Convergence

Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me, and the carrots belong to sempra.

Convergence

“Good morning, Granger.” Snape strode into the office without knocking, his expression betraying no acknowledgement of the previous evening’s activities.

“Morning, Snape. Just take a seat; I’ll be back in a tick, just have to ask Meredith to send out these memos.” As she rose from her seat, Hermione’s robe caught the edge of her beaded purse, spilling some of the contents onto the floor. Oblivious, the witch left the room to speak with her assistant.

Snape glanced down at the items scattered on the carpet. Reaching down to pick them up, his keen eyes spotted a loose sheet of parchment bearing his name. After a quick glance at the door confirmed Granger was deep in discussion with her young colleague, he quickly ran his eyes down the lines of neat script. A smug expression crept over his face as he returned the fallen items to their proper place.

“Right, now, where were we?” Hermione reached for a bulging file from her pending tray.

“You were about to order me to slowly remove your clothing and pleasure your body until you screamed for mercy?” If he could just figure out a way to get rid of Meredith for an hour or so.

“As lovely as that sounds, no. We have work to do. This report came in today. There is definite evidence of…”

Snape could see her lips moving and hear words, but his mind was too busy imagining all the decadent and wonderful activities the witch before him might like to participate in to pay them any heed. He nodded and made non-committal sounds at appropriate places until he heard the magic words…

“ … come to dinner, Snape. We can discuss this further then.”

“Pardon? Dinner? Why not? I’ll see you at…?”

“Six o’clock. Tonight. You know where we live?” Hermione almost giggled. It was too easy.

“Of course. I’ll be there.” With that, Snape took the file from his superior’s hands and swept out of the room, taking care to provide a nice view of his superb arse as he left.

Some hours later the mood was set. The two conspirators checked their plans.

“Food. In oven. Wine, chilling. Chocolate sauce, Warming Charm. Music, seductive. Lighting, low. Robes, sexy. Underwear…” Hermione looked down and smirked at Ron. “Nonexistent. We’re ready. He should be here any minute. Act naturally.”

“I’m not the one wearing no knickers and adjusting her neckline every two minutes. Just relax, ‘Mione. This will work.” Ron caught his anxious wife in his arms and spent the next few minutes gallantly distracting her from her thoughts.

Snape’s arrival fortunately cut short any further activities before they could get too far ahead of him. Hermione, aware the flimsy fabric of her robes did nothing to hide the evidence of her arousal, ensured he had a good view down her cleavage as she served the simple meal.

“I hope you have saved the carrot course for later,” Snape observed just as Ron and Hermione had taken forkfuls of curry. The subsequent clean up and apologies served to break the ice a little, and soon the three were ensconced on the couch, sharing anecdotes involving vegetables, magic, and Neville Longbottom.

“So, Snape, what would you like to do now?” asked Ron.

“Oh, I think a little ice-cream with chocolate sauce would not go amiss. Perhaps I can do the honours?” He missed the secret smile shared by his two internally-cheering companions.

“Hmm. I could think of other places it could be better used,” murmured Hermione, placing her hand on Snape’s right thigh as her husband softly caressed his left. It was no accident Snape had ended up between them.

“Why, Mrs Granger-Weasley, I do believe you are touching me in a less than professional manner,” Snape drawled, thighs parting to allow both hands to travel higher.

“I do believe I am, Snape. And I suspect I will need to check these robes do not contain any suspicious vegetables in a moment.”

“Check away, madam, I have nothing to hide.”

No further encouragement needed, Hermione flicked open a few buttons on his all-concealing robes and proceeded to make good her promise.

“My, what have we here? Auror Weasley, please confirm my findings.”

Ron’s hand followed his wife’s under the now partly unfastened robes.

“I agree. This definitely requires further investigation. Someone appears to have made off with this wizard’s trousers and underwear.” Long fingers thoroughly investigated the appalling state of affairs beneath Snape’s robes. A small hand joined in, stroking and caressing the object of their mutual interest until a soft groan from the wizard between them drew their attention to his face.

“Sounds like he has a little problem,” Ron declared, his own trousers feeling decidedly uncomfortable.

“Not… that… little…” grunted Snape, closing his eyes as Hermione’s rhythmic explorations found new ways to torture him with pleasure.

“Do you think we should remove those robes, so we can examine the evidence?”

“Absolutely.” With surprising efficiency, Ron had the offending area completely exposed. “Hmm. Not bad. Not bad at all. I like your technique, dear, but maybe a little twist of the wrist on the upstroke would enhance your results?”

Snape’s eyes flew open as the witch complied. “Holy Merlin! Where did you learn that trick, Weasley?”

“I can’t reveal my sources. Now, just relax and allow us to do our job. You wouldn’t want to hinder an important investigation, would you?” Ron grinned at Hermione as the dark wizard slumped further, legs now widely parted. He winked as he reached behind the couch for the carrot he had hidden earlier. “Now, we just need to do one final test before we can determine conclusively whether the field is clear for expoundification.”

“You made that word up!” Hermione scolded, slowing her movements as she glared at her husband.

“Did not.”

“Did so. There’s no such word.”

“Yes, there is.”

“Weasley, there’s no such word. Granger, if you slow down now, I swear I’ll destroy those damned carrots one by one,” growled the man between them, all pretence of indifference cast aside as he felt a stupendous orgasm slipping from his grasp. Or Hermione’s grasp, at the very least.

“Sorry. There, is that better?” Hermione resumed her task, adding a little oral exploration for completeness.

“Oh, gods, yes. More… more… Fuck, Weasley, forget the bloody carrot, don’t you have something better to use? Arghhh! Yes… yes… yesss!”

“Bloody hell, ‘Mione, he’s so tight, I can’t hold back! Watch your nose!”

Much later, once all the evidence had been thoroughly studied, with and without chocolate sauce, it was determined that no illicit vegetables had been concealed on Snape’s person. The matter of those concealed down the cushions of the couch, under the pillows on the bed, and behind the pile of towels in the bathroom was a matter for another day.

Much, much later, on the way to the kitchen to top up the chocolate sauce supply, Hermione Granger-Weasley, Head Unspeakable and all round devious witch, dug out a much shorter list from her beaded bag and tossed it into the rubbish bin with a satisfied flourish.

DIRTY TRICKS

3. SHAG SENSELESS

The End

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A/N: Thanks to sempra, whose kinky carrot fetish started this off. And she even betaed it!