Growing - Harry Potter fandom fic - Snape / Hermione mutual gain

Discussion in 'Fantasy/Science Fiction Archive' started by Fat Molly, Aug 25, 2014.

  1. Nov 15, 2015 #61

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

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    Chapter 44

    Chapter Text

    They soon were in Hogsmeade. Hermione met up with Neville promptly after class. Severus let her know that he'd meet them there.

    And so it was with trepidation that the two colleagues walked to Hogsmeade, hand in trembling hand.

    It had just begun to snow - not very hard, just a light dusting. It melted even before it landed on the ground. Hermione did notice, though, that Neville was prone to shivering. He was wearing several layers of clothing, and what looked like two mufflers, and even still he clutched his briefcase tightly to him as though it could help insulate him better.

    "Poor dear," Hermione said, and wrapped her arm around him. Her hip came closer to his, until it softly squished into his bony thigh. Her plump love-handles filled in some of the space between his rickety bones and her own, and she felt him breathing fitfully.

    "Poor both of us," Neville said, trying in vain to keep his teeth from chattering. "We're both about to be skewered, 'Mione."

    Despite the fact that the very thought of getting skewered by Severus Snape made a blush of desire rise on Hermione's cheeks, she maintained her dignity and brushed her bushy hair back off of her forehead with a gentle gloved hand. "You're making such a fuss," she said, and then she stopped under the first streetlight of Hogsmeade It was glowing with purple and yellow fairy lights, and the next lantern ahead of them was lit up in green and orange. The lights inside moved, and the effect was rather like looking at light reflected off of a swimming pool - it moved gently and bumblingly, illuminating the area in beautiful unearthly colors.

    "Are you sure you're all right to do this?" asked Hermione seriously, staring into Neville's eyes. Granted, she was partly making an excuse to stop, since she was already quite out of breath from their brief walk uphill to Hogsmeade. "We don't have to do it. You can go back if you want to."

    "No," Neville said, with gritted teeth. There was determination in his face, and she knew she wouldn't be able to dissuade him even if she didn't think it was the best thing. As it happened, she thought that doing this was, indeed, the best thing for them - but she couldn't be certain. "I'm doing it."

    "Great," Hermione said, "then stop complaining about it." She pulled his hand and kept walking along the path, letting the lights dance across their faces as they went.

    "It's bloody Severus Snape," moaned Neville, but there was something sporting about his complaining, Hermione now realized. It was somewhat for show, but also to cover up how terrified Neville was. "I'll complain as much as I bloody well please."

    "Then you won't be getting any dessert," Hermione said stiffly, and the threat worked like a charm.

    Oh yes. Whatever trouble Neville had been having with his appetite was gone now. Or at least, he had an increased interest in food. Hermione blushed with pride and the heat of desire as Neville stopped them. Abruptly, he put his hand on the back of her head, and he pressed his lips against hers.

    And then, for the first time since that doomed night in the gazebo, he kissed her deeply.

    Hermione felt her head spin. Neville had been mostly too ill to even think about anything other than gentle cuddling for the duration of their new relationship. This... this was new. And foretold good things.

    And there was a spark of vitality in his kiss that made her nearly swoon in excitement. The way he moved his tongue around her mouth, it was unagile and unpracticed, but the way he curled his tongue under hers, the way he sucked her lower lip, the way he pressed against her so forcefully... Kissing Neville was so different than Snape. Snape was languid, sensual, and erotic in how he approached kissing her. But there was also a sense of lackadaisicalness sometimes, a sort of affected indifference. Not always, of course - there were times when he was incredibly possessive and needy, and then his kisses lost that sense of feline coldness in favor of a more feral approach.

    But kissing Neville was altogether different. Perhaps the best comparison would be between a Labrador retriever and a cat. Neville's kissing of her was earnest and wholehearted. She had no doubt that he was, in that moment, wholly realizing their kiss. It wasn't nearly as sensual as kissing Snape, but then again, it didn't have to be. So much was communicated in just the way Neville's tongue curled around hers, a sense of warmth and affection that seemed impossible for Severus to emanate.

    It felt good.

    And it felt even better to know that her enjoyment of Neville's kiss was completely sanctioned in the context of her relationship with Severus.

    Indeed, Hermione nearly felt faint at the knowledge that she had won the admiration of two very different men.

    She felt, immediately, like she didn't deserve it. Her mood suddenly plummeted, and as it did, her engagement with Neville stopped. She lowered her head and, taking a deep breath, she pressed her face into Neville's shoulder.

    "Why do you like me?" she murmured, feeling despondent. "I don't... I don't understand at all."

    "Hermione," said Neville, clearly uncertain of what to say or do. He drew his arms carefully around her, and then pulled her tightly against him. She felt slightly uncomfortable, given how little meat there was on him, but she reciprocated, wrapping her arms around his barely convex middle. Only his many layers of clothes made him at all bearable to hug for comfort.

    Then again, his grasp was strong and firm around her, and she felt his fingers kneading slightly at her love-handles. He was tentative, exploring. It certainly didn't seem like his preference, but he did seem like he was receptive to figuring out what on earth she liked about being a bigger person.

    "You're the most brilliant witch or wizard I know," Neville said, and Hermione felt him rocking slightly, and she swayed along with him. "And it's an honor to be with you. How could anyone not like you?"

    "Thank you," she said, and she sighed. She felt like he hadn't said what she needed to hear.

    And fortunately, Neville was quick enough to read her.

    "Is there something else bothering you?" he asked softly, and he pressed a kiss into her soft buttery cheek.

    "I mean," Hermione said, and sighed. She buried her face thoroughly in his shoulder. His woolen robe was rough against her face, but it smelled warm and comforting. He didn't use any cologne that she could tell, but he smelled neutral and good, like cake batter or beeswax. "I wish people bothered to tell me something other than how smart I am. I'm... a bit burned out on it."

    She hadn't even realized it herself until she said it. The words hung heavy in the darkness that surrounded them, interrupted only by the flaring fairy-lights that moved across the shadows.

    "Well," Neville said, and he was clearly trying to scounge up something else to say. "I... well, 'Mione, you're so much more than your mind. You've... you've got such kindness in you. Such - such love. Including for those who don't normally get a lot of love from the world."

    "What," Hermione snorted, taking a deep breath. "You mean houselves?"

    "Yes," Neville said, "but also Snape."

    She pulled away from him just enough to look into his eyes. There was just a bit of bitterness there, but mostly admiration.

    "You think it's testament of me being *good,* me being with him?" Hermione asked. "I do want you to know, Neville, that the thought hasn't crossed my mind. Please don't think of my relationship with Severus as one where I'm trying to fix him, or something."

    "Oh, but aren't you?" Neville asked, and there was a sadness in his eyes. "Isn't this what you're doing with me? Fixing me?"

    "I... that makes it sound as if the humanity is taken out of my relationships with you both," Hermione said, though her conversation with McGonagall weighed heavily in the back of her mind. "Both of you deserve to be loved, and loved without the indignity of the assumption that I know how to fix either of you."

    She looked around them, looking back from whence they'd come. The cobblestone path to the castle was broken in places after years of poor curatorship, and also the recent battle. The trees were barren and cold in the darkness, and shook in the wind.

    "I don't want you to feel like I'm trying to fix you," she added, "I want to be helpful to you, but only so much as you yourself want."

    "But what if I can't help but feel like I'm just a project?" Neville asked, and she saw that there were tears in his eyes. They were brimming, but hadn't come to spill down his face yet.

    "You're just going to have to trust me," said Hermione, "and take what I say at face value. Otherwise..."

    She pressed her hand against his chest, and she leaned in closer, looking down. "Otherwise this can't continue."

    "I... is it all right if we say it's a work in progress, then?" Neville asked, after bated breath. "Taking you at face value?"

    "Certainly we can," Hermione said. And she reached up and kissed Neville on his wan cheek. "Human relationships are complex and mysterious things. I don't expect you to be inhuman."

    "All right," Neville said, in what sounded like a satisfied grumbly way, and he clasped his arms around her one last time. "Then let's get on to the pub, shall we?"

    "Yes," Hermione said, and she looked up at him. He seemed a bit more copacetic now, and she was glad to see that the worry seemed partially erased from his face. "Let's go."
     
  2. Nov 15, 2015 #62

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

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    Severus was waiting for them at the pub in Hogsmeade. There wasn't a sign of worry on his face, but Hermione could see the way that he stood abruptly at the arrival of Hermione and Neville, the way he pulled out Hermione's chair (carefully positioned so that he would be on one side of her and Neville would be on the other), and the way he settled down at the table... no one who didn't know him intimately would have seen anything amiss. Even so, Hermione hadn't a clue what was going on in his poor head. It was probably gnawing at itself over and over again, each moment growing more and more obsessed with the dramatic melodrama that fueled it.

    She nearly rolled her eyes as she noticed how jittery he was, but that would be far from kind, much less polite, so she simply kissed him on the cheek, letting her lips linger close to his ear.

    "Thank you, my love," she said in a low voice, feeling the warmth of his face. He was so physically hot. It was... interesting. Not the first time she'd noticed it, but perhaps it was more noticeable after being so close to Neville the past several minutes.

    She laid her lips against his cheek again just once more, letting the slightest bit of tongue touch his skin, and she caught the faintest hint of a shiver in him.

    "Please," he said with a self-assured rumble, "sit."

    She took the chair that was so graciously proffered, and Neville, looking as if he were once again confronting Nagini's snake, sat next to her.

    "I took the liberty of ordering firsts," Severus said, "mostly out of impatience."

    He was in a bit of a mood, Hermione observed the way he drew out his s sounds was one he only used when his patience was being tried on many levels.

    "Are we late?" Hermione asked, glancing around them for a clock.

    "Rather," said Severus, and she saw him lean back in his chair. Her eyes trained on his, and she saw in his eyes such a fearful pain that it nearly consumed her to merely glance into it.

    "I... I'm sorry," Hermione said, though still confused slightly. "I didn't realize we were that off."

    She glanced at Neville, who was frowning at his pocket watch, and he hastily put it away.

    Neville was a lot more transparent. Something was wrong, and Hermione suspected what it was based purely on Neville's body language.

    "I think we've had an issue of miscommunication about time," Hermione said, and in the same breath, Neville said, "I think this was a bad idea."

    "No," responded Severus with a low grumble. He rose with an abrupt motion. "I'll be back presently," he said, and there was no emotion visible in his eyes. He was, Hermione guessed, trying to get himself under control. But was it going to require her intervention, or was he going to be all right for the dinner?

    Perhaps this had been an ill-fated plan. Perhaps she was indeed too greedy, trying to have more than one man to indulge her desires.

    She watched as Severus stalked off to the lavatory, and she glanced at Neville. He was getting up.

    No, she told herself, she needed to stop telling herself she didn't deserve this. She realized that this was part of the package, part of the blessing and curse that was engaging in multiple consensual relationships. It was a balancing act, and once it was calibrated, it would be exquisite. But to get to that point would require training and hard work.

    This wasn't going to end if she had anything to say about it. It might not be pleasant to do a simple dinner, but they were going to do this. They'd planned it. Hermione couldn't imagine behaving like this when Erika would come to town.

    Then again, the boys hadn't even exchanged a single sentence with each other and they were already falling apart. Would she really, actually, be copacetic when Erika came in from the States?

    She knew she needed to not have confidence that she could be better.

    But she also needed to know that they all did their best to try. If they all wanted this, they should at least give it their best effort.

    "Please," Hermione said, and pressed her hand into Neville's shoulder. Not much given to fighting at this stage in his illness, even though he was doing much better, he simply settled back down into the chair and sighed. "Don't go. Not yet. We haven't even started."

    "*He* left," Neville said, and there was such venom in his voice that Hermione was startled. She leaned down and looked into Neville's eyes. He was glowering at the door into which Severus had disappeared.

    What an impossible situation. Hermione sighed.

    "Then show him you're better than that," Hermione said desperately, and then gathered herself up and hastened to the door where Severus was.

    She pressed her ear against the door and listened, half expecting a rampage of glass and other things breaking, but instead she heard nothing but silence. There were no sounds. There was nothing indicating that Severus was even still in there. She knocked, and heard no answer. She knew he probably hadn't apparated, but she was beginning to consider the possibility more seriously when he opened the door and she practically fell into his arms.

    "Sorry," she murmured, grasping his forearm for support. "Are you all right?"

    "Perfectly," Severus responded, and he indeed seemed like he had a renewed sense of self control. "I'm sorry for my absence, but was it so long that you had to seek me out?"

    "I just..." Hermione began, and sighed. "I'm concerned you're repressing everything."

    "Repressing what?" he asked, and there was a coldness and ambivalence in his voice that made her heart grow still with sadness. Whatever he'd been feeling, it was far out of her reach for the moment. At least their dinner was safe, though she knew it'd be a bit rushed on all their parts - Severus because he was holding himself barely together, Neville because he hated Snape so much, and Hermione because she just wanted to shout at them and bring them to their senses.

    But she truly did understand that would not work very well, so she just grasped Severus' hand warmly and escorted him to the table.

    Neville was picking slightly at the appetizer that had landed on the table - a steamed artichoke, dismantled and arrayed like a flower around a beautiful creamy sauce. He'd taken one leaf and was chewing the tip thoughtfully. He hastily put it down once he saw the couple returning to the table.

    "We, erm, are staying, I take it?" Neville asked, hesitantly reaching for another artichoke leaf.

    "Of course," Hermione said with forced cheerfulness. This was going to be difficult, but she realized they'd gotten past the critical point of failure. They were embarking on this difficult adventure for sure now. "Now please, be a dear, and pass me some of that."

    Neville did her that small favor, and Severus just grunted his approval when Hermione pushed the plate towards his direction.

    The three of them scanned their menus awkwardly, not saying anything to each other at all.

    Then, once the waitstaff took their orders, they sat in silence until Neville, trying to adjust in his seat, accidentally passed gas.

    His entire face flushed red, and he looked between Hermione and Severus, trying to decide who was going to shame him the most, Hermione read. She wondered every day why Neville hadn't been sorted into Hufflepuff, but perhaps his Gryffindor judgmental streak was something he kept well concealed most of the time.

    To Hermione's immense relief, Severus' initial look of confusion was soon consumed by a hearty snicker.

    "I'm sorry, professor," murmured Neville, looking as helpless as a trapped mouse. "My potions have had some unintended side effects that we've had to balance with laxatives, and while it's certainly standard for my condition, there's only so much I can control-"

    He was cut off as Severus began convulsively laughing. Perhaps the volcanic emotions he'd been experiencing needed some sort of release and this was the easiest one. In any case, Severus was unable to get a grip of himself for several minutes as he laughed uproariously.

    It was unnerving. Hermione and Neville were similarly sitting in shock and bewilderment as Severus laughed himself out. Then, once he took a deep breath and stabilized himself, he said, "My dear Professor Longbottom, no need to apologize. I'm fully aware of the side effects of your condition's treatment regimen."

    This proceeded to make him start laughing all over again, though, and Hermione and Neville kept on feeling awkward and unsure of how to proceed. Until finally, Hermione shook her head, grasped Severus' hand, and said, "Are you all right?"

    A weird grin on his face, Severus took a few short quick breaths, and his face settled into its usual more neutral repose. "Of course. Of course."

    But that somehow signaled the turning point in their dinner that night. Severus, at that moment, managed to escape the foul mood he'd been in, and Hermione finally could relax. Neville didn't manage to really unwind much - he sat nearly ramrod straight the entire rest of dinner, and barely ate, as if beseeching his bowels to keep their symphonies for after he'd escaped Snape's presence.

    Still, at the end of it, he was smiling half-heartedly at Hermione's poor jokes about potions and herbology, and Severus had promised that Hermione could take Neville to the spot where he'd taken her to collect the yarrow and hemlock earlier in the fall.

    Dinner itself was lackluster, unfortunately. Pub food wasn't particularly glamorous, and after so many months of nothing but the best of house-elf fare, Hermione found herself disappointed by the repast from the restaurant.

    But that night, she walked back to the castle with two men on either of her arms. One of them seemed to be in a slightly manic mood, and the other seemed to be quite depressed, but somehow these two long-term enemies had managed to make peace enough to be civil to each other during a joint dinner.

    Hermione marveled at this all the way home.

    "How was this?" she asked as they approached the castle doors. She felt Severus clasp her tighter, and Neville let go gently to go ahead and get the door.

    "I- are you asking me?" Neville asked, as she grabbed his arm that he tried to weave out of her own.

    "Yes, of course," Hermione said, and she pulled Neville closer to her. She felt Neville sweat in the crook of his arm, and Severus' hot breath on her skin as he leaned towards her, possessively breathing in the scent of her neck.

    "I... erm, it was all right," Neville said, and there was a look of relief in his eyes. "It could have been much worse."

    Severus didn't add anything, merely snorting.

    Hermione draped one arm around Severus' wide waist and held him close to her. "I'm glad you came," she said, "it is... good, I think."

    "I agree," Severus said, to Hermione's immense surprise. She realized his mood seemed to have settle down. It seemed like he wasn't really on alert to the same degree - instead he seemed to be fairly content. While Neville had been abstinent with his food, Severus hadn't in the least, and he'd stuffed himself thoroughly.

    "Erm," Neville said, and gently disentangled himself from Hermione again, "Thanks."

    He proceeded to quietly head to the doors of the castle and open them. "After you," he said, and Hermione and Severus walked through the doors. Once they were over the threshold, he amended, "Actually, I think I'll stay out a while."

    His hand was in his pocket where Hermione had seen him fidgeting with a box of cigarettes.

    "All right," Hermione said, "good night."

    "Good night," answered Neville, and turned away.

    "What?" Severus growled, "No goodnight kiss? Are you mad?"

    Hermione found herself chuckling at the suggestion. Neville himself simply looked pale. The moonlight shone behind him, making him almost a mere silhouette, and he looked pallid and nervous.

    But Severus had let go of Hermione, unwinding himself from her with evident reluctance. "Don't you think this woman deserves it?" he asked, and with a grand gesture, he pressed his own lips on her soft hand in a gentlemanly fashion.

    Hermione blushed despite herself.

    Neville looked as scared as if this were a trap. But after glancing between Severus and Hermione multiple times, he finally took a deep breath and, swiftly, he advanced upon Hermione, drew her into his arms, and pressed into her lips.

    It wasn't as good a kiss as from earlier, and indeed it was quite short, but she could tell how stressed he was.

    "Thank you for a nice evening," said Neville, letting Hermione go and addressing the two of them. "Good night."

    He then proceeded to go out the doors and close them gently behind.

    Severus looked simply amused at the proceedings, as far as she could tell in the near-darkness of the entryway.

    "You're so strange," Hermione said, shaking her head, "So full of surprises."

    "So it would seem," Severus said, sounding as if he was engaging in a private joke.

    They went to bed that night together, Hermione drawing upon his warmth, feeling delighted at the way his fingers curled around her, pressing her closer to him.

    Somehow they'd survived this, and Hermione could not be more grateful.
     
  3. Nov 15, 2015 #63

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

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    The air was cold and crisp in the bright and early morning of November 21st as Hermione and Severus apparated behind a lonely dumpster at Heathrow.

    "So why is she visiting now, of all times?" Hermione asked, stepping gingerly around a mountain of trash bags.

    "Americans can't be bothered to wait for Christmas, so they devised a holiday for late autumn based on the anniversary of their second attempt at colonizing their continent," Severus snarked, drawing a hand through his hair and wrinkling his nose. She wasn’t sure if it was at the smell or the concept of Thanksgiving. "Come," he gestured, and they walked towards the long side of the airport where pickups occurred.

    It felt like they emerged in a sea of muggles. Liveried men with placards stood impassively, just close enough to the escalators that they were visible to all descending. Several older couples waited breathlessly for their children to return home from Uni. A few single people hung around, looking moody and jumpy, waiting for partners returning from business trips.

    Even in plainclothes, Hermione and Severus did not fit in well. They lingered next to a sad potted plant and held hands, Hermione running her thumb over Severus' palm, and Severus sweating profusely in the iridescent light.

    “You all right?” asked Hermione, and Severus snorted impassively. His other motions belied his nervousness, however - the way his fingers refused to hold still in her hand, the rapid pace of his breathing, the movement of his eyes across every woman’s face that came down the escalators.

    Hermione also was nervous, but her nervousness was more akin to how she’d felt in anticipation of their dinner with Neville the other night. Severus seemed distinctly more agitated than he had been then. She remained concerned, and did her best to remain calm as possible, even to the extent of regulating her breathing.

    The digital screens in the airport updated automatically with a dizzying array of numbers and letters that, if Hermione hadn't been so good at arithmancy, would have been quite distracting indeed. Severus seemed acclimated to it, and only once in a while stared malevolently at the information, as if daring it to contradict the information he had.

    Erika Holmes was due to arrive at 7:15am, and not a minute sooner or later.

    Of course that didn't happen, airplanes being what they are.

    As 7:15 passed, Severus growled and pressed his forehead against the wall. The screen said Erika’s plane was delayed by an hour.

    "We have time," Hermione said comfortingly, "my classes will keep. Time turners are exactly for this kind of situation."

    "My patience, however, will not keep," Severus seethed, and with an aggrieved sigh he dragged them both towards some empty benches near the baggage carousel. The benches were hard, made of an uncomfortable mesh wire, and had arms. The arms meant he had to jostle to squeeze himself in, and the net result was that he looked like a cake oozing out of its mold at every possible place.

    Hermione sat down next to him, admiring the view all the while, and pressed her head on his shoulder.

    "No need to panic, love," she murmured, and kissed him fondly. "We can wait."

    He seemed to want to reply, but they were interrupted by a gentle voice.

    "Excuse me?"

    The voice emerged from behind them, and Hermione arched her head to look back. Then she felt like her brain had dropped out of her skull.

    Her parents were standing there, bags in hand, looking just the same as they always had - her father in a blue windbreaker and her mother in sensible shoes - but they were also cloudy-eyes, just as she had left them.

    "My name is Wendell," said her father, extending a big familiar hand to her. Hermione took it numbly as he shook it, as introducing himself to a stranger. It felt eerie. "We are here to look for our daughter. She disappeared several years ago and we believe she came here."

    He frowned, and despite the cloudiness in his eyes, Hermione could see how sad he looked.

    Hermione's mother seemed significantly less distraught, as was her wont. "You do remind me a bit of Wendy's great aunt, Hermione. Doesn't she, dear? Her hair especially."

    Severus, clearly bewildered, stood up slowly, and faced the people who were potentially menacing his girlfriend. His eyes met Hermione's, and Hermione practically screamed in her mind, "Shit - these are my parents!" She hoped he picked up on it through legilimancy, though she knew he tried to keep that skill tucked deep within his mind these days.

    "Pleasure to meet you," drawled Severus, extending his hand. "Siger Prince."

    Hermione's eyebrow twitched as he pronounced his pseudonym - bookmarking it in her mind to ask him about it.

    It never occurred to her to think that hard about what she would do in this situation. Granted, it had seemed patently unlikely to come up - she had counted on never meeting her parents in England again until she brought them back. Silly, she realized.

    She looked at Severus with frustration. This was not what she had expected to deal with on the Monday morning prior to meeting her Metamour. He seemed unrealistically calm and collected - a total reversal of where he’d been minutes prior. It seems that stress brought out the best in him, though that was an unfortunate habit of which she intended to break him.

    "We can help you," Hermione said finally, realizing she might as well face the music. "Just wait a moment?"

    "No matter," said her father amiably, "We’ll manage, I think. Can we get a cab out there?" He gestured towards the door leading to the car park.

    "...Siger," Hermione said, and focused her eyes hard at Severus, begging him to pay attention to their forefront of her mind.

    "What is this?" She heard his voice in her mind, and she relaxed slightly.

    "My parents," she screeched internally, "help me!"

    "Heaven help us," he responded, "your parents?"

    He appeared somewhat amused now that there was some explanation. "What can I do to help?"

    "Let's just... Stall them," Hermione fumbled. "I need to take off the charm that I put them under years ago. They don't remember me but still the charm is clearly wearing off, they're remembering fragments of their old life.”

    "Okay," Severus said in her mind. Then, he glanced around until he saw a photo booth. It appeared to be out of order, but he gestured grandly towards it.

    "Wendell, it is our custom in this country to give visitors a gift when they arrive in Heathrow. Would you do me the honor of taking a photograph with me in celebration of your arrival?"

    Hermione's father looked as puzzled as could be. "I suppose," he said dubiously.

    "Then come," Severus said grandly, grabbing Hermione's father's elbow smoothly and maneuvering him into the booth with such a suave grace that Hermione almost envied her father of Severus' touch.

    Hermione's mother looked more suspicious than her father, and she scrutinized Hermione closely. "What is your name?" she asked, pushing her glasses further up her nose with the back of her palm. Hermione noticed with a stab of nostalgia that her mother had pen marks all up and down her wrist - a habit of writing with such fervor that she didn’t realize she was smearing her pages. Hermione had been careful not to inherit that habit, though she sometimes slipped up and did it. It’d become such an automatic effort, to catch herself pressing her wrist against the page, that she had completely forgotten why she’d started trying to catch herself in the first place.

    Hermione felt her heart sink. "Would you believe - my name, it's Hermione," she said softly, as if not wanting to believe it herself.

    Her mother didn't have any gleam of recognition. She merely nodded. "Suits you well," she said. "Hermione what?"

    "Granger," murmured Hermione even more softly.

    Again, no lightbulb seemed to go off in her mother's eyes. "What a horrid name," she said with a roll of the eyes, and Hermione's jaw dropped.

    She was saved by Severus emerging from the booth, her father in tow. Dr. Oliver Granger looked as if he's been stupefied.

    "Next," barked Severus efficiently, and before anyone could complain, he whisked away Hermione's mother into the photo booth.

    Hermione was left with her father, who had been clearly brought out of the confounding charms. Severus must not have done much in the way of counseling, however, because Hermione observed her father’s memory thaw out as clearly as if it’d been in the deep freeze. Oliver initially blinked at her, experiencing recognition, and then as it began to dawn on him, his hand flew to his mouth, and he took a deep steadying breath.

    Then, it soon became clear that he was trying hard not to cry. His attempt to conceal his emotion barely worked, and he finally broke down crying, throwing himself onto the hard bench and putting his face in his hands.

    Hermione was stunned. She’d never - ever- seen her father cry. Not even at his beloved mother’s funeral did she see him pass a tear. He’d always been so stoic and manly - even when he’d got kidney stones as a little tyke and had to lay on the couch for several days until they passed. He’d never appeared weak, helpless, or shed a tear. And now here he was, completely torn to pieces in a public place.

    This wasn’t like her father. This wasn’t like him at all.

    "Erm, da'?" asked Hermione, sitting down next to her father. She offered her hand, and he took it, but kept his face covered with his spare hand as he sobbed silently.

    "I don't understand," he finally said, brushing his face clean of tears and taking a deep breath. "Her... Hermione?"

    She nodded gloomily. While deeply distressing to see her father so distraught, obtaining her father’s forgiveness would be easy. It was her mother who really was going to be the trial by fire.

    "Yeah," she confessed, feeling her own eyes prickling, "it's me."

    "It is *I*," he corrected automatically, but Oliver looked immediately shocked at himself. "But it doesn't matter," he assured her, as if he were afraid his grammar corrections were the reason she’d left them in Australia, and he embraced her warmly, though there was an undercurrent of intense fear in his voice. "How are you, my darling?"

    Hermione felt her heart melt, and her prickles began to form her own sobs. What was happening to her father? She didn’t quite understand.

    "I missed you," she whimpered, feeling the despair she had felt for so long culminate in a massive wave of relief. What she didn’t articulate was that seeing her father, like this, made her miss him even more - the memory she had of him. She hadn’t remembered him being so childlike, but here he was, cradling her but simultaneously seeming to derive more strength from her than she was receiving from him.

    He had changed, Hermione felt, and it wasn’t something superfluous. This was something very deep. She wondered what it might be. Was it just that her memories of her parents were flawed?

    In the meantime, Severus emerged from the booth, calm and collected. Hermione's mother was not, however, and she was already glaring daggers at Hermione.

    Hermione deserved it, of course. But she wished more than ever that her mother was the forgiving type.

    Hermione's father, Oliver-nee-Wendell-nee-Oliver, hadn't let her go. "I can't believe it," he said, "I just don't understand what happened."

    "You weren't supposed to understand," Hermione said, and patted her father on the shoulder.

    "Why, Hermione?" asked her mother, Rachel Granger-Wilkins. She seems to have pieced together more than Oliver had. But just like Oliver, there was something off about her. She seemed tired - unspeakably, deeply tired. Hermione was unnerved by it.

    "I owe both of you an explanation," Hermione said, trying to get a grip on herself and dismiss the odd feeling she had about her parents, "and trust me, I will get to it. But it will take some time, and I really don't have that today."

    This was clearly the wrong thing to say. Rachel’s eyes burned in response, Oliver seemed as pathetic as a cat who had fallen into a puddle, and Severus was scanning them both with fierce attention.

    Then his eyes met Hermione’s. "Hermione!" said Severus sharply. "May I talk with you a moment?"

    He didn't allow her to disagree, and instead her parents watched in some astonishment as he swept her into the photo booth.

    "So what is the plan?" he asked. His voice was cold and formal.

    "What do you mean?" Hermione responded..

    "You know what I mean," he said with a snap. "No doubt you have regaled them for all your school years with tales of your awful bully of a professor. Now, tell me our cover story - why are we here?"

    Hermione looked abashed. It was true - she'd laid it on pretty heavy in her letters home. Her parents had despised him all the more fully on his behalf.

    The truth shone in her eyes, and he seemed to gleam in response - some combination of pride over how his affected disguise had worked, and bitterness at how deeply it had been entrenched in her parent's minds.

    "May I make a suggestion?" He asked, his voice taut and crisp. "We are here to go to Australia and find them. You tried before but couldn't undo the memory charm. Say I'm a specialist at these things, which isn't much of a stretch as it happens. Fortunately this happy coincidence means we won't have to go, oh lucky us."

    Hermione's eyes widened. "You just came up with that?" she asked, processing all the information.

    "Old habits," he said glibly. He gazed into her eyes, already armed against her next question.

    "I expect you don't want to simply be introduced as my romantic companion?"

    He snorted and rolled his eyes.

    "No, really, it isn't funny," she said, feeling her face flush. "I know we haven't talked about this, but there's no reason to laugh at me."

    "Hermione," he responded, his voice low and a touch of anger in it, "let's not pretend as though I'm bring-home-to-the-parents material. Usually that is a prelude to marriage proposals, I believe? And that simply would be unfair of me to suggest, for so many reasons. Much less the day you are unexpectedly reuniting with your parents who you filed away for half a decade."

    "I have many questions," Hermione hissed, "but most specifically why you think you aren't worth introducing to my parents as my lover, or boy friend, or what have you."

    His laugh was dark and self deprecating, and he refused to meet her eyes, instead staring up at the grimy ceiling of the photo booth. "Do you even need to ask?" he responded, and she could tell his anxiety was rising markedly.

    "Fine," she said, standing and smoothing her dress. "We will go with your story for today. But be forewarned," she said, "one of the reasons I "filed away" my parents is because I don't lie to them. And if they ask about the nature of our relationship, I will tell the truth.”

    "Fine," he said, realizing he wasn't going to get much farther with this line of inquiry for the moment, "and by the way - let's talk about that spell for a moment."

    "Ah yes," Hermione responded, "I'm quite pleased you managed to undo it so quickly. It took me hours to set up."

    "Unfortunately, my dear," Severus said with a thin warmth, which was as close as he could come to being reassuring while explaining how she’d spectacularly fucked up. “The spells you used, while not permanent, do have some permanent damage. I removed the confounding components and the false memories that you transplanted in their consciousness, but you did some Substantial damage to their minds in doing what you did.”

    “Oh no,” Hermione said, feeling her chest tighten.

    “You didn't do any changes to their subconscious minds, which means that the memory charms you placed didn't work long term because their consciousness and subconsciousness were constantly in battle with each other. Together they pieced together some fragments of their subconscious - which might have caused them even more permanent psychological damage.”

    “Oh no,” she murmured, feeling her breath shorten. “I didn’t know...”

    Severus sighed. His eyes were melancholy, and she realized it was because he was being reminded of their so-significant age difference. Where had he been during the time that she’d been putting her parents in Australia? “It was of course impressive magic for someone of your age,” he said, “but I'm sure that with your maturation of your knowledge, even today without prior preparation you could do a more effective job with less effort than that time you did it then.

    “Memory charms in particular,” he went on, “are truly difficult skills. Undersung for their difficulty, in many ways. They require the dexterity and precision of a surgeon, and the fortitude of a healer.” He sighed, warming up to the subject. Hermione listened with her usual rapt attention - though it was a little bit more difficult to hear, because of what it meant - putting her parents in danger.



    “There are so many ways to mess up a memory spell,” Severus went on, “many with irreversible damage. And yet because of the way they are presented in media, people take them lightly, confounding people right and left as so pleased them. Most of the basic charms used in school have little to no permanent effect, but once anyone purchases a standard master's level textbook they can get the more devious stuff. And we don't teach people how to use that stuff, because it is ironically dangerous. I have always been an advocate for teaching anyone keen on a concept everything about a topic, particularly how to keep themselves safe while performing practical applications. Whereas those who have no whit or care about a dangerous thing, like potions, shouldn't be on the core curriculum.”

    Feeling the shame burning her - it irked her so much to be even thought of in the same room as being careless - she snapped, “Save the lecture.”

    Severus’s brow furrowed, and she took a stabilizing breath. “Severus, don’t break down on me now. I love you, and I love what you're saying, mostly. But now is not really the time.”

    “Of course,” he said. He looked at her, before cautiously adding, “Suffice it to say, it was relatively easy to break the bonds of their conscious minds because they were already fairly worn away. Your parents are clever people, and because of that I’m sure they were abnormally successful in getting through the charms. But every brain is different, as most books neglect to say, and setting up memory modification spells is not a one size fits all situation, despite what some numbskull authors might imply. All memories have different means of being encoded and because of that, each person attempting to modify memories must target multiple elements of the person's psyche and identify the primary channels of memory. One common side effect of poorly affected memory spells is paralysis and loss of life - because when tinkering with the memory, most people do not realize, one can accidentally snap some wires in the brain related to autonomic functions like breathing and the heartbeat, and muscle memory functions like walking and swimming. It is indeed rare that any memory modification comes without a somatic effect.”

    Hermione proceeded to realize how very dangerous her endeavors had been. Her own anxiety quadrupled her problem and magnified it immensely. Despite Severus’ measured explanation, she felt like he was telling her that her parents being alive at this point was a miracle, really. Given how much modification she made to her damn spells because they weren't working like she wanted... She'd built a web of destruction around her parents. She was grateful they were here and that she had run into them by such a chance, and she felt nearly suicidal at the idea that she had nearly done them in by her attempt to protect them.

    "I understand, Severus," she said softly, her head slumping with the overwhelming guilt at being admonished.

    Because he was already closely attending to her, he picked up on the deep feelings of inadequacy and sadness immediately.

    "Come now," he said, "come now."

    He pressed her into his arms, and she wilted against his softness with relief, a welcome distraction. His muggle clothes fit him a little snugly, which was exactly how she liked - a simple dark green button down with black trousers and a dark grey greatcoat. He was warm and snuggly, and heavenly to touch. In the dark recesses of her mind, she wanted comfort and reassurance in the most basic and human way possible - sex. She wanted him now, even knowing her parents were outside in shock.

    Severus seemed to understand, and he held her closer to her. "I suppose your parents are appreciating the time to conference," Severus said, and he pressed his lips into Hermione's soft, buoyant hair.

    She sighed and embraced him more fervently. "You're just making an excuse," she said.

    "You can leave any time you want," he said, holding her closer with a firm hand that threatened to press her into an unbreakable embrace, "but... I need to track the incoming flights."

    Hermione just waved her hand and buried her face in Severus’ soft breasts, and a mirage of the screen from outside shows up on the darkened screen in the photo booth.

    As they looked, it appeared that Erika's flight was delayed even further.

    "Satisfied?" asked Hermione, and Severus nodded.

    "Somewhat," he said, and he pressed tightly against her until she realized his member was at attention.

    "Mm," Hermione said, "Kinky."

    "Just to let you know what you're in for tonight," he said, and, with a deep breath, he added, "Also, if it pleases you, though Merlin knows why it would, you can tell your parents I am your... Romantic partner or whatnot."

    Hermione's sadness immediately turned. "It would please me a great deal."

    He nodded. The tips of his hair brushed against Hermione’s cheeks. "Unfortunately I can't support you if they disown you. At least not until I hit a massively lucrative patent."

    Hermione kissed his lovely soft cheek and steeled herself against the firestorm she was sure to ensure. Them, with a surrender to the future, she went outside.
     
  4. Nov 15, 2015 #64

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

    hufflepuff hobbit

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    Chapter 47

    Chapter Text

    They ended up sitting in the comfy chairs of an airport coffee shop, but the atmosphere was still stifling. The fogginess in the eyes of Rachel Wilkins-Granger was gone, but Oliver Granger still seemed a bit out of it.

    Rachel, was fiercely angry about the whole affair in a way that reassured Hermione that little personality damage has been done. Still, the sense of fatigue seemed to pervade everything Rachel said and did, from stirring her coffee to starting her interrogation of Hermione. Oliver, for his part, was as toothless as usual, erring on the side of benevolent and permissive.

    "What a fortunate coincidence it happened this way," Oliver said, settling down into a comfy chair, his mood much brighter after he had a few sips of a mocha latte in him. (For a skinny man, he indulged himself quite a lot on sweet things.) "I still can't quite believe our good luck. Thank goodness you didn't head all the way to Down Under before you realized we were stuck back here!"

    "Yes," Rachel said, her tone terse. "What luck."

    She hadn't completely accepted the brief tale of explanation that Hermione and Severus had presented. With that suspicious note, she sipped her austere black tea. She cast a glance at Severus, who was busily engaged in eating a bran cake. He had murmured his drink order to the barista to hide the fact that he'd asked for double whip and triple caramel for his own latte. Hermione heard it, being close to his side, and she'd pinched him affectionately to see his belly jiggle. He'd cast her a severe glare that, in a more intimate context, would have made her giggle. Given the circumstances, she'd just smiled and turned away and squeezed his hand.

    She was still holding it tightly since they'd left the photo booth together. She thought it was more mature, to quietly announced her romantic connection to "Siger" by this simple gesture. Rachel was swift on the uptake and seemed to still be evaluating Serverus' weaknesses. For, Hermione knew, her mother would principally focus on those like a hawk. Heaven knew her mother had harped on Ron and Harry enough over the years. (Hermione's passing crushes on both of them could scarcely pass by unnoticed to Rachel).

    "So," Rachel said finally, as the three others tried their best to ignore Rachel's previous comment, "when's the due date, Hermione?"

    It was clearly a jibe at her body's size - Hermione, at her plumpening 221 pounds and waist of forty-seven inches, Hermione was nearly a hundred pounds heavier than when she'd last seen her parents. Granted, being a teenager of 130-odd and five feet high wasn't skinny, but it certainly wasn't terribly predictive of what was to happen to Hermione's body.

    In response, Hermione cast a warning glare at her mother, and cast her eyes down again, picking at her scone.

    "Oh, I'm so sorry," Rachel said, but it was clear she wasn't sorry at all. There was a sharpness behind her pacifying tone. "Forgive me. I shouldn't have assumed. You've always just been so... petite."

    "It's been five years since you last saw me, mother," Hermione said, "and I don't want to talk about it."

    "All right, all right," said Oliver, who exuded the sense that he couldn't care less what size Hermione was or wasn't. "She doesn't want to talk about it. So," he went on, and clapped Severus on the shoulder heavily. Severus quietly seethed. "Tell us about your man."

    "I'd love to," Hermione said, "but don't you want to talk about... Everything else?"

    "All in good time," assured Oliver heartily, putting on his best listening face - which was about as convincing as a Labrador retriever abstaining from a treat. "What do you do, Siger?"

    "I'm a potions master," Severus said quietly. "With specialties in what you'd call immunology and endocrinology. But I tend to dabble in cross-systems interactions, and have done some projects in other disciplines, including neurology and pharmacy."

    "Ah," Oliver said with relief, hearing Severus speak doctor language. Severus was as close as he could be to passing win Oliver's approval at this point. "So are you involved with research, or more practical applications?"

    "I have had the good fortune to become involved In experimental research, with some more standard studies. Mostly I am involved in developing and brewing prototypes, and I collaborate with a practical team at St. Mungo's hospital, if you've heard of that."

    "I see," Oliver Said, a classic phrase that signaled to Hermione that the conversation was about to go far over his head. "And what sorts of projects are you doing with the hospital?"

    "They span a variety of areas," Severus said, and the frown on his face indicated he saw through Oliver's worldliness. "I'm not sure if you want to hear about them in detail."

    "Oh please, go ahead," Oliver said, and with his authentic forwardness, he added, "I don't know how much of it I'll be able to keep up with, it's been awhile since medical school. But I am terribly interested."

    "If you insist," Severus said, and began detailing his various projects. All of which Hermione was already intimately familiar with, and which this writer, dear readers, cannot keep up with, I'm sad to say. It all sounded very promising, I assure you.

    In the meantime, while the men were occupied, Hermione's mother found the opportunity to grill Hermione directly.

    "So," Rachel asked, her face fiery, "how did you think we'd feel about this?"

    Hermione blinked. "About what in particular?" She asked, because she could not guess which of her recent violations was the most egregious.

    "About leaving us in Australia for over five years, isn't that enough?" responsed Rachel, her eyes grey and skeptical. In her eyes there was, Hermione saw as she looked closely, the faintest hint of tears.

    ...

    It wasn't much of a stretch for anyone impartial to conclude the similarity between the likeness of Dr. Wilkins-Granger and that of Hermione herself. But relationships between ambitious mothers and daughters are strange. Hermione tended to be impressed by her mother, and also fearfully afraid that she would not live up to her mother's standards.

    Rachel's parents were softcore Jews of the Reformed persuasion. Her father had been a doctor, and her mother had been a nurse. Rachel had one-upped her mother very boldly by becoming a doctor herself, sacrificing having a family until nearly too late. Her parents both died resentfully before Rachel could reproduce.

    Oliver was a full ten years younger than her; and they met when she employed him as a junior partner at her practice. It was, despite the urgency behind it, a marriage of love as much as convenience, and Oliver and Rachel were inseparable creatures. Hermione had no idea why. Oliver was warm and bumbley, charismatic and delightful, if a bit over enthusiastic. Whereas Rachel was cold, and smart as a whip - and this combination was ,in her generation especially, more of a liability than an asset.

    Hermione was Rachel's first and last child, not counting a college abortion. (This abortion was one which Rachel spoke frankly about, being an explosive feminist wholeheartedly dedicated to women's rights.) Rachel sought to do everything to ensure Hermione had all the advantages necessary to become an even better doctor.

    Until, of course, Hermione had gone to magic school instead. Rachel never had quite forgiven her that disappointment. Rachel never said so outright, but it came out in small ways - comments about her friends' children and their progress towards medical school, her constant encouragement to drop out of Hogwarts at any sign that Hermione wasn't happy there, and even her expressed hopes that if Hermione wanted to be a witch, that at least Hermione would marry a doctor.

    Oliver, for his part, was benignly negligent when it came to Hermione's education, merely expressing that Rachel knew far better than he did about educating children. He provided Hermione with whatever interesting books she desired, and frequently gave her new ones to explore. He was thoughtful and kind, and for these reasons Hermione tended to prefer her dad over her mother. But he had the horrible habit of not listening at all when Hermione told him about the interesting things she was reading, and also to constantly think of Hermione as a little girl just needing to follow the rules and let the adults handle all the difficult work. He wanted her to be a child and enjoy her childhood, and not fret so much. It was sweet but not particularly helpful support.

    Hermione had decided that Rachel and Oliver's chapter as involuntary expats would be good for all involved. Her mother would forget what kind of disappointment she had as a daughter, and more importantly, would not remind Hermione of this while Hermione was engaged in a deadly contents of which mission, if she had tried to explain them, would sound stupid to her mother. Oliver would have told her not to fret about it, but let the adults in her world handle it, they probably knew what they were doing. Rachel would probably have suggested shooting the bastards, with guns. (In all seriousness, Hermione wished she hadn't been so stubborn to dismiss this latter idea. Even Voldemort was not immune to bullets.)

    But it wasn't all self serving, Hermione's desire to remove her parents from the country. Rachel had an unfortunate tendency to overextend herself, and her cardiologist had recommended an early retirement due to Rachel's health challenges. This suggestion was one that Rachel had defied vigorously. In fact, the summer after Hermione's fourth year, Rachel had been put in the hospital for irregular palpitations of the heart, and Rachel had fought until she obtained an early discharge - only to collapse at work and be rushed into the ICU until she recovered. But she wasn't back to her old self again even by the time Hermione sent her parents to Australia.

    Since Hermione's fifth year, Oliver had confided that he felt fear every time her mother worked late. Rachel subsisted on take-away, with little regard to her own health, in order to author grants, develop programs, and issue hospital emergency surgeries at all hours. Her life was significantly more exciting and strenuous than the lives of most private practice dentists, in other words. But even as she entered her sixties, she was not prepared to stop her frenetic pace of work.

    It was this that had also inspired Hermione to take the actions that she had done - Hermione had, in her naiveté, thought her mother being removed from her work would put her mother's health back in the right. Now of course Hermione knew her mother would be vigorously denying herself rest until she died on her feet, because Hermione better understood people now. Ironically she understood her mother better now after having spent five years out of touch. But Hermione forgave her younger self and her dream that her mother might in fact be better off without her work. It had been a kind dream.

    …..

    "Why did you do this?" asked Rachel again, and Hermione sighed.

    "It's complicated," she said, feeling her throat tighten. Then, she took a deep breath. Was it better to just flat-out lie, and say that it was a decision based on a lack of reason? Or was it better to say that this was a premeditated decision?

    She found herself comparing the situation to one of manslaughter versus contemplated and planned murder. It was a bit morbid, but it helped her come to a conclusion about how to frame the situation.

    "It was a senseless decision, you're completely right," Hermione said, even though this was far from the truth. Her own words echoed in her mind I always tell my parents the truth, and she realized that this wasn't entirely true anymore. She'd always been forthcoming with her parents before, when she was a child.

    But now? Now she was an adult. And now she could decide how to act with her parents. She supposed that if she stopped being so forthcoming, they might actually treat her as an adult, with boundaries worth respecting.

    It was an uncomfortable feeling, but also a liberating one. She just hoped it wouldn't backfire.

    "I was completely at my wit's end when I did it," Hermione said, hoping her mother wouldn't see through her lie. "I had no idea what I was doing. I just… threw together some old spells I hoped would work, and somehow they did." Granted, this latter part was almost true - despite her extensive research beforehand, the spells she'd used hadn't worked quite as well as she'd hoped, and she had indeed needed to improvise.

    "But why didn't you trust us?" asked Rachel, "We're your parents. We could have helped you."

    "You're right," Hermione said, feeling her mood sink a little bit as she conceded this point. It was a lie - she knew how Voldemort would have, had it even been remotely convenient, slashed their faces open just to get at Hermione.

    But perhaps it was better they didn't know how much danger they were in.

    "You're right," Hermione went on, "as soon as it was all done, I saw how it was actually worse for you to be out of the country. But it was too late, and there wasn't a way for me to undo it."

    "And why so long for you to come for us?" asked Rachel, her voice rising slightly. She seemed on the verge of tears.

    Hermione hated to see her mother cry.

    "Because I couldn't find a way," Hermione said sadly, looking down at the ground. "Siger and I, we have been working for years, now, to try and figure out how to free you from the mess of charms and modifications I made to your memories. It was only this week we finally had a breakthrough. You saw how easily he slipped you out of them. Don't be fooled - it wasn't simple to come up with the right combination of spells, even though the execution was easy."

    Rachel's eyes were shining now, and a few tears began to slip from them. She pressed a napkin primly against her cheeks.

    "It wasn't easy," she said, "to come out of that fog. All those memories coming back… it was like being run over by a freight train of one's own feelings."

    "I know," Hermione said, "I'm so sorry."

    Rachel patted her cheeks again, blinking at Hermione with a sense of foreign helplessness. She seemed to be asking Who even are you?

    "And what's more," Rachel asked, pivoting on the subject, "Hermione, is Siger your boyfriend?"

    This was loud enough that Oliver and Severus could hear, and the two of them went silent, both gazing over at the women.

    Hermione looked over at Severus, and his face was casually neutral. Say whatever you like, Severus reminded her with his eyes.

    "You could say that," she said. "He is a person I care for very much, and want to spend more time with."

    Her mother looked closely at him. Finally, she asked, "are you Jewish?"

    Hermione was shocked. She Knew her mother was from a Jewish family but that they'd been secular enough to be pleased to accommodate the agnostic Oliver Granger into their family.

    Severus was taken aback as she was, not for the least of reasons was because he had been effectively on the authoritarian end of a genocidal war.

    "Erm, no," he said, his face coloring. "They don't exactly...erm...wizards don't exactly practice Muggle traditions in that way."

    "What does that mean?" asked Rachel doggedly.

    Severus, giving up, shook his head. "Raised Catholic, practicing agnostic."

    "Ah," said Hermione's mother in a tone that seemed neutral. Then she grudgingly smiled, mostly satisfied. "I don't want my daughter to end up with a black hat."

    Severus had not, apparently, heard much about Orthodox Judaism in his time in America, and his puzzled look showed as much. But Hermione figured she could explain more about it later.

    "So," Rachel was going on, gazing at them both with scrutiny that would have befitted McGonagall. "I still have many questions."

    "Ask away, mother," Hermione said, "but do bear in mind that I need to eventually go back and teach my classes for the day."

    "Ah," Oliver said, "so you're a professor?"

    "Yes," Hermione said, "and actually, Professor Snape and I-"

    Then, with horror, she realized what she had said. The name 'Professor Snape' had just spilled out of her mouth like sand out of a macrame bag. And moreover, she didn't have the good sense to cover it up by correcting herself immediately - she instead cast a desperate glance at Severus, who just rolled his eyes at her.

    "I knew it," Rachel said, standing up, furious. "I knew you were hiding something!"

    "Oh dear heavens," Oliver said, appearing a bit stunned. Then, still a bit foggy in the brain, he asked, "What is it they were hiding, exactly?"

    Ignoring her husband completely, "You were her PROFESSOR," Rachel practically shrieked, and approached Severus with malice in her eyes. "And five years later, here you are. When did you set your sights on our little girl? The first day she walked into your class, I'll bet. That's why you treated her like such a bully. Classic abuser tactics - degrade a girl until she's lost all confidence in herself, then scoop her up with praise and supplication. Makes her dependent on your love" she said, violently angry.

    Severus, for his part, just sat there, unmoving.

    Hermione hadn't been expecting this.

    "And how is it that just now you've come to the sudden breakthrough where you can miraculously cure us of the curse that we were under?" Rachel went on. "This was far more than a mere coincidence, my darling girl. This man has had you under his thumb the entire time."

    If there had been any truth to any of this, Hermione might have quailed underneath her mother's tremendous might. As it happened, however, Hermione took a few deep breaths, and then softly suggested, "Mother, you've got to calm down. Your heart."

    "I will not calm down," Rachel said, beginning to cry outright. "I will not calm down."

    Oliver, fortunately, took this as his cue, and he stood up and embraced his wife. "Hush, hush," he murmured, rocking her while Rachel began to sob incoherently in his arms. "It's all right. It's all right."

    As Rachel gasped for air on Oliver's shoulder, Severus stood. He stared coldly at the couple. "I think I'd best be off," he said, and he walked away, not looking back at Hermione.

    Hermione's heart immediately broke.

    "Mother!" she exclaimed, but as her mother just started crying louder, Hermione mellowed her voice. "Mother. I'm sorry," she said quietly. "It's not what you think. It really isn't. We only just started dating a few months ago. He's… I've been engaged, mother," she went on, rambling aimlessly, "Ron and I were engaged. We were going to be married. I didn't even know Severus was alive for… for years. And Ron and I, we were going to be married. Severus didn't even show up again in the wizarding world until relatively recently. He spent years in America, mother. He had another girlfriend. He and I… this is new. And he was never inappropriate in that way when he was a teacher. Never."

    This seemed to placate Oliver's apparent concern well enough. "See, darling," he murmured to Rachel, "It isn't like you thought. They haven't been dating very long. She was going to marry Ronald Weasley, that funny kid with the scar on his face and the long hair, isn't that right?"

    "No, that was- oh, nevermind," Hermione tried to correct Oliver. He was on her side, repeating back everything Hermione had said to Rachel.

    "You know, ma," Hermione said, gently embracing her mother and father together, "You're going to have to learn to trust me, if we're going to continue to be in each others' lives now that you're back. I know I shattered that trust you had in me when I was young and made an incredibly stupid decision that took far too long to correct. But I'm much older now - and grown up, now - and you're going to have to take what I say at face value. Not try and decide that I was smoking in the bathroom because I was reading a book in there so long."

    Hermione smiled faintly at the memory of her mother banging on the bathroom door after Hermione had gotten so engaged in a book that she had been in there a full hour - and Rachel had been suspicious and enraged until Hermione opened the door and showed her she'd read over a hundred pages in a book and the window was closed tight the whole time.

    "I understand," Rachel said, sniffling. "It's just… oh, Hermione, you're so grown up now. And it feels like it happened overnight. I don't know how to react, Hermione."

    "That's right," reassured Oliver, and he kissed his wife gently on the cheek. "That's right."

    "Excuse me?" asked a voice behind them, and Hermione felt a tap on her shoulder. Hermione processed the voice, and it seemed fairly familiar to Hermione but wasn't immediately recognizable.

    Hermione turned her head and saw a plump, soft black woman in her early thirties standing in front of her. "I couldn't help but overhear - are you the Hermione I'm looking for?"

    Hermione tore herself away from her parents as she did a double-take. "Erika?"

    The girl smiled, her grin wide. "That's me!"

    Goddamit, Hermione thought to herself, Where on earth did Severus go, and why am I suddenly in a modern comedy of errors?

     
  5. Nov 15, 2015 #65

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

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    Chapter 48

    Chapter Text

    Hermione couldn't believe the poor fortune she was having today.

    "Erika," she said in a low whisper, "now is not a good time."

    Louder she said, "Erika, what a surprise! What are you doing in England?"

    Thankfully Erika was quick to follow along. "Visiting friends," she said, grinning widely. "What a coincidence, you being here! I'm surprised they aren't here yet to pick me up. Could you by any chance give me a ride?"

    "Of course," Hermione said, and gestured to the comfy chairs. "These are my parents, Oliver and Rachel."

    "A pleasure to meet you," said Erika, extending her hand warmly. Hermione recognized, in her words and gesture, Severus' learned pureblood charm, and nearly laughed aloud to see it. Was it possible he had influenced her so much?

    Oliver shook her hand with the same enthusiasm, and Rachel primly reciprocated as well.

    "I'm so excited to be home," Erika said, gazing around at the bleak airport as if it were enchanted. "It's been so long."

    "Glad to have you home," Hermione said, "our mutual friend has gone to the bathroom, I assume, and he will be back shortly."

    "So what are you all doing here?" Erika asked. Her casualness was a godsend. Hermione couldn't be more thankful.

    "Well," Hermione explained, "Severus and I were headed to Australia to try and remedy my parents. You surely remember hearing about how we'd been working for years to find a way to bring them back to themselves. But as it happened, my parents came here - and now with our recent experimental charm, they're okay."

    "Wow," Erika said, her large eyes gleaming with humor and recognition. "That's such a coincidence. How amazing! You know what the Jungians say," she went on, and she waggled her fingers in a "jazz hands" motion. "Synchronicity."

    "Exactly right," said Oliver, who ate up that wooey shit like Severus could eat a whole turkey, "such a unique coincidence, it seems like it was fated to happen."

    "Yes indeed," echoed Hermione with a sigh. Perhaps all this would work out in the end. "If you believe in fate."

    Neither parent commented on the heavy implication that Hermione, like all sensible people, did not believe in fate.

    "So what next?" asked Erika smoothly before either of the doctors Granger could respond. "How about breakfast?"

    "Splendid," replied Oliver without a second of hesitation. "Severus already had himself a bit of cake, but I suppose the rest of us could've a bite. I'm not quite sure what time it's supposed to be now, but I'm sure it's close to a mealtime somewhere."

    Rachel sighed dramatically and began to walk resignedly towards the dismal morning food court.

    "No, mum," Hermione said, and then stopped. Her first instinct was to say, "let's just go back to the castle," but then she realized that she wasn't sure if she could do that. As far as Hermione knew, Muggles couldn't even see Hogwarts.

    "I'm wondering if you're thinking we should go back to the school," she heard a voice behind her, and a warm hand settled on her shoulder. Severus was back, a little bit calmer at least on the surface. "We should, you know. You have classes to teach."

    "But can we?" Hermione asked, and raised an eyebrow at her parents.

    "We aren't stowaways, you know," came Rachel's bitter voice, "We are your parents, Hermione."

    "Let her be," came Oliver's placating voice. "Don't you see this is more complicated than that?"

    "This wizarding business has always been too complicated for my taste," responded Rachel with a hint of a snarl.

    Severus' eyes seemed to gleam. "I like your mum," he said beneath his breath, taking Hermione's hand. "Skeptic after my own heart." He seemed to hesitate with Erika, who was smiling at him broadly but with eyes that demonstrated compassion for the complicated situation. It was clear he wanted desperately to take her hand as well, and sweep her up into an embrace, but for the moment he simply extended his hand to her. "A pleasure to see you again, my dear."

    "Same to you, Professor Snape," said Erika, who barely hid a giggle.

    Hermione had never seen Severus blush to be called Professor Snape, but the color rose to his cheeks as Erika grinned at him knowledgeably. He smoothed the front of his shirt, which was a bit on the threadbare side since it was a Muggle piece he hadn't worn in quite a while and needed to extend prior to coming out that morning. For a moment, he seemed to have forgotten Hermione entirely, and was wholly concentrating on his interactions with Erika. Erika grasped his hand again, and shook it meaningfully, clasping it with both her hands. "It really is good to see you, Severus," she said, and patted his shoulder as she turned back to Hermione.

    Hermione, on her part, felt the smallest bit sad. She wondered if she still made Severus blush. When was the last time she had made him so mumbly and bashful? She couldn't remember for the moment, and that saddened her.

    Severus was doing his best to reinvest in his composure, and proceeded to wave the group - which was swiftly reaching ridiculous proportions - out of a fire exit, which he silenced with a wave of his wand. With his authoritative bearing, everyone followed without hesitation.

    Then, once under cover of a fuel refilling barrel, he offered his arm to Hermione, and she took it with a sense of nervousness. He motioned for the others to do the same: Erika (who seemed casually bewildered but game for the ride,) Oliver (whose eyes were widening with excitement at the realization that finally, after so many years, he was going to see his beloved daughter complete magic), and Rachel (who appeared somber and possibly constipated, given the grim line of her lips.)

    Severus seemed to have apologies in his eyes as he met Hermione's gaze. All he said, however, was "Here goes nothing," and they closed their eyes and apparated back to the castle.

    ........
    Oliver promptly threw up as soon as they landed at the front gates of Hogwarts.

    "I have always thought it very intelligent of the creators of Hogwarts to position the barriers of the anti-apparition wards far from the castle grounds," Severus said smirkingly as he extended a handkerchief magically pulled out of his cuff and offered it to Oliver.

    Oliver, for his part, smiled gratefully, and heaved his guts out another time.

    "He's dreadfully weak stomached," said Rachel, who appeared none the worse for wear. "Unlike some people I could mention."

    Hermione wasn't sure if that was a fat joke at Severus' expense, a compliment, or both, or neither. Rachel didn't do them the favor of elaborating, so Hermione dismissed it. Anything less than overt antagonism would, unfortunately, have to be ignored. Her mother had every right to be bitter and mean.

    "Drink this," Severus said, uncorking a stopper from a bottle he'd brought for Erika's benefit and giving it to Oliver, "and you will feel better."

    Oliver took one whiff and wrinkled his nose, but downed the potion and took a few deep breaths. "That's amazing," he said as he stood straight again. "What is that?"

    "It's a patented brew," Severus said, "I can't divulge the contents to anyone who doesn't have the license, unfortunately."

    "Oh, that's all right," Oliver said, a little dazedly. He had caught sight of Hogwarts, and a huge grin emerged on his face. "That's the school, there?" he asked, a hand pointing at the school.

    Everyone looked where he was pointing. Hogwarts was looking particularly lovely at this time of the morning, with the sun getting closer to the middle of the sky. Even Rachel had to be impressed.

    "Yes," Hermione said proudly, "it is."

    Severus nodded, then steeled himself for the walk back by taking a few deep breaths. "Come along," he said, and offered his arm to Rachel Granger, who refused it but appeared somewhat flattered. Hermione was relieved to see her having to hide a smile. That was much more what she had been hoping for from her mother upon their reunion. With that look, she knew that things would be all right. Even though it had been challenging, it was going to be all right.

    .......
     
  6. Nov 15, 2015 #66

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

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    Chapter 49

    Chapter Text

    The rest of the morning was occupied by trying to help Hermione's parents get settled in. Hermione finally got them disposed of in a spare guest bedroom, courtesy of a bemused McGonagall. They were severely jetlagged and were pleased to sleep through Hermione's classes, once they'd gotten their fill at the Hogwarts breakfast tables.

    Finally, Hermione, Erika, and Severus were alone in Hermione's rooms as Hermione began to scramble together the materials for her classes.

    Erika and Severus were sitting on Hermione's book-crowded couch, and Severus was awkwardly holding Erika's hand. At the same time, he seemed unsure whether to enjoy her eye contact or not.

    "So you'll be running your classes from now through dinnertime," Erika was saying to Hermione. The other woman's eyes were running over Hermione's sitting room, an Hermione was mostly sure that Erika was just getting accustomed to her new environment - but there was a little something in her brain that seemed to suggest otherwise. As if Erika were appraising Hermione's apartment and deciding Hermione weren't good enough for Severus.

    *It's not as if a lot of other people will date him, given what a fat arse he is,* Hermione thought, then hushed the thought immediately with shame. She didn't believe that. She felt like Severus' occasional charm and intelligence, not to mention hero status, would have earned him hundreds of the country's most desirable dates at the drop of a hat if he wanted them, no matter what he looked like. Still, she wondered where this thought came from. Was it a response to her feelings of jealousy, which were muted but still persistent a Erika sat on the sofa with Severus.

    "It's nice to know that Severus' taste is consistent," Erika said, as if reading Hermione's mind. "He seems to have a thing for the most wickedly smart girls."

    "Thanks?" Hermione said, taking a deep breath. She was finding herself coursing with anxiety and adrenaline, a delayed reaction to the situation where her parents arrived. At the turn of a pin, she felt almost like crying.

    Severus turned his head and smiled at Hermione thinly, his lips pressed together in close tight formation. Then he saw that her eyes were starting to well up, and he stood abruptly. "What's wrong?" he asked, drawing her into a close embrace with him.

    Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her face into his soft pillowlike breasts. "I don't think I can run classes today," she confessed as she pressed herself deeper into his softness. "This all... is too much."

    "That's fine," Severus said gently. "I've never seen you cancel a class. Trust me, some professors are cavalier about it. I encourage you to take care of yourself." He clasped Hermione more tightly in response to her broken sob emerging from her throat. One of his large hands rubbed up and down her shoulders. "Shh," he murmured, and his low voice was strangely soothing. "Should I cancel your classes for you?"

    "Yes please," Hermione murmured, and took a few steadying breaths. "I'm sorry Erika," she added, "this is a wonderful first impression of me. My apologies."

    "Far from it," Erika said, a good-natured tone to her voice. "This certainly isn't my first impression of you. I've been hearing about how thrilled Severus has been with you for months. You've already won me over, Hemione."

    Hermione hadn't thought of it that way. Granted, in some ways she felt the same, because Severus did keep Hermione apprised on his conversations and such regarding Erika. But it wasn't precisely the same, because she still didn't feel completely comfortable with the whole metamour situation.

    "Thank you," Hermione said, breathing in and out. Severus then waved his hand, and sent all the books from the couch onto the floor, and then he sat his nice wide arse in the center of the couch, close against Erika. He proceeded to, almost shyly, pat the seat next to him.

    Hermione proceeded to sit down, feeling her body stiffen. This was so strange.

    Then Severus extended one hesitant arm to surround Erika, who leaned against him with perfect comfort. Then, with a soft tug, he brought Hermione down to a symmetrically similar position on the other side. She slipped down a little more, however, as she untucked herself from under his arm and lay down, flattening the back of her head against his thick thigh. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, feeling her hot breath come back to her as she breathed against Severus' hot stomach flesh. Hermione closed her eyes and felt Severus rubbing his hand through her long curly hair.

    "I can't believe this," he murmured, once his hand was firmly stuck in Hermione's curls, "I have two beautiful women who want to be with me."

    "Yep," answered Erika simply, and Hermione felt Severus' torso turn slightly. Then, she heard the slightest wet sucking sounds of a kiss, and her eyes flew open. She looked up at Severus and Erika, tentatively re-exploring each other with their tongues and lips. Hermione watched with fascination as Severus' double chins wobbled, and she appreciated the way the bit of pudge in Erika's plump neck also wiggled as they moved. Hermione idly slipped one hand underneath the warm flap of Severus' expansive belly, and she relaxed into the heat of his skin. Her eyes closed, and she listened to Severus and Erika kiss some more. Erika sounded like a good kisser; she was both an initiator and a receiver, and seemed to coax Severus into being more active and passionate with every gentle smack of her lips.

    Hermione could not help but feel the slightest bit envious. Watching and listening to someone kiss Severus made her want to kiss and appreciate him as well.

    She opened her eyes widely and watched with rapt attention as the others made their ballet duet a reality. Then, as they seemed inclined to stop, Severus opened his eyes and looked down into Hermione's eyes.

    "Come," he rumbled thickly, pressing her shoulder and urging her to rise. Hermione did so belaboredly, and she sighed once she got herself into a sitting position.

    As soon as she was accessible to him, he pressed his lips into her own. And Hermione felt immediately a mix of desire and pain. She could taste Erika's kiss on his lips - a light and lovely cocoa butter flavor, unless she was imagining it.

    Her mind began to spin, and she laid a final kiss on Severus' soft cheek and stood, feeling a bit dizzy.

    "I... I don't know if I can do this?" she asked, grasping Severus' shoulder with one hand and pressing her other hand against her face. "This... today was just too much."

    "I understand," Erika said, and she glanced between the two magic people with some curiosity, as if expecting sparks or something. "I... I could leave you two be, awhile."

    "No, no," Hermione said, shaking her head. She wasn't sure what she wanted. She felt weighed down by the events of the day, and desperately wished she could wake up again and go through the whole day over more slowly. "I just want to take a bit of a lay-down, if that's all right."

    "Would you like company?" asked Erika, who was feverishly processing the situation. Hermione watched as Severus, in his confusion and distress, glanced a few times between the two women, before finally settling on Hermione with a look of concern.

    "I..."

    The honest answer was yes, but Hermione was not about to tell someone who was reuniting with his overseas girlfriend for the first time in years that he should abandon said girlfriend at the drop of a hat.

    Erika then slapped Severus on the shoulder good-naturedly. "All right, I'll go ahead and take a nap in Severus' room, then," she said carefully, "if that's all right."

    "No," Hermione said, and all of a sudden she felt even worse at the idea of banishing a woman who had come all this way to spend time with her partner. "No, you don't have to go."

    "Okay," Severus said, and he seemed frustrated by the situation. He took a deep breath. "Do you want me to come and hold you while you fall asleep?"

    "That'd be nice," Hermione said, "but I don't want you to have to leave Erika."

    Severus groaned aloud. "I can't be in two places at once," he responded with a hint of a growl. "It's not as though we can all go to bed together."

    The two women looked at each other. It sounded simple but it actually was a solution.

    "Actually... would... that work for you, Hermione?" broached Erika. "...Sev in the middle?"

    Hermione closed her eyes and tried not to smile at Erika calling him Sev. Somehow the levity lended itself to the situation and made her feel like it was worth a try. "Let's give it a shot," she said, feeling overwhelmed with gratitude for someone with greater social competence.

    Severus' eyes went wide, but he ended up smiling hesitantly, and turned his head down so his hair fell in front of his face. "If it isn't sustainable, we'll consider other options."

    What on earth was this? Hermione couldn't get her head around it, even though she took some deep breaths, and she walked fatiguedly to the bedroom, where she crawled under the bedcovers, barely kicking off her shoes.

    Severus and Erika followed her, and silently, they joined her on the bed. The two of them lay on top of the coverlet, while she snuggled beneath it, but Severus accio'ed a fluffy throw blanket from a chair and draped it across their laps. Then he proceeded to snuggle as close to Hermione as possible, and his hand rested gently in the space between her neck and ear, his fingers gently lapping at her earlobe.

    Erika, for her part, snuggled into the crook of his arm, saying "I brought my Kindle."

    Hermione murmured a wordless sound and buried her head in the pillow. Then, feeling a desperate need for contact, she turned over and pressed her face into Severus' large soft tum instead. He responded by weaving his fingers into her hair kindly, moving in long, languid strokes.

    She fell asleep there, to the tune of two persons' breathing - Severus and Erika.

    It was somewhat unnerving, but strangely soothing.
     
  7. Nov 15, 2015 #67

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

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    Chapter 50

    Chapter Text

    Hermione awoke again feeling like she had a mouth full of wool. Also she felt far too hot. She ripped herself away from the warm spot that she had been occupying and she turned and stared out the window. The sun was lower in the sky than she remembered, and she had a brief moment of panic as she worried whether she'd missed her classes. Then she remembered that she had cancelled them, and she took a deep stabilizing breath.

    There was no light on in the room, though the sun setting in the west was casting a golden glow over everything in the bedroom.

    Then she felt something soft stir next to her, and her head rose from the warm nest of blankets that draped around her. Everything was so soft and gentle to the touch. Most of the time she didn't have the brain space to notice these things, but she luxuriated in it now.

    Crookshanks poked his grizzled head from between the sheets and mewed at her plaintively.

    "I'm sorry, lovely," she said, stifling a yawn. She was sad to see that Severus and Erika were not there. It wasn't as if she was fair to expect their undivided attention, of course, when she was sleeping... but it would have been so much better to wake up next to them.

    She heaved herself out of bed reluctantly, petted Crookshanks dutifully, and plodded into the kitchenette. She was desperately hungry, and she looked around for signs that Erika or Severus had left something to eat.

    It came as a relief to see that Erika had got a box of duty-free chocolates at the airport, and only about a third of them were gone. Hermione happily consumed the rest of the large box as she went to draw herself a bath.

    The water was hot, and she relaxed into it, letting her aching body review what it felt like to decompress. She had not given herself a break in so long.

    She closed her eyes against the steaming water, and let the coziness of the situation overcome her. She felt like all was well in the world, despite her frustrations of earlier. Well, mostly in spite of them. She refused to let herself think about the situations with her parents and with Erika. It was too much for the moment.

    She hear a scratching at the door, and she waved it open with wandless magic - she'd been practicing and trying to build up her skills in this area - and was sadly disappointed to see Crookshanks.

    Where was her boyfriend, and why was she sitting in the bath alone?

    She eventually got herself out of the bath, drew a robe around her laxly, and padded back to her couch. It still bore the vague imprint of three arses - one enormous, one fairly substantial, and one quite a lot smaller. With a sigh, she made herself comfortable there, and summoned the remainder of the chocolates she hadn't hastily downed.

    She'd slept a long time, and now she felt completely disoriented.

    However, there was no time like the present for a bit of dinner, even though it was merely five, so she clapped her hands and ordered from the houself that showed itself there.

    She found herself absently ordering a modest amount - more curtailed than most of her meals of late. Some sausages, some potatoes, some fried leeks, some peas in butter. And as these all showed themselves in front of her, she found her mouth watering for more.

    The potatoes were whipped with cream and butter, flavored with a hint of chive and paprika, and Hermione found herself quaffing the lot of them. The peas were interspersed with celery and carrot, and had a hint of onion flavor as well. The leeks were greasy and hot, and were luscious to tear into, with their strong scent and unusual texture. Then, last, was the taste of the sausages. The sausages given her were chicken with apple and sun-dried tomato, and were exceptionally cooked, plump and hot and when speared they made the slightest sound of deflating, as if it were a subtle balloon. The sausages cut perfectly as Hermione sliced them and brought them to her mouth, and she relished the hearty taste.

    All too soon, she was left without any more food in front of her, and she lazily contemplated whether or not she wanted to proceed further in gorging herself.

    And as it happened, given her recent gluttonous habits, the result was that she decided yes, she did deserve to eat some more. She did miss lunch that day, after all. Not to mention breakfast.

    And so, soon enough, she found herself facing a large bowl of pasta, nearly the size of her arse. It was covered in the sweetest and most delicious Alfredo white sauce, with pine nuts and savory tomato, drizzled with a flavor of pepper and Gorgonzola to make it more dimensional in its flavors, but Hermione could do nothing more than inhale the whole ruddy thing. The food was so thick, and yet so bold, and she ached with every part of her being as she swallowed it all, hungrily.

    Then, too soon, she began to feel the telltale pressure on the inside of her belly which alerted her that yes, she was indeed getting far too full. She slurped down the remaining noodles before her tum could protest, and then with a sense of victory, she toddled over to her bed and collapsed upon it, belly up.

    She closed her eyes and luxuriated in the sense of completion and satisfaction that warmed her, and her fingers began to knead the soft folds of her belly with her fingers. She felt curious and relaxed, and exploratory, and she relished the lack of urgency. Her warm robe fell open, merely framing her instead of covering her, and it felt soft and cozy beneath her splendidly wide arse.

    It was so nice to just *feel* herself in the quiet of her bedroom, alone. The silence seemed to reverberate around her, encompassing her and making her feel acutely aware of everything. There was no sound but the faintest insinuation of the wind outside the windowpanes, and Hermione's own deep breathing. All she could feel and see was in her immediate vicinity. It was gloriously quiet.

    She took a deep breath, and fell into a dreamlike reverie. The warmth of her stuffed tum, the smoothness of her soft skin, the way her pudgy fingers played along the sides of her distended, growing belly... it all served to seduce her, make her hunger for something more compelling than even food.

    With her fingers aching to exert their power over something more substantial than her mere skin, she found them wandering across the hills and valleys of her tum until they reached the pubic area, where they entered the dense forest she grew there. Her fingers then twisted among her hairs, testing their strength and wending their way through the tendrils, pulling here and stroking there.

    It wasn't a stretch of the imagination to extend their attention to her wetter parts. Soon her fingers submerged themselves into the sweet slick place within her labia majora. It was a pleasurable experience, and it definitely felt naughty.

    Hermione had done her fair share of masturbation in her life, but she often found herself avoiding it when she was in a relationship. Since being with Severus, she'd rarely had occasion for pleasuring herself. But this particular moment, she couldn't help herself. And that's really what made it feel even more forbidden, salacious, and delightfully dirty.

    She had made herself horny simply by the simple act of eating. Horny to the point where she couldn't even wait until her boyfriend came back to please herself. And she couldn't even bring herself to feel guilty about it.

    No, her fingers, while out of practice, were quick on the uptake, and soon began to commence stroking that particular area that Hermione found so pleasing and ravishing. She felt spasms of pleasure catch her bated breath, and she spread her legs wider as if to accommodate someone there.

    And, despite herself, she began to imagine Erika licking her. Frenziedly, enthusiastically, licking Hermione's pussy clean.

    She was completely unaware of what it was she was imagining until she was already well caught up in her fantasy. As she began to realize what was happening, she tried to shut it down. But as she closed her eyes and tried to close her mind to the fantasy, she found it only made it worse.

    Erika - a woman she'd known for all of ten minutes, essentially - was a completely verboten person to objectify. She wasn't even nearly as round and plump as Hermione generally liked, which made it all the more interesting.

    Hermione had a brief illumination as she orgasmed for the first time - this was probably something to do with jealousy, she rationalized - but it was nonetheless noteworthy. She found there was some tears underneath that orgasm - some pent-up emotion she had been waiting to expend, somehow.

    It took her a few minutes of crying into her pillow to start feeling all right again. She realized she really needed the stimulation tonight, for whatever reason.

    Then, she took several deep breaths, and began to start up her engine again. She closed her eyes, and continued to rub one out, and her fingers were thick and slick with her own juices.

    But as she orgasmed a second time, a bit more vocally than the first time, she heard the front door of her apartment close, and heavy footsteps in the hall.

    "Hermione?" came Severus' voice, and with a few unhesitating steps he came to the open bedroom door. His eyes were wide to see Hermione spread across the bed as she was, and he simply raised an eyebrow and smirked.

    "Is she alright?" came a feminine voice from behind Severus' bulk, and Severus quickly turned around and deftly hid Erika's eyes in his voluminous chest.

    "I think that Hermione's quite all right," said Severus with a grin, trying to maneuver Erika out of eyeshot. "Let's give her some privacy, shall we?"

    "Erm," Erika said, not picking up on the hint. She tore herself away from Severus' grasp, and turned her head to see Hermione haphazardly covering herself with her robe. "Oh. Erm. Sorry," she apologized, realizing she'd committed a faux pas, "We thought you were still asleep. He's only been to check on you like twelve times all day."

    "Erika!" Severus moaned, proceeding to gently shove his girlfriend out of Hermione's room, "The door."

    "Of course," Erika said with an eyeroll. "Sorry again to interrupt you. Take your time and finish."

    Hermione reddened - was her activity so obvious that a relative stranger could see what she was doing? - and most determinedly did *not* finish, because that was impolite to do when company was afoot.

    Still, as she shoved on a dress and robes and thrust her feet into some house slippers, she was curious what sort of things were in Erika's mind as she'd left the room. And whether or not Erika had any interest in playing with Hermione, the way Hermione was interested in playing with her.
     
  8. Nov 15, 2015 #68

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

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    Chapter 51: hermione's mom issues

    Chapter Text

    "I couldn't help but notice," Erika went on as Severus frowned into his mug of tea, "that you've got very lovely skin on your upper thighs, Hermione."

    Erika seemed bound and determined to make this experience as awkward as possible, Hermione felt. She felt frumpy and somehow old as she sat in front of the fire, feet against the grate, unwinding her latest knitting disaster. Erika was sharing biscuits between the two magical people, and Hermione was eating them as fast as Erika could get them out of the package.

    "It almost makes me wonder," Erika went on, joyfully saucy, her eyes glinting with intrigue, "what it'd taste like?"

    "That's enough," said Severus, and he was blushing furiously red. He seemed to be quite the fish out of water, and was unable to get a hold of the situation. It must have been so uncomfortable for him, that suave manager of human dynamics, forced to crumble beneath the whims of two women flirting with each other.

    Wait. Hermione's brain nearly popped out of her skull. Did she really tell herself that she was *flirting* with Erika?

    But there it was, that was the truth. And the truth was exhilarating.

    Hermione tried her best to keep a straight face as she tried to think of an appropriate... nay, inappropriate response.

    "It takes one to know one, I suppose," Hermione said, trying to keep her tone carefully neutral.

    But Erika knew better, and her eyes were dancing. She pushed some more biscuits towards Hermione's waiting hand. "Severus," Erika crooned, sitting back and smiling at their mutual boyfriend, "I can't believe you didn't tell me what a sex dumpling you had."

    "Well." Severus didn't seem to have a cogent response at the tip of his tongue, for once in his life, and Hermione scooped him.

    "The feeling is mutual," said Hermione, pleased to have effectively thrown the ball back to Erika for a repartee.

    Erika simply grinned in response. They didn't have to overdo it.

    Frankly, there were a lot of things happening in this situation. First, attraction. Hermione was instinctively attracted to Erika in a very carnal way. Second, convenience. Erika was convenient, she was here, and moreover she was already fucking Severus. (Hermione had slyly confirmed by a whispery glance at Severus' trousers, which were distinctly rumpled in such a way as suggested he'd had them off in the recent past.) Third, availability. Hermione knew without a doubt that Erika was available. Not only was she already fucking Hermione's boyfriend, she was polyamorous. And Hermione was interested in seeing what exactly that meant.

    It is important for the sake of this story that we clarify the following: Hermione, at this stage of her life, had never fulfilled a sexual relationship with a girl. She'd been too timid to respond positively to Ginny Weasley's fey experimentations during the TriWizard cup, and ever since, well, Hermione had endured several feminine crushes, but not actively pursued any of them beyond trying to suggest good books for them to read. (Usually this was not well reciprocated and only further bolstered her appearance of being a swotty bookworm, and not in a good way.)

    Hermione had, at this point, only made it past the stage of her attraction to women where she had figured out that flirting was something she could do with women, and should do with women if she intended to pursue any, ever. She had not, however, figured out the logistics of such things - including how to get a woman in her bed. Indeed, for reasons mostly relating to convenience, Hermione ended up with men a good deal of the time. Men were simply easier to come by, and more likely to demonstrate interest in her.

    So for Hermione to be on the receiving end of flirting with a woman was particularly exciting and new.

    Unfortunately for Hermione, she was a bit prone to assuming that polyamorous was the same as unbridled slut (and I use that word in a reclaiming, victorious, empowering fashion). Which assumption has some bearing on this chapter.

    In any case, Hermione was interested, Erika seemed interested, and all was right in the world.

    I wish I could say that they simply all tumbled into bed together after this - Erika to lick Hermione's soft thigh skin, and vice versa, and Severus to put his head between their two cunts and pleasure them until they moaned in unison - but unfortunately for us (at least for the moment), Hermione's parents still were in the picture. And they certainly were not interested in partaking in, or witnessing, such activities. (This was something that Hermione was 99% sure about.)

    In any case. Hermione sat there in front of the fire, rolling her tongue over biscuits that she chewed slowly whilst relishing, and teasing apart the latest horror of mess that had emerged from her knitting basket. Erika sat, cross-legged, on the rug, with a book in her hand that she was only half-reading. And Severus sat on the couch, his laptop hovering in front of him, a hand resting on his ponderous belly while he read from online journal articles.

    This was how Rachel and Oliver found them all when they came to visit for dinner.

    "How are you after your sleep?" asked Hermione of both her parents, whose jetlagged selves had been put to bed as well since their arrival.

    "Ah, much better, splendid," said Oliver, sitting down next to Severus on the couch immediately. "I'm glad to have had a bit of shut-eye. Rachel, dear, how are you feeling?"

    "Have been better," Rachel said. She looked even more intense than earlier, with a deeply furrowed brow and narrowed eyes. "Didn't sleep much."

    "It's hard getting acclimated to this soggy old island again," Oliver said smoothly, trying to make up for his wife's brusqueness.

    This interaction set the tone for much of the evening. Oliver was placating, doddering, and sometimes even beseeching. Rachel seemed to become harder and more cold with every passing minute.

    It finally escalated to the point where Rachel seemed inclined to bite the heads off everyone who approached her for anything, and Oliver seemed profoundly troubled by his wife's agitated behavior.

    "So I hope you'll be coming with us tomorrow," Rachel said, "back to the old house."

    Hermione looked startled. "Erm. The old house. It actually was sold some time ago. I couldn't do anything; the bank repossessed it since I couldn't pay the mortgage."

    "You shipped us off to Australia," Rachel said, her eyes burning, "and you couldn't be bothered to pay the mortgage?"

    Of course, at the time that this had all happened, Hermione had been scared out of her wits and in constant peril, living in hiding in the forest of Dean. But Hermione didn't know how she could explain that to her parents.

    Instead of responding, she just stared into her plate. It was looking a bit empty, so she compulsively reached for a serving spoon to get some more rice.

    "I knew it," Rachel said with a sense of finality, "I knew it. How... classically irresponsible of you, Hermione. You ship us off to Australia and you don't even bother keeping the home that your father and I worked to own for so many years."

    "I mean," Hermione said, squirming, "you still have plenty of money, right? Trust me, mum, if there was a way where I could save the house, I would have, but-"

    "-And all for what?" Rachel interrupted fiercely, standing up. "For the sake of living in a magic castle?"

    Hermione was stunned. Is that all her mother had been able to process in the past twelve hours? She'd told them about the war, about fighting for justice, about how she'd been on the front lines helping her friend win a major war, about how they'd nearly starved to death in the woods and she was tortured by evil Death Eaters as a prisoner of war... and her mother thought she cared about a ruddy castle?

    "Well, Hermione, we have seen your magic castle," Rachel said, her head sitting proudly upon her shoulders. "You have introduced us to your professors, and to your boyfriend - in the same stroke, which was genius." Rachel had a bit of a smirk in her voice, though her face betrayed no such emotion. "And now when we ask you, what do we do now, you tell us we can do anything we want - because no matter what, you are going to let us wend out own ways to our graves, and how we get there doesn't matter to you."

    Hermione's eyes were wide. She had never, ever seen this much anger in her mother before. And she had no idea what to say. She cast a worried glance at Severus, who appeared thoughtful. She also looked at Erika, who merely looked worried.

    Rachel went on, "You get what you deserve, Hermione. And what you deserve is to be alone until you eat yourself to death."

    Hermione had no idea what to say to all this, but Severus had heard enough, and he was quick to throw a stupefy at Rachel. This meant that Hermione's mum was paralyzed, unable to speak or move.

    Severus approached her carefully even so, as if expecting her to snap out of her binding. He cast a wand over her mother's skull, and gently cast an illuminating spell. Rachel's brain became visible, lit up in different colors like in a biology textbook.

    "Erika," called Severus, staring closely at the visual. He gestured at one particular section and colored it brighter with his wand. "This is the area related to paranoid ideation, am I correct?"

    "Of course," Erika responded, looking over Severus' thick meaty shoulder. "And it's bright as all get out."

    "Yes," Severus said with a wince. "I'm going to attempt to repeat the procedure we worked on together to isolate the items in her brain."

    He proceeded to whisk around different aspects of Rachel's brain like he was unwrapping a very complicated present, with layer upon layer of paper. He puzzled over it for several minutes until he identified what he seemed to be looking for.

    "Ah," he said calmly, "see this?"

    He gestured in a haphazard motion. Both women stepped forward, realizing as they did so that they both knew Severus' tics and how to respond to them. Erika looked into Hermione's eyes and grinned delightedly. Erika's large brown eyes were wide and intelligent, and her lips pulled apart so invitingly. Hermione found herself relaxing into a brief fantasy about flirting with them.

    That is, until Severus pulled her physically over to look inside her mother's brain.

    "This is the area that is activated when your mother thinks of her husband," Severus said, pointing to a large mass of neural connections colored in hues of red, pink, and purple. "And this is the area that is activated when your mother thinks of you." He gestured at an even larger set of neural networks that were those same colors in the center of the most dense areas, but were mostly glowing a dull, swampy green. It looked like a moldy hamburger that needed some more time on the grill. "There is a difference, I'm sure you see."

    Hermione nodded, and a lump of dread began to grow in her throat. "She hates me," she said, feeling small and vulnerable as it began to dawn on her what kind of permanent damage had been done.

    "It's a perfectly logical biological mechanism," Severus said, not skipping a beat. "I've seen this before in other long term memory modified persons. Do you understand how a memory charm works from a biological standpoint? It's fascinating.

    "Memory storage is nearly infinite, though a good amount of what we think of as memory is only a fraction of the actual memory content we contain. Muscle memory is one of those key areas that is rarely addressed in school, and that's by design - it's far more dangerous to mess with that, since it relates to the autonomic functions like breathing. But I digress.

    "Memory is essentially infinite. A memory charm does not destroy the memories targeted - it merely shuts down the areas of the brain where these memories are stored. Eglantine Spengler is one of the few academic witches who bothers to toy around with muggle technology, and she identified that when certain shut down areas of the brain are stimulated, those memories are shown to be present, just suppressed.

    "However, just as with Alzheimer's patients, the longer areas of the brain are suppressed, the more likely it is that they will never be activated again. The memories trapped there grow harder and harder to access, until they become nearly completely untraceable. This is why memory charms have the illusion of wiping someone's memory completely, even though this simply is a misnomer.

    "Shutting down tiny areas of the brain on sporadic occasions rarely has an effect. However, there can be cumulative damage compiled when there is a sufficient quotient of repeated exposure, exposure dosages, and exposure duration."

    "It's like radiation," Erika explained concisely. Hermione just nodded, mutely. She looked at her father, who had pressed his face against his hands and was staring sadly at his wife as she remained frozen and incapacitated.

    "On top of that," Severus went on, "The person whose magic was used to alter the person's mind damages the very chemical makeup of the brain. A small dose of memory modification won't hurt you, and is relatively simple to heal. However, a more serious alteration will leave more drastic damage. This damage will usually result in one of two diametric symptoms: pathy or antipathy, depending on the way the neurochemicals of the invader's brain correspond with the neurochemicals of the invaded person's brain. Compounded with the amount of time, this damage can spread like rot. In this case, your mother's toxic brain is poisoning areas unrelated to the point of entry that you used, which was her memory center related to you. It's slowly spreading. One of the ways that it's already changed her brain is that it's mutated some of the matter of her brain, converting it to something that is at least genetically very similar to paranoia. A portion of the damaged matter is surrounding the point of entry, as I already described."

    "So what does that all mean?" asked Oliver, sounding pathetic and sad.

    "It means that Rachel has sustained some serious and likely irreversible damage to certain parts of her brain containing associations with Hermione," Severus said, and he appeared somewhat apologetic and less clinical as he met her eyes.

    "Irreversible?" Hermione asked, and she began to realize that she could see where Severus was heading with this line of reasoning. "What does that mean, exactly?"

    "There's only one way to stave off a complete psychotic takeover of her brain," Severus said, "and that's to contain the rotted area and seal it up again, make it inaccessible to her so that it stops the spread. It's almost cancerous in how it proceeds, so it needs to be done swiftly."

    "Then go ahead," Oliver said, standing up and approaching his wife. He reached out and touched her hand, and seemed surprised that it was warm. "She isn't herself."

    "What does that mean, though?" Hermione asked. "Will she see me as a stranger again?"

    "I'm not an expert on this," Severus said, but his face read clearly that he knew something terrible that he wasn't willing to share, "so we'd best take her to St. Mungo's for help."

    Hermione nodded glumly. She felt a certain warmth near her hand, and she saw that Erika was offering her hand to hold. Hermione took it, not sure how to respond otherwise.
     
  9. Nov 15, 2015 #69

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

    hufflepuff hobbit

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    tw: depressive ideation
    Chapter Text

    Hermione ended that day in bed with Erika. Not in the way you might be expecting, and not in the way I have been hoping. But it was the right way, for the moment, and that was all there was to it.

    Hermione, Severus, and Erika returned from St. Mungo's with Oliver in tow. It was very late at night at this point, and they returned via the floo to Hermione's sitting room. Severus was deeply withdrawn into himself, barely saying a word to anyone, collapsing into the sofa and tucking his head down and gazing in front of him through the greasy strands of his hair.

    Erika seemed unable to decide what to say, and instead kept asking each person in the group if they were all right, to the point where it was nearly annoying. She looked a bit on edge, and disinclined to relax.

    Oliver seemed excessively weary, and Hermione began to realize how old he seemed. There was a stiffness to his walk that she couldn't remember, and a slowness of his processing speed that belied some additional damage to his own brain from the severe and long-lasting memory charms.

    "I hope she'll be all right there, alone," Oliver said, looking sad. He dabbed his eyes on his shirt-sleeve for the fifth time and Severus, with some annoyance, drew a handkerchief out of his sleeve and nearly threw it at the older man. Erika intercepted it and gently offered it to Oliver. Then, as he accepted it tearfully, he caught Hermione's eye. And the poorly-affected strength he'd adopted crumbled completely in an instant, and soon he was grasping Hermione tightly, sobbing on her shoulder as she rubbed his back.

    She'd never had to comfort her father before. He was truly crying like a little child. What had happened to them? Hermione could scarcely guess.

    The weight of guilt had been settling upon her even more and more heavily throughout the evening as the troupe had gone to St. Mungo's and checked Rachel into the Ward for Unfortunate Muggles. She'd been given calming potions and sedated, though that didn't stop her suspicious scowl towards Hermione whenever Hermione entered the room.

    Indeed, Hermione was deeply afraid that her mother was irrevocably changed. How could her mother reject her so forcefully, and so mindlessly? It was so irrational. And all the things she'd said - trust me, dear readers, you don't want to have read everything the woman said to Hermione, nor do I wish to write them - they stuck in a place deep inside Hermione's heart.

    Now, instead of thinking of her parents as benevolently meddlesome and pushy, but enthusiastically supportive of her success... now she was having to sort out the idea that her parents were perhaps not as good of people as she thought they were. Or, at least, this was true of her mother. Her father, poor soul... she had no idea what to think of what was happening to him.

    No, Hermione was now thinking about Neville, and his parents, and their mental states. They were affected by memory spells - deeply malevolent ones, among other tortures - and now were permanently in St. Mungo's due to their inability to care for themselves. She didn't think the same fate would come to her parents... but what if it did?

    Hermione had things to talk about with Neville, that was for sure.

    So Hermione was hugging her father, and with every sob her own heart broke over and over again. The reason he was like this was because of *her* and the fact that she'd tried to do too much with too few skills and resources.

    Yes, Hermione reasoned with herself, that was probably why she hadn't fetched her parents from Australia a lot sooner. She must have had an inkling that once she did, she'd have to face the facts that she'd taken on too much, and made costly errors as a result.

    Errors that might have, in fact, cost her at least one of her parents.

    .........

    Soon, Oliver fell asleep on the couch. He clearly didn't want to be left alone, and Hermione transformed said couch slightly wider and had the house elves bring fresh linens for him, so it was quite comfortable. She asked Minty to keep an eye on him during the night, lest he need her kindness. Minty agreed that she might be of service to him, and that was that.

    She quietly retreated to the bedroom with Erika and Severus once Oliver had closed his eyes.

    "Are we going to say anything to your father?" hissed Severus as he quietly closed the door.

    Hermione just numbly shook her head. She felt such despair over the situation - why did it have to be this way? And why did it have to be *her* fault?

    Hermione was no stranger to feeling guilt, but this experience was simply the worst she had ever endured.

    Severus seemed to see her blank response, and he rolled his lips more tightly and looked pleadingly at Erika, seeking a cue.

    "You don't seem all right," Erika said, finally confident enough to decide that Hermione needed her own emotions to be translated to her. "Lay down."

    Not needing to be told twice, Hermione lay on the bed, and closed her eyes. She felt like she needed to sleep for at least twelve hours.

    "Do you mind if I lay next to you?" Erika asked, and Hermione just made a noise in the negative, keeping her eyes closed.

    She felt the brush of satin as the other woman got in the bed with her, and soon she felt a tentative warm hand approaching hers.

    "Do you mind if I hold your hand?" Erika asked, and Hermione indicated this would be all right. Soon one of Erika's hot, soft hands were wrapped around her own, and she felt Erika's other hand floating over her shoulder.

    "Would you like a hug?" Erika asked, and Hermione just nodded yes.

    Then Erika wrapped herself around Hermione. The other girl was deceptively soft and squishy in ways that Hermione relished; while she really was more pudgy than fat, Erika was a pleasure to be embraced by.

    The warm and coconut scent of Erika made Hermione want to relax into her own sobbing.

    "Do you mind if I tell you something?" Hermione asked, and Erika grunted in the affirmative.

    "Even if it's really bad?"

    Again, Erika affirmed in the positive.

    Hermione began to cry at this, and she began to choke as she tried to suppress her own sobs.

    She noticed vaguely that the bed creaked near her foot, and she felt Severus ease himself down at the end of the bed and stretch out. She couldn't get a read on him right now, and she didn't care.

    "What is it?" Erika prompted, and Hermione buried her face in Erika's shoulder.

    "I'm feeling so deeply guilty about this," Hermione confessed. "My parents... they've changed. And as we know, on a biological level. They literally aren't the same anymore, because of me. And I think I just... left them there... even though I knew that I had overextended myself when I did all those memory modification charms and even though I knew I'd put them in great danger."

    "Shh," Erika said, and Hermione felt Erika rocking slightly, back and forth. "It's called cognitive dissonance, or post-hoc rationalization, or whatever. And it's all right. If you were a computer then I'd be concerned, but this is a foible unique to human beings. I've done the same sort of thing a lot."

    "But ever of this scope?" Hermione asked dramatically, feeling a fresh wave of tears emerge.

    "...perhaps not," Erika said, wisely not trying to engage Hermione in some convoluted and irrelevant story, "but Severus has."

    "Thanks, Erika," drawled Severus, and it became clear to Hermione that he was raptly attending to every word. She opened her eyes and looked down the bed, and she saw him laying across the bed, looking immensely casual as he propped up his head on his folded elbow. His belly jutted forward with a sense of careless pride, and at any other moment she'd want to eat him up - particularly given the intense way he was staring at her.

    But at the moment, Hermione could no more think of sex than commit it, and she drew Erika in a tighter embrace. "I guess so," Hermione acknowledged, and she felt Severus readjust himself and touch her foot. Her foot was covered in blankets, but he grasped it firmly, and began to massage it through the quilt. It was quite comforting and cozy.

    Hermione drew a few deep breaths. "But I don't know what to do now," she said, and as she voiced this fear, her sobs bubbled up again, and she began to cry outright. "My dad cried today. I've never seen him cry before. What do I do now? And my mother might never speak to me again because she's suffering delusions that I'm a monster. What can I do?"

    "Nothing," Severus said, and pressed his lips against the top of Hermione's foot to kiss her. "And that's the tough bit. We have to wait for the evals to be done tomorrow by the specialist, and until then, we merely wait."

    "But what if I *am* a monster?" Hermione asked, and she began to sob incoherently in Erika's shoulder.

    Severus heaved himself up - Hermione felt the bed creak underneath him - and moved himself up to cuddle Hermione on the other side. "This talk I will not tolerate," he said firmly. "Hermione, not only are you the most intelligent and most hard-working witch of your generation, you've made an impact on the world incomparable to anyone else I've ever met. And your humility and good humor are still intact, which is more than I can say for lesser wizards."

    He pronounced this last word with significant distaste, and Hermione could read between the lines that he meant Harry and Ron, but was holding himself back, for her.

    She felt his breath against her neck, and his arm drape below the curve of her luscious tum, and she felt the way his soft, sumptuous body melded against her like a warm soft lump of clay against a mold.

    She responded by holding Erika closer, and as she moved slightly away from him, he tightened his own grasp on her, following her across the few inches of the bed until he was just as firmly holding her.

    Hermione didn't say several of the things that she was feeling that night - that she wasn't worth it, that she was a terrible person for doing what she had done to her parents and being so cavalier about it, that she was so burdened with guilt that she was physically pained - but somehow Severus and Erika persevered and clasped Hermione until she drifted off into an uncomfortable and unhappy sleep.

    ............











    Notes:

    please leave comments and reviews! Please! also don't forget about blog with art for this fic. To get there, try putting this in your search bar without the spaces: grow ing - fat molly . tum blr. c o m

    If that doesn't work try the following.

    a. Search in your favorite search engine for tumblr

    b. once you've found tumblr, do a search there for the following "growing mollyweisser11"

    It should be there immediately unless you have enabled safe search / aren't able to see things that aren't NSFW. The blog has explicit imagery and is not appropriate for children.

    If you have time to review it'd be appreciated! A lot of time I post chapters and it feels like no one is reading and it is very demotivating. :( reviews - especially really thoughtful ones - inspire me and make me write faster because it feels like I'm trying to entertain an audience that's really excited to see my updates :)
     
  10. Nov 16, 2015 #70

    tinkerbell_22

    tinkerbell_22

    tinkerbell_22

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    I love your story. I'm a huge harry potter fan and I love the depth you're bringing to the characters. It feels more like an addition to harry potter with a touch of weight gain than a weight gain story. If I had to add anything it would be a little more description of the weight gain. Hermione put on 14 pounds but I didn't get a sense of what that change did to her body. But it was inconsiquential to my enjoyment of the story. Write more please! :)
     
  11. Nov 21, 2015 #71

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

    hufflepuff hobbit

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    Chapter 53: menage a trois

    Chapter Text

    Predictably, after so much extra sleep during the rest of the day, Hermione found herself awoken at two in the morning. She stared up at the ceiling for a few minutes. It was charmed to take on the ombre of the night sky outside, giving a subtle suggestion that one was sleeping out of doors. It glittered at her, indicating that it was probably clear outside, with sighting of stars.

    She was well wedged in between Severus and Erika, and Erika had one arm draped around Hermione, holding her tight, while Severus was turned towards the wall, but as if to make up for it, his foot had snaked around her ankle, and he was also hugging a pillow profoundly.

    Hermione unwound herself from Erika's arm, feeling a desperate need to use the bathroom, and she saw Severus' head turn abruptly. His eyes met hers, though she only knew from the slight glisten where they caught the light of the moon from outside.

    "Been a ruddy awful day, hasn't it?" Hermione whispered, as Severus slipped out from under the covers to allow her exit. "How are you faring?"

    "Not well," he responded carefully, "mostly bored, though. I swear I've been staring at that wall for an hour."

    "I'm sorry, that sucks," Hermione said quietly, getting up from the bed. She was satisfied with the little extra heave she had to put into that particular operation - her belly was starting to get in the way of things like standing up from sitting. "I need to use the loo - do you want to play a game or something in the main room?"

    He frowned, as if he'd had something else in mind entirely, but on the face of it he agreed, "Certainly. Whatever you'd like to do."

    She could hear him practically screaming that he wanted something else, but whatever it was could wait.

    She dashed on tiptoe into the bathroom, completed her ablutions, and returned to the main room where Severus had pulled out the chess board charm and was impatiently waiting for her to make the first move.

    "We don't have to play if you don't want to," Hermione said, sitting down on the sofa next to him instead of at the opposite side of the board. "Penny for your thoughts?"

    He appeared initially disgruntled at the change in plans; perhaps he was not as awake as he thought he was. In either case, he let his arm drape around her shoulders, and he sighed, letting his head turn down and his hair fall along his cheeks, hiding his eyes and framing his chubby face.

    "I'm glad you're getting on with Erika so well," he said, after several moments where he seemed to fight with himself about what he wanted to say. "But I'm worried that you're upset that I left with her while you were sleeping earlier."

    Hermione did a quick mental check-in with herself about this. She'd been lonely, true, but not really upset. Also according to Erika, he'd come to check on her an excessive amount, which was probably because of his feeling guilty. But it wasn't an unproductive loneliness; she'd pleasured herself like she imagined they had been doing, and while it was somewhat alienating, it was also relaxing, and the neurochemicals she'd earned then had helped her cope with the rest of the tumultuous day.

    "Don't worry," she reassured him, wrapping her arms around his waist and appreciating the way his multiple rolls of belly sloshed and jiggled as she pressed against him. His muscles seemed tense, as if he'd been ruminating on this for hours. "I wasn't jealous. I needed to get off, so I did, and while I was a little bit lonely, it ended up being exactly what I needed."

    She felt his diaphragm expand underneath her arm, and he seemed to relax just the smallest bit. But not entirely. "Thank you," he said softly, not looking at her. He stared straight ahead at where the chess board emanated indigo and blue light, the only light in the room.

    Hermione, for her part, simply drew back his hair - it was in some ways one of Severus' juvenile habits that she'd began to see him doing more frequently as he let her get closer to him. He could be honest with her, unlike the rest of the world, but sometimes that vulnerability meant that he needed to hide his face - and she kissed him on his soft cheek, letting her lips linger, breathing on his gentle (if somewhat chronically oily) skin.

    Severus' body began to tense in a distinctly different way, and then he smirked, and looked straight into her eyes. They were close enough that his angular nose was just a hair's breadth away from her own.

    Hermione, for her part, relished the intense spike of adrenaline she got whilst waiting for him to kiss her. He held off for several minutes more than she could have - his breathing was steady, but she could see he was trying to keep himself from pursuing her lips, to build up the momentum.

    Then, the exact moment that Hermione felt she couldn't wait anymore, she blinked and he pressed his lips into hers. He was hot, and rough, and he nipped and sucked at her lower lip with passionate energy.

    This kind of game meant that he'd been very horny for a very long time. Chances are he never fully got to sleep, Hermione mused as her hand wandered down south below Severus' massive belly overhang, given the hardness and eagerness of his cock.

    He moaned as she touched him, grasping his cock through the fabric of his nightgown. "Gentle," he admonished through his pleasurable noise, "I won't last long, and I'm close to the edge now." In a more seductive tone he added, "Just feeling your incredible bosom pressed against me has got me entirely too excited."

    Hermione raised her eyebrow, and pecked him on the cheek with a kiss. "What would you have me do instead?"

    In response, he pressed his lips against hers once more. This was a short kiss, and then he kissed her on either side of her delicate mouth. Even these kisses were strong, full of conviction and flavor. They were enough to make anyone woozy and giddy.

    "I've got something fairly important to attend to first," he said.

    Without another word, he threw off Hermione's grasp and struggled his body into sitting on the floor.

    "Open wide," he said with a grin, and it took her several minutes to realize that what he wanted was to *pleasure* her, not examine her. Though examining was indeed part and parcel of their usual practices!

    She then proceeded to remove her own pyjama pants, which were pleasingly tight around the middle and she had to squeeze herself out of them. It was particularly difficult because she was bound and determined not to move her fat arse from the seat of the sofa. She grabbed the unhappy elastic of the waist and yanked over one buttock cheek, then with some maneuvering managed to get the other one off as well.

    Severus, for his part, was already as deep into her crotch as he could get. He was on all fours - the only way he was going to be able to access her where she sat, given the ponderousness of his belly would get in the way. Once she got the trousers off the butt, he yanked with his teeth. It was incredibly sexy to watch him drag it off her feet, like a huge fat dog, even though he pulled a few of her hairs.

    Soon her clothing was discarded, and he was having his way with her clit and labias, sucking and biting and licking, licking, *licking,* *LICKING...*

    "Oh fuck," Hermione cried out, moaning with pleasure and ecstasy as he brought her to climax. He kept at it like a workhorse, not giving up or even slowing down for a moment.

    Hermione found herself practically screaming, "Merlin's balls thank heaven oh gods!" as she climaxed again, a rush of hormones coursing through her body as she relaxed into the pleasure she could scarcely contain.

    But then, suddenly, Severus stopped just as she was about to get over a third orgasm, and Hermione begged, "No, now is not the time for teasing, keep going, keep going!"

    "Yeah," she heard a feminine voice answer from the bedroom door. "Keep going."

    Severus appeared somewhat confused, but as Erika added, "Go on!" he began to do as he was told. There was less fervor to it, but that was all right. Hermione was too abashed to enjoy it.

    "I'm sorry, Erika," she said, feeling like a terrible hostess, "I'm... I'm so sorry. Did we wake you up?"

    "Yeah," Erika said, "but my sleep's all fucked up anyway with the time zone change. Besides, I should be thanking you - sounds like things are too exciting out here to miss!" She paused. "Unless you'd prefer some privacy. I can go back to bed if you want."

    "Oh, erm, no!" Hermione said, and Severus stopped licking abruptly, and sat back on his (plump, delicious, oversized) haunches.

    "What?" he asked, and Hermione met his eyes. He had a sense of panic in his eyes, but there was something else - desire?

    He cast a glance back at Erika, then back at Hermione, then back at Erika, and then back to Hermione. And then he seemed to come to some inner conclusion. "I suppose, if you like, I have no objections."

    Then, with a sense of pride, he began to lick Hermione with renewed effort. He seemed likely to burn out a bit soon, though - she felt drops of sweat fall on her buttery thighs from his brow. He was really too fat to be good a this for very long, and she was impressed with how far he'd trooped.

    "Let me give you a rest, dear," Erika said, and Hermione felt Erika sit on the ground next to Severus with a thump. Severus, for his part, gave a final flick to Hermione's clit with his tongue, and he sat back again, panting hard. "Hermione, do you mind if I pick up where he left off?" Erika asked, and Hermione nearly swooned at the thought.

    "Erm, yes, please," Hermione said, and she felt her body tense up with anticipation.

    Erika's tongue was smaller than Severus', more dainty. Her lips were more soft, though, and she seemed to prefer quality of strokes to quantity; she had a way of waiting just a tiny second or two between strokes, which left Hermione ravenous for more.

    Erika wasn't an amateur at working with the vaginal equipment, that was for sure!

    Hermione found herself flooded with beautiful sensations and feelings. Severus' cunnilingus was robust and effortful, like a reliable engine. Erika's was more like a dance, full of artistic effortlessness that made Hermione squirm. She didn't necessarily prefer one over the other - in fact, at some moments Erika's was slightly annoying because of how unstable and unpredictable it was - but bring her to climax it did, and Hermione found herself riding a rush like she'd never had before.

    Erika pulled back as Hermione screamed with pleasure, and she patted Hermione's delicious thighs. "Mind if I continue putting my mouth to good use?" asked Erika warmly, and all Hermione could do was nod consent.

    Erika's fingers were exploratory and well practiced. Her tongue seemed like it wanted to taste every morsel of Hermione's thighs. She licked and nibbled at Hermione's soft flabbiness, pulling at it here and there.

    In short order, Erika made her way up to Hermione's breasts.

    "You should know," Erika sad as she pressed her face between Hermione's breasts, "I've wanted to touch these since first I saw you."

    "Oh gods," Hermione responded as Erika's lips latched on to one of her nipples, and it was sucking ravenously. Her left hand clasped Hermione's other boob, or so Hermione thought - until she realized that there was another pair of lips on her other breast.

    She opened her eyes from where she was reeling with pleasure, and in her dreamlike state she saw Severus had taken up a post on her left breast whilst Erika worked the one on the right.

    Hermione had never, ever experienced anything like this before - and she figured she probably never would again, so she might as well enjoy it.

    This was certainly enough excitement to put her to sleep, and when one of her lovers put their mouth down under for a final takeoff, Hermione felt like it'd nearly been too much. She felt utterly decadent and spoiled.

    Severus' tongue was on her sopping wet cunt, however, and she went along with it until she reverberated with a final earth-shattering climax that topped all the others she'd had that night.

    As she recovered, she waved both Severus and Erika away from where they eagerly tried to resume giving attention to Hermione's breasts. "Enough," she beseeched, feeling as high as a kite on a windy autumn's day. "Give me a moment to breathe, you two."

    Erika didn't wait a second before rushing Severus, who was panting with his most recent exertions. No sooner was he gasping for breath than he was gasping with pleasure as Erika had found her way underneath the hem of his nightgown to loosen his rock-hard erection with her mouth.

    "Oh Merlin," it was his turn to gasp, and he fell backwards from his crouchng position onto the carpet, where he lay prostrate and spread-eagle while Erika sucked at his wily.

    As he tumbled over, looking every bit an adorable bear and not at all like a scary famous potions professor, his stomach rumbled audibly. And then, Hermione knew she had a role she could play while Erika teased their boyfriend.

    "Mmm," Hermione said, struggling up from the couch. "Let's find something for your hungry tum. That stellar job you did on my cunt cost you a lot of calories."

    "Will it be cunt flavored?" asked Severus foggily, and he shuddered with pleasure on the cusp of arriving.

    "Not unless you want it to be," Hermione said.

    "Please!" he responded urgently.

    Well, shit. She wasn't going to be able to do all that much if he wanted it cunt-flavored.

    She hurried to the kitchenette, her feet landing with an unfamiliar poundy-ness that was satisfying to hear. She opened the freezer and there sat the unlimited bowl of ice cream that she could have sworn had disappeared.

    Well, no matter. She ushured as much as she could into her vagina using the transmutation method he'd taught her, and soon she felt it the sticky vanilla dripping down her legs.

    In no time, she was over Severus' face, and though his eyes were closed, it took him no effort at all to reach up and start licking out her ice-cream filled pussy when she hovered over him in a squat.

    "Oh gods." Whether the ice cream or the short break had helped rejuvenate her, she wasn't sure, but Severus' tongue was hungry, and he wouldn't stop licking and sucking at her dripping cunt.

    The combination of cunt flavored ice cream and Erika's attentions finally drew Severus up the wall, and he orgasmed with a long, shuddering moan that Hermione wasn't entirely accustomed to.

    "Oh gods" Severus whimpered again, "Get me some more?" The ice cream was a bit more messy in this position than in the bed when they'd done it, as it kept dripping a lot.

    Hermione accio'ed a spoon and the remainder of the bowl - of which there was plenty - and began to spoon it into his greedy mouth.

    "You've got quite a bit of space in there," she purred, giving the bowl and spoon into Erika's accommodating hands. Hermione then moved down to hover over Severus' enormous belly. "But is it enough for all the ice cream in that bowl?"

    "There is," moaned Severus between bites, "there is."

    "Hmm," Hermione said, and she began to scrutinize him; through his nightgown it was inconvenient, but she drew it up and rested the hem of it on top of his large tummy, below his flopping breasts. Then his stomach reigned with its immense glory, and Hermione bent down to worship it.

    "It seems like you might," Hermione said teasingly, "but sometimes I worry, Severus, that your eyes might be bigger than your stomach."

    Severus just snorted in response - Erika wasn't giving him much chance to say anything between her swift offerings of ice cream on the spoon.

    "Hmm," Hermione said, poking his belly with one finger and letting her finger sink as deeply as she could manage into Severus' flab. "You do have quite a bit of stomach here, dear. Have you thought about perhaps going on a diet?"

    "What," said Severus, "are you saying I'm fat?"

    "Well, yes, actually," Hermione confessed, pretending sadness. Erika laughed. "I think you've gotten a bit too ample around the tum, Severus - and eating ice cream is only going to make you fatter."

    "Oh well," he responded, and slurped at the spoon audibly. "As you said, I'm fat. Nothing's going to change that."

    Hermione responded by putting her hands on top of his belly and moving her hands in a relaxing motion, pressing against the sides of his stomach, helping to move around the contents of his tum and make it easier to squeeze down the last bit of ice cream.

    Severus, for his part, was eating as if he hadn't eaten all day, and Hermione was impressed by the amount Erika efficiently fed to him.

    Soon enough, the ice cream was gone.

    "Damn," Severus said, and belched. He had never done that before without covering his mouth and hiding it with embarrassment, that Hermione could recall - this one he bore proudly, as he might a battle scar. "I'm still quite peckish."

    "See," Hermione said, laboriously standing up, "you just ate enough to feed an entire army barracks, and what do you want? More! How are you ever going to lose weight this way, Severus?"

    "I won't, I imagine," Severus said, and Hermione saw Erika move to rub his belly in Hermione's stead.

    Hermione, for her part, went to the kitchen and found some biscuits in a tin, and some strawberry preserves. She proceeded to bring over the entire tin and jar over to Severus, and she dipped one biscuit in jam and put it into his mouth before he could snark at her some more.

    "Mmm," was all he could say, as he chewed hungrily.

    All remained quiet for the next quarter hour, as Hermione stuffed Severus' mouth every second, and Erika relaxed Severus' increasingly bloated tum.

    Finally, after reaching nearly the end of the biscuit tin, Severus covered his mouth with his hand and shook his head. It was the signal that he'd eaten more than he should have, and couldn't speak until it compressed a little bit in his overstuffed tum.

    "Good work," Hermione said, as Erika continued to rub Severus' belly. "You...seemed a little quiet."

    Erika grinned in response. "Yeah, well, this is something I can file under as 'your kink not mine,' but I'm happy to do what I can. I wish I could say I wasn't surprised when Sev told me about it this afternoon - I mean, medication makes people gain weight, but his weight ballooned to unreal proportions, you know? So I should have been able to figure it out, particularly since there's a lot of little clues he left me over the years to try and get me to see... it all makes sense, but I couldn't have guessed on my own."

    "Mmmmph," growled Severus with his mouth closed. There was a certain peacefulness about him, though, that Hermione hadn't detected before. He was replete and lazy, and overstuffed with food, and he had two beautiful women to take care of him, it seemed.

    Oh. Thinking about it that way, Hermione could see why he liked this so much. Feeding him was a way of taking care of him - something that, apparently, he craved, after so many years of alienation and loneliness.

    Hermione didn't mind taking care of him, as long as he could do the same for her sometimes.
     
  12. Nov 21, 2015 #72

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

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    awwwwwwww thanks :) I'm glad it feels true to the original author's intent. I suppose part of it is I just wanted a story with fat Hermione and fat Severus, and there's a kinky scene every couple of chapters. It's enough to get flames but apparently not enough to satisfy my horny gluttonous readers ;) Don't worry at all, I try to intersperse a sexy chapter for every 2 of plot. :bow: thanks for the comment made me feel good :)
     
  13. Mar 13, 2016 #73

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

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    Chapter 54: slytherin games

    Chapter Text

    Severus lazed about, his overstuffed stomach protruding above him like a monument to his gluttony, and he lay there with his eyes closed, replete with satisfaction.

    Hermione couldn't help but keep touching him, and her hands roved over the tautness of his belly, feeling the way his skin stretched to accommodate the vast quantities of dessert he'd engulfed.

    Then she realized that she had missed something - Erika was sitting, as stony as a cat observing prey, and even in the dark, Hermione could see that there was the hint of sadness about her features.

    "It's your turn," Hermione said, patting Severus' stomach one final fond time, and she hoisted herself up, using the side of the couch as support. She was rather hungry herself now, but she put that aside for the moment. Erika needed some attention, particularly after her willingness to indulge the two of them so deeply in a kink that she didn't share. "How can I best pleasure you, if you want me to?"

    Erika took a deep breath of relief, as if she'd worried that no one would ask her. "I mean," she said, looking at Severus outstretched on the floor, "What I'd like most of all is a firm hard fucking from our friend here -" And then she poked Severus' big belly with a smirk. "But I don't think that's likely to happen. Will you do the honor instead?"

    Hermione frowned. "Erm, how, exactly?"

    Erika's eyebrows shot up with interest. "You mean, you've never used a strap-on before?"

    Hermione had to sadly agree.

    Erika huffed a bit. "I expect it'd be too much to hope that you even *have* a strap on."

    Hermione was about to respond - of course she didn't have one, who'd she use it on? - but was interrupted by Severus, who answered in a mumbly fashion, "I do."

    "Ah," Erika said, and made eye contact with Hermione. Hermione felt that Erika was trying to make some educated guesses. Then, looking a bit pleased with herself, Erika said with an even greater smirk, "So Sev hasn't told you how much of a little slut he is for anal, has he?"

    "What?" Hermione asked, finding herself laughing at the preposterous idea of Severus being a little slut in any sense of the word.

    "Not yet," admitted Severus, and with great effort, he sat up, and he rolled his eyes. "Oh, don't look so amused, Granger. You know what they say - once you've tasted crack, you never go back."

    "I think you made that up, dearheart," chortled Erika, who was finding the proceedings even more hilarious than Hermione did. "Because I don't know anyone else who says that."

    "Same difference," Severus said with a shrug of his beautifully rounded shoulders. There was a sense of quiet shamelessness about this confession, perhaps even pride. "But I never like it on a full stomach, and with Hermione, that's a rare occurrence indeed."

    "What can I say?" Hermione said, a bit of pride entering her own voice. "I like to keep my men well fed."

    "I think that's obvious," Erika said, her eyes twinkling. "So, Hermione, do you want to have a go at fucking me with a strap-on?"

    The way she said it was so casual, as if she'd said, "So, Hermione, do you want to have a go at this light-hearted friendly croquet match?"

    And, well, to be frank, it was a very inviting invitation. "I'll try it," Hermione said, "though please reserve your high expectations for a future, better practiced me."

    "Well, there's some chutzpah," Erika said with a grin. "Sev, where's your toy - and some condoms?"

    "My room," he said, attempting to ease himself up off the floor and not having a great deal of success. "But I could use some assistance."

    Hermione and Erika both stood, and for the briefest of seconds they hesitated, trying to see which should help their fat-arse boyfriend get his aforementioned fat arse off the ground. But with a sense of mutual decision, they both extended their hands to help him.

    "You'll need us both," Hermione said, feeling her own belly pinch with hunger pains. "You're getting too heavy, my dear."

    "So you keep telling me," mused Severus with acerbic scorn, but he was poorly hiding a smile.

    With a few heaves - and, well, truth be told, there was a little playacting on both Severus' part and the girls' - Severus stumbled into a standing position. Now, he made an effort to be more dignified, and he smoothed out the wrinkles in his flowing nightgown and pulled a silk dressing gown around him. It was barely successful at tying around his protruding belly.

    "I'll be back presently," he said, and, slipping his feet into his velvet house slippers, he toddled off to get the items in question.

    As soon as the door closed, Erika practically bounded into Hermione's arms.

    "Tell me," she said, as she pulled one of the furry throw blankets off the couch and wrapped them around the two of them as they sat on the floor rug, "how ever did you get him so comfortable with his nakedness? It used to be such a struggle just to get him naked - he'd use every conceivable excuse to cover himself up, and hide his body. But ever since I've arrived, I've done sex with him twice, and he didn't hide at all either time."

    Hermione felt herself relax into the warmth of the blanket - and the warm coconut smell of Erika's soft arms.

    "I don't know," she said softly, "he just never did that with me."

    "So," Erika said with a smile, "real talk. May I ask how you two started going out? He only ever answers those kinds of questions with half-answers and evasion, and I'm really quite curious to hear your perspective."

    "Oh?" Hermione asked, and was immediately puzzled. Erika had always seemed such an important part of her adult relationship with Severus that it hadn't occurred to her that Erika might be a little more clueless about it than her. "I mean, you were there from the beginning, basically. Severus and I only started being really interested in each other once he apologized at your recommendation for the thing he did back in August."

    Erika frowned, clearly also puzzled. "What thing? What recommendation?"

    Hermione was deeply surprised that Erika couldn't remember. Did she have some form of amnesia?

    But then something clicked into place. "Oh," she said, with a sense of realization. "Oh, that manipulative Slytherin arse."

    "What?' Erika asked, and her eyes betrayed no recognition.

    "Okay, here's what must have happened," Hermione said, chuckling aloud. "Severus did something back in August that was a violation of professional conduct and trust. It is also something he knew better than to do, and he did it anyway. Whether or not it was voluntary, or not, I don't know. But either way, it resulted in me attempting to file a sexual harassment claim against him, and lucky for him, I got stonewalled by McGonagall, who was trying to ensure that he got a second chance."

    Erika looked horrified at all this, and her eyes were wide.

    "Well, then the thing is," Hermione said, "he came crawling back to me with apologies, telling me that you'd gotten him to see that what he'd done was egregious and wrong. And he begged for forgiveness in a very convincing fashion. And I gave it to him. And this conversation was what led him to confess that he had a girlfriend, and then he proceeded to flirt shamelessly with me, until he confessed that your arrangement is a non-monogamous one, and that he'd be interested in dating me."

    Hermione took a deep breath. "I see now that there must have been something else that made him apologize, since you don't know anything about this."

    Erika nodded, seeming a bit spooked at the whole thing.

    "What that precisely was," Hermione said, "I don't know. But I suspect that Severus played me. Now the question is - what does all this mean?"

    Erika carefully unwound herself from Hermione and stood up. "I'm really not okay with all this," she said, "and we all need to talk about it. Now."
     
  14. Mar 13, 2016 #74

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

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    Chapter 55: always

    Chapter Text

    Severus was startled to see the two women with clothes back on and the lights all brightly shining in the living room of Hermione's flat.

    "What's the matter?" he asked, putting down a silken red bag that made a suspicious clunk noise on the table.

    "We need to clear up a small matter," Erika said. She'd pulled her kinky hair into a tight bun, held with one of Hermione's spare clips, and she looked very serious and professional as she sat on the sofa next to Hermione, even though she was in her pyjama pants. While Erika radiated strength, Hermione felt like she herself was bleeding a little bit on the inside, and she felt herself melting just a little bit as Severus' look of genuine confusion writ across his face.

    He settled down in one of the armchairs opposite the sofa, since clearly he wasn't welcome there, he stared very seriously back at Erika in response. However, the fatigue showed in his face. He was weary, which probably meant he'd cut to the chase and continue to play games, which Hermione was grateful for.

    Erika's voice was flat and somewhat aggressive as she said, "Why did you tell Hermione that you'd consulted me in regards to the violation you committed against her back in the beginning of the school year?"

    It was clear that Severus had nearly forgotten about the incident - as had Hermione, really - and his face was deeply crestfallen in response.

    "I shouldn't have done that," he said with a sense of regret, "And I apologize, Erika."

    "Thanks for your apology," said Erika stiffly. "Now, the question is why - and what does it mean?"

    Severus eased himself back in his chair, and rested his hands on top of his distended tum. He stroked it a bit, fondly, as he contemplated the two women. Hermione didn't feel inclined to give him an inch, and she stared him down until he gave up. He demonstrated this by tipping his head upward and staring mutely at the ceiling for a few more minutes. Hermione admired the way his neck fat uncreased and stretched, the little ribbons of color gently demarcating the places where his skin folded and rolled. He was breathing deeply, too, and the way his too-full belly moved as he did so was hypnotizing.

    But not hypnotizing enough. Neither woman was willing to fall prey to his usual teacher tactic of waiting for the other person to speak first, and thereby lose. Finally he said, and there was a sense of ruefulness to it, "I did it because: I didn't think you'd believe me if I told you, Hermione, that I had reviewed my own actions and found them wanting."

    Hermione huffed.

    He lowered his chin, and his face was devoid of color and emotion. "Exactly. Just like now, you don't believe me."

    Neither Erika nor Hermione was willing to say anything to dignify that with an answer at first. Erika looked like she was evaluating a used car - skeptical, and as if she were disinclined to buy it. For Hermione, the jury was still out. If he was able to cobble together something sufficiently convincing, she might be able to chalk this up to early stage dating games and give it a pass. She felt fairly sure that Severus hadn't made a habit of lying thus far in their relationship.

    Too often he simply said he'd prefer not to talk about certain things, and she'd always respected that.

    Then again, maybe he had, and she just hadn't noticed. He was a master spy, after all.

    Severus looked a trifle older than she usually thought of him, now that she was looking at him in the brighter light. She noticed a stray gray hair or two that she hadn't observed before, but that wasn't all. There was an overwhelming sense of weariness in his spirit, and he looked between the two women. It seemed as if he were calculating something, for the briefest of moments, but then his eyes closed off with the overwhelming silence of occulmency. She recognized it because she'd been practicing it with him, and had gotten to know how his eyes looked when he closed off all his important emotions (the same way he'd done when at the hand of Voldemort).

    Shit. If he was occulmencing, that was definitely not good.

    "Hey," Hermione said, and stood up, and walked over to him. "Hey."

    She extended her hand to meet his. He listlessly gave her his hand, but there was no warmth in his gesture. It was like he were offering a corpse's hand.

    "Hey," she said, and she snapped her fingers in front of his eyes. "Come on. Don't panic. I'm not going anywhere."

    The snap got him out of the glazed look, and all of a sudden he was back again, and his dark black eyes began to fill.

    "How many times do I have to do this?" he asked softly, ducking his head down sharply and hiding his face behind his hair.

    At first she thought the question was directed to her. She glanced back at Erika in confusion, but then Severus went on, as the question went unanswered, "How many times do I have to prove that I'm a better person than I once was?"

    "What are you talking about?" Erika asked, and she stood up and joined Hermione and Severus. She wasn't quite as warm and responsive as Hermione was to Severus' mood, and indeed she looked a bit like a fish out of water. Or, rather, a fish that had long ago learned how to live above water, but hadn't been above water for quite a while lately, and was emerging again for the first time. Had the world above the ocean changed? In what ways? And how should she adapt?

    Hermione, however, was well practiced at comforting Severus, and she knew by now what he was talking about.

    "Come on," she soothed, putting a hand on his shoulder and rubbing it slowly, consistently. "This isn't at all like that."

    "Isn't it?" he asked, not moving. "A boy does something incredibly stupid and bad, out of panic, towards a girl he fancies, and then when he tries to apologize and tell her he was wrong, she writes him off?"

    "Did you really fancy me, at that point?" Hermione asked, inappropriately curious.

    "Yesssss," he hissed, and he turned his head up to look into her eyes. "Since that first moment I caught you watching me, when I was stuffing my godawful fat face in the Great Hall."

    "So why did you lie in this particular way, though?" Hermione asked, not breaking eye contact. She felt a blush creep up over her cheeks as she remembered that first pivotal moment where Severus was choosing pastries. *He'd put on so many luscious pounds since then,* she thought, *and many of them because of me.* "You went through great lengths to tell me how you changed your mind about the incident. Why bother?"

    "Again," he said firmly, his face drooping towards the floor again, "because I have a history of pretty girls not accepting my plain apologies."

    "I don't understand," Erika said, shaking her head. "Is this about Lily?"

    "Yes," Hermione said, and Severus said at the same time. Severus remained quiet, and Hermione added, "It's pretty much always about Lily."

    Severus seemed to refuse to speak any more after this, and Hermione added, "She's the knot that ties everything in his brain together."

    Erika sighed. "I guess I knew that, but it's been a while since I was really elbow-deep in Severus' brain about it. I kinda thought it'd gone away."

    "Always," Severus said, his voice low and almost growling.

    "Well, shit," Erika said, and she put her head in her hands. "Forgive me, my dear, but that's fucking nuts. And I say that in the kindest of ways."

    All he could do in response was shrug.

    "Well, I think we've done enough of this for one night," Erika said, shaking her head. "I vote we go back to bed, and sort it out later."

    "We?" asked Severus, and Hermione's heart broke as she read into the single syllable the connotation - he'd been expecting to be abandoned tonight.

    "Yes, you silly goose," Erika said, turning and scooping him up in her arms as well as she could. "It's clear that whatever reason you had to do this shitty thing, it's pretty intense, and I know I'm too tired to deal with this affair tonight. I suspect you all are as well."

    Severus didn't respond to her efforts, however - instead he raised his head and stared at Hermione. His eyes were glassy and his breathing was tense. He swiped at his hair with his free hand, pushing some of the front strands behind his ear. "Hermione?"

    "Of course," said Hermione, holding him close to her, wrapping her arms around him.

    He proceeded to bury himself in her shoulder and cry - huge, breathless sobs. Soon she was pressing him close to her as his tears wet her shoulder, and she rubbed his back and cradled him as best she could from her angle sitting on the arm of the chair. "Shh, shh," she whispered, stroking her hand through his hair. "I think this has been too much, tonight, overall."

    "Yeah," Erika said, and yawned. She planted a kiss on Severus' head, and stood. "I'm gonna leave you to it, if that's all right," she said, her voice growing soft. "I... I hope I didn't cause this."

    "No, no, hush," Hermione responded, and waved at Erika to return to the bedroom.

    Erika proceeded, and in a second, the door was closed, leaving Severus and Hermione alone.

    Severus had a lot of tears in him, but soon they died away, and he was hugging Hermione tightly.

    "Are you feeling better?" Hermione asked, continuing to stroke his hair.

    He didn't answer the question directly, but instead said, without moving from her grasp, "I refuse to lose you. I thought if I said someone else told me to apologize and get my head screwed on straight, you'd believe it better than if I apologized straight off. I've spent so many countless hours thinking of what I could have said to make Lily love me again - and that's the one I settled on as being most likely to work. I thought I'd try it on you, since the opportunity came up."

    "So," Hermione said, feeling warm and somewhat humorous despite this draining confession, "you weren't just trying to use any means necessary to get in my pants?"

    "Well, the answer to that is yes, somewhat," Severus said. "But only somewhat."

    "I'll take it," Hermione answered, and she kissed him on the cheek.

    "I... feel so foolish, now," Severus said, pulling away from her, but still holding her hand tightly. "I shouldn't have fallen apart like I did."

    "No, don't say that," Hermione said, "it's all right. It's a function of your disease. It's just the way it is."

    He sniffed, and rubbed his eyes on the back of his sleeve. "Thank you for understanding," he said softly, and he embraced her with a hug that made her giddy with tightness.

    "I... I love you," he said, and kissed her on the cheek. "And believe me when I say, I'll do anything to ensure that you're satisfied with me."

    "Well," Hermione said, "just... don't lie, all right?"

    "I never have," he said, his eyes gazing into hers solemnly. "I spent too many years lying to too many people; it lost its lustre after that. Since we began exploring each other as adults, I have done that only once."

    "Then let that be the last," Hermione said, and pressed her lips to his, trying to communicate forgiveness with every ounce of her kiss.

    Severus' lips were a bit stiff as she kissed them, but then she realized the reason for this: otherwise, they trembled.
     
  15. Mar 13, 2016 #75

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

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    Chapter 56: losing a mother

    Chapter Text

    The next day, Hermione went back to St. Mungo's after work. She was exhausted and fatigued, but that was what the time turner was for - catching up after a day away from her students.

    She sat there with her father. Erika and Severus had, at her suggestion, remained at Hogwarts. Neither of them could do much of anything, Hermione felt - and she did want some time alone with her father.

    It was nice to sit there with him, holding his hand, as they waited to be admitted into the Ward for Unfortunate Muggles. He didn't seem well, and she wanted to make sure she was there for him as much as she could be.

    As they sat there, watching the healers and medi-elves that attended the hospital flow by, Oliver said, softly, "I don't know if I can make that kind of medical decision for her. We've talked at great length about our wishes - and have signed comprehensive advance directives - but of course that stuff never took into account this sort of magical problem."

    "I wish I knew how to help," Hermione said sadly, and she stared at a painting of a potted fern. It was charmed to wave in the breeze, and it was endlessly relaxing.

    Oliver shook his head. "In the regular hospital, when your mother had her heart surgery, there was a social worker around to help smooth out these sorts of things. I asked them if they had that kind of person here, and they just looked at me funny."

    "I don't think things like that are covered in Muggle studies, unfortunately," Hermione said, though it did plant the germ of an idea in her brain. "But you're right, dad, there should be someone like that for St. Mungo's. I'm surprised there isn't one, already, some sort of person to be a liaison for those Muggles who were so Unfortunate as to end up here."

    "That's a capital idea," her father said, and sighed. "I just don't know what your mother would prefer, if she were in her right mind. When she's all right, she'd prefer to cut off an arm or a leg rather than lose you, and everything you have meant for her. Having to choose on her behalf whether or not to surgically seal all her memories of you, forever... or to lose herself in an illness that would take over her life within a few years... that's such a burden. Too much of a burden to rest on my shoulders, even."

    "I know," Hermione said, and a knot was tied up in her throat. "But... to some extent," she said, her voice growing softer, "this is my fault. Losing my mother would be a just punishment for my hubris."

    "Look," Oliver said, and he wrapped his arm around Hermione. "From everything you told me, it wasn't hubris. You did some quick thinking on the spot and didn't think through the ramifications. That's absolutely normal for your age. In fact, it's to be expected. So why your former headmaster thought it was a good idea to put the burden of saving the wizarding world on the shoulders of three teenagers - that's absolutely mind boggling. From everything you've told me, I don't blame you. I blame him."

    "Perhaps," Hermione said, and she sighed. "But even if I was used as a pawn - which I *wasn't,* by the way - I still made the choice to proceed without caution and getting help as appropriate."

    "Because that's what he conditioned you to do!" Oliver said, and Hermione felt a sudden rush of strength below his doddering persona. He turned to face her, and she was struck by the fierceness in his eyes. "He conditioned you with positive reinforcement to solve puzzles on your own, and even when he gave you very little data to work with, you passed with flying colors - you are your mother's daughter, after all."

    Ah, yes. It's never completely truthful to say that a child bears the marks of each parent in their personality - but if Rachel Wilkins was the source of Hermione's intelligence, Oliver Granger was the source of her conviction and bravery. And it shone through here, as he argued in Hermione's defense.

    "Perhaps," Hermione said, still struggling to acknowledge that her mother's illness was not completely due to her foolishness, and at least partially could be sourced back to another irresponsible adult. "Or perhaps not."

    "Ms. Wilkins will see you now," said a medielf who presented themself to the pair, and with a brief strengthening hug, Oliver and Hermione went in to see how Rachel was doing.

    ...........................

    "We did it," Hermione said as she collapsed into the sofa. Severus was on the computer (and Erika was in the shower) but he pushed the laptop away as Hermione made room for him next to her. He moved himself over and wrapped his pudgy thick arms around her, and she relaxed into his embrace. She felt the tiniest of kisses at the nape of her neck. "We wiped her memory. My mother no longer remembers who I am."

    "I'm glad you're home," Severus said, cradling her closer to him. "Try not to think about it, if you can."

    "I left her some flowers," Hermione said, and she began to sniffle. "From the hospital gift shop. I couldn't watch as they did it. My dad will be back when they finish. I'm under strict orders not to see her for a full year, to ensure that the memory remains cemented, and then I can reenter her life in an orchestrated fashion. Like pretend to be a neighbor or something."

    "That's so difficult," Severus said, and his hand wound its way into her bushy hair. It rested there for several minutes, rubbing her scalp and gently stroking her curls. Then, his voice rumbled lowly in the quiet of the room, "How can I help you, my love?"

    "Just tell me that you love me," Hermione said, and she began to cry a little bit. "Just tell me that over and over again, and tell me that I'm not the worst person in the universe."

    "You certainly are not the worst person in the universe," Severus said sadly, "why would you say that?"

    "For letting my mother get to a stage of illness where it's either she has to forget me, or die." She felt like she was being just a little melodramatic but it didn't matter anyway. He had no right to complain! "I'm so profoundly stupid. Why do even like me? You like smart girls, not stupid girls-"

    Hermione found herself crying harder at that, and Severus just rubbed her more gently, and hugged her close. "-Hush, hush," he whispered tenderly, and as she sobbed, he began to whisper in her ear, "One poor choice does not a stupid woman make. You're the brightest witch I know, and I love you. I love you. *I. Love. You.*"

    It heartened her to hear him say it. He seemed so begrudging with his affection sometimes that she often wondered if she'd imagined it, and this was all some sort of complex mindfuck. But tonight, she was more peaceful on this matter.

    Perhaps, tonight, she needed to hear it so much from him because she didn't feel like she could love herself, at this point.

    ....................

    That night, they all had dinner together. Oliver looked somber, but attempted to tell punny jokes he seemed to have been saving up for all these years, and anecdotes about the hospital. He couldn't get over how many things healers could do with their wands - things that Muggles needed enormous machines to do, or could not even yet do.

    Severus grimaced at most of the jokes and appeared irritated at most of the stories, but a few times he coughed into his napkin in a way that suggested he was trying to hide a chortle.

    Erika was the most loquacious at the table, and indulged Oliver well - she seemed to have some skill at social matters that both Hermione and Severus lacked, and it was a pleasure to watch her. She was almost artistic in the way she danced around the conversation, trying to integrate folks and bring in other ideas, even when both Severus and Hermione were a bit recalcitrant.

    And oh, Hermione. She found herself smiling sadly at most of her father's attempts to lighten the mood, and only felt awkward when Erika tried to do the same. She held Severus' hand frequently, seeking reassurance and support. He would sometimes kiss it airily, until Erika told them to cut it out, lest she be sick all over the table.

    In the end, Hermione and Severus returned to Hermione's room, while Erika and Oliver sat up late. Hermione wasn't sure if Erika came back or not - she fell asleep to hearing the low voices of Erika and Oliver out in the sitting room, and Severus' slow, heavy breathing over her shoulder.
     
  16. Mar 13, 2016 #76

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

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    Chapter 57: grading frustrations

    Chapter Text

    Despite the traumas of the past few days, Hermione's life began to trickle back into its normal ways again, finally, like water through a leaky faucet.

    Severus seemed to be putting an earnest effort behind his attentions, as if to apologize for something much more serious than the matter at hand. It was both heartbreaking and affirming. Hermione felt confident that her relationship with him was stronger than before, though she also took note of how deeply Severus seemed to take this relatively minor relationship matter.

    Erika was also attuned to this, and talked about how practically anything (from an outright scolding to wearing on the wrong color shirt) was liable to put him in a space of 'she's mad at me and going to break it off with me because I fucked up,' when they first started dating. She seemed keenly interested to talk more to Hermione as the rest of her visit went on, to compare notes.

    Severus always seemed uneasy whenever the two of them spent time together alone, as if he expected each time he left the room he'd come back and discover both of them upset at him again. But as time went on, they showed him it didn't happen again, and by the end of Erika's visit, he didn't seem as nervous about it.

    While Erika's steamy sexiness was constantly on, Hermione found herself getting bogged down by the sheer amount of pre-holiday work that she had to do to prepare for her classes. She was very envious of Severus with his luxurious hours (he and Erika got to spend a great deal of time together while his potions bubbled), and found herself resenting it. In the end, she gave them a bit of a wide berth while she lamented over students' homework instead of whimsical sexy times. It was a bit lonely, but she felt like it was her own fault, so she shouldn't complain. But that didn't stop her from feeling shitty about it.

    In fact, she felt kind of shitty about the whole thing, the more she stayed away from them. Hermione, while she didn't feel like Erika harbored any particularly special feelings towards her, was a bit smitten with the other woman. Erika had proven herself capable, charming, and practically perfect in every way - and she also had very few weaknesses to speak of. She loved Jean-Raoul, she loved Marielle, she loved Severus, and she had a variety of other lovers besides who flirted in and out of her life. And Hermione didn't seem to be one of them. This pissed Hermione off, though she felt like she had no right to feel pissed off. Because that wouldn't be right, would it? Resenting her partner spending time with a pre-existing partner because that pre-existing partner didn't seem to reciprocate the same level of interest in her?

    No, Hermione knew that wasn't good or effective polyamory. That didn't mean she was able to control her feelings. All it did was make her feel more and more ashamed of her feelings.

    It was a day or so before Erika was leaving for the States again, and Hermione was up to her ears in papers. Most of them were done being graded, but she couldn't be arsed to drag them back to the classroom. Time after time she'd put it off, just giving them back - and it was frustrating to come home to her own space and find them sitting there, ogling her. Particularly when she still had a few more to go through.

    Oh, grading. Such a joy, and with so little reward. Hermione contemplated her candlestick, burning nearly to the stem, and she played with the idea of knocking down the candle and claiming an accident happened to all her little first-years' papers, and give them all O's to keep their mouths shut.

    "I know that look. You're becoming a bitter and jaded teacher yourself," came a voice from her elbow, and she nearly did knock over that candle as she spun around to see Severus.

    He was smirking. "I will never regret my choice to lay off traditional teaching forever."

    "And you're making me regret my choice to not use wards on my door," Hermione responded with an eyeroll, and she relaxed herself into the arms that wrapped around her shoulders snugly. "How are you, my dear?"

    Any lingering resentment she'd had about his use of his free time squirreled itself away, for the moment. Just being touched by another human being felt good, and the softness of the belly that pressed against her neck and head was too alluring.

    "I'm faring all right," Severus said, and added, "I haven't seen much of you the past few days."

    Hermione gestured to the papers around her. "My time had other victims to torture."

    "And my time has been worried sick that you've been giving us the silent treatment," Severus said, stroking her head and pressing it against him. She relaxed into it and breathed deeply of his warm tum, which was clothed in a soft stretchy silk fabric that left very little to the imagination.

    "Don't worry," Hermione said, rubbing her chin along the softness of his belly. "I've just been busy."

    "I see that," Severus said, and he squeezed her just a little bit tighter. "Will you come and have dinner with us? Cancel your date with the papers for the evening?"

    "I want to," Hermione said, "but I don't think I can."

    Severus stood back a bit and looked down at her, quirking an eyebrow. His hands rested on her shoulders, and he pressed his fingers into her flesh. "That wasn't a request," he said after a moment of searching her face. "Either eat with us, or be eaten."

    Hermione felt a rush of giddiness course through her body at the suggestion. "What, you'd eat me?"

    "Yes, my fat hog," he said with a smirk, and planted a kiss on the tip of her nose. "I'd stuff you silly and roast you alive, with a beautiful red apple in your mouth."

    Hermione nearly fainted with the surge of desire that rushed through her body. "With what would you stuff me?" she asked, and twisted herself until she was propped on her knees on the couch, looking up into his face, both her hands running up and down on either side of the buttons that closely lined his tum.

    He responded only by planting a juicy, slow kiss on her lips. "Come to dinner and you shall see," he said with a smile, and with that he broke away from her and strode to the door.

    "I'll see you soon," he said, and quietly slipped out into the darkness of the hallway.

    Hermione couldn't be arsed to focus on her papers after that titillating experience, so she packed up her finished papers in ribbons and set them near her bag, ready to be taken out to her classes the following day.
     
  17. Mar 13, 2016 #77

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

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    Chapter 58: ethiopian

    Notes:

    (See the end of the chapter for notes.)

    Chapter Text

    Severus and Erika were sitting in Severus' living room on the floor. There was a large reed mat on the floor, upon which they were sitting and making out. Severus' legs were astride Erika's luxurious butt, which was doing its best to grind against his flabby crotch despite the impediment of his enormous tum. Severus' eyes were closed, his neck arched to ensure his lips made solid contact on Erika's, and he was pressing his fingers around Erika's breasts, clearly enraptured. However, upon Hermione's entry, Erika disentangled herself from Severus and smiled at Hermione - her bright red lipstick complimented her slinky scarlet dress well.

    Hermione was embraced by the smells of something spicy and delicious, and a little bit sour. It was distinctly different from houseelf fare, but no less appealing. That, combined with the unique noises coming from Severus' phonograph, made her enter a completely different headspace than she'd been in before. The music was strong, like coffee, and featured a single male singer, offset by fluid accordions and flavorful brass.

    She sat down on the mat next to Severus and Erika, and Erika clasped Severus closely, but extended her arm in welcome to Hermione. "Come here," suggested Erika kindly, gesturing with her pudgy fingers. Her dark hair was done up in a careful, tight braid, and covered in part by a patterned scarf. Hermione squeezed herself in - a feat made slightly easier by the fact that she'd lost a little bit of her new-found weight in the stress of the past several days. Last she'd checked her weight charm, she only had about 215 pounds on her frame, which was a bit depressing to see but not surprising.

    Severus had made an absolute pig of himself during Erika's stay, however, and all of his clothes seemed just a touch tighter around the gut. Not that Hermione was complaining.

    "Erika made us dinner," Severus said, pressing a kiss into Hermione's thick squishy cheek. "Very torturous to have to sit here and wait for it."

    "It smells wonderful, true," Hermione agreed, returning Severus' kiss. Erika proceeded to squeeze Hermione and Severus tightly together.

    "I was waiting for so long for this visit," Erika observed, "and it's so close to being over. And I haven't spent nearly as much time with you, Hermione, as I wish I had."

    "You leave day after tomorrow though," Hermione observed, "that's still a bit of time yet."

    "If you make yourself available, my dear," Erika reminded, and she flashed a brilliant smile in return.

    Hermione acknowledged there was some truth to this, and they were interrupted by Severus' enormous stomach growling with hunger. "You *just* ate!" Erika said with awe, and Severus shrugged. Patting his belly fondly, with a wobbly effort Erika stood up and pressed a kiss on top of Severus' head. "If you two adorable fatties are ready to eat," teased Erika, "I suppose I could go ahead and bring out dinner."

    "Who are you calling fatties?" scowled Severus, but the blush on his face spoke for him.

    Hermione took the moment to squeeze herself between Severus' legs, where Erika had been sitting. She felt the way his thighs jiggled with fat as she pressed her own delicious home-grown arse against them, and she also felt how hard Severus' cock was getting as she did so.

    "I might as well start looking into recipes for fat pigs," Severus whispered in her ear, nipping at it. "You're such a glutton for pleasing me. Look at you, sitting with your soft flesh pressing against mine, arousing me beyond measure. I know you'd enjoy being stuffed and eaten."

    Now, granted, Hermione had no interest in actually being eaten. She was fairly certain Severus was also disinclined to do this activity. But they hadn't specifically talked about this before, and the threat of potentially being a project to be fattened and eaten was incredibly arousing to her.

    "Oh, please," she murmured, "don't... don't eat me. I am not nearly fat enough yet to be more than a mere snack."

    Severus squinted and leaned back, ponderously evaluating her. She loved the way his body was so rock-solid and steady in the arms and legs, while so soft in every other way - the muscle he had was well hidden beneath the layers of delicious soft fat, making him so much more enjoyable to squeeze than the chronically well-toned Ron.

    "Fine," he agreed, after several moments of deliberation, "Perhaps this time will not be the time to slaughter you for my Christmas ham. After all, it looks like you lost a little bit of weight, and we certainly can't allow for that. We're going to have to put a special effort into fattening you up in time for Christmas."

    Hermione nearly fainted at the sound of this plan, as it was, if Severus hadn't been supporting her, both arms holding her close in a nearly inescapable grip, she'd have fallen over.

    Erika returned from the kitchenette with a large steaming plate of thin spongy tortilla-like objects and an even larger plate that looked like a palette of twenty different colors of paint - except all of the paints were different types of stew, collard greens, roasted meat, pureed beans, and a little bit of salad.

    "What's this?" Hermione asked, not waiting to hear an answer as she searched for a fork.

    "Ethiopian food," Erika said with a smile. "My grandmother's recipes. She'd probably be amused to see me serving this now I'm an adult - when I was a kid I hated this stuff. I wanted burgers and fries."

    "I've never had this," Hermione said, and watched as Severus and Erika grabbed bits of the tortilla-like substance and used it as a wrapping mechanism around bits of meat, lentils, and other tidbits from the colorful plate. After observing Severus smile broadly and with great satisfaction, and reach forward to continue stuffing his face, Hermione began to follow suit.

    The bread substance was strange to taste, somewhat like sourdough bread, but the consistency was strange. It felt a little wetter than she expected, and a little more pungent, but after a few bites she got more accustomed to the taste.

    Hermione began to experiment with all of the different flavors on the plate. It was such a unique experience to get to try and eat all of these different types of foods at once - as part of the same physical dish. Erika explained each of the things as they ate, and encouraged them to try and identify particular flavors, like cumin or coriander. She told them the pancakes were called injera.

    Hermione, while she appreciated these tidbits, could barely care aside from wanting more and more of the stuff in her mouth. There was so much to taste and get in her belly - and Severus was watching every bite she took closely.

    In fact, once or twice, Hermione would take a little bit of food, and then Severus would stare at her until she increased the size of her bite by about twice as much, and then he'd appear temporarily satisfied and continue watching her eat.

    Severus finally seemed to become satisfied, and he rubbed his belly absent-mindedly as he scrupulously paid close attention to Hermione as she ate. It was rather nerve-wracking to have him staring and watching her like that, as if she were a potion that he needed to watch for overboiling.

    That is, until he picked up a big bite of the pancake, scooped out almost a handful of lentils, and offered it to Hermione's waiting mouth. She accepted it gratefully, and laid down her own hands, which were caked with the sourdoughy startch of the injera.

    Within a few moments, Erika also joined in the feeding Hermione fest. She was a little bit more conservative than Severus in terms of how much he tried to stuff into Hermione's mouth, and honestly Hermione preferred that kind of feeding to the other. It was easier to get more food inside her, faster, by using this method.

    Bite after bite went into Hermione's bloating tum, and finally she pressed a hand to her face. "That's enough for the moment," she proclaimed, "unless, Severus, do you have something to help me out?"

    Severus nodded, and hoisted himself up into a standing position. He stepped a few ways to the left, and procured a potion from his kit. Then, he offered ti to Hermione. "Come on now, Hermione," Severus said, "take this potion and it will calm your stomach and ensure you will be able to fit the rest of the country, if you wanted it."

    Hermione laughed a little bit, and took the potion. It was one she'd used before, and as expected, it made her stomach feel calm and tranquil, for the most part.

    Notes:

    (more to come! sorry i was falling asleep writng this because tired so will write more tomorrow - double feature perhaps?)

    Music: Ney Ney Weleba, by Debo Band. (found on Spotify using Ethiopian Music 2013 Vol. 2). Also Woleyawa by Tagel Belay.
     
  18. Mar 13, 2016 #78

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

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    Chapter 59: second round of ethiopian

    Chapter Text

    The potion left her stomach feeling relaxed, and more comfortable. Also significantly more empty. She reached forward to grab some more food, but was interrupted by Severus' soft hands pressing down her shoulders.

    "Mmm," he said, mildly scolding her for getting up, and he sat again next to her. He wiped his hands on a napkin and then proceeded to pick up more food for Hermione to eat, whilst placing one hand on her belly. "Come," he commanded, his voice dark and low as he pressed his fingers - pinched around a bite of lentils and injara into her mouth. His fingers were covered in the savory spice, and Hermione sucked the slightly sticky injara off of his chubby fingers.

    Severus groaned in response, and Hermione's hand immediately went to check on his erection. It was getting hard.

    He met her gaze as she smiled at him innocently, and his eyes were serious and sharp. "Do not," he said softly, "move a muscle." He stared solemnly into her eyes for another moment as he regarded her with suspicion.

    The thrill of hearing him speak like this, to her, nearly made her come. She felt like a giddy schoolgirl again as he finally broke eye contact and reached forward to get her another handful of food.

    She watched greedily as he leaned towards the platter. His stomach flopped over the top of his too-tight trousers, and despite his best efforts, his fitted shirt kept coming up, revealing the squishy underhang of pale white belly that hid underneath all the black fabric. It was a beautiful sight to see, the way his fat settled so profoundly around him. He seemed to emanate softness, and every movement he made was highlighted in the ripples of his fat.

    Erika was sitting back and watching the activities with some interest, laying back on a pillow, one leg bowed in a candid pose. She looked like a movie star, especially with her winning smile.

    "You two are such experts with each other," she murmured as she watched them.

    Hermione, having been told not to move a muscle, didn't say anything in response, but she felt a little glint of pride in her eyes.

    Severus came back with two hand-fulls of food. "Open," he stated authoritatively, and Hermione duly opened her mouth and discovered the contents of the pancake landing in her mouth. The bite-sized morsels were soft, easy to swallow with little effort.

    Ah, yes, he was maximizing her capacity by packing her with the carbs first. "That's right," he coaxed her as she accepted another bite and swallowed hungrily. "Keep at it. You've come a long way - but you've still got such a long way to go."

    He wiped one hand on a napkin, and then rested it carefully on top of her expanding stomach. His fingers massaged gently at her roly-poly paunch, and eased some of the stiffness that came with the stuffing she'd already endured.

    She met his gaze, and there was a calculating, thoughtful look in his eyes. Then he smirked, and ducked his head so that his hair covered over his face, and he reached forward to acquire more food.

    Again, Hermione admired the way his belly pressed against the cloth of his shirt, begging for reprieve from his buttons. The shirt was riding up a little bit more, and absently Severus pulled at it, but without much success. The shirt was riding up, and seemed determined to show as much of Severus' soft flab as possible.

    This became even more clear as Hermione watched him. His reach was a bit short to get at the plate of fresh injara, and he was grunting as he reached. "What a fat pig you've gotten to be," Hermione whispered to herself as she watched him. "Can't even get to the next plate of food without effort."

    He stopped reaching for the food and, his face serious and suspicious, he turned to look at Hermione dead on, one eyebrow arched inquiringly. "What was that?" he replied lowly, with (faux) danger in his voice.

    "Here," Erika said, rolling and inserting herself between Severus and the food. "Let me."

    This was sufficient distraction for Severus, who cast another steady glare at Hermione before turning his attention to Erika's culinary efforts.

    Erika began to pack little dumplings made of injara, and Hermione watched happily as Erika tore bits of chicken into smaller pieces, and added a little pinch of some vegetables before wrapping it in the sour pancake.

    Hermione watched happily as Erika began to make a plate full of these little bite sized dumplings, and Severus planted a kind, pleased kiss on Erika's cheek. Then, as Erika continued working, he turned back to Hermione, and he was as serious as a tango dancer - and just as handsome in the way he whipped his hair around his chubby face.

    Hermione opened her mouth wide for the extra dumplings, and accepted them happily, greedily. They were simple to chew a few times for the flavor and then swallow once the next one was near her mouth. Severus' fingers were deft and adept at getting there at exactly the right moment. It was unsurprising for a potions master, in some ways.

    It was particularly lovely to watch how Severus seemed so fascinated to watch her. It was almost as if she were some kind of experiment - he seemed careful, constantly assessing as he filled her what the status of her overstuffed tum was. His fingers were permanently lodged on top of Hermione's growing tum.

    Once in a while, as she struggled down a particularly dry bite, he would offer her a sip of milk or sweet tea. And then once her thirst was sated, he'd get right back to stuffing her face.

    It was such a luxury to be fed. Hermione knew that this was an indulgence that previously might have shocked her as a child, but now in her adulthood she relished it. Life had too many rules. Some of them needed to be broken, for the sake of making life a little more worthwhile.

    And what a pleasure it was. She closed her eyes and simply let her mind be washed over with the sensations of the room that she could smell, hear, taste, and feel. Denying her the necessity of her eyesight, she let her tongue embrace the soft, spongy injara bread that entered her mouth and relax into the savory tastes that lay within it.

    The smells in the room were evocative and inviting, and made her want to curl up in a dumpling and eat her way out of it. She heard the little motions of Erika as she readjusted herself on the reed mat, and Severus as he leaned over to plant a kiss on Erika's cheek. She felt Severus' fingers dip underneath the lower of her gut and experimentally weigh it in his hand, cradling it like a precious flower. And she also felt Severus' finger twisting among her hair near her ear, gently teasing it until she felt his body lean closer to her, and she felt him plant a delicate kiss on the side of her cheek.

    And then she felt something more warm in front of her lips, and she opened her mouth and chewed the flavorful bite.

    Still, good things must end sometime, and Hermione finally began to get slower and slower as she tried to make room for more of the dumplings. She closed her eyes and tried to swallow as automatically as possible.

    She didn't open her eyes until she was sitting, open-mouthed, waiting for something to enter her mouth, and there was nothing there. Hermione genty opened her eyes, and saw that Severus was getting up to move. She glanced over at Erika, who was smiling and gathering up the empty plate.

    "Is it... all gone?" Hermione asked, her eyes opening wider than expected. "I ate it all?"

    "Yes," Severus said, standing, "and you'll also have to eat some dessert."

    Hermione hoped desperately that the dessert was either mousse or ice cream, because she couldn't handle anything with any solid component at the moment. She just nodded and rested her two hands on top of her rising belly.

    It was like looking at a bread loaf that had risen. Hermione touched the overstuffed tummy that she boasted, and it looked as if it stored enough bounty to make her a prime target in any pinata contest. She rubbed her aching belly and closed her eyes again, feeling the warmth of her tum as it overstretched and begged for mercy.

    "Here," Severus said, and Hermione felt a cool lip of a cup at her mouth. She opened obediently and swallowed a thick creamy milk that reminded her of somewhat melted ice cream.

    "Mmm," she responded to the goodness that had flooded her mouth, and swallowed as best she could. "But now, I really can't have any more," she said, as Severus kept the lip of the glass near her face.

    She opened her eyes as he withdrew the glass, and he seemed to be assessing whether or not she could indeed manage another sip. Then, deciding against it, he sighed and downed the remainder of the sweet drink.

    "I'll need a midnight snack, I'll wager," he said primly, as if he'd just said that he expected the archbishop of Canterbury would be arriving at any minute, "but for the moment, let us retire to the bedroom?"

    "Yes, please," Hermione and Erika both said at once.





    "This story is both beautiful and depressing. In my culture which is filled with people who value what you look like first than what's in your heart, makes me envious of Hermione's life. She loves her body and she has two sets of eyes that finds her delicious and beautiful. This fics gives me hope that maybe one day... Thanks for updating." A flashback to chapter 43 review from Meldz - thanks for the thoughts :)
     
  19. Mar 13, 2016 #79

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

    hufflepuff hobbit

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    Chapter 60: menage a trois 2

    Chapter Text

    They all removed themselves to the bedroom, Severus taking a moment to piss, and Erika guiding the drunk-on-food Hermione by the arm. Hermione was pleased as punch to have Erika's assistance navigating the way - she was nearly dizzy with the amount of food she'd consumed, and moving alone was inadviseable.

    She landed with care on the bed, laying down on pillows that Erika propped up underneath her head, and then she felt two soft, petite hands move up her belly. She was wearing a cotton jersey dress that was stretchy and soft, and Erika's fingers seemed to enjoy the way Hermione's taut skin responded to the feel of the cloth as it slipped over her.

    Hermione enjoyed it, that was for sure.

    She watched as Erika moved, sitting cross-legged in front of Hermione, and Hermione's legs were folded and spread wide, as if she were delivering a baby. Erika had easy access to Hermione's vast tum, and she made good use of it - she rubbed at Hermione's belly with gentle, soft motions, pressing deeply into the tissue where the fat seemed to give way, and Hermione relaxed into the pleasing sensations.

    Severus, for his part, returned from the restroom, and he had a satisfied smirk on his face as he approached the two women.

    "You're having fun," he said to neither of them in particular, and he lay down next to Hermione on the bed, but he joined Erika in rubbing Hermione's distended belly.

    Hermione felt like she must be having a baby or something - either that, or she must be a goddess. Being fawned over by two folks was enormously erotic and exciting to her, and she loved the feeling of so much physical and emotional attention. She felt as if she must be in heaven.

    "I need something more to eat," she whimpered, since there were only two more things she needed now - to be fucked, and to eat. Preferably at the same time. "Someone bring me something?"

    "Of course," said Severus coolly, and he eased his own fat arse up from the bed and toddled back into the kitchen area, whereupon he brought back a bowl of vanilla ice cream with chocolate chips. "This ought to go down easy," he said with a paternal softness that made Hermione feel inexplicably cared for and beloved, and she obediently opened her mouth to allow the spoon entry as he offered it.

    "Is it all right if I also eat something?" asked Erika, and Hermione reflexively said, "Of course!"

    Whereupon Hermione suddenly felt her underwear being thrust down, and a hot breath in her crotch.



    Hermione felt herself nearly go numb with the ecstacy of having Erika's tongue hungrily licking her clit. As her body's lower extremities melted with nearly-instant orgasm, she felt a cold spoon at her lips, and she accepted it without questioning.

    "Mmm," she murmured, and then she nearly screamed as Erika's licking became more pronounced.

    "Fuck!" she exclaimed once she'd swallowed, and she felt her thighs extending wider, to ensure that Erika had unfettered access to her chambers.

    "Yeah," she heard Severus say, his voice low and sultry, "you like being fed in both ways at once, don't you. Your hunger for the flesh as well as the hunger of the stomach. Such a glutton for pleasure, you are. What ever made you such a little slut?"

    "I just am," Hermione whimpered, and Erika's teeth made a little bit of contact on her pubic fat, which made her intake with breath sharply. "Oh gods."

    "Yes," Severus said, and she felt his voice get close to her. She opened her eyes and saw that he was staring into her eyes, his nose nearly touching hers, and at seeing the flutter of her eyelashes, he pressed his lips fervently into hers. She tasted the sweetness of chocolate and vanilla on his tongue, guaranteeing that he'd been sampling his own wares, and she moaned into his mouth as she searched for remnants of hidden chocolate.

    "Yes," he murmured again, his voice dark and lustful, and he dropped the spoon into the bowl again and got himself into a crouching position on the bed. He then transitioned himself from this position to one where he was standing over Hermione, astride her vast softness.

    Erika, for her part, had progressed to fingering Hermione, and was stuffing her fingers inside Hermione's vagina, stroking experimentally. It was preparation for more fireworks, Hermione diagnosed, but she was soon distracted by the view she had of Severus' broad, heavy gut. It hung over his belt so beautifully, and he hadn't bothered to tuck his shirt in after he'd used the bathroom, which meant she got a full and unadulterated view of his pale, stretch-marked tum.

    "Get out of those pants," rasped Hermione, the lust making her voice constrict. "I want to see you better."

    "With pleasure," Severus purred, and with a few practiced movements, he undid his too-tight belt and trousers, and they came crashing down after a poor effort at staying up on their own, as if they'd given up a long time ago. This left him in his soft black underpants, and these came off with a bit more of a struggle, but soon they had also come off and were tossed mercilessly on the floor.

    Then, Severus made some wandless magic motions, and created a sort of chair for himself out of thin air. He sat himself upon it, a mere inch above the top of Hermione's fat belly, and then he adjusted it so that instead his dick was at a prime position to reach Hermione's mouth.

    "You're so hungry," he said, as sweetly as a devil on her shoulder, "could I tempt you with just a little bit more dessert?"

    "Oh," Hermione said, and nodded her head vigorously in consent.

    "Are you going to fall off that thing?" Erika asked, withdrawing for the moment as Hermione was distracted. "I can't even see it for your fat ass, Snape."

    He turned back to stare at his other girlfriend, and Hermione was sure he was giving her a fierce and unabridged glare. But he wouldn't be permanently distracted from Hermione so he turned back again and raised his member with one hand, and massaged his balls with the other.

    Hermione opened her mouth obligingly, and Severus, after a few lengthy minutes where he enjoyed his own touch, stuffed himself inside her mouth.

    Hermione wasn't afraid to open her mouth wide for his fat dick, and she sucked and tightened her mouth around his girth. There was something about her partner's genitals that she loved. The softness of it, the texture of it, the way the hood rubbed back and forth with such friction over his cock... oh, she loved to see how her mouth pleasured him. She pressed her lips into his cock as hard as she could, to create optimal suction.

    "Careful of teeth," he whispered once, but otherwise his head was turned up, his eyes were closed, his head arched back, his shoulders relaxed and broad, and his legs thick and strong as they helped him maneuver over him.

    She felt the telltale sign of his impending collapse as his muscles tightened, his breathing became more rapid, and she felt drops of sweat land on her sweet soft skin.

    "Coming," he whimpered, and she felt the rush of hotness in her mouth as his salty cum washed over her tongue. She contained it tidily, then as he withdrew she turned her head over the edge of the bed and spit it out into the metal wastebin.

    Weakly, Severus practically fell off his platform, but he rolled deftly onto the bed next to Hermione. "Oh gods, thank you," he whimpered, "Thank you."

    "My turn," Erika said commandingly, stirring a fluttering in Hermione's heart, and soon Erika was also astride the air chair that Severus had made. "This is strangely comfortable," she admitted as she swung back and forth above Hermione's round breasts. She lay back, and found herself well supported no matter her position. "What a clever spell."

    "This is its debut," Severus said with a hint of pride. Hermione turned her head to meet his gaze. He was propped up on some pillows and laying on his side, posing like a Renaissance painting, and he was smiling. Well, smiling as much as Severus could smile anyway. In one hand, he was stroking Hermione's soft right breast, cupping it and massaging it as he enjoyed the weight and movement of it. In the other, he was fondling his own balls, presumably trying to get himself ready for another go.

    "You wickedly clever man," Erika said, "Any way I could convince you to come back with me to America?"

    "Not a chance," he responded, and he draped an arm around Hermione in a protective, assertive fashion. "Not when I've got this hungry little slut to occupy my time."

    "Are you still hungry?" Erika asked Hermione, and Hermione nodded. "Then let's do this," Erika said, and asked, "Severus, could you summon some mouthwash?"

    "With pleasure," he responded with a low growl, and with that, he suited the action to the word. A decanter of mouthwash landed straight in Erika's hand, and she poured a little bit into Hermione's mouth.

    Hermione sloshed it around a bit - she instantly recognized this as preparation for changing partners for more oral - and spit into the wastebin again.

    The flutter in her heart hadn't gone away. This was the first time she was about to have the privilege of pleasuring another woman - with her tongue or any other means. She had to make it count.

    Hermione took a few deep breaths. Erika was smiling, and she parted her own pubic fat to reveal her tight little apparatus below the hood.

    It almost made Hermione feel faint again to see a cunt with such close proximity. And then she took the plunge, taking a hesitant sniff - it smelled sweet and salty, and a little bit like fish - and then taking a hesitant lick - it tasted musky, a little bit like warm beer but less yeasty.

    She knew the taste of a woman was something that was an acquired taste, but she could take her time getting acquired.

    "Sorry," she said, breathing in Erika's scent some more, "this is my first time doing this."

    "Oh honey," Erika said sweetly, and she caressed Hermione's curly hair. "Take your time. You don't have to if you don't want to."

    "I do though," Hermione said, determinedly, and she took some more deep breaths of Erika's scent. She found it growing on her, bit by bit, and she had another experimental lick at Erika's clit.

    Erika nearly roared in ecstacy. "God," she whimpered, "please," she murmured, "please do more."

    "I will," Hermione whispered with a hiss, and like a snake, her tongue darted in and out of her mouth, licking Erika in a wide sweep of effort.

    "Oh," exclaimed Erika, and her back arched and she bared her throat. "Please, more. More!"

    Hermione proceeded to practice her first time eating out Erika. Erika was increasingly delicious, though it was still a bit strange to taste. Hermione found that cocks didn't have much of a taste, if they were clean and recently washed, but vagina was different in that it had a flavor to it.

    It wasn't what she'd call her favorite taste in the world, but she could see the way that Erika writhed that it was pleasuring her greatly, whatever it was she was doing, so Hermione kept at it.

    "Oh gods," she heard Severus moan, and she felt him press his engorging cock against her thigh. She felt the way his hand was stimulating himself, and she herself began to feel like she needed a good fucking. All the oral aside, she needed someone to really pound into her.

    "You are so sexy to watch," Severus elaborated with gasps. His eyes were focused on Hermione's face, and Hermione just grinned at him in response, between her own efforts.

    After a final shudder, Erika twisted herself off the air stool and landed on the other side of Hermione.

    "That was brilliant," Hermione whispered, feeling as dazed and breezy as she imagined Luna Lovegood felt like most of the time.

    "And now, more to please you," Severus said, and lumbered up into a sitting position again. "If you like."

    "Are you going to do what I think you're going to do?" Erika asked with a gasp, and Hermione's eyes widened.

    "There's just one problem," Severus said, and he jerked at his cock a few more times before deciding, "I only have enough for one of you, for the moment. I'll need a few hours to prepare again. Now, which of you is ready?"

    "I volunteer Erika," Hermione said, "She's leaving soon."

    "I volunteer Hermione," Erika said, "I'm a bit spent myself, for the moment."

    Severus gave a calculating, lopsided grin. "Then Hermione it is. If you like," he added.

    Hermione glanced back at Erika, who gave Hermione a thumbs up. "Yes, please," she said, feeling luxuriously overindulged.

    With a flourish, he cleared away the invisible air chair and, with another motion, he swept her along the bed until she was neatly positioned at the end. She maintained all her pillows, but now she was accessible for his cock from a standing position.

    "Prepare yourself," he said, and without further ado he sank his cock into her cunt, and she relished the way it was warm and wriggled into position. His beginning strokes were long and masterful, and she closed her eyes as she relaxed into the familiar sensations and position. Then, with increasing power and energy, Severus began to fuck her harder. He readjusted her as he seemed to want another position. Soon he was leaning over her, using the bed as support for his trunklike, flabby arms, and fucking her even harder than she could remember before.

    Because he'd spent himself so thoroughly before, he needed a long time to bring himself to completion inside her, and she was satisfied with this. He waxed and waned with the rise and fall of his energy, and she felt his beads of sweat drip onto her as he worked his arse off. She felt herself awash with orgasms multiple times as he pleasured her, thrusting so firmly and enthusiastically into her, hitting her at the exact right spots.

    Soon, she felt the sense of him becoming faster, and his strokes became more rapid and strong. "Careful," Hermione said, as he began to pound her harder, harder, harder!

    "Ooh," Erika said, observing with pleasure, "damn, Hermione, you're one lucky girl. That man's working it like there's no tomorrow."

    "Shhh," Hermione whimpered, and groaned loudly as she came again. "You -- and me - will have our chance - ahhhhhh."

    She relaxed and triumphed with a final exhortation, and simultaneously Severus spent himself inside her.

    Soon enough, he was laying on top of Hermione, and Hermione was patting the soft heavy man who was squishing her so wonderfully.

    "All right," she sad after a few calm, tranquil moments, "you'd best be getting up now."

    "Oh, must I?" asked Severus, but compliantly he rolled off her onto the space that Erika made for him on the bed. Erika immediately cuddled him close and held him tight, and Hermione turned over and joined Erika in doing this. The two womens' hands met on top of Severus' belly, and they held hands there, loosely intertwining their fingers together.

    Severus, for his part, seemed exhausted, because he seemed unable to respond to anything they did or said other than a "Hmmm?"

    "All right," Hermione said after several moments of recovery. Severus was still taking deep, slow breaths with closed eyes, but Erika seemed eager and itching for a little bit more. "Where's that bag Severus brought?"

    "Here." Erika drew the bag from the nightstand and tossed it to Hermione. "You need help figuring it out?"

    "I'll try my best," Hermione responded, and removed the apparatus from its case.

    It was a nice, wide dildo not dissimilar to Severus' own cock, and it was settled in a strap-on that seemed like it wasn't completely undone since its last use. Hermione got up reluctantly from the bed and stuffed her legs inside it. It required a bit of tightening, but she found that it fit well enough once she had it on.

    "It requires some practice to get good at," Erika said, "but with practice comes perfect, you know, so know I won't be upset if it doesn't happen right away."

    "All right," Hermione said, and she fiddled with the plastic cock. "So Severus likes it in the arse, does he?" Hermione said, and flicked the jelloy silicone. It jiggled invitingly, though not too much - it was stiff, but had a little bit of heft and jigglyness to it.

    "Yeah," Erika said, "so you wanna clean it with your wand or whatever before using on me. Though Sev is so OCD I doubt it's necessary."

    Without further ado, Hermione scourgified the cock well, and then Erika spread her legs wide on the bed.

    "Are you two fucking?" asked Severus sleepily, and he turned over and faced them, his eyes barely able to say open. "May I watch?"

    "Of course," said both girls at once, and Erika and Hermione both made eye contact and laughed.

    "Of course," Hermione said with a bit of a smirk, and then she gently approached Erika. "Let's try this, shall we?"

    "Ay yi, captain," said Erika with good humor, and she propped her legs open with a beautiful spread.

    Hermione then proceeded to dive gently into Erika's cunt. Erika was quiet for a few moments, as Hermione began to find a pace for herself. She soon found an angle that made Erika's cervix squirm with a familiar motion of pleasure, and then with a few deep breaths, Hermione began to move faster and faster.

    "Ooh," Erika moaned as Hermione began to get up to speed, "you're doing so well, you're doing so well."

    Yes, Hermione really liked fucking Erika with a strap-on. The thrill of it made her feel like royalty.

    This day's sexual play certainly topped the list of her most pleasurable days in all history. And it made her deeply sad that this wasn't something she and Severus could have on a daily basis, whenever they liked. Alas, alas.

    Hermione worked her own arse off until Erika orgasmed herself into exhaustion.

    "I'm done," Erika begged, as Hermione relaxed after several vociferous thrusts. "What a good piece of work, 'Mione. Really splendid. A plus."

    "Thanks," Hermione said, remembering that this was the American muggle equivalent of an Outstanding, and began to take off the apparatus. "That was fun."

    "You're telling me," Severus murmured, and before either of the women could respond, he buried his face in Erika's arm.

    "I think we'd best take a rest for a while," Erika said, patting Severus on the head and kissing his forehead. "At least this one seems like he's ready for a serious nap."

    "I'll join you," Hermione said, and she crawled into bed next to Severus.

    Severus as so nice and broad and fat, and she curled up against him and kissed his soft shoulder.

    He groaned with satisfaction, and Hermione wrapped her arms around the lower area of his belly, where it was at its most flabby. Erika, for her part, let herself face the window, letting Severus spoon her.

    It was such a peaceful cuddle that Hermione soon drifted off, happy and content in a way she hadn't felt much of in the past several days.
     
  20. Mar 13, 2016 #80

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

    Fat Molly

    hufflepuff hobbit

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    Chapter 61: post erika talk

    Chapter Text

    Severus was quiet after Erika left. She seemed to fade away quietly, while Hermione was teaching her classes, and Severus was sober and sad their first night together again, alone.

    "How are you coping?" Hermione asked, relaxing into her comfiest chair with a pot of tea at her elbow. Severus sat down at the sofa and sighed. His body slumped, and he seemed to woolgather briefly until he shook his head briskly.

    "Ready for some goddamned piece and quiet," he said, and he lazily extended his arm in her direction. Hermione finished pouring them both tea, and passed him a cup. He accepted it gratefully and then reached for her free hand. She took it, and smiled at him.

    He seemed melancholy, but not in the tortured way that he usually did. Instead, right now, he was just a tad bit sad, with a kind of sweetness behind his half-smile as his eyes met hers.

    There was no shame in his eyes, nor desperation. There was some gentle longing, as if he were fondly recollecting a lovely life he'd had before. Then, with another effort, he shook his mane of hair again, let go of Hermione's hand, and took a sip of the hot, sweet tea. The tendrils of steam wafted up from it, and he sipped cautiously, slowly.

    Hermione glanced down at his posture. His roundness had not subdued during Erika's stay, and instead had been augmented, but not in the tight belly-stretching way that Hermione was accustomed to seeing with him. His figure was getting doughy and soft, and he was looking tremendously portly in the soft black fabric of his button-down shirt and cravat. His fat seemed to threaten the seams of said cravat, which was plastered across his stomach like paper mache.

    He watched her, watching him, as he sipped his tea. A satisfied smile began to emerge on his face, and he sighed again. She felt her own breath catch to watch him, as his stomach heaved with the effort of expunging air.

    Yes, she was pleased to see her lover looking nice and plump, and she was even more pleased to see how he didn't seem to be suffering as much as he sometimes did.

    Hermione, for her own part, glanced down at her own body. Her thighs were coming along nicely, and she was rarely comfortable putting her legs together in a ladylike fashion.

    One of the extraordinary things about getting fat was how she physically took up more space - she felt like she was increasingly clumsy, knocking things over with her unusually large arse, stumbling once in a while because of her heavying breasts.

    Also, she found herself sitting like a man, more frequently. It was a simple matter of physics - she couldn't keep herself contained. She had too much body to merely sit and fade into the background. With every pound she gained, she was getting more and more undeniable.

    She wasn't entirely sure what this meant. She felt like this was empowering, though. As if, simply by the act of taking up more space, she was attempting a radical act that threatened the patriarchy.

    Or maybe this was just fantasy. She wasn't sure.

    But what was also undeniable was the way her belly rolled beneath her breasts, the way her dress clung tightly to her sides, the way her chin and upper arms had so much more... substance to them.

    Yes, Hermione felt *very* good with the progress she'd made on her body, and as she sipped her tea, she admired her handiwork. She also ate a biscuit, her fifth since she'd started to make herself some tea. They were digestives, graham with chocolate coating. The chocolate melted on her chubby fingers and she licked at the corners of her palm, picking up the remainder.

    Still, these had done nothing to quell the rising tide of hunger in her belly - made more apparent by the sound of her stomach rumbling audibly.

    And Severus' smile grew all the more wicked at the sound. He looked as hungry as if he wanted to eat her all by himself.

    He sipped his tea again, however, pretending he hadn't noticed. "Thank you for indulging me by having her come," he said, taking visible pleasure in teasing her. In his eyes and in his growing grin, he carried a depth of lust, and he wasn't ready to acknowledge it yet, or embrace it. "You seemed to get on well."

    "Yes," Hermione agreed, "we did. And I hope we continue to do so."

    "Same," he responded, and he laid down the teacup thoughtfully. He arched his eyebrow at her, in a silent request, and Hermione glanced where he was looking at the sugar. Wordlessly, she passed him the bowl of sugar lumps, and he pressed his lips together in acquiesence. "Thank you," he said softly, taking the sugar tongs and applying the lumps to his tea.

    Hermione took that moment to stand up and stretch. "I could do grading," she said, the words sounding as dreary as the task ahead of her, "or, I could make us a bit of something."

    "I think I'd like a bit of something," he responded carefully, and his eyes were wide and inquiring, simultaneously curious and satisfied. "Then I think I'd like a bit of something else."

    "I think both can be arranged," Hermione said with a smile, and she wiped her hands on her luscious thighs, heading to the kitchen.

    ..........

    Sooner than later, she was elbow-deep in what she desperately hoped was going to be a pie crust. She was rather worried it wasn't exactly what she was hoping for. She'd taken some boxes of stale tea biscuits she'd been avoiding eating and smashed them up into a chunky meal. Then she mixed this with butter to make a graham paste, and had lined a large pie tin with this paste. So far, so good. The question was - was she going to be able to find something to put in the pie, to actually make it a pie?

    In the meantime, Severus was puttering about in the sitting room. Severus hadn't taken his phonograph back to his rooms yet - in fact if Hermione had to guess, the phonograph was going to live there in her own sitting room for the forseeable future - and he was fiddling with the vinyl discs trying to find something suitable to listen to. Eventually he sighed and put on a record at random. It was a record of cello and piano duets.

    With a sigh of resignation, he collapsed upon the sofa, leaned his head back against the edge, and closed his eyes to absorb the music. There was a darkness to the music that he'd chosen, with some harmonious resolution at times. But overall, the tone was melancholy and sweet.

    Hermione lit a candle, since it was starting to get dark already outside the window, and she kept on poking around the kitchen. Finally she found some apples and pears, just on the right side of too old for consumption, and without a thought she cut them up and put them in a pot to simmer with some lemon juice, cinnamon, honey, vanilla, brown sugar, and nutmeg.

    She proceeded to join Severus on the sofa, and wrapped her arms around him as she snuggled against his warm, soft body. The lush cello music was climbing and sinking with the style of 19th century dramaticism that seemed so appropriate to Severus. She closed her own eyes and felt him breathing slowly, almost in time to the music. His softness was so irresistible, and her fingers wandered underneath the lip of his shirt, which had somehow slipped up and become untucked around the underside of his belly.

    She let her fingers enjoy his soft squishiness there, and as they landed, he drew a sharp intake of breath.

    "Ohhh," he murmured lowly as Hermione's cool fingers began to pinch at his rolls of belly fat. In particular, Hermione loved to grab his nice juicy love-handle and heft it. "Ohh. Hermione, Hermione," he whispered, and it was as if he were repeating to himself a reminder of what name to call her. "Thank you," he whispered, as Hermione graduated from grabbing his fat with her full hands to simply stroking his hair. "Thank you," he murmured again, and took a deep shuddering breath.

    "What do you keep thanking me for?" Hermione asked, putting a peck on his cheek.

    The question remained unanswered for several minutes. Hermione wasn't even entirely sure if Severus had heard it, and she was thinking about whether or not she should ask it again when he finally did answer, "For being with me."

    "Aww," Hermione said, and pressed her cheek against his chest. His arm wrapped around her, and he cuddled her closely.

    "It means I'm not alone, now," he went on. Hermione raised her head and saw that Severus hadn't opened his eyes. He was still arching his neck back, relaxing his head on the back of the sofa. "I'm so happy I'm not alone."

    "You definitely aren't alone," Hermione said, and pressed her cheek deeper into Severus' soft chest, trying to hear his heartbeat.

    He chuckled with a bittersweet tone, and he squeezed her tighter against him, then released gently. "Do you realize," he said softly, "how many years I spent being alone?"

    "No," Hermione said. She could guess that the answer was "a lot," given what she knew of Severus' history, but it seemed like he wanted to talk about how he was feeling - which was a rare thing that she certainly intended to 'indulge' as much as she could!

    "All of my life," Severus said sadly, "less the years Lily was my best friend."

    He sighed. He still hadn't opened his eyes. The music around them was growing more quiet now, as if perfectly attuned to the mood between them. "I'm sorry," Hermione said, and pressed her lips against Severus' cheek. He remained sober and unmoving, and then he came up with another thing to say. "Do you know," he asked, still with his eyes closed and his face towards the ceiling, "how many years I spent thinking I was going to be alone, forever?"

    "I have no idea," Hermione answered, though she could likely have guessed the answer to this question, too.

    "All my life," Severus answered, taking a deep breath. "less the years Lily was my best friend, and I knew I was going to marry her."

    He sighed. "But even then, some part of me knew she'd never be with me. So I suppose I never stopped thinking I would be alone forever. Hermione," he said, and his voice was somewhat more urgent, but he didn't open his eyes. "It's only after I'm forty five years old that I'm beginning to hope that I will have company in my life, til the end. That's, so..."

    Severus opened his eyes blearily and looked at Hermione. There was a fogginess in his eyes, but he was clear-headed when he said, "I'm glad that I'm starting to have hope on this front, is what I mean to say."

    "Thank you, for saying all that," Hermione answered. "I want to be there for you, Severus, through the end times, whatever they might be."

    Severus closed his eyes again, nodded faintly, and Hermione extricated herself from his arms. She proceeded to kiss him softly, determinedly, on the lips as she went back to the kitchenette.



    (Songs: Mendelssohn, Song Without Words For Cello & Piano In D Major, Op. 109. Max Bruch, Kol Nidrei, For Cello & Orchestra, Op. 47.)
     

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