Chapter Text
"Truth, dare, double dare, fuck, kiss or torture!" The well-known singsong was accompanied by a silence that made Hermione nervous. She shifted slightly in her spot, glaring around the circle of made up of her friends.
"It's love, kiss or torture," she admonished primly. Ron and Harry had the sense to blush, while the others just giggled.
"C'mon, Herms," Ginny cut in, "we all know our version is much more interesting." Draco nodded in agreement and cut a glance at their inattentive 'supervisors'. Merlin forbid a Weasley, let alone four, be allowed in Lucius Malfoy's sitting room without the appropriate ‘adult supervision’.
Hermione glared at the only other girl in the room. "You're supposed to be on my side."
"And Harry was supposed to be straight."
"Hey!" Harry whined, then, putting on a ridiculously pompous accent, he continued, "It's not my fault that Malfoys are positively irresistible."
"Can we get on with this?" Ron muttered, not liking the direction the conversation was taking.
"Yeah, Hermione," Fred teased.
"What'll it be?" added George.
Hermione studied George and his semi-corporeal twin. "Well I know better than to ask for a dare and knowing you pair, you'll want some stupidly embarrassing truth. My best chance is probably torture; at least then you’ll probably just tickle me," She paused, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. She seemed to steel herself and looked up at the grinning twins, determination burning in her chestnut eyes. "Torture." She affirmed with a curt nod of her bushy head. There was a snort from one of the wingback chairs by the fire.
The twins looked at each other, their grins widening, if at all possible. "For your torture," Fred began.
"You are to sit on Lord Malfoy's lap," George continued.
"Whilst Snape-“
"Professor Snape," Hermione corrected automatically – and was ignored.
“-snogs you," Fred added.
"For two minutes," George finished, folding his arms across his chest.
Hermione looked somewhat taken aback by this, before schooling her features into a fiery glare. "And I suppose that would have been your dare if I'd been stupid enough to take one?"
"No, we'd have had you do something much more entertaining," George replied.
"But this is torture, so we thought we’d keep it relatively bearable," Fred reasoned.
"Mmm," she replied, lips pressed into an unamused line.
"Just get it over with! Please!" Ron groaned, throwing his arm across his face to shield his eyes.
"Fine," Hermione replied, glaring at the snickering twins as she stood. She was careful not to flash her knickers – Slytherin green under her Gryffindor red skirt. She strode across to Lucius in his ornate, green wingback chair and perched herself in his lap, straddling him with her back to the group.
Lucius grinned when he found his lap suddenly full of witch and, eyeing the group of young adults across from him, purred, "Finally come around have we? I knew you couldn't resist my charms, Miss Granger." Ron glared at him – his voice had been just loud enough to be heard across the room.
"Professor Snape, if you will?" she said, twisting to see him.
Severus raised an incredulous brow, then shot of his chair and stalked across to Lucius and Hermione, glaring icily at the group on the floor.
"Both of us?" Lucius asked, pretending surprise.
“Shut up, Malfoy. This is torture.”
“If you say so,” he responded, smirk firmly in place.
“Nobody said I couldn’t slap you,” she warned, grinning back.
Severus smirked sadistically. “And how have the cretins decided to torture the brains of the outfit?”
Hermione pouted and folded her arms under her breasts, subtly pushing them up, before saying, “They want my least favourite men to molest me. The professor is to kiss me while I sit in Lord Malfoy’s lap. It is absolutely preposterous.”
Lucius peered over her shoulder at the snickering group on the floor. “Exactly what am I supposed to do with a lap-full of witch, while Severus is having a snogging session? Sit back and think of England? – Better yet, Dumbledore’s saggy arse?”
Everyone cringed at the latter and Ron was looking more than a little green, but the twins looked otherwise unfazed. Fred looked to George and George grinned back, their eyes twinkling in a frightening imitation of Dumbledore. Ron covered his ears.
“I think the man deserves a reward for his suffering,” George said.
“I think so,” said Fred.
“Some groping, perhaps?” George grinned.
“Definitely groping,” Fred affirmed, matching his twin’s mischievous grin.
Hermione turned to glare at them. “You two are absolutely insufferable.”
“It’s not us that Snape--”
“Professor Snape.”
“--Used to call an ‘insufferable know-it-all,’ is it?”
Hermione narrowed her eyes at the two, but bit her tongue and turned back to the man whose lap she was occupying.
“Come now, Miss Granger, I’m not so horrid, am I?” Lucius practically quipped, a glint of laughter in his cool, grey eyes.
“Absolutely abhorrent,” she replied, trying hard to keep her tone neutral.
Severus cleared his throat impatiently, garnering the attention of everyone in the room. “If I am to be tortured more than Miss Granger herself, I would appreciate if we were to proceed as quickly as possible so that I can return to my book and forget the entire incident.”
Hermione glared icily at the two men “It’s not as if I’m particularly keen on snogging you, Professor.”
“Indeed,” was her only reply.
With a huff, Hermione grabbed the large, manicured hands of Malfoy (senior) and placed them on her waist. “Keep them there,” she instructed in a tone that brooked no argument. That didn’t stop the twins from trying.
“Come on, Herms!” George whined.
“Yeah,” Fred agreed, “That’s no fun.”
Hermione glared coldly at the pair, but relented. “Fine. But I reserve the right to slap them away.”
“Always,” Lucius purred, ever the ‘gentleman’.
“Get on with it!” Ginny shouted, nearly vibrating with anticipation.
Hermione squared her shoulders and allowed Lucius to press her more firmly into his lap. She twisted to face Severus, her eyes narrowed with determination and jaw set stubbornly. Severus let a brief smirk tug at his lips, before seating himself on the arm of the chair, slipping his long fingers into her wild curls, holding her head still and lowering his face to hers.
“Start the tempus. I don’t want to suffer any longer than necessary,” he muttered. As his lips met Hermione's, the tempus glowed to life above their heads and they kissed gently, supressing their usual familiarity. It wouldn’t do to spoil the twins’ fun. She was acutely aware of the slow stroking motion of Lucius' soft hands as they brushed her hips and waist, slowly edging under her shirt.
His fingertips had just brushed the skin of her waist when someone from the group on the floor demanded, “Kiss like you mean it!”
Then a twin shouted, “Yeah! Use your tongue!”
Severus glared at them and gave a huff of annoyance. Nevertheless, he redoubled his efforts, engaging the witch in a searing, dominating kiss that was much closer to what she was used to. Her eyes rolled back into her head and her chest heaved with the suddenly momentous effort of drawing breath.
Lucius' hands were creeping further up the bare skin under her shirt and moving slowly towards her front to brush the undersides of her breasts. “Malfoy,” she warned around a mouthful of Severus’ wicked tongue. Keeping up appearances. Lucius grunted his acknowledgement and moved his hands back to her bared waist, gripping tightly and pushing her into his lap to grind against the hard ridge in his trousers. She moaned softly into Severus’ mouth and he straightened, making her arch her neck to maintain their contact.
He began slowly twisting his hips, grinding his straining erection against her core. Severus managed to cover their moans with a grumpy growl and, deciding not to risk the true nature of their interactions being discovered, cast a silent, wandless muffliato.
By the time the tempus gave off its ten second warning, which sounded suspiciously like a fart, Hermione and Severus were struggling to restrain themselves. His hands – all long, dextrous fingers and broad palms – were buried firmly in her tangle of curls to prevent wandering elsewhere and he had moved again, kneeling partially on a pouf to lower the angle of Hermione's head and hide the tantalising stretch of creamy skin that was her neck, which he knew would taste of vanilla and honey and Hermione. Lucius, too, was struggling to keep his hands safely on her hips and waist; if they were to drift to her thighs, he might be tempted to place them elsewhere, a place he knew would make the youngest Weasley boy red with rage – something he could do without today.
When the tempus rang to signify the end of the torture, Hermione and Severus parted, concealing their reluctance with a mock-glare. Had anyone bothered to look, they would have found glazed eyes and dilated pupils, sure signs of arousal, but to the group on the floor, it was impossible that either could be aroused by the other, so nobody checked. Severus pulled his voluminous robes tightly around his body and stalked back to his chair, glaring darkly at the group on the floor.
Lucius, slightly flushed, but not noticeably dishevelled gave Hermione a haughty smirk. “Will I see you in my rooms tonight, or will I be left to my own devices as usual?”
“I’m taken,” Hermione responded, the warmth in her eyes belying the icy tone.
“Then you’d best hope he’s willing to share,” Lucius smoothed, pulling her pointedly onto the nearly painful ridge in his trousers.
“My torture is over Malfoy. Don’t push your luck,” she said, “now release me.”
“Fine, but I will persuade you yet, Miss Granger.” He released her hips and, in perfect synchronicity with her standing up, crossed his knees and turned slightly to hide the prominent bulge in his trousers. Picking up his book again to use as a shield against prying eyes, he watched Hermione return to the group on the floor, hiding a grin at the fleeting sight of her brilliant green underwear.
Hermione returned to the circle and sat down primly, hands folded in her lap and eyes fixed on Ginny. “Truth, dare, double dare, love kiss or torture?”