Ch 170 – Help from Weasely Twins
Warning - Lucifer, the Devil is Billions of years old.
Hermione with multiple personalities, her character's real age during sexual intercourse is 18+
(Hermione - Blessed by Amenadiel, time works differently for her, she has already surpassed age of 18+)
___________
The next couple of weeks passed by simply enough.
Lucifer had a couple more lessons with Ginny, trying to help flesh out her knowledge of the first-year curriculum.
On Friday evening, Lucifer and Hermione both sat and gathered around the fire talking about the Potions lesson with Snape the day prior, in which he had been particularly vindictive towards Dean Thomas.
When a piece of paper almost hits Lucifer on the side of the head, if not for his quick reflexes.
Hermione didn't seem to notice. He unrolled it quickly and read.
Fifth year boys dorm.
Lucifer looked around the common room quickly and saw Lee Jordan give him a short nod before disappearing away up the dormitory staircase.
“Just need to go grab something from my dorm. Back in a moment,” And with that he slipped off the arm of Hermione’s chair and up towards the dormitory stairs.
Lucifer climbed straight past where the third years slept and reached a door marked ‘Fifth Years’.
He gave a short knock before it was wrenched open and he was yanked inside.
“Damn Jordan, trying to take my arm off?’ Lucifer asked, mock rubbing it gingerly as Lee snapped the door closed behind him.
‘It’s what they told me to do!’ Lee said defensively, pointing across the room as Fred and George emerged from the shadows.
‘If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were about to rob me,’ Lucifer said, cautiously as the twins moved forward.
‘Oh please, if we wanted to rob you, we’d have done it by now,’ Fred said with a rather sinister laugh.
“Okay, so maybe you’d like to tell me what this is about then, before I start getting concerned.”
‘Ah right, yeah,’ George said, waving his wand and three pieces of parchment soared into his hand.
‘Plan for tomorrow. We can’t have Ron with us at all times, we have some personal stuff to do. So, this is where we’ll leave him.’ And George passed him one of the pieces.
‘This is where we think you and Hermione will like to go. Lots of places for bookworms and lovey dovey sorts,’ Fred said, handing over the second piece of parchment with a slight look of disgust. ‘Plus, a few recommendations from us.’
‘And this,’ George said, holding up the third piece which was completely blank, ‘Is for us. If he appears and starts tailing you two, write your location on it, it’ll burn up and vanish but we’ll receive it and come take him back off your hands.”
‘Wow,’ Lucifer felt impressed, looking down at the parchments in his hand. ‘You guys really thought of everything.’
‘You helped us out a great deal for over investment in the Joke shop, Lucifer,’ Fred said, clapping him on the back.
‘Glad to do business with you,” Lucifer said, looking around at the three of them.
“Have you seen how she looks at you?’ George said.
‘She’s crazy for you mate, has been for years!” Fred smirked.
‘They’re completely right,’ added Lee.
‘Well, besides the point,’ Lucifer said, fighting the heat rising in his face, ‘I still appreciate it.’
With a final wave, Lucifer slipped out of the fifth-year dormitory and moved back down to the third years, where he stowed all three pieces of parchment under his pillow.
He’d be reading those this evening.
Then, he made his way back downstairs.
Lucifer lay awake for a long while that evening, he’d purposefully gone to bed early to give himself enough time to read over the notes, but even still it took some time to figure out exactly where and what Fred and George had marked, as he was needing to avoid disturbing his fellow dorm mates.
Even once he finally fell asleep, Lucifer found himself waking often, his heart pounding or tossing and turning.
‘It’s only Hermione,’ he told himself every time before rolling over and trying to get back to sleep.
Finally, at around 6 am, he simply conceded and headed to work on the enchantments in his bathroom.
It was nearly finished.
__________
Once, Hermione was clean, she debated the merits of a quick go with the shower head.
An orgasm would relax her . . . but she wanted to save up all her pleasure points for a bigger reward later that night.
With a sigh of finality, she turned off the water and wrapped herself in a charmed towel to keep warm while she went in search of some suitable attire.
She didn’t have that many clothes, so the decision wasn’t difficult.
Most of her dresses were too homey for a date. She needed an outfit that said -
“Fuckmefuckmefuckme!” without making her look desperate—so showing up in nothing but a negligee and high heels was definitely out.
'God damn it, Hermione.
That's for night, you idiot! Look for a day outfit!'
Her grey sweater dress seemed promising, form-fitting yet conservative.
Hermione held it up to herself in the mirror to see how it looked.
Nice. Classy.
She laid it out on the bed and went to find some erection-inspiring lingerie, that will make her night after coming from Hogsmeade.
That was a much longer debate. She didn’t want Lucifer nicking any more of her knickers, but she wanted to entice.
Her black push-up bra would give her nice cleavage, so that at least was an easy choice.
She tossed it on the bed and continued to riffle through her underwear.
Black would match her bra . . . satin . . . lace . . . microfiber . . . Bah! Who could choose?
That‘s when she found her Mum's old garter belt stuffed in the back of the drawer.
She pulled it out with a wide smile.
'Very sexy.' And tights would be far too clunky for a possible sexcapade; this was the perfect opportunity to wear something impractical.
Where were those lacy-topped nude stockings she’d stolen to go with it?
Digging through her tights, she found them wrapped up in a pair of old pantyhose.
Pulling off her towel, she shimmied into the garter belt and checked herself in the mirror.
'Ooooo! You’re a naughty girl, Hermione Granger!'
'You know what’s even naughtier? No knickers. Panty problem solved.'
Hermione burst into giggles.
Even if she didn’t whip out her kitty in the middle of drink at Three Broomsticks, it would be exciting to know she was bare beneath her conservative dress.
“You ready for some fun, Kitty?”
She spread her labia to make sure she wasn’t bedecked with towel fuzz.
'All clear.'
Hermione started to laugh at herself, a mad cackle of nervousness that rose up from the depths of her churning stomach and took on a life of its own.
Oh marvelous! Of all the days to lose my mind. What timing!
Pressing her hands into her belly to smash the butterflies that had erupted from her duodenum, she took a deep breath.
Okay. No reason to panic. It’s just a date. First date with your boyfriend. You see Lucifer every day.
Nothing to be nervous about. And he is just a boy . . . not a chocolate-coated orgasm filled with rainbows and puppies.
‘Our boy with a magically delicious dick,’ her pussy drawled.
Hermione looked down. 'Why does my pussy voice sound like Mae West?'
She rubbed her forehead and told her brain to shut up.
It was time to get ready, and here she was psyching herself out and arguing with her sarcastic snatch.
“You’ll just have to be mental later. I’m busy today.”
When she received no reply from any inanimate body parts, Hermione assured herself she was quite sane and went on with her preparations—ignoring the growing tremor in her hands.
Hermione dressed quickly—refusing to dally, which would only increase the probability of panic—then headed to the bathroom to do her hair and makeup.
The weather had left her mane looking like an electro-static science experiment, and she knew there was only one thing for it. Chignon.
Raking the brush through her curls, she detangled the poofy mass until it resembled a frizzy bale of hay, which did nothing to ease her mind concerning her supposed sanity.
Deranged milkmaid wasn’t quite the look she was going for.
Never one to admit defeat so early in the game, Hermione cracked her knuckles and prepared for a long battle.
Gathering her magic clips, she twisted and smoothed her locks into a classy up-do, gnawing on her lower lip as she concentrated on her reflection.
By the time she’d gotten it all arranged and magically pinned in place, her arms were trembling with exhaustion.
But it does look good, she told herself, shaking out her shoulders and stretching her neck.
Heaving a sigh of relief that it had all gone to plan, Hermione went to work on her small makeup, shading and highlighting her face for a polished presentation.
She wanted to wow him; for some reason she felt as if she had something to prove.
When she took a step back to check the full effect in the mirror, she was pleasantly surprised.
Usually she came off as harried and frazzled, but today she looked calm and sophisticated.
'Appearances can be deceiving', she thought, patting the remaining butterflies and blowing out a shaky exhale.
“Crooks, I’m leaving now,” Hermione shouted as she shoved her wand in her evening clutch and stepped into her shoes. (Heels for later at night)
“I will be late.”
Crookshanks sat bathing himself on the sofa like a squashy little maharajah, but he stopped to give her an appraising once over as she passed.
Hermione left her private dorm, as she didn't want to get late because of either Lavender or Parvati's long ass time to get ready.
Before entering the Great Hall for breakfast, she took a moment to catch her breath and calm down her pounding heart.
'Just relax, Hermione. You’ve got this. Play it cool. Cool like Crookshanks. I am the queen of cool, calm cats.'
Standing taller, she nodded resolutely. 'Right. Here we go!'
xxxxxx
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