a bit before handing it to Neville. "Here you go."

"Cheers."

Sirius watched Neville for a minute, studying the careful way he moved the plants from the wooden crate on his left to the waiting planter bed in front of him, setting each one down nice and deep before covering them with more soil.

"Couldn't you do this with magic?" Sirius asked him.

"Suppose I could, but what fun would that be? Here, hand me that next one would you?"

"The next plant?"

Neville grinned. "What else?"

What else indeed.

Sirius leaned down, staring at the contents of the half-empty wooden crate. "Right, yeah, do I just-"

"Just pick it up by the bottom. There you go. Keep your grip nice and firm. Don't be nervous. It's not Bear Snap. It's not going to bite you."

Ever so carefully, Sirius did as he had been told, and handed Neville the plant.

"Thanks, mate. You're a natural. Think you could- Oh, Godric's balls, wait, what's that on your chest?!"

Sirius shrugged. "I told you I was cursed."

"Shit, mate! I thought you were just having me on. Have you shown that to Pomfrey?! It looks like it's spreading!"

"It is, yeah. Seems to be moving lower and lower. I can just about feel it in my groin now."

"Fucking hell, how are you supposed to get rid of it?"

"By shagging you, idiot!" Sirius said. "I thought I made that clear."

Neville's eyes were still on the red mark. Suddenly, he looked worried. "Shit. You're really not messing around. You're in real trouble, aren't you?"

" 'Fraid so."

Neville raised an eyebrow. "And shagging me will solve things?"

Sirius smiled. "It will. It will help a lot. You see, I got this curse from a pleasure manual in the library. I have to sleep with damn near the entire faculty to get rid of it. If I don't, I really will die."

"That sounds so-"

"Planned? Contrived?"

"I was going to say ridiculous."

"You're telling me," Sirius said.

For a long moment, Neville just sat there, staring back at him. Sirius was about to walk away when Neville let out a long sigh, slapping his thighs and getting to his feet.

"Right then," he said. "Let's go."

Sirius almost fell over. "Wait, really?" 

"Yes, really," Neville said, wiping his hands on his trousers. It didn't do much to get rid of the dirt. "I can't very well have you dying on me."

"You're sure you really want to-"

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Neville said, grabbing Sirius by the arm and pulling him toward the greenhouses. "Come on. Let's do this quickly, before I change my mind."

Sirius didn't protest. He walked fast, stepping around the wooden crate, letting Neville and his dirty hands lead the way; following him to a door around the back of the row of buildings marked Greenhouse Nine.

It was hot inside, Sirius noticed; hot and humid. The air was thick and heavy. Some sort of tropical plants hung low over his head as Neville took him deeper into the maze that was obviously a part of his classroom. Sirius saw a long table up ahead that was laid out with materials, like a group of students were going to come in at any moment and re-pot something.

But Neville didn't seem concerned.

Sirius gasped as Neville pulled him behind a massive fern, and started to kiss him. Sirius kissed him back, reaching for the back of Neville's neck, trying to get a better angle. Neville definitely had a few inches on him in the height department. He wondered if that was true elsewhere. There was really only one way to find out.

Sirius reached down, fumbling with the front of Neville's trousers. Neville was doing the same with his, only he had already managed to undo a few of the buttons. Sirius let out a moan as Neville reached down into his pants, grabbing him firmly and starting to stroke, encouraging the erection Sirius had spent damn near the entire afternoon trying to tuck away.

Sirius yanked at the zipper on Neville's trousers, and pulled them down, reaching for the bulge he saw beneath.

Why, hello.

Clearly the fern wasn't the only massive thing in the greenhouse. He was going to need both hands for this.

Neville's mouth was still on his, kissing him eagerly; his hands were still on his cock, tugging at him faster and harder. Sirius swore, moving his own practiced hands up and down around Neville's cock.

He was just about to let out a moan when Neville shoved his pants all the way down, and turned around.

"Take me," he said, leaning over and backing toward Sirius.

"If you insist," Sirius said, moving forward and aligning himself with Neville. "Do you have any-"

"Use the aloe vera," Neville said, bracing himself against the table. "It's in that jar there."

Sirius grabbed the nearby jar and unscrewed the lid. He applied the substance inside liberally before leaning forward, and easing himself into Neville.

Neville moaned as Sirius reached around him, pulling himself closer, starting slowly then thrusting faster, getting into the rhythm and really starting to enjoy himself.

So was Neville. He was bent over further now, breathing hard and clutching the end of the table.

Sirius kept thrusting, moving in and out, pumping harder and harder beneath the fern, listening to Neville moan.

He didn't stop until they both came.

Hermione didn't notice that her shirt was on backwards until far too long after she had left McGonagall's office; after she had walked through a crowded corridor filled with students and stopped to explain to a distraught looking Hufflepuff girl why the library was closed.

"Sorry, Ingrid, there's been an emergency," Hermione had said, proud of herself for remembering the girl's name. "Don't worry. I should have it all sorted by tomorrow."

God, she hoped that was true. The mark had already reached her nether regions. It was hard to walk around without feeling like she was going to have an orgasm in her knickers.

"But I've got to finish my assignment! Please, Miss Granger, I just need to borrow a book on the founders and their contributions to the fall of-"

"Is this for Professor Binns' class?" Hermione asked.

Ingrid nodded, looking at her a bit funny.

Hermione sighed. "Alright, well, as it happens, I'm on my way to see him now. I'll explain what's happened and tell him to give you an extension."

"He would do that?"

That and a lot more, I hope.

Dear Lord, her loins were on fire. The feel of her trousers rubbing against her inner thighs was starting to become very problematic.

"I can be very persuasive," Hermione told Ingrid. "Run along now, before you're late."

The girl turned and hurried off, still looking at her a bit strangely.

Hermione made her way down the rest of the corridor, stopping only when she saw her reflection in a suit of armor.

Oh! Dear God.

No wonder Ingrid had looked at her so funny. She was a mess.

At least there weren't any students around anymore. Hermione pulled her arms out of her shirt, turned it around, and fixed the tangled disaster that was her hair as best she could. She had left her robe in McGonagall's office, but that was alright. She was pretty sure she wouldn't need it, at least, not for what she was going to do next, if she could do it at all.

Hermione made her way to the staircase and headed for Binn's office.

How the hell am I supposed to have sexual relations with a ghost? Will he even feel anything?

. . . Will I?

She didn't know. 

Oh, God.

There was only one way to find out.

The door to Binns' office was wide open. He was inside, floating just above his desk, reading from a large book that was hovering in the air.

"Professor?" Hermione said, quietly. She was still standing in the hallway.

Binns turned around, looking a bit startled. "What in Godric's- Ah! Miss Grant! I wasn't expecting you."

Clearly.

"It's Granger, actually," Hermione said, taking a few steps forward.

"Ah, yes, of course. Come in, Miss Granger."

Hermione did.

Binns smiled at her. "What brings you to see me today? Perhaps you would like to pick up where we left off yesterday and finish our discussion on Elfric the Eager?"

"Err, no, actually," Hermione said, closing the door behind her and sliding the lock into place. "I believe that was Professor McGonagall you were discussing Elfric the Eager with. I'm here to talk to you about something else entirely."

"Oh?" Binns said, looking more than a bit confused. "And what is that?"

Hermione wasn't sure if it was the curse, or the four orgasms she had just experienced at the hands of Minerva McGonagall, but, suddenly, she was feeling a lot more confident; a lot more . . . prepared for the assignment.

"Professor," Hermione said, clearing her throat, "are you familiar with the Principia Voluptas?"

"The what?"

"The Principia Voluptas. It's a rather ancient text, about pleasure."

"Oh," Binns said. "I, err, I see. And what . . . what exactly about this, err, ancient text of pleasure would you like to discuss?"

Hermione moved closer to Binns, positioning herself between him and the first row of desks. "Well, we should probably start with how it cursed me."

"Cursed you? A book about pleasure? Good heavens. Is it fatal?"

"Yes," Hermione said. "I'm afraid I haven't got long, but, as it turns out, you can help me."

"Oh? Is that so?"

"Yes."

"And how am I supposed to do that?"

Hermione took a step closer to Binns. "By having sexual relations with me."

The book that had been floating in the air near Binns fell, hitting the floor with a loud thud. Binns jumped. He hovered there for a moment in front of her with his mouth hanging open, looking shocked and horrified and whiter than ever.

"S-Sexual relations?"

"Yes."

"Good Godric. Miss Grant, I-"

"Granger."

"Yes, err, well, Miss Granger, even if having sexual relations with a man such as myself was the solution to your unfortunate predicament, I'm afraid I could never-"

"Why not?"

"Because you . . . you were my student!"

"Yes, but that was many years ago. We are colleagues now. We have been for a long time. I'm quite sure it's no longer inappropriate for us to enjoy ourselves."

Binns' mouth was still hanging open. "Perhaps," he stammered, "but I . . . I regret to inform you that I am no longer among the living. I am unable to, err," his eyes drifted over her, "interact with the physical world in any capacity."

"Don't worry, I've thought about that," Hermione said, "there might still be a way, if you are willing."

Binns didn't say anything. He still looked horrified.

Hermione took a step closer to him, reaching down and pulling her shirt over her head. "I hope you are, willing, that is, because, as you can see, the curse I've got on me is spreading, and will consume me by sundown if you aren't able to participate."

Binns' eyes went from hers to the red mark on her neck, following it down between her breasts to where it disappeared beneath her trousers. "I, err, consumed, you say?"

Hermione nodded, reaching behind her back, unclasping her bra, and letting it fall to the floor.

"Good heavens," Binns said, with his eyes on her chest, "well, we, err, I suppose we can't have that now, can we? How should we-?"

"I think you should start by taking off your robe."

"Ah, yes. Of course. Let me just see if I can . . . "

Binns' voice trailed off as he slipped out of his robe. The ghostly garment remained nearby, floating in the air between them. Binns shoved it to the side, undid his tie, and began to unbutton the vest and the shirt he wore underneath. He turned away from her as he undid his belt and trousers, pulling them down so they hung just beneath his hips.

The undergarments he had on were ancient, but they appeared to serve the same purpose as their modern day equivalents. When he turned back around, Hermione tried not to gape at the transparent bulge that was now hovering in front of her.

"Right then," Binns said, "now, err, how do we-"

Hermione reached out and covered Binns' hand with her own. 

It was cold. Oh, God, it was so cold. Her nipples went hard and she felt herself shiver, but now was no time to pull away.

"Guide me," she said. "Pleasure yourself, and I'll follow along."

She kept her hand submerged in his as he reached down into his undergarments, taking out his old cock, and starting to stroke.

Binns was quiet as he worked, moving his hand in a controlled, practiced motion, keeping his eyes fixed on her exposed breasts, staring at them with longing.

"I do wish I could . . . That I could just touch . . . "

"Try," Hermione said, moving closer, standing there with her lower body pressed up against his desk.

She braced herself as Binns reached out his free hand, and held it against her chest. The chill from his touch went right through her, freezing her all the way down to her toes.

Binns' eyes went lower. "Could you . . . Could you remove your . . . "

Hermione unbuttoned her trousers and pulled them over the curves of her arse and hips, letting them fall to the floor.

Binns, the gentleman that he was, reached down between her thighs, feeling for her pussy; clearly trying to return the favor.

Hermione gasped. Dear Lord. Dear fucking Lord. It was so cold. Jesus Christ. Even with her knickers on, with him rubbing his hand up against her, it was like masturbating with a piece of ice. Holy shit. He was still moving closer, trying to get his transparent fingers up inside of her. Holy bloody fucking shit.

At least her genitals were involved now.

She was just about to start questioning if she would ever be able to feel them or anything else again, when Binns started breathing harder, moving his hand faster and faster, up and down around his cock, until his whole body spasmed. He let go of her suddenly and turned away as a transparent, gunky white fluid came spurting forth.

Well. Wasn't that interesting, Hermione thought. Binns' emissions seemed to be just as ghostly as he was. They drifted there in the air between them for a moment, until Binns, looking utterly mortified, grabbed his robe and used the hem of it to clean up.

Hermione reached down and pulled her trousers back on. She really didn't want to think about how Binns would clean his robe, or if he even could. 

Oh, God.

Hermione shook her head, managing a grin. If she was still alive in the morning, she was going to cast a nice Obliviate on herself and banish forever the memories of Binns' floating cum and his balled-up robe.

"I . . . I'm so sorry," Binns said suddenly, interrupting Hermione's thoughts. "It's been so long since I . . . since I've done something like that with another person. Did you . . . " He stared at her for a moment, looking so very embarrassed. "You didn't enjoy yourself, did you?"

Hermione smiled. "Maybe not in the conventional sense, but I can honestly say that I've had the most unforgettable time."

"It's my fault. I . . . well . . . if there's ever anything I can do for you-"

"Actually, there is something you can help me with," Hermione said, grabbing her bra off the floor.

"Name it, my dear. Anything for a woman with your gumption."

"Well," Hermione said, clasping her bra and spinning it around her torso, "there's this girl in one of your classes. Her name is Ingrid . . . "

Sirius stared out over the quidditch pitch and the long, winding road between the castle and Hogsmeade, letting out a frustrated sigh. The mark on his body had traveled all the way down to his arsehole now, and he still couldn't find Flitwick. At this rate, that little man was literally going to be the death of him.

Sirius shook his head and turned his back on the quidditch pitch, shoving his hands in his pockets and wandering off across the meadow, trying to think of where to look next. He supposed he could try the choir room again, or the gentlemen's bathroom on the third floor corridor. Godric's arse, if only he still had that damn map.

Sirius kept walking. He hadn't gone much farther when he saw a sight that made him stop dead in his tracks. Down at the edge of the meadow, by the old broom shed, was Viktor Krum, all six feet three inches of him, carrying a stack of brooms, wearing a flight instructor's robe that did absolutely nothing to conceal his massive arms.

Dear Lord.

Sirius hadn't drawn Krum's name; Hermione had, actually, but it never hurt to look.

And look he did, staring at the sight of Krum and his brooms and his biceps and his shoulders and his back (Merlin's tits his back) and his chiseled jaw until he could feel his cock pressing against his briefs with a renewed vigor, acting like it hadn't already gotten exactly what it wanted not twenty minutes earlier.

Apparently, it was ready for more.

Sirius felt a sly grin spread across his face as he changed his course, heading across the meadow toward the broom shed, tucking his eager cock into the waistband of his trousers and whistling like he had just been out for a casual stroll.

"Oh, hello, Krum. Fancy meeting you out here."

Viktor turned around. "Oh, hello, Sirius. What brings you this way? Do you need a broom?"

"Something like that."

Viktor shifted the stack of brooms he carried from one shoulder to the next. "Hmmm, well, I do not have another class for an hour or so, if you would like to come pick one out."

"Excellent, yes," Sirius said, following Viktor toward the shed. "Do you need help with those?" 

"The brooms? No, I've got them," Viktor said. "Maybe you can get the door for me though?"

"Sure, yeah," Sirius said, dodging around Viktor and reaching for the handle. "Least I could do."

Krum smiled. Sirius followed him inside, and closed the door.

The shed was dark, but clean, and well-organized. A lamp hung in the far corner, casting shadows on the racks of quidditch equipment and brooms. There were so many of them; so many different lengths and types and models. Sirius had forgotten how big some of them could be. The girth of the handles on some of the new Firebolts was absolutely -

"Make yourself at home, alright?" Krum said, carefully setting down the stack of training brooms he carried. "Take your time. Pick the one that speaks to you."

"Oh," Sirius said, feeling himself go hard all over again, "I will."

Krum didn't seem to notice that there was only one broom he was interested in riding. Sirius tried to ignore him, and focus on the brooms Krum wasn't handling, but now the big brute was pulling off his robe and lifting up his shirt, using the hem to wipe his forehead.

"Excuse me," Viktor said, tugging his shirt over his head and tossing it on a bench by the door, "it is hot out today."

"It is, yeah," Sirius said, still trying to avert his gaze, "do whatever you need to. Godric knows I'm not here to judge."

Krum smiled. "Thank you, Sirius. You are always so . . . what is the word?"

Horny? Filled with longing? Ready to have you be my beater?

"Unfazed," Krum said, interrupting his thoughts, "that is the word. You are always so unfazed; always down for anything."

"That I am," Sirius said. "That I am."

He was staring now. Godric, he was staring, and he couldn't help it. There was barely three feet of empty air separating him from Krum's amazing pecs and abs.

Krum raised an eyebrow, following his gaze. "I think maybe you did not come here for a broom though. At least, not this kind," he said, gesturing at the racks that surrounded them. "Am I wrong?"

"No," Sirius said, taking a step toward him, "you're not."

Krum smiled. "Maybe I can interest you in something else then; something more personal. Would you like a private lesson?"

Good Lord, yes.

"Whatever you think is best," Sirius said. "I'm not so great at flying, but I definitely know my way around a broom."

Viktor reached down, loosening his trousers and freeing his cock. "Even a broom like this?"

"Most definitely," Sirius said.

He leaned forward and grabbed Viktor by the shoulders, pulling him into a kiss. Viktor's lips started on his, then worked their way down his throat. Sirius moaned as Viktor took his hand, guiding it to his cock and telling him to stroke. Sirius did, amazed at the bulk of it; loving how hard it was - how hard and warm.

Viktor's mouth was on his chest now. His hands were on the front of his trousers. With one firm motion, he tugged them down, letting them fall to the floor. But he wasn't done. He kissed his way back up Sirius' neck, pulled down his pants, and told him to turn around.

Sirius obeyed, spreading his legs and leaning forward, bracing himself against a cabinet and one of the broom racks, eager and willing for what was to come. He shuddered a moment later as Viktor pinned him against the cabinet, and eased himself inside of him.

Sirius leaned forward, moaning. Viktor had started slow, but now he was picking up the pace, thrusting harder and harder. His body shook as Viktor held him close, keeping him pinned against the cabinet, whispering into his ear until Sirius had no choice but to keep begging for more.

Oh, Godric, yesssssss.

He could really get used to this. Being cursed was fucking excellent.

Hermione hadn't even made it to the broom shed before she heard the loud gasps and the sounds of moaning that came from inside. She stopped at the edge of the meadow, standing there by the path that led down the hill toward the Forbidden Forest, clutching the piece of parchment upon which Sirius had written the name Viktor Krum.

The gasps coming from the shed got louder, so did the moans. Hermione swore. It sounded like someone had beaten her to Krum.

She crumbled up the piece of parchment and stuck it in her back pocket, went around to the back of the shed, and, oh so carefully, took out her wand, and used a charm to move the shutter on the back window, just enough to see inside.

When she did, she almost screamed. There was Sirius, with his pants and trousers around his ankles, holding onto a cabinet while Viktor Krum rammed him from behind.

Oh, my God. That fucking wanker!

Hermione almost screamed again. She covered her mouth with her hand instead, trying to stop herself, standing there like an idiot while the two of them went at it. She was horrified. Absolutely bloody horrified. So bloody fucking horrified . . .

. . . but she couldn't seem to look away.

Viktor Krum's arse was right there, all exposed and tight and pumping, and his arms, Dear Lord, the way he was bracing himself and holding onto Sirius at the same time, with his muscles bulging against his skin, begging to keep being put to work . . . 

It was all enough to drive Hermione absolutely insane.

She was still staring at Viktor's arms and arse when Sirius looked back over his shoulder, and saw her. She expected him to scream - to tell Viktor to stop - but he didn't. He didn't do either of those things

He winked.

The bloody bastard winked at her, and started grinning, leaning back against Viktor and telling him to go harder - to go harder and faster and not to stop, whatever he did, "Dear Godric don't you stop," because he was almost there.

Hermione watched as Sirius' body convulsed; as he shouted and let out a deep moan, holding onto the cabinet for support. Viktor was still going at him, thrusting hard, holding him in-place until he reached climax, biting his lip and leaning forward against Sirius, smiling and content.

Hermione looked away while they cleaned themselves up. She walked around to the front of the shed, wondering if she should stay or get out of there. She had another name on another scrap of parchment. She could go try to find the next person on her list, but now she was just so . . . well . . . wet. She was so bloody wet and so bloody turned on that she about couldn't stand it.

She jumped as the shed door opened, and out walked Sirius, grinning at her shamelessly and buttoning up his trousers.

"I hope you enjoyed that," he said. "I certainly did."

Hermione glared at him. "I could tell."

"Oh, come on, Hermione, don't be cross with me! It's not my fault, honestly. I was just looking for Flitwick when I-"

"When you tripped and ended up with Viktor Krum inside of you?"

"Yes, actually, if you can believe it."

Hermione shook her head. "You are absolutely insufferable." She took out the scrap of parchment she had stuck into her back pocket and waved it at him. "You said drawing names would make things simple! Well, I'm the one that drew his name! I was supposed to be the one who-"

"You know, if you like," came a familiar voice from the shed doorway, "I could fuck you as well."

Hermione turned around, finding herself staring back at Viktor Krum, who had clearly decided not to put any of his clothes back on yet.

Hermione's mouth fell open. She covered it quickly with her hand.

"That is, only if you want me to," Viktor said. "Sirius told me about the curse." He leaned against the doorway and smiled at her. "Better safe than not safe, yes?"

Hermione was sure her face had gone at least three shades of red.

"I say you take him up on it," Sirius said. "If my experience is anything to go by, you won't regret it. And he's right. We're dying, remember? We can't afford to be too careful. Not in this sort of situation. I say you fuck the man."

Hermione kept her hand over her mouth. She shook her head again, trying to ignore Sirius and the burning sensation spreading down her legs; the way the friction of her trousers felt against her skin and the sight of Viktor Krum's abs and arms and re-hardening cock.

Unfortunately, doing any of these things just didn't seem to be possible. Maybe it was the curse. Maybe she really had managed to leave all of her inhibitions behind in McGonagall's office with her robe. She didn't know. All she knew was that she wanted to be the one pressed up against that cabinet.

Hermione uncovered her mouth, and looked back at Krum.

Well, fuck it.

He did offer. It would be rude not to oblige.

Hermione let out a long breath and stepped forward, walking right past Sirius. "Oh, fine!"

She reached out and grabbed Viktor by the arm, dragging him into the shed before she lost her nerve. "Come on, then, if you're still willing."

"Oh," Viktor said, "I am willing."

He followed her inside and shut the door.

She had barely gotten her shirt over her head when he reached for her, pulling her against him and kissing her; helping her out of her trousers and her bra and her knickers, tossing the lot of it on a bench by the door.

Hermione gasped as he got on his knees, kissing his way down her stomach; following the mark of the curse all the way to her clit. 

Hermione moaned, reaching back to grab onto something - to grab onto anything. Viktor was still on his knees, licking and sucking and God knew what else, holding her firmly with his hands on the back of her arse. She didn't know if Sirius was watching them. She didn't care. She closed her eyes and let her body go, building steadily toward orgasm, running her fingers through Krum's thick hair.

When it was all too much, she shuddered, letting out a cry and falling forward as Viktor kept up his assault.

She had come three times when he finally stood up, wiping his lips and leaning down to kiss her like he had when they were younger.

But they weren't children anymore.

"Do you see that rack of brooms?" Viktor asked, turning her around with a firm hand.

"Yes?"

She could feel his hard cock, pressing against her lower back.

"You will want to hold on."

Hermione gasped as Viktor entered her, going slow and finding his way. Her body jolted as he started to thrust, pumping in and out of her harder and harder, until, once again, something inside of her began to build. Hermione bit her lip, leaning forward against the rack of brooms and closing her eyes, remembering the way Viktor had looked when he had driven himself in and out of Sirius, the way his taunt, muscular arse had become even more taunt and muscular with every motion of his body.

Hermione moaned as he reached around, fingering her pussy eagerly with one hand and bracing himself against the broom rack with the other as he drove into her again and again.

She reached behind her, wrapping her arm around his neck; sinking her nails into his skin as she came.

Chapter Text

Viktor Krum had still been balls deep in Hermione, thrusting hard and whispering sweet nothings into her ear, when Sirius had decided it was time for him to stop watching them, and get back to the task at hand. The sun was getting lower. Long shadows were starting to appear at the edges of the forest. He couldn't afford to waste any more time.

Sirius hadn't gotten very far when he stopped on the road between the castle and Hogsmeade, reaching down and digging around in his front pockets, pulling out his remaining scraps of parchment and staring at each name.

Goddamn it.

He still had three people left to fuck, the bloody rash mark thing was getting worse, and he was running out of time.

Krum had been a distraction. A really, really nice distraction, but a distraction all the same. Hermione was doing her part. It was time for him to do his. If he wanted to live long enough to see tomorrow, he would have to get a move on.

The only problem was, he still couldn't find Flitwick, and, now, he couldn't find Hagrid either. He hadn't been in his hut, or in the stables with the Thestrals, or in the clearing out by the lake where he usually taught his classes.

Flitwick I can understand. He's small. He can vanish. But how the hell does a man with Hagrid's bulk manage to disappear?

Sirius didn't know, but at least he had a pretty good idea of where to look for him next. He shoved the scraps of parchment back into his pockets, and headed for Hogsmeade.

When Sirius got to town, he poked his head inside the Three Broomsticks, but he didn't see Hagrid. Madam Rosmerta was busy cleaning up behind the counter. Sirius gave her a friendly nod and left, heading for the Hog's Head.

He grinned a minute later, as he pushed open the front door of the inn. He could already hear Hagrid, talking and laughing with Aberforth over at the bar. 

Sirius found himself reaching for his wand as he stepped inside, but stopped just short of taking it out and casting Lumos. It was dark inside the inn, and just as dingy as it always was. Something was making the underside of his boots stick to the floor.

"Well, well," said Aberforth, catching sight of him in the dim light, "if it isn't Sirius Black."

Hagrid turned around. "Sirius!" he said, hiccupping a bit and using his arm to wipe his mouth. "Wha' are yeh doin' out o' the castle at this hour? Aren' yeh supposed ter be teachin' a class?"

Sirius shrugged. 

"Oh, probably," he said, waving his hand in a dismissive manner and taking a seat next to Hagrid. "They'll be fine. What are you chaps up to?"

There was a dog at Hagrid's feet, sound asleep and drooling all over the grimey floor. Sirius looked at it for a minute, trying to remember its name. He should know this. He liked dogs. He technically was a dog. He kept his eyes on the sleeping animal, studying it for a moment. It wasn't Fang. He was pretty sure Fang had died a few years ago. Hagrid had even given him a funeral. It sort of looked like Fang though. It had the same proportions; the same coloring and the same massive head.

He was still staring at the dog when Hagrid said, "Oh, jus' tryin' out this here cask ale Aberforth got from a bloke down in Edinburgh. D'you wan' some? 's pretty good. I think yeh would really like it."

"I'll take some, yeah, sure. Why not."

Hagrid smiled. "Yeh hear tha', Aberforth? Load 'im up!"

Aberforth did just that, filling a large tankard with ale and setting it down in front of Sirius. Foam ran over the sides of the tankard as Sirius raised it to his lips.

"Cheers, old man," he said, taking a drink.

"Cheers, lad," Aberforth said. "Drink up. There's plenty more where that came from. You look like you could use it today."

Sirius raised the tankard again. "If only you knew how true that was."

He took a long drink. Then another. And another. The ale was more than good. It was fantastic. Before he knew it, he was halfway through his third tankard, leaning on the counter and laughing with Aberforth and Hagrid.

"That was fine, I told her, as she walked out the door," Aberforth said, taking a drink from his own tankard as he finished the story he had started to share, "but could she at least leave the goat?"

Hagrid laughed, hiccuping again and slapping his thigh. The dog - Fang the Second? Fang Two? Son of Fang? - woke up and looked up at its master with some annoyance.

Sirius smiled. "What happened next?"

"Well," Aberforth said, "to my relief, she did! She left the goat, along with my trousers! I sat there all night with that bloody animal, talking to it like an old friend and finishing off my bottle of mead. Sure, it made the neighbors talk, but I've never felt so content since."

Sirius had to laugh at that.

The dog - Other Fang? Not Quite Fang? - had gotten up now. It stretched and padded over to him, wagging its tail and sniffing at him. Sirius leaned down to pet it, scratching it a bit behind the ears. It was a nice dog; a friendly dog; a lady dog, he saw now. Sirius supposed that made her more of a Fangette .

He was still petting the dog, when Hagrid looked over at him. "Everythin' alrigh', Sirius? Yeh still look sort o' glum."

Sirius sat up. Aberforth wasn't standing there with them anymore. Sirius could hear him in the kitchen behind the bar now, opening and closing some cabinets and running water in a sink.

Sirius looked back at Hagrid. "I am glum," he confessed. "I think I have the right to be though. As it happens, I'm dying."

Hagrid's eyes just about bulged right out of his skull. "Dyin'?! Wha' d'yeh mean, yeh're dyin'?!"

"I'm dying," Sirius repeated, "so's Hermione. We've got a curse on us."

"Merlin's beard! A curse? Tha's terrible! Wha' sort o' curse?!"

"The sort that's killing us."

Hagrid swore again. "Isn' there summat yeh can do ter stop it?!"

"There is," Sirius said. He drank down the last of his ale and kept his eyes on the bar. "I'm afraid that's the problem."

Hagrid looked confused. "I don' understand. Can yeh stop it or not?"

Sirius slid his empty tankard to the side and fixed his gaze on Hagrid. "Oh, I can stop it alright, but I'm not sure you're going to like the solution."

"No?"

Sirius shook his head

"Oh, come on, Sirius, it can' be tha' bad."

"No, you're right, actually," Sirius said. "It's worse."

"Well, for Godric's sake, wha' is it?"

Sirius let out a long breath and kept his eyes on Hagrid. "Hermione and I have to have sex with every member of the faculty."

For a moment, Hagrid didn't say anything. He looked confused, then a bit horrified. "Merlin's beard . . . yeh have ter . . . with everybody?! "

"Not everybody, no, just the faculty."

"But then . . . then tha' means . . . Godric's arse, me, too?!"

Sirius nodded. "You, too."

Hagrid looked absolutely shaken. He grabbed his tankard and downed the rest of his ale.

"I told you you probably weren't going to like it," Sirius said.

Hagrid was quiet for another moment, then he said, "When do yeh have ter . . . errr . . . when do we have ter-"

"Before sundown."

Hagrid kept his eyes on the counter. "Do I have ter do it with Hermione, too, or jus' with-"

"Just with me, I hope."

Relief spread across Hagrid's face. "Oh, good! I don' think I could have . . . Err . . . I mean, not tha' she's not a beautiful woman, because she is, she really is, it's jus' tha' I've known her since she was so little, and it would be so weird ter-"

"Right, yeah, don't worry about it," Sirius said, trying to get that mental image out of his head. "I'm pretty sure she feels the same way. I'm hoping me and you can just shag each other real quick and get it all over and done with, if you don't mind helping out."

"O' course, yeah, I suppose. Anythin' fer yeh and Hermione," Hagrid said, setting his empty tankard on the counter. "Now, where should we, err, I mean, it's gettin' kind o' late, how do yeh wan' ter-"

"Oi! Aberforth! Got any empty rooms right now?" 

"Most of the ones upstairs aren't taken," came the reply from the kitchen. "Why?"

"No reason!" Sirius replied, getting to his feet and darting around Fangette; heading for the staircase in the corner of the room before Aberforth could get any more curious.

"Well, you heard the man," Sirius said to Hagrid, looking back at him over his shoulder as he made his way upstairs. "Let's go find us a room."

Hagrid hesitated, then got to his feet, and followed Sirius, walking up the stairs with Fangette at his heels.

The first door Sirius tried was locked, but the second one was wide open. The room beyond looked a bit small, but well lit by the afternoon sun. There were clean sheets and a stack of towels on the bed, and a rather nice view of Hogsmeade out the window. The toilet and shower in the adjoining bathroom looked clean. This would do. This would do nicely.

Sirius turned and looked back at Hagrid, who had stopped in the doorway. "Come on. Promise I won't bite," Sirius said, giving Hagrid a playful grin. "Unless you want me to?"

Hagrid came in and closed the door behind him, leaving Fangette out in the hallway. 

Hagrid's wide girth made the room look even smaller. His head barely cleared the ceiling. "I, err, I don' know. Ter tell yeh the truth, I've never, err, well, I've never done summat like this with a man before."

Sirius smiled. "Don't worry. It'll be my first time, too. Well, sort of. I've never shagged someone who was half giant before. Are you still up for it?"

"I, err, yeh know, I'd be lyin' if I said I hadn' ever though' abou' doing it with a man before."

"Really? Is that so?" 

Hagrid nodded, looking a bit embarrassed.

Sirius laughed. "Ha! You old fox! That's excellent! Was there someone in particular you fancied?"

"Oh, I don' know if I should-"

"Was it Dumbledore?" Sirius asked, taking off his robe and setting it on a chair by the window; pulling off his boots and starting to get comfortable.

"No, no, not 'im," Hagrid said, keeping his eyes down.

"Snape?"

Hagrid shook his head.

Sirius stood there in his socks for a moment with his hands on his hips, trying to think. 

" . . . Aberforth?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Hagrid shook his head, eyes drifting back to his toes.

"Well, shit, you've got me, mate," Sirius said. "I mean, who else is there for you to have thought about doing it with . . . Wait! Oh, good Lord, is it Moody?! Alastor Moody?! "

To Sirius' horror, Hagrid nodded.

"Bloody hell!" Sirius said, slapping his thigh. "Old Mad Eye does it for you, huh? When did you find this out?"

"Oh," Hagrid said, taking off his coat; looking a bit self-conscious as he started to unbutton his shirt. He was hairy. Dear Lord. He was so hairy everywhere. "I suppose it were a few months after the Triwizard Tournament."

"Shit, mate. You've been carrying a torch for him that long?"

"Well, I don' know nothin' abou' carryin' no torch, but after Maxine left an' Moody was himself again, I started gettin' this funny feeling whenever I saw 'im. Always admired the way he got righ' ter the point. He never was worried 'bout steppin' on anyone's toes-"

"Probably because he's only got half of his own."

"-an' then, one day, while we was out workin' fer the order, I found myself wonderin' wha' it would be like ter be with 'im, like if I got behind 'im, could he see me through the back of his head while we was-"

"Oh, oh, Godric's arse! Oh, holy fuck, mate!" Sirius said, shaking his head and raising his hands to hide his horrified expression. He couldn't help it. He started laughing. "You know what, I think some things are best left to the imagination!"

"Ah, righ', righ'," said Hagrid, now looking thoroughly embarrassed. 

"Moody though!"

"Yeah, yeah, Moody. So, err, how do we err-"

"Tell you what," Sirius said, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it on the chair on top of his robe. He took a step toward Hagrid, moving slowly; trying not to frighten him off. "Since this is your first time doing something like this with a man, I hope you don't mind if I take it upon myself to show you a good time."

"Oh, I, errr. I would like tha'."

"Excellent! Well then, how about this," Sirius said, unbuttoning his trousers and tugging them down. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

"Oh, err, well, mine's, err . . . mine's not very impressive. At least, not if you're expecting-"

"Oh, nonsense!" Sirius said, pulling off his pants and taking out his cock. It seemed to be a lot less enthusiastic about the current situation than it had been about the one with Viktor Krum, but he was pretty sure he could wake it up. 

He looked back at Hagrid. "Don't be shy! Come on! Let's see it!"

"Well, alrigh' . . . if you're sure . . . " Hagrid said, unbuttoning his trousers and lowering them and his pants to the floor.

Sirius took a step back, preparing himself for what was coming, but all he saw was -

"Oh! It's . . . "

"A bit small, yeah, sorry. 'Fraid I take after me father in tha' department."

"No, no, it's . . . this is wonderful!" Sirius said, smiling at the sight before him. He had been a bit worried about shagging a half giant. He had worried if he would even be able to fit his mouth, or anything else, around Hagrid's cock; if the rest of him was any indication of its size. But this? He could handle this. This would be just fine. 

"Honestly, mate," Sirius said, "if you're cock's anything to go by, your father was only small compared to a giant. For a human he must have been . . . well . . . I mean, clearly he was big enough to fuck a giant."

"Oh, err, yeh think so?"

"Damn right! You're proof of that. Here, here, let me help you with your shirt. Let's see what else we're working with. Great, yes, there now, how about you stand over here? Just lean back against the bathroom doorway there and I'll do the rest."

"Oh, err, alrigh'. Do you wan' me ter-"

Sirius smiled. "No, no. All I need you to do is relax."

With that, he leaned down, and got on his knees.

Hagrid's cock was wonderful; perfectly eager and well-proportioned. It was pretty clear that Hagrid had never trimmed his Forbidden Forest, but Sirius didn't mind. He started just beneath Hagrid's navel, kissing him gently and working his way down, using his hands for a moment before taking the half giant's half giant cock into his mouth.

"Oh," Hagrid said, leaning back as his eyes closed, "oh, oh, tha's . . . tha's . . . "

Some of his best work, was what it was. 

"Tha's nice. Tha's real nice."

Sirius kept going, using his tongue liberally; keeping his lips around the top of Hagrid's cock; using his hands to take care of the rest of it as he moved his head back and forth, taking Hagrid in deeper each time.

He could hear Fangette, whining and scratching at the door, but he wasn't stopping now. He reached down slowly, taking his own cock in his free hand and starting to stroke, moaning while Hagrid did the same.

"Tha's . . . Oh . . . bloody hell," Hagrid said. "Bloody hell, tha's nice."

It was. Sirius grinned, leaning forward and wanking himself off more vigorously; keeping his lips firmly around Hagrid's cock until the half giant reached his climax; staying on his knees until both of them were satisfied.

Potions had never been Hermione's favorite class. She had always sort of hated the way some of the ingredients had smelled; the way they had stained her clothes and singed her hair whenever they were stirred over an open flame. Despite all of that, she had still been good at Potions. She had liked being good at Potions. She had liked knowing her way around a cauldron.

But that had been a long time ago. Heading down the steps to the dungeon now, she could only think about how dark it was; how dark and dingy and . . . moist, like something was growing on the other side of the walls; something green and utterly foul.

But there was no turning back now. She had already come this far, and there was only one more scrap of parchment in her pocket.

Hermione took a deep breath, and stepped inside the Potions classroom. The person she was looking for wasn't in there, but she could see him now, sitting at a desk in the office beyond - the office that had once belonged to Professor Snape.

Draco Malfoy kept his eyes on his desk and whatever it was he was writing down as she walked inside. 

"Something I can help you with, Granger?" he asked.

"Err, yes, actually," Hermione said, closing the door behind her. "I need a favor."

Draco looked up. "Is that so?"

Hermione nodded.

Draco was still staring at her. "Your hair's a mess, did you know?"

"I had a feeling."

"Is that . . . broom straw?" he asked, squinting at her.

"Probably. I was just in the shed."

"Doing what? Rolling around on the floor?"

"Not quite, no. I was with Viktor, actually. He was helping me reach something."

With his cock . . . 

Draco raised an eyebrow. "And now you need my assistance, too?"

"I do, yes."

Draco sighed and put down his quill. "Alright, fine. Suppose I needed to take a break anyhow. What do you need?"

"I need your help with a curse."

"What sort of curse?"

"A fatal one."

"Of course it is," Draco said, leaning back and rubbing his eyes. "And what, pray tell, do you want me to do about it?"

"I want you to help me get rid of it."

"If you think a potion will do the trick, then, by all means, go have a look in my storeroom and help yourself."

Hermione shook her head. "A potion won't help, I'm afraid. The main ingredient I need won't be on your shelves."

Draco raised another eyebrow. "Really? And what is this elusive ingredient?"

"You."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, more specifically, your genitals."

Draco's mouth fell open. "My what?"

"Your genitals. I need them to break the curse, if you don't mind letting me borrow them real quick-"

Draco shoved his chair back, getting to his feet and looking at her with an expression of horror, realizing she was being serious. "You want to borrow my genitals?"

"Well, yes, actually, I was hoping we could-"

Draco glared at her across his desk, looking much the way he often had in the days before they had both hit puberty. "What the shit is wrong with you, Granger? Are you mental?"

Hermione took a step closer to him. "No, I just-"

Draco threw up his hands. "No! No! Stay back! You're not getting your grubby little hands on my cock! I don't know what the fuck you're on about, but if you even try to cut it off and use it for some sick, demented purpose, I promise you I will-"

"Oh, Draco, calm down! I'm not going to cut off your cock."

"Or my balls!"

"Or your balls."

"Then what the bloody fuck do you intend to do with them?"

It was Hermione's turn to grin. "Well, I was hoping I could touch them."

Draco looked confused. "You . . . you what?"

"To break the curse I've got on myself, I need to have sexual relations with you."

Draco stared at her for another minute, looking absolutely aghast.

Then, he started laughing. "Godric's arse, Granger, are you serious?"

"Unfortunately . . . yes."

"Good Lord!" Draco said. He was still laughing; looking at her like she was absolutely mental. "You're not joking, are you?"

"Draco, look, I haven't got a lot of time. This curse is going to kill me if I don't-"

"Right, fine, relax, Granger," he said, composing himself and giving her a sly smile. "I'll give you what you want, if you do something for me in return."

"Oh? What's that?"

She knew that look. She had seen it on his face before. She tensed as Draco came toward her, walking around his desk and taking off his robe, setting it down on the seat of a heavily upholstered chair. The shirt he had on underneath fit him perfectly. The first three buttons at the top were undone. She could see the outline of his chest. He wasn't wearing a tie, just a belt and a nice pair of suspenders, like he had been that night she had run into him at one of the pubs in Greenwich after she had given a lecture at the university.

"Draco, if this is about what happened last spring-"

"It's not," he said, with another coy grin, "but wasn't that fun?"

It had been, actually. They had spent about three hours together in the pub that night, talking about her lecture; about the time he had spent backpacking around Europe with one of his muggle friends and his mother's ever growing collection of peacocks. For the first time ever, she'd had fun with him.

Too much fun. They had ended up going back to hers and spending the night exploring each other's bodies like naughty school children, shaking her bed so hard they had gotten a complaint from her downstairs neighbor.

Hermione blushed at the memory.

"Draco," she said, trying to compose herself, "that night was lovely, it really was, but I told you, I can't-"

To her surprise, he reached into his back pocket, took something out, and handed it to her.

Hermione stared at it for a moment. It was a ticket, for some sort of event at an apothecary in London.

Hermione was confused. She looked back at Draco. "I don't understand. What's this for?"

"For the favor you'll owe me, after I've let you use my genitals."

Hermione looked back at the ticket. "You want me to go to an apothecary with you?"

"Not with me! With Snape."

"Severus Snape?"

"Who else?"

"Why the hell would I go to an apothecary with Snape?"

"So I don't have to, obviously. He's been on my arse about it for weeks. He won't shut up about how someone from Hogwarts needs to be there to represent the school. I swear to Godric, I liked him a lot more before he started hobnobbing about with so many other well-heeled people."

"Draco-"

"Look, Granger, I know you don't exactly like Snape, but at least you'll appreciate how academic this little get together is supposed to be. You might even enjoy yourself. Old Snape might even do something besides scowl and swear under his breath all night if you're the one who shows up."

"Fine, okay, yes," Hermione said, tucking the ticket into her back pocket. "You know what, I'll go."

He was right. She probably would enjoy it. Maybe she could even ask someone at the apothecary how to make Dragon's Breath without setting herself on fire.

"Excellent," Draco said, rolling up his sleeves. "Glad that's sorted. Now, about my genitals. Where would you like to start?"

"Oh, err, however you would like, seeing as you're the one who's being so courteous."

"Nonsense, Granger. You can't imagine the headache you're saving me by going to that little gathering at the apothecary."

Hermione cleared her throat. "Oh, well, in that case, maybe we can start the way we did that night in London."

"I wish we could," Draco said, moving closer; backing her against the wall by the door, "but I haven't got any wine." 

"I was more thinking of how we started after we left the pub."

"Ah," Draco said, reaching for her shirt slowly and undoing the first few buttons. "Like this?"

"Errr, yes," Hermione said, moaning a bit as Draco leaned in, and started to kiss her neck. "Much like that."

She gasped a moment later as, with very adept fingers, Draco reached beneath her shirt, behind her back, and unclasped her bra, tugging it down and leaving it hanging from her arms while he buried his face in her breasts.

Hermione reached forward, running her fingers through Draco's thick hair as he sucked on her nipples, taking them into his mouth one by one; nibbling on them and unbuttoning the rest of her shirt; playing with her until she about couldn't stand it.

"Oh, God," Hermione said. "I really wish you wouldn't tease me."

Draco grinned, looking up at her as he worked his way lower, keeping a hand on her breasts, kneading them hard and kissing his way down to the hem of her trousers, unbuttoning them quickly and pulling them off her hips.

Hermione moaned, placing her hand on Draco's head and guiding him down between her legs, remembering exactly what it had been about that night they had spent together that she hadn't been able to get enough of.

It was his tongue. Oh, God, it was his tongue.

Slytherin really had been the right house for him. 

Dear Lord.

Hermione moaned again. Whatever he was doing down there, she could feel it in her toes. She leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes as he devoured her, sucking hard with his lips and flicking his tongue against her clit, bringing her closer and closer to climax.

Hermione's body spasmed as her orgasm came. Draco kept both of his hands on her, pinning her against the wall. She was still cumming when he stood up, took out his cock, and entered her. 

The force of his thrusts made her gasp. She held onto him as he moved in and out of her, biting her lip and inhaling hard as he brought her to climax once more. She was still trying to catch her breath when he picked her up, moved her over to his desk, and laid her down, knocking aside stacks of parchment and bottles of ink, bending over her and driving himself inside of her once more.

Hermione reached out, holding onto the back of Draco's well-upholstered chair and letting out a cry as, together, they came.

"Oh! Oh, my heavens! Oh! It's happening! It's finally happening!"

Sirius grunted, trying not to fall off the bed as Sybill Trelawney bounced around on top of him, moving her hips up and down in an ever quickening rhythm, breathing harder and harder and digging her nails deeper into his chest.

"Oh! Oh, it's magnificent! Can you feel it, Sirius? Can you? The stars are aligning! The umbra is in-place! And the penumbra, too! Oh, Sirius! It's wonderful! Can you feel it?"

"Oh," Sirius said, wincing a bit as Trelawney drew blood, "I can feel it."

He really hoped she planned on healing him up a bit when this was all over. At this rate, he wasn't going to be able to walk back down the stairs. 

It was his fault, really, Sirius thought, as Trelawney came down on top of him again. He supposed he could have said something. He just hadn't expected a woman of her small stature to be so . . . forceful. He had barely gotten his trousers off before she had climbed on top of him, pinning him down with relentless enthusiasm, telling him she had seen him coming in her tea leaves.

Sirius wondered if she had known just how literal that would be.

At least he hadn't had to look for her. Trelawney had been waiting for him. She had been sitting at the bar talking to Aberforth when Sirius had come back downstairs with Hagrid, trying not to look like he hadn't just sucked off his half giant friend and used one of Aberforth's nicely folded towels to clean himself up with afterwards.

Aberforth had glared at him a bit as he had led Trelawney upstairs, but he would get over it. Sirius would make sure to leave a few extra galleons on the counter. For the noise, if nothing else.

"Oh! Oh, Sirius! Oh, my word! You truly are the brightest star in the sky!"

Sirius winced again. At this rate, everyone in Hogsmeade was going to know when Trelawney came.

And cum she did.

"Ah! Ah! Oh! Oh, my blessed heavens! Oh! It's wonderful! It is just as I foresaw!"

Sirius hadn't expected the sight of Sybill Trelawney's naked tits swinging in his face as her eyes closed in ecstasy to do it for him, but, suddenly, he was right at the edge, too. He thrust upward in rapid bursts, picking up the rhythm where she had left off when she had collapsed on top of him, biting his lip as he emptied himself into her Chamber of Secrets.

"Oh," Trelawney said, resting her head on his pounding chest, "oh . . . my word . . . that was . . . that was truly incredible."

"It really was something, wasn't it?" Sirius said, letting himself lie there for a moment, unable to move. He was vaguely aware of the sound of footsteps, coming quickly up the stairs.

Trelawney smiled at him, tracing some sort of pattern between his nipples. "I think we should definitely do that on a more regular-"

"Oi! Black!"

Oh, shit.

It was Aberforth, and he didn't sound happy.

"That's enough for today! You're scaring off all my customers!"

Sirius groaned, getting himself out from under Trelawney and reaching for another one of the nicely folded towels. "Oh, Aberforth! Keep your shirt on! We both know you haven't got any other customers!"

"I might have, if they hadn't been able to hear you carrying on like that all the way over at Zonko's!"

Sirius rolled his eyes, ducking over to the sink to clean himself up. Trelawney was still on the bed when he came back out, staring up at him with big eyes made even bigger by her glasses, looking like she would very much fancy another round. 

"Right then," Sirius said, picking up the last clean towel and tossing it her way, "this was fun, but you heard the man. We better make ourselves scarce."

Trelawney smiled, wrapping the towel around herself as she climbed off the bed, slipping an arm around him on her way to the bathroom. "Alright," she said slyly, "but you know where to find me. With Sinistra out on holiday for another few weeks, I've got full run of the Astronomy Tower in addition to my own classroom, if you'd ever like to . . . stargaze with me some more."

Sirius swallowed the lump in his throat and reached for his trousers, pulling them on as fast as he could and stumbling out the door, half tripping into Aberforth.

"Merlin's arse, Black, next time maybe cast a few noise blocking charms before you queue up half the village to use your wand."

Sirius smiled. "Is that jealousy I hear, old man? Want me to come back and take care of you next?"

Sirius ducked, laughing as Aberforth swatted at him.

He was halfway down the stairs when he heard Trelawney, calling to him from the room they had just desecrated, poking her head out of the door and waving his shirt at him. "Oh, Sirius! You forgot something!"

Sirius smiled, wiping at the rivulets of blood that had dried against the hair on his chest. "Why don't you hang onto it for me, love? Maybe my robe, too? I don't think I'll need either one for a bit; not where I'm headed next."

Sirius hurried back toward the castle, moving as fast as his legs would carry him. The sun was almost to the trees now. He really didn't have much time.

He walked faster, barging in through the doors outside of The Great Hall, scanning the faces he saw around him, but all of them belonged to students.

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Oh, fucking hell.

The rash mark thing was really burning now. He could feel it in his stomach, in his legs, and up somewhere in his arsehole. He staggered toward the moving staircases, bracing himself against the walls and reaching for the railings, all too aware of the throbbing erection in his trousers that was desperately trying to work itself free. Dear Lord, he had never felt turned on like this. He was really starting to understand what Hermione had meant when she had said the curse would consume them.

He had barely gotten to the second floor corridor when he had to stop, ducking into an alcove and bending over.

Jesus Christ.

This curse really was going to kill him.

"Sirius?"

Sirius stopped wincing. The voice had come from somewhere behind him.

He turned around slowly, and saw Flitwick, standing there with his face full of concern.

"Sirius? Are you alright? I heard you were looking for me."

"Filius! Oh, thank Merlin! Where the hell have you been, you bloody rascal?!"

Flitwick cleared his throat. "I was in the forest."

"The Forbidden Forest?"

"Goodness, no! The forest at the far edge of the lake, where the trees meet the hills. I go up there every so often, to clear my head and listen to the birds. It's really quite wonderful! You should try it sometime. I was actually just on my way back when I ran into Neville. He said you were in the midst of some dire circumstance."

Flitwick took a step forward, studying him. "It seems Mister Longbottom was right. You look like you're in trouble. How can I help?"

Sirius had to stop himself from picking Flitwick up and spinning him around in a fit of joy.

"Oh, Filius," he said, instead, "it's awful. Just awful. I've been cursed." 

"Ah, yes," Flitwick said, staring at the ever spreading red rash mark and the bulge at the front of Sirius' trousers. "I can see that."

"It's killing me, Filius. This damn thing is killing me."

"That is most unfortunate," Flitwick said, still staring at him. "So, how do we stop it?"

Despite the burning in his loins, Sirius grinned.

"Why, Filius," he said, straightening up, "I thought you'd never ask. It's quite simple really. To stop this curse, all you and I have to do is fuck."

Flitwick's mouth fell open. "Oh, I . . . Is that all?"

Sirius nodded. "One quick shag, and all my problems will go away."

Flitwick stood there for another moment, studying him. Then, he said, "Very well. You better come with me."

Sirius couldn't agree more. He stepped out of the alcove, following Flitwick down the second floor corridor, back toward the moving staircases.

"Isn't your office the other way?" Sirius asked.

Flitwick didn't turn around. "We aren't going to my office, not with you looking like that. Now," he said, very matter of factly, taking out his wand and pointing it at a suit of armor, casting some sort of spell that made it scurry out of the way, revealing a narrow opening in the stone wall beyond, "stay close, and follow me."

Sirius obeyed, squeezing himself into the narrow opening behind Flitwick, letting the little man guide him into the dark. They hadn't gone far when he heard music, something classical like his mother had always used to listen to. Wherever they were headed, he was pretty sure it wasn't anywhere that had ever shown up on the Marauder's Map.

"You know," Flitwick said, from somewhere ahead of him, "you'd be surprised how often something like this happens. Thankfully, after all these years, I am well prepared."

Sirius stopped as they came to a well lit room at the end of the passageway, gaping at what he saw. The room was small, but no less impressive. He felt like he was back in Charms class. All around him were magical objects he had never seen before; strange spheres and disks and complicated looking devices with wheels and cogs. Bookcases and tables and other pieces of furniture hovered in the air, turned on their sides, contents anchored firmly in-place. Elegant chandeliers hung suspended upside down from the ceiling, shifting and changing colors in the flickering light, made entirely of stained glass one moment and carved wood the next. 

In the middle of it all, floating a few inches off the ground, was a massive four poster bed.

Flitwick looked back at Sirius. "Do you like it?"

"Like it? Bloody hell, Filius," Sirius said, still looking around. "This is brilliant!"

Flitwick smiled. "Thank you. I am quite proud of it."

"I had no idea this was here."

"I do try to keep it a secret."

"What is this place?"

"Well," Flitwick said, taking out his wand, "I like to call it my workshop. Or my playroom. I do some of my best work in here."

Sirius raised an eyebrow, staring at the four poster bed. "And what sort of work is that?"

"Oh, get your mind out of the gutter, Black! Most of what I do in here involves Charms, but I do get the occasional visitor. You're not the first person at this school to be afflicted with a sexual curse, you know."

" . . . I'm not?"

"No, no," Flitwick said, "it happens all the time. After the tenth or so time I was propositioned, I decided to add some more robust noise blocking charms to this place, and bring in a bed."

"Good thinking," Sirius said. At this point, he felt like nothing would surprise him. "So, err, I don't have much time. Do you mind if we, err-"

Flitwick smiled. "I would love to."

Before Sirius could even reach for his trousers, Flitwick waved his wand, and both of their clothes disappeared.

Sirius grinned.

What a gentleman Flitwick was.

Sirius stood there naked for a moment, appreciating all he saw. Apparently, there were a few things that could still surprise him. 

One of them was currently dangling between Flitwick's legs.

Dear Lord. It's massive!

How the hell does he even walk around without tripping over it?

Sirius' eyes were still on Flitwick's magnificent cock, which was starting to stand at attention, when its owner said, "Now then, how would you like to proceed?"

"Oh," Sirius said, shifting his gaze back to Flitwick's eyes and giving him a playful grin, "I was really hoping you could take me with that thing you've got there."

Flitwick smiled.

"Well, in that case," he said, pointing his wand at a floating stool and snatching it out of the air as soon as it was in range, "I'll need this."

Flitwick positioned the stool at the edge of the bed and looked back at Sirius. "Please, if you will, make yourself comfortable."

With an eager stride, Sirius crossed the room and got on the bed, laying face down with his legs spread and his arse in the air, shaking a bit with anticipation.

This was it.

This was the moment he had waited for all day, and he was ready.

He could hear Flitwick behind him, preparing himself, climbing onto the stool and leaning over him, kissing him gently on his lower back.

"Are you ready?" Flitwick asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Sirius said, waiting patiently with his arse in the air.

"Good," Flitwick said, "because this is the part where I make you sing."

Sirius gasped, grabbing onto a pillow near his head, sinking his fingers into it as Flitwick entered him. Dear Lord, he really was massive. Sirius braced himself for the rest of the girth, but Flitwick went slow, taking him with careful, controlled thrusts, easing himself in deeper and deeper each time.

Sirius was glad him and Krum had already fucked. He was just loose enough to be ready for more.

And more there was. 

At least Flitwick seemed to be using some sort of lube.

Sirius kept a firm grasp on the pillow, using it to cover his mouth as wild moans began to escape his throat. Flitwick was leaning all the way over him now, reaching his arms around his sides and hanging on as he picked up his pace, thrusting into him harder and harder.

Sirius didn't know how long he was in that room. All he knew was that, the first time Flitwick made him come, he really did sing.

Hermione was worried. She walked toward the moving staircases with purpose, trying not to bite off all her fingernails. Sundown was less than thirty minutes away, the red mark was still burning and spreading all over her body, and she couldn't find Sirius. They had agreed to meet in The Great Hall at quarter to six, but he hadn't shown up. 

Hermione walked faster, taking the stairs two at a time, making sure they didn't shift too much beneath her feet. She had decided to head back to the library. It hadn't been practical to bring the book with her; she hadn't even been brave enough to unchain it from its shelf, but she needed it now. There must have been something she had overlooked; something else they had to -

Hermione jumped as Sirius Black appeared on the next landing, grinning from ear to ear, looking quite pleased with himself.

"Hermione! Guess what! I've just had one of the best shags of my life. You'll never believe where Flitwick took me, and I do mean took me, like I was his bloody plaything and he was my-"

Hermione grabbed Sirius by the shoulder. "You bloody idiot! Where the hell have you been?!"

"Like I said, I was with Flitwick. You should have seen the way he-"

"Sirius! You were supposed to meet me in The Great Hall!"

"Ah, right. Knew I had forgotten something."

"Do you know what time it is?"

"No, but, seeing as the rash thing is still all over me, I figured you could use a little more time to finish your part of the assignment."

"I did finish my part of the assignment, you dolt! I was really hoping you would be reliable enough to do the same!"

"What are you talking about? I finished, too! I fucked everyone whose name I picked."

Hermione frowned. "You . . . you did?"

"Yes."

"You had sex with all of them?"

"Yes!"

"You're sure?"

Sirius smiled. "It's okay to be impressed."

"You shagged Flitwick?"

"Technically, he shagged me. I didn't do much. I was just lying there, trying to survive his vigorous-"

"Oh, my God! I don't need details."

Sirius shrugged. "Your loss."

"You shagged Trelawney?"

"Yes, about the same time you were finishing up with Krum, I imagine. Do tell me, what was it he was whispering in your ear? Was it strange getting properly railed by your old sweetheart?"

Hermione shook her head, refusing to justify that question with a response.

"I shagged Hagrid, too, so you know," Sirius said. "Well, I mean, technically I just pleasured him orally while I took care of myself, but my genitals and his were both definitely involved. Did you shag Binns?"

Hermione nodded.

"Well done! Bloody hell, that's impressive! How did you even manage to-"

"I'd really rather not get into the specifics. Did you shag Neville?"

"Yes. Twice, actually."

"Twice?"

"Twice, yeah, he was lovely. I highly recommend having yourself a go with Neville."

"Sirius-"

"The second time, some students were coming, so we had to do it in the greenhouse where he keeps the mandrakes-"

"Sirius!"

"Don't worry. We used protection. Neville had plenty of ear plugs."

"Sirius!"

"What?!"

"Don't you get it, you daft idiot? If you've had sex with everyone you were supposed to, and I've had sex with everyone I was supposed to, and we've still got these marks, it means it didn't work! The curse is still consuming us! We are still going to die!"

"Oh, Hermione, stop being so dramatic. We aren't going to die."

"Yes, we are!"

"No, we're not," Sirius said. "Since we've already fucked everyone else in this bloody castle, I think it's pretty obvious what we have to do next."

"Oh, it is, is it?"

"Yes."

"And what's that?"

"We have to fuck each other."

Hermione's mouth fell open. Before she could say anything, there was a sudden sound of loud voices and doors opening behind them. Sirius reached out and took her hand, pulling her back toward the library as students flooded the corridor.

"Sirius, we can't-"

"We really don't have much of a choice, not if you want to live. You want to live, don't you?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"Then come on!"

Hermione followed Sirius, walking quickly, ducking around an old tapestry and stepping through an open doorway that had just appeared on the wall in front of them.

The sounds of the students faded as Sirius reached behind them, and closed the door.

Hermione looked around, walking forward slowly as light flickered from a group of torches mounted on the stone walls surrounding her. She couldn't remember the last time she had been in the Room of Requirement. It looked different. A lot different. The light coming from the torches seemed to be glowing red. She could see a roaring fireplace at the far end of the room with a bed in front of it, covered in plush looking pillows and fur blankets. Some sort of harness contraption hung suspended from the ceiling above. A bottle of what had to be champagne sat on a small table near the bed, with two fluted glasses and a plate filled with strawberries, but it was the cabinet in the corner that got her attention.

Hermione walked closer, studying the objects behind the cabinet's glass doors, trying to figure out what she was staring at.

"Oh, brilliant! I knew the room would provide! Look at that! It's given us sex toys!" Sirius said, striding up next to her and opening the cabinet doors, picking up a weird object made of hard rubber and handing it to her. "Isn't this lovely?"

"Err, I suppose," Hermione said, turning the strange object over in her hand. "What even is this?"

"A butt plug."

"A what?!"

"A butt plug! Don't tell me you've never used a butt plug. Here, take off your trousers and I'll show you how to-"

Hermione dropped the butt plug on the floor, gaping down at it in horror. "I am not shoving that up my arse!"

"Ah, okay. Suppose that's fair. Want to shove it up mine?"

"Sirius!"

"I'm being serious! Honestly, Hermione, you don't know what you're missing!"

Hermione shook her head, taking out her wand and using a levitation charm to place the butt plug carefully back on its shelf. "I'll just have to take your word for it."

"Fine, fine," Sirius said, turning toward the bed and fiddling with the buttons on the front of his trousers, "I suppose we can do this the old fashioned way."

Hermione stared at him for a moment as the curse burned against her skin, thinking again of what she had seen through the window of the shed; the way Sirius had looked when he had been on the receiving end of Krum's cock, face twisting with pleasure. It was probably just the curse making her feel this way, but she didn't mind. Suddenly, she wanted to see him make that face again, and she wanted to be the one who made him moan.

She watched as Sirius unbuttoned his trousers, letting them fall to the floor along with his pants. She hadn't gotten a very good look at his cock through the window of the shed. The thought of seeing it now excited her. She kept her eyes on him, waiting for him to turn around, unbuttoning her shirt and tossing it on the floor, stepping out of her trousers and standing there for a moment in her bra and knickers.

But Sirius didn't seem to notice what she was up to. He was too busy swearing.

"Fuck me, not now. Come on, you bloody fucking prick!"

"Err, Sirius? Everything alright?"

Sirius turned around, holding his very flaccid cock in his hands, cursing himself some more and shaking his head. "No. I'm afraid it's not."

He stood there another moment with his pants around his ankles, playing with himself to no avail. Hermione watched awkwardly as he swore at his cock again. He gave it a few more forceful tugs, then looked back at her.

"Sorry, Hermione. It's no use. Seems I'm a bit spent."

"Shit, alright, what do we do?"

Sirius smiled. "Don't worry. There's plenty of other ways for us to enjoy ourselves."

He kicked his pants and trousers to the side and went back over to the cabinet. "I think it's time for you to have yourself some fun."

Sirius looked back at her. "What do you think? Want to pick yourself out something nice? Or," he said, gaze shifting to the harness contraption that hung above the bed, "do you fancy something a bit more daring?"

Hermione shook her head. 

"You're ridiculous," she said, walking back up to the cabinet. "I'm definitely not trying out that harness."

"Alright, fine, well, hmmm, in that case, seeing as my prick's still out of commission, I say you close your eyes, reach in there, and see what you get."

Despite herself, Hermione grinned. "Fine, but, if I get the butt plug, you're the one who's using it."

"Deal!"

Hermione took a deep breath and closed her eyes, reaching slowly toward the cabinet and feeling her way across the shelves.

Not that . . . 

Not that . . .

Definitely NOT that . . . 

Oh, God, what did I just touch?

She stopped when she felt something firm and solid beneath her fingers; something she thought she had a lot of experience with from all the recent nights she had spent alone in her bedroom.

But, when she opened her eyes, she saw, with some horror, that she hadn't selected a vibrator.

"Oh, God," Hermione said, picking the strange contraption up and turning it over in her hands. It was a bit heavy. "What is this?"

Sirius smiled. "That's a strap-on."

"A . . . A what?"

"A strap-on!"

"I don't understand. Do I strap it on you or do I . . . Oh. Oh, God!"

"That's what I'll be saying, I'm sure. Here, let me show you how to-"

"I'm not putting this thing on!"

"Yes, you are! A deal is a deal. Come on, you're going to love it! I promise. If you don't, we can stop and try something else."

Hermione sighed. She had made a deal, and, to be honest, she was feeling sort of adventurous now. 

She held the strap-on out in front of her, with the hard rubber cock pointed at Sirius. He didn't seem to mind. He was still smiling.

"Here," he said, sounding excited, "let's go over by the fireplace, and I'll help you put it on."

Hermione followed him, enjoying the way the plush rugs in front of the hearth felt beneath her feet. "Should I take off my knickers or leave them on?"

Sirius shrugged. "It's up to you, but I think it will feel a lot better on your end if you get a little more friction."

Hermione liked the sound of that. With her free hand, she tugged down her panties and took off her bra.

"You're beautiful," Sirius said, gazing at her for a moment, "do you know that?"

Hermione grinned, leaning forward slowly, and kissing Sirius on the cheek. "I do, but it's always nice to hear it."

She held up the strap-on. "Shall we?"

"We shall," Sirius said, "here, let me see. You'll have to step into it. There you go, just like that. Right, now, let's tighten these up a bit."

Hermione stood there, surprised by the weight of the rubber cock that was now dangling from her front. She wondered if this was how men felt all the time. It was so strange. How the hell did they keep from running into things with it?

She held still for another moment, while Sirius made some adjustments to the straps that went around her legs, and then, she felt it - the pull of the fabric and the straps pressing against the inside of her thighs. But that wasn't all. It was -

"Err, Sirius," Hermione said, "it's . . . Err . . . The inside of it is vibrating!"

"Oh, brilliant! I was hoping it would! Is it comfortable?"

Hermione nodded. It was more than comfortable.

It was fucking amazing.

"Right then," said Sirius, grinning at her, "where would you like to-"

"Right here," Hermione said, reaching for Sirius and turning him around. "I want to take you right here."

She didn't have to see Sirius' face to know he was still grinning. The knowledge of it excited Hermione even more. She wrapped an arm around Sirius, kissing the back of his neck and prodding at him with the tip of the rubber cock, guiding him down to his knees, until he was in a position where she would be able to enter him easily.

Hermione stopped for a moment before she did, taking a breath and looking around until she saw what she needed. The room really had provided everything. She reached for a vial of lubricant that was sitting on the table with the champagne, applied it liberally, lined up her new appendage, and eased herself into Sirius.

Sirius moaned.

"I . . . Does that hurt?" Hermione asked.

"Quite the opposite. Dear Lord. Don't stop now! Keep going! After Flitwick, I'm nice and loose."

Hermione did as he said, pushing further into him, moaning a bit herself as the sensations from doing so combined with the pulse coming from the strap-on.

It took her a bit to get the rhythm, and the courage to move faster, but when she did, she quickly found she couldn't stop. She reached for Sirius, holding onto him as she fucked him with the rubber cock.

"Yes, yes! Like that," he said, starting to breathe harder, "dear Lord, just like that!"

Hermione kept up the rhythm, pumping her hips faster, feeling the force of her thrusts against her clit with every movement. Her grip on Sirius tightened. She closed her eyes, breathing hard and letting the room disappear, focusing on the heat building between her legs until the next moan from Sirius sent her over the edge.

Hermione gasped, falling forward onto Sirius, trying to keep up her rhythm as her first orgasm shook her. But, for a moment, there wasn't anything she could do, except let the feeling overwhelm her.

When it started to fade, she picked up her pace, and fucked Sirius until he was gasping, too, clutching the plush rug and falling forward, calling out her name in the flickering light.

Afterwards, when it was over, and they were both satisfied, they lay there together in front of the fire, holding each other and sharing the strawberries and the bottle of champagne, watching their red marks fade and disappear.

It was almost a week later when Hermione found herself alone in the library again, leaning over her copy of Using Your Wits and Your Charms. She was nearly done with it. She was almost on the last chapter.

Her eyes were still on the page in front of her when the library doors opened, and in walked Sirius Black.

Hermione smiled. "Finally feeling brave enough to come back and see me, huh?"

Sirius grinned. "I'd be lying if I told you otherwise. Do you have it?"

"I do," Hermione said.

She left a bookmark in Using Your Wits and Your Charms and reached down, opening her top drawer and taking out a book covered with dark leather. She set it on the counter and slid it over to Sirius. "Here you go. Everything you ever wanted to know about non-sexual soul bonds."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Non-sexual, you say? How appropriate. Does this mean you're back to your old ways?"

"Oh, I don't know about that," Hermione said. "I never was the type to forget things I've learned."

"I'll remember that, the next time I hear you've made another trip down to the broom shed."

Hermione blushed. "Well, I did keep the strap-on. I would hate to leave it lying around collecting dust."

"Good, yeah, maybe let Trelawney borrow it sometime. I think she would really love to-"

"I'm sure she would," Hermione said, "but I'm not sharing."

Sirius smiled. "Thanks for the book."

"Anytime. I'm always here to help, or, if you ever want to give what we did in the Room of Requirement another go . . . "

"I would like that," Sirius said, "so long as we don't get cursed again."

Hermione looked up. She could hear Peeves moving around somewhere upstairs, no doubt preparing to cause himself a little mischief.

She stood up, reaching for her wand and giving Sirius a mischievous grin. "Oh, Black, if I ever get cursed again, I promise you'll be the first to know."