Hermione Potter paced nervously from parlor to library and back again.  She had discussed her plan with Ginny Malfoy at length, finally convincing the younger woman to do it only a week ago.  She chewed on a lock of hair and obsessed over all the things that could go wrong with her plan.

“Hermione, you’re making me dizzy,” Harry said, setting Quidditch Weekly aside.  “Why are you so nervous?”

She felt her heart leap into her throat.  “I’m not nervous.”

He stood and crossed the room, smiling gently.  “You’re a terrible liar, Hermione.”  She glared, making him laugh.  “It’s true!  You’re a worse liar than I am unless it’s to authority figures.”

She sniffed, offended more for form than in reality.  Still laughing, Harry gathered her in his arms, pulling her close in a hug.

After pressing his lips to the top of her head, he said, “And I ask again, why are you so nervous?”

“I just am,” she growled.  He would find out soon enough.

With a sigh that indicated he was tamping down his frustration, he tipped her head up and kissed her.  Surprised, she did not respond immediately.  Harry deepened the kiss, sliding his hands under her t-shirt.

Her moan was cut short by the ringing of the doorbell.  Her heart rate, already accelerated due to nerves and Harry’s kiss, shot even higher, reminding her of a hummingbird.

Harry broke the kiss and took a half-step back.  “Are you all right?”  She pressed a hand to her chest as if to slow her heart, but nodded.  The look he gave her at that response was full of doubt, but he did not press the point.

Hermione waited in the parlor while Harry answered the door.  She swallowed her sudden nausea at hearing Ginny and Draco’s voices raised in greeting.

Taking a deep breath, she smiled as the Malfoys entered the parlor.  She exchanged a glance with Ginny and nodded slightly in response to the woman’s questioning look.  Ginny smiled and turned to Draco, who had missed the exchange.  Hermione turned to Harry, her stomach giving a nervous twinge at the all-too-perceptive questions in his expression.

“Why don’t we head into the lounge?” Hermione murmured.  “Kreacher has drinks and some food there for us.”

She did not add that she had spent part of the afternoon preparing the room for other activities.  Though a bedroom would be more comfortable, she thought both Harry and Draco would resist her plan if they were in a bedroom.  A lounge was much less formal for what she had in mind.

After sharing a quizzical look with Draco, Harry shrugged.  “Let’s go.”

Thirty minutes of strained conversation and too many drinks on Hermione’s part finally led Harry to rounding on his wife, his annoyance clear.

“Hermione, what is going on?”  She blinked, caught.  “You’re nearly as tense and insane as before our NEWTs.”

“I’ve been thinking about what happened at Christmas,” she admitted.  She met Ginny’s eyes briefly, as well as Draco’s, before turning back to Harry.  “And I wanted to experiment.”

“That’s what you has you wound tighter than a broken watch?” Draco exclaimed.  All eyes turned to him.  “It’s obvious she’s been tense and worried, even more so than usual, even for her.”

“Thank you so much, Draco,” Hermione hissed testily.

“I don’t have a problem with watching you and Ginny if you want her again.”  Smiling, he leaned back in the chair and waved a hand negligently at Hermione.  “Go ahead.”

“And if I had a problem with that?” Harry growled, hands twitching as if wanting to clench into fists.

“You only have to say something,” Draco replied mildly.

“Stop, you two!” Hermione cried, standing.  “That’s not the experiment I had in mind.”

Harry and Draco both looked up at her rather than glaring at each other.

“Oh?” Harry murmured.

A blush rose on Hermione’s cheeks.  She shuffled her feet nervously, a habit she normally only resorted to as a last resort.

“Out with it, Granger,” Draco said, earning himself a sharp look from Ginny and Harry.

“I already talked to Ginny,” she began.  Ginny smiled encouragingly as Harry and Draco shot looks at her before returning their attention to Hermione.

“And?” Harry prompted.

Hermione took a deep breath, then blurted, “We swap.”

Silence fell.  Ginny rose and crossed the room to wrap her arms around Hermione in a hug.

“Swap?” Harry finally asked, voice low.

Ginny turned to him.  “Yes, so that it would be you with me, and Draco with Hermione.”

“No,” Draco said flatly.  Hermione and Ginny turned to him.  “I don’t want Potter touching my wife.”

“But you don’t mind touching mine?” Harry asked, his tone deceptively soft.

“I didn’t say that.”

“I know you didn’t, but the first thing out of your mouth was that I can’t touch Ginny, not that you didn’t want to touch Hermione.”

If it were not undignified, Draco’s jaw would have dropped.  “You wouldn’t care if I fucked Hermione?”

Harry leaned back to take in all three of them.  “I’m not fond of the idea, but we started it.”

“How do you reckon that?”

Harry grinned.  “By encouraging Ginny to seduce Hermione.”  Harry tilted his head to one side and added, “It could be worse.”

“How?” Draco retorted bleakly.

“They could ask you and I to fuck.”

Harry laughed as Draco’s jaw dropped.  Ginny moaned softly even as Hermione grinned.

“That would be hot,” Ginny said.  Turning to Hermione, she asked, “Can we change our request to that?”

Hermione answered, “We could.”

Draco paled further.  “No, no and hell no.”

Harry batted his eyelashes.  “I’m hurt, Draco.”

Draco scoffed.  “I always knew you were twisted, Potter, but I never thought you’d be bent.”

“I’m not, but I will admit the thought may have crossed my mind.”

Everyone stared at him even as Hermione exclaimed, “What?”

Harry blushed.  “In school.  I’ll admit to a few Quidditch fantasies, especially fifth year when I wanted to beat you senseless.  In more ways than one.”

“My, my, Harry,” Ginny teased.

Draco leaned forward, braced his forehead in his hands, and muttered, “Fuck.”

“Had one or two of those, Draco?” Hermione asked.

“Damn you both,” he spat.  Looking up, he speared Hermione with his gaze.  “And about you.”

Hermione gasped, then, pulling away from Ginny, crossed to Draco and knelt before him.  “You had Quidditch fantasies about me?”

Draco rolled his eyes.  “Of course not,” he said haughtily.  “I had library fantasies about you.”

“Haven’t we all?” Harry said, smiling.  Confidentially, he added, “She has a librarian costume.”

Draco met Hermione’s eyes, causing her to blush.  He then looked at Harry.  “Don’t you have a problem with this?”

Harry sighed.  “I did until I thought about what Hermione and Ginny did – and I didn’t have a problem with that.  Technically, if I’d share her with a woman, sharing her with a man should be no different.”

“That’s not exactly the reasoning I would have used,” Hermione said.

“But the bastard does have a point.  What about fantasies you’ve had about my wife, Potter?”

Before Harry could say anything, Ginny interrupted, “Draco, no matter what I might do with Harry, I’m not leaving you for him.  Even if I wanted to, Hermione wouldn’t let me.”

“See, Malfoy, nothing to worry about,” Harry said, smiling.

“You really want to do this, Gin?”

Ginny smiled.  “I think I would.  Variety and all.”

“And Polyjuice wouldn’t suffice?”  Draco asked, sounding pained.

Nearly in unison, Harry and Hermione said, “It tastes awful.”

Draco raised his eyebrows at Hermione.  “The Perfect Prefect took Polyjuice?”

“Took it?  Hell, she brewed it,” Harry interjected.

“You have hidden depths,” Draco murmured.

Ginny sighed and turned to Harry.  “Enough talk.”  Climbing into Harry’s lap, she pushed him backwards and kissed him..

Hermione turned to Draco.  She smiled, then surprised Draco by pulling him down onto the floor.

“Hey!” he protested, attempting to climb back into his chair.  She straddled him, pinning him to the floor.

Her eyebrows rose as she felt the hard ridge of his erection against her.  “Not interested, Draco?” she murmured, a smile teasing her lips.

“I never said that,” he protested, biting his lower lip when she shifted again.

A moan drew their attention to their spouses.  Ginny had hiked her skirt over her waist and tugged Harry’s trousers down far enough to free his cock.  As Draco and Hermione watched, Ginny sank onto Harry’s cock, drawing another moan from both of them.  Harry leaned back in the chair, slouching slightly to give Ginny a better angle.

“They work fast,” Draco murmured.

Hermione turned back to him.  “Harry’s quick for the first time, then draws out a second, and sometimes a third.”

Challenge lit Draco’s eyes.  “Three times?”

Hermione huffed, though was pleased.  “I want to be able to walk in the morning.”

“Put on the librarian costume, Granger.”  She crossed her arms over her chest and glared down at him.  “Please, Hermione.”

Rather than run to her bedroom and change, she stood, grabbed her wand from the table and, closing her eyes, envisioned the costume.  A tap of her wand against her hair, blouse and trousers changed them:  her hair wound itself into a messy bun, while her blouse and trousers became prim robes.  The others would discover soon enough she wore nothing but tiny lace knickers and a matching bra beneath.

“Fuck, Hermione,” Harry groaned, then arched his hips and came inside Ginny.

Ginny rode out Harry’s climax before leaning forward and tangling her hands in his hair.  Tugging his head up, she growled, “You’ll be calling my name next.”

He grinned.  “Yes, ma’am.”

“You have him whipped, Granger,” Draco said softly.  Hermione looked down at him, hard-pressed to keep the impassive and slightly disapproving expression on her face.  He was stroking his cock through his trousers, eyes riveted on Ginny and Harry.

“Mr Malfoy,” Hermione growled in a stern voice.  “I’ve warned you before about wanking in the library.”

Draco’s head snapped to Hermione.  He took in her costume with one lazy look, and then smirked.  “You have, Madam Granger.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot on the ground.  “And I’ve told you before that I’m now Madam Potter.”

“You have,” he replied, standing.  Now that they were both standing, he could loom over her, using his five-inch height advantage.  “I don’t care.”

“Shall I assign detention, Mr Malfoy?”

Draco grinned and advanced upon Hermione.  She continued to back away until she ran into the wall.  Leaning forward until she could feel his breath on her cheek, he whispered, “I’d love to servevine as you in detention.”

Her breath caught.  She had not expected this role-play, nor how much it aroused her – almost as much as when she played this role with Harry.  She glanced at Ginny and her husband, somehow not surprised to find Ginny tangled around him like a vine as they lay, now naked, on the cushioned floor.  The floor was one of the improvements she had made earlier.  She could see a fine sheen of sweat on Harry’s back and knew Ginny was driving him close to the edge again.

“I think you’re repressed, Madam Granger,” Draco murmured.  Another step pressed her flat against the wall.  His erection dug into her hip.

“Repressed, Mr Malfoy?” she asked frostily.

“Otherwise you wouldn’t be aroused watching Potter fuck Miss Weasley in the library,” he said.  Leaning even closer, his breath hot on her neck, he continued, “But you want to watch.”

A soft moan escaped her before she could control it.

With a shout of triumph, Draco tangled a hand in Hermione’s hair, pulling it free of its bun, and brought his lips crashing against hers.  Trying to stay in character, she pushed at his shoulders.

Only after they were both breathless did Draco break the kiss.  Ignoring her protests, he ripped her prim robes open, then gasped and took a step back at the sight of her black lace knickers and bra.  Her skin, though not as pale as Draco’s, was almost pearlescent in contrast to the black.

“Damn, Hermione,” he hissed.

She smiled tentatively, only to gasp when he ripped the side of her knickers and slid his fingers between her lower lips.

“Well, Madam Granger, I think you do get off on watching.”  He had regained his composure as he watched her come undone at the ministrations of his fingers.  “I think you need a good fuck, Madam Granger.”

“Mr Malfoy!” she gasped, hoping she sounded outraged but afraid she only sounded desperately aroused.

He bit her earlobe before hissing, “I think you go to Quidditch matches to watch Potter, then sneak into the changing room to watch him wank.”

“No, I don’t,” she protested, but the idea had taken hold.  The fantasy of watching Harry fly, then spying on him in the changing room was one she had not shared with Harry yet.

She came when Draco added, “Then, instead of seeing him fuck Miss Weasley after the game, you watch me fuck him.”

Before she could recover fully, Draco lifted her and slid her onto his cock.  She did not remember him freeing himself, but admitted she had been caught up in her fantasy.

“Damn, you’re wet,” Draco groaned.  “The idea of me and your husband together must really turn you on.”

She turned her head and met his eyes.  “And you don’t wish you could have watched your wife with her mouth buried between my thighs?”

He groaned.  “You have a point.  Now shut up before I put that mouth to better use.”

She grinned.  “Maybe you’re all talk, Malfoy.  After all, you talked me into coming, you didn’t fuck me to orgasm.”

The light of challenge returned to his eyes.  Pulling out of her, he turned them both so she was pressed facedown over the back of the sofa.  Shoving her robes above her waist, he drove back into her hard enough to elicit a grunt.  Gripping one hip tight, he used his free hand to unhook her bra so he could grab her breasts.  It did not take long before he discovered she liked her nipples pinched hard, harder than expected.

She wanted to concentrate on what Draco as doing, but just when she thought her attention was fully on the man inside her, Harry groaned.  She knew it was dirty to watch them, but she could not resist.  Draco was right about her voyeuristic tendencies.  The sight of Harry’s come on Ginny’s thighs was nearly enough to make her climax without any other stimulus.

At the moment, though, Ginny was kneeling between Harry’s spread thighs, his cock buried completely in her mouth.

“How long do you think he’ll last, Granger?” Draco growled, both hands now on her breasts, kneading and pinching.  She could only moan.  “She’s very good at cock-sucking.  I think she practiced on produce for years, hoping to get Harry’s cock in her mouth without gagging.”  He thrusts once, then stayed buried, merely flexing inside her.  She panted, close to climax.  “You know how her mouth is, how oral she is.  How long will your husband last?”

“Oh, fuck,” she cried, melting in climax once again.  Draco took advantage of it and pounded into her, drawing out her climax before he finally spilled into her.

She could only grunt softly as Draco carried her to the floor next to Harry and Ginny.  When she felt a mouth against her, licking Draco’s come from her, she thought nothing of it until she saw Harry on one side and Draco on the other, both stroking themselves as they watched.

“Ginny,” she gasped.  Ginny looked up and smiled before returning to her task.

“Do you think I should make Potter clean up my wife, Granger?” Draco mused, grinning as Hermione moaned.  “You know, Harry, I think your wife is as aroused by talk as by action.”

His smile was evident in his voice when Harry answered, “I know she is.  Talking her to an orgasm in a public place is one of my favorite things to do.”

Remembering the last public event they attended, the remembrance events to celebrate the end of the war, and how he had talked her to a climax at the dinner table, she gasped Harry’s name, gripped Ginny’s head, and came again.

When she opened her eyes, she was spooned back against her husband, his cock nestled against her arse, watching Draco drive himself into Ginny.  She moaned softly as she watched them kiss and realized Draco would taste all three of them in Ginny’s mouth.

Harry flicked her clit with two fingers as he eased into her.  Between kisses to the back of her neck, he murmured, “I’m not going to last long.  Ginny nearly had me coming in her mouth.”

Hermione gasped as Harry sped his thrusts.  “Draco said he thought she’d practiced so she could deep-throat you.”

He twitched.  “And I’m sure Draco protested.”

Hermione did not answer.  Instead, she clutched his cock tightly with her inner muscles.  His fingers stroked her faster, but she did not succumb to her last orgasm until he bit the back of her neck, thereby dragging Harry over the edge with her.

Some time later, once the couples had discreetly cleansed themselves of the evening’s activities, they sat on the parlor floor to share a bottle of wine in front of a fire Kreacher started for them.

“So, boys,” Ginny began, grinning.  “When do we get to watch our Quidditch locker room fantasy?”

Both Draco and Harry blushed furiously, but Hermione began planning.