Author's Note: This is a long, long, LONG overdue gift fic for one of my absolute favourite fan fic writers. She gave me the prompts "piano", "music hall", and the quote "That's going to leave a mark" and so this is the product. Gift for pelespen.
Thanks to my awesome beta, Amy, for looking this over for me.
Summary: She had lived with them for almost 2 years, and it had become very comfortable. The sexually-themed dreams she had suddenly started having, however, was quickly starting to change the way she looked at her two housemates.
"I think I'm harbouring sexual fantasies about Remus and Sirius."
Of all the descriptors Hermione Granger could place on firewhisky – and with her extensive vocabulary she certainly could come up with a few – the word 'projectile' would not have easily come to mind. However, as she calmly wiped the amber liquid from her face and waited for her wide-eyed, spluttering redheaded friend across the table to settle down from her impromptu show of oral prowess, Hermione mused on whether she shouldn't add that characteristic to the growing list she had developed over the years involving the fiery substance.
"You…think you're harbouring sexual fantasies about Remus and Sirius?" Ginny Weasley asked as incredulously as she could while wiping firewhisky from her chin.
Hermione pondered the scepticism in her friend's voice. At twenty-one years old, Hermione had spent the past year and a half living in Grimmauld Place with the two handsome Marauders and had come to be something of an honorary Marauder by virtue of her quick wit and subtly mischievous personality. She drank and traded mildly-sexual banter with Sirius, read in silence for hours with Remus, and kept house for two men who – while enjoying their bachelorhood – had never seemed to get the hang of housekeeping. The arrangement worked well for the three of them, and now, as it was approaching their second year together, it had become very comfortable.
The sexually-themed dreams Hermione had suddenly started having, however, was quickly starting to change the way she looked at her two housemates.
"Alright, I know I'm harbouring sexual fantasies about Remus and Sirius," she acquiesced after a contemplative sip of her own firewhisky. "I've been dreaming about them for weeks now."
"What types of dreams?" Ginny asked, her brown eyes sparkling slightly as she leaned across the kitchen table to grab another cherry from the bowl that was sitting between them.
Hermione arched an eyebrow.
"Eager much?" she asked.
Ginny gave a sigh, sitting back.
"It's just that…well, don't get me wrong, I love Harry to pieces, but…they're just so dishy."
Hermione chuckled, taking another sip of her drink as she leaned back against the high-backed kitchen chair, draping her legs over the curved mahogany arms.
"Well, you know how we bought that baby grand piano a few months back?" she started, her head tilted up as she thought back to her first, rather heated dream involving one of the two Marauders.
"Yes," Ginny replied.
"Well, I had this one dream where Remus was playing it – something moody and dark, like a Beethoven sonata or something – and I walk in and I'm listening to him play. And then suddenly – I really don't remember how – but suddenly he's playing me. Those long, gorgeous fingers are…well…you can use your imagination, I suppose," she finished, having the good grace to blush as Ginny sat at rapt attention.
"The man does have beautiful hands," the redhead agreed.
Hermione smiled to herself, her treacherous brain taking her to the way Remus would almost stroke the pages of the book he was reading as he turned a weathered piece of parchment, his tongue lapping out to lick his index finger to ease the process. An involuntary shiver passed down her spine at the thought.
"And Sirius?" Ginny asked eagerly, her chair scraping the flagstone floor as she scooted closer to the table, leaning in conspiratorially to hear the sordid details of Hermione's admittedly overactive imagination.
"Well, it was just Remus for a few nights – you know, with his delicious fingers – but then a few weeks ago, Sirius came home drunk from the pub," Hermione said. "He was so adorable and he kept flirting with me – winking and shooting me that ridiculous smirk of his, you know the one. Anyway, Remus and I were up in the library when we heard him stumble in, and we helped him into bed, only he pulled me down beside me and wrapped his arms and legs around me so I couldn't move. Remus helped disentangle me, of course, and we had a great laugh after, but that night I dreamed that…oh, it's silly, really…" she trailed off.
"Tell me!" Ginny hissed, her own cheeks pinking as a small smirk crossed Hermione's face.
"Have you ever seen someone dance the Argentine tango?"
Ginny shook her head.
"Well, it's…it's probably the sexiest dance I've ever seen," Hermione explained. "My parents took ballroom dancing lessons when I was younger, and I was so fascinated by it that they enrolled me in dancing lessons soon after. I used to watch the older students dance and…well…the way the women would wrap themselves around their partners…it wasn't until I was older, of course, that I realized the sexual nature of the dance, but at that point the fascination was fixed."
Ginny's eyes glazed slightly.
"I'm sure Sirius is a divine dancer," she breathed.
"In my dream, he was," Hermione replied with a smile. "Both vertically and horizontally."
They both sat for a moment in silence, caught up in the images of the sexy raven-haired animagus dancing through their heads.
"So what are you going to do about these fantasies?" Ginny finally asked, refilling her glass before pouring a generous portion into the Hermione's half-empty tumbler.
"Oh, I didn't tell you the best part," Hermione said, gratefully accepting the drink.
Ginny's eyes widened comically.
"Last night, I had a dream where…well…Sirius's dancing and Remus's talented fingers were involved."
Luckily, the brilliant bookworm had enough wherewithal to shift as Ginny coughed and spluttered again in surprise.
"Both of them? At the same time?" Ginny asked in wonderment.
"But…both of them?"
Hermione bit her tongue in order to avoid revealing to the youngest Weasley that she wasn't a complete stranger to the inner workings of a threesome. Her unforgettable experience in Professor Snape's Potions cupboard on her birthday fifth year with the young Weaslette's older twin brothers had been an incident she held close to her heart.
"There's something delightfully naughty about it, don't you think?" Hermione asked, her hazel eyes sparkling.
"I…well…I really wouldn't know," Ginny replied.
Hermione shrugged, downing the rest of her glass and letting her head fall back against the top of the chair.
"Not that it matters," she said matter-of-factly. "Neither Remus nor Sirius would look at me twice under normal circumstances, so I suppose I'd best become friends with my WonderWitch toys."
"I don't know, Hermione. Two gorgeous, straight men living alone in a big house with a beautiful younger witch? It's the type of stuff romance novels are made of."
Hermione arched her eyebrow.
"What types of romance novels are you reading?"
"I'm just saying, don't discount yourself. I guarantee you, those two have enough tricks up their sleeves that they may surprise you."
Hermione scoffed as she pushed her glass towards Ginny, motioning for a refill.
"Not bloody likely, but thank you for the ego boost all the same."
"Anytime. Now, tell me more about this dream of yours…"
Unbeknownst to the two chatting witches, on the other side of the kitchen door a raven-haired animagus shot a lecherous smirk to a blushingly bewildered werewolf before the two slinked away to plot in private.
Hermione yawned as she stepped through the floo in the kitchen the following evening, running her hand through her unruly curls and stretching out her protesting limbs. Due to the rapidly-approaching new year, it had been an extraordinarily trying day, with constant, inane interruptions from people who seemed intent on bothering her for stupid details. She supposed this was the prerogative of the junior associate in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, especially since she was in line for the job of Deputy Head of the Department once Gunther Grubherd retired, but it didn't stop her from being slightly frustrated by her underlings.
As she dropped her attaché case on the table in the foyer, she paused. The soft tinkling of piano keys drifted into her ears, and her eyes immediately narrowed as she recognized the tune. Stalking upstairs, she went straight to the library – the location Sirius had thought most appropriate for the new toy – and threw open the door with the intent of yelling loudly at Ginny for taking advantage of a secret unwisely divulged in a drunken night of girl talk.
Her jaw dropped, however, at the sight before her.
Remus sat at the piano, utterly absorbed in the movement of his own hands upon the beautiful ivory keys. His piece of choice – Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata – lent a haunting, pining, eerily-appropriate air to the room. Hermione held her breath as she watched him, his fingers upon the instrument so graceful and yet – in her mind – too unbelievably sexy for words.
"May I have this dance, Miss Granger?" a deep voice rumbled against her ear, and Hermione jumped slightly as she felt Sirius's tall, lean body brush against her back. She had barely had time to collect her thoughts before she was being spun into a hard, muscular body, large hands supporting her lower back and holding her arm aloft as she was walked gracefully into the library.
"What's going on?" she whispered, her senses starting to kick into overdrive as she was suddenly surrounded by a scent that was uniquely Sirius.
"Moony's playing the piano, and we're dancing. I thought it was fairly self-explanatory, kitten," Sirius breathed in her ear, the endearment he had conjured for her so long ago slipping from his tongue and moulding to her brain in a mind-melting cocoon.
"Yes, I was able to work that much out for myself, thanks," she managed to say indignantly, though the way he held her to his frame had her thinking of anything but indignation.
"I do love dancing," Sirius whispered, spinning them gracefully as their legs moved smoothly on what she was slowly realizing as hardwood. Taking a moment to reassess her surroundings, Hermione began to comprehend that this whole situation was planned, as the furniture was moved to the side and the carpet rolled up.
"Decided you needed a ballroom instead of a library?" Hermione asked as the music slowly started to change to something a bit darker.
"I just wanted to reminisce a bit. I was looking through my journal and came across a rather interesting entry involving a music hall in the barrios of Buenos Aires and a young woman named Ana Maria."
A smile started to play on Hermione's lips as she recognized the tune Remus was playing.
"A tango dancer?" she teased as she felt her body automatically shift into position.
"Yes," Sirius breathed as he dipped her back.
It had been years since Hermione had danced like this with anyone, but the steps seemed to come immediately to mind as Sirius moved with her, his body lean and wiry and his grey eyes locked on her burning hazel. Every so often, Hermione would glance at Remus, whose amber eyes were fixed on the moving pair while his hands moved of their own accord. Hermione felt a thrill shoot up her spine every time she caught a glimpse of those glorious fingers.
"Is this what you wanted, kitten?" Sirius breathed in her ear as she swung her leg around his. "Or do you want something a little more…intimate?"
He pulled her closer and she gasped as she felt the outline of a distinctive hard muscle against her thigh. Turning her head to look into his eyes, she saw lust burning there. She was so caught up with it that she didn't even notice that the music had stopped completely.
"You can say 'no', Hermione," Remus's raspy voice sounded in her ear as his fingers splayed over her hips. "We would understand if you're not ready."
"Not ready?" Hermione breathed almost uncomprehendingly, turning to face the silly man who deigned to ask such a preposterous question. "Remus, I've been waiting for one or both of you to ravish me since the moment I moved into this house."
Remus gave a hungry, feral growl and before Hermione knew what was happening his lips were on hers. She was surprised to find him so aggressive, considering she knew his personality to be so gentle. But his kiss possessed her. Lips and tongues and teeth moved together until she had to pull away from sheer breathlessness.
Somewhere along the line, Sirius had moulded himself to her back, holding her up as Remus kissed her into oblivion. Turning to face the dark-haired man, Hermione gazed up into those silver-grey eyes she adored and smirked when she saw a mixture of pure desire and jealousy.
"Wanna taste?" she teased, feeling Remus's arms coil gently around her waist as she stood on her tip-toes to reach Sirius's lips.
"You minx," he chuckled before lowering his lips to hers.
Hermione – in the brief moment of coherence she managed to grasp before the overwhelming lust within her shut down all thought processes – found it interesting that the personalities of the two men seemed to switch in their kissing styles. While Remus was aggressive and breath-taking, Sirius was tender and sweet. His lips moved softly over hers, caressing her and stealing her breath away in another manner entirely different from Remus. Hermione assumed Sirius had a way of knowing just what exactly a witch needed from him at any particular point, but she was amazed with just how attuned to her both men were.
Sirius continued making love to her mouth but her body was shifting almost restlessly against the tall, broad build of the werewolf behind her. His hands, which had been resting around her waist as he allowed her time to appreciate Sirius's talents, seemed to acknowledge this restlessness as they slid slowly up her sides, curving over her breasts before resting gently on her shoulders.
"So you want both of us, little girl?" he whispered in her ear as Sirius's lips descended up on her neck, nipping and breathing on the sensitive skin and causing her to shudder.
"Yes," she hissed as Sirius nipped at her pulse point, his tongue lapping out to lave the tiny red mark as Remus's hands slid from her shoulders to unbutton the prim white blouse she had worn to work.
"Such a proper blouse for such a deviant mind," Remus teased as he bit down gently on her earlobe, his fingers brushing her skin with each button her unhooked.
"Rip the bloody thing, I don't care, just touch me," Hermione gasped, her head tilting back onto Remus's shoulder as Sirius's lips found the hollow just above her chest.
She was slightly startled when Remus did exactly that, the cream-coloured fabric falling in tatters to the floor, leaving her moderately exposed between two fully-clothed men.
"Dear Merlin, Hermione," Sirius whispered as Remus's hands splayed across her bare stomach, moving slowly northward toward the lacy burgundy bra she wore. "Where on earth have you been hiding this hot little body of yours?"
Hermione couldn't form a coherent response as Remus's fingers slid beneath the fabric of her bra to cup her breasts, the pads of his fingers gently teasing her straining nipples as Sirius moved up her neck to catch her lips in a kiss of renewed passion.
The men worked in synch, Remus caressing the soft globes of flesh while Sirius slid his hands around to unhook the bra, using his teeth to bring it down her shoulders and letting it slip down her arms to join her shirt on the hardwood floor. Hermione watched as he gazed at her, taking in her upper body and watching as his best friend's hands covered and manipulated her shuddering body into submission.
"What do you want now, Hermione?" Remus whispered as his hands stilled and Sirius went back to placing infuriatingly unsatisfying butterfly kisses up and down her neck.
"God, I want someone to touch me…"
Sirius's chuckle vibrated against her skin and she felt another thrill of pleasure race across her nerve endings.
"We are touching you, kitten," he said.
"Not where I want you to," she almost whined, her knees buckling slightly as Remus's fingers gave a light flick over her nipple.
"And where do you want us to touch you, love?" he asked.
But she couldn't say it. She was right there, standing between two gorgeous men, both prepared to do whatever she asked of them, and she couldn't verbally express the fact that she wanted them to touch her "down there." For a moment she felt embarrassed and horribly juvenile about the whole situation, but then she closed her eyes, willed back some of the Gryffindor courage she put aside for just such an occasion, and turned to face Remus.
"I want your beautiful fingers playing my clit and cunt like you played that piano," she said, trying to keep her voice steady as she looked him in the eye.
A slow, smug grin passed across the werewolf's weathered face.
"Your wish is my command, princess," he growled before he was sinking to his knees, his hands leaving her breasts to trail down her stomach. His palms lay flat against her slightly rounded belly – the "baby fat" she just couldn't seem to get rid of – and he placed a kiss next to her belly-button.
"He can smell you, you know," Sirius said into her ear as his own hands slid up to cup her breasts, his fingers gently pulling and plucking at the tender flesh as they both watched Remus slowly unbutton her trousers. "There were nights when he would just stand in front of your door, taking deep breaths and willing the control not to go in and just take you."
Hermione felt a surge of arousal at the thought of Remus bursting into her room in the middle of the night to take her hard and rough until she begged.
"What about you?" she asked the animagus, whose focus seemed just as fixed as hers upon the werewolf's slow, calculated movements, bringing the trousers down her legs and allowing her to kick them to the side, leaving her in nothing more than lacy burgundy panties that had – before its removal – matched her bra.
"Me? Well, kitten, let's just say that my hand has had a lot more exercise since you've lived with us."
His words once again inspired another wave of arousal as she thought of Sirius, naked, lying in his bed with his hand wrapped around his hard cock, moaning her name as he thrust.
"Shame you never asked me to do anything about it," she said, bringing her hand behind her to cup his cock through his jeans, causing him to groan. "I would have gladly made the process a little easier for you."
"Good to know," he growled, bringing one of his hands down to join hers and guiding her into his jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping the fabric to aid in the process. His breath hitched as she came into contact with hard flesh – silk-covered steel – and a smug little smirk crossed her face as she slowly started to pump her hand.
The smile melted, however, when Remus – who had somehow divested her of her panties while she wasn't looking – locked eyes with her as a single, long digit slid along her soaking slit to softly caress her aching clit. It was a simple movement – hardly a movement at all, really, - but the shudder that raced through her body made her knees buckle. Sirius, in spite of his own pleasure, kept her in place as his fingers drew slow, lazy circles along the undersides of her sensitive breasts.
"Again…" Hermione hissed, gazing down at Remus through hooded eyes, her attention locked on him as he started to play her body like the Steinway that sat just feet from the three of them. First one finger, then two entered her body, slowly pumping in and out of her while his thumb rested on her clit, flicking occasionally to elicit a delicious moan from her.
His other hand – after releasing himself from his own trousers – went skittering slowly over her bottom, his fingers moving to where she was quickly realizing she wanted them to be. Out of instinct, her grasp on Sirius's not-unimpressive erection tightened, causing the man to growl.
"Kiss me," Sirius demanded, turning her face before she could respond and kissing passionately just as Remus worked at the tight muscle of her arse. She gave a little squeal but Sirius was unrelenting and it wasn't until she felt a smooth, slick sensation soothing her that she realized Remus had intended for her to be distracted so he could work her into submission.
It was then that it hit her. Sirius's slow, lazy, deliberate circles, Remus's steady, pumping fingers, Sirius's breath-taking kiss, Remus's talented manipulation of her arse – they had all been pushing her slowly, mind-blowingly, toward an avalanche of sheer pleasure that toppled over her with such veracity that for a moment she couldn't breathe. Her nerve endings were singing, her fingers and toes were tingling, and deep within her, the build that had been so quiet in spite of the constant attention exploded into a million colours and sounds.
It took her a second to realize that she was shaking, or that both men were frozen around her as she came down from her high.
"Are you alright?" Remus asked worriedly, looking up at her without a shred of primal instinct in his eyes, replaced instead by concern.
Uncomprehending as to why either man could think that the most intense orgasm of her life could be anything but alright, Hermione leaned over and kissed Remus deeply, trying to convey all of her gratitude for the man as she consumed him with her lips. As she kissed him, she pulled him to his feet, pushing him back slightly. Stumbling, his back hit the piano and he pulled away from her to look at her in confusion. She was done playing, however, and she looked over her shoulder to an unmoving Sirius, her eyes glinting with lust.
"Fuck me. Now," she demanded, bending over so her head was level with the werewolf's trousers but her arse in perfect line with Sirius's bobbing erection.
The animagus arched an eyebrow.
"Demanding little thing, aren't you?"
"Sirius!" Remus growled, his breath catching and his eyes rolling back as Hermione lowered her lips onto his straining cock. He tasted musky and salty, but clean, and as she relaxed her throat and took more of him into her mouth, she felt his grip on her curls tighten.
"Sweet Circe, princess," Remus breathed, and Hermione smirked, slowly starting to move up and down the werewolf's long cock.
Sirius, not to be outdone, ran a finger down her back before gripping her hips and entering her with a swift thrust, the movement almost causing Hermione to choke as she felt herself stretched in a way that she hadn't felt before.
"Merlin, you're tight," Sirius groaned, his grip on her hips tightening as he held himself, allowing her to get used to his girth while willing his own self-control into place. Hermione's nails dug into Remus's thighs as she swirled her tongue around his cock, sucking hard at the tip and receiving a harsh cry from the man in response.
Sirius started to move and Hermione had to hang on for dear life as the pureblood thrust hard and fast into her pliant body. Her own movements up and down Remus's dick were erratic at best, but the man didn't seem to mind and it wasn't long before he was tugging at her hair and crying her name, his hot release finding its way down her throat.
Clawing her way up his shirt, Hermione kissed Remus deeply as Sirius continued to pound into her, her breasts bouncing against the werewolf's body as he held her steady. She would have never admitted to anyone that she loved rough sex, especially her exes, all of whom had been the romantic, flower-petals-and-silk-sheets types who had been slightly intimidated by her sexuality.
But she did. She loved it. And Sirius seemed to know that.
"God! I'm cumming!" she cried as she gripped the piano on either side of Remus, the man holding her shoulders and leaning in to kiss her as her cheeks flushed and her back arched. Sirius wrapped an arm around her waist, bending over her as he thrust, his cheek pressed against her back as he rode through her orgasm.
Hermione cried out as the coil that had been building within her once again snapped, sending shooting pleasure to every nerve ending in her body. She felt like she was floating, or flying, in a land of pure, unadulterated pleasure. Her body shuddered, her inner walls clamping down around Sirius's pumping cock and causing the man in question to cry out in his own pleasure, spilling spurt after hot spurt into her body as his hips jerked into hers.
It took a few seconds, but the three managed to collapse on the floor without injuring themselves. Hermione lay curled between the two men, all of them breathing heavily as the silence of the night surrounded them.
"Well," she finally said. "That's going to leave a mark tomorrow."
"Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it, though."
"Oh, I did immensely. In fact, I should have private talks in the kitchen with Ginny more often then, eh?"
Remus had the good grace to blush.
"We…er…didn't mean to eavesdrop," he said, avoiding her eye as he sat up, all bravado gone now that their tryst was ended.
"He didn't mean to eavesdrop," Sirius said with a grin, completely unashamed. "I was listening for evidence of your sex life, and did I ever make out in spades."
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"And why were you so curious about my sex life?" she asked, though the smile she was trying to hide was slowly creeping up onto her face.
"Well, not so much listening for evidence of your sex life as much as trying to find a way to ingratiate myself into it. Worked out, though. Can't wait for the next round."
"That's if you want to," Remus added quickly.
"Boys, you have fulfilled one of my deepest fantasies. I don't know how I could ever repay you."
Sirius's eyes brightened.
"Well, I have this fantasy, see, and it involves a French maid uniform and handcuffs…"
"Sirius!" Remus hissed, shooting his presumptuous friend a glare.
Hermione smirked, standing up.
"You provide the French maid outfit," she said, winking at Remus. "I'll bring the handcuffs."
Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it!