Authors Note: I have chosen to kill three birds with one stone, mostly because I am working on an increasingly short deadline and basically because I can. So first, Happy Birthday Lana! (belated as it may be). Second, this is my 2009 Christmas fic (you know I can't resist a holiday). And third, this is my entry for the December Challenge on the Twin Exchange. Enjoy!

The Plant of Lowered Inhibitions

"Is it yours?"

"Is what mine?"

"That."

"What?"

"That."

"What?"

"Just look at it."

"Not right now, Sirius."

"It's not a hard question, Hermione,"

"I'm busy, whatever it is, it can wait till later" Hermione sighed with exasperation, burying her head back into her lesson plans, trying to ignore the blush that crept up her cheeks, a reaction that seemed to happen every time he said her name.

"Just look at it, or he will never let you be," Remus said from behind her.

She startled at the sound of his voice, her blush growing even deeper. Turning around she caught the older man leaning against the door frame, taking in the scene with an amused smile.

Ever since she had agreed to take up her holiday residence at Grimmauld Place with Sirius and Remus she never expected to find herself attracted to both men. But three years at Hogwarts, and every holiday spent in the once proud pureblood home, had shown her just why the Marauders had had such a reputation in their day.

Sirius exuded sex appeal - his preferences toward leather and his almost subconscious tendency to flirt with anything remotely female, had at first irritated her and had caused her to believe that he was nothing but a middle aged man desperate to recapture his stolen youth. However her time spent with him when he was being himself in his own home, had shown her that he was smart, funny and had a natural confidence that she struggled to find in herself.

Remus on the other hand had slowly wormed him way into her fantasies. His gentle mannerisms and overall kindness appealed to her inner romantic. But it was the animalistic side of him, which appeared only once a month, that also had her melting on the inside. The fact that such a brilliant, intelligent and witty man could also make her heart thud with the thoughts of him ravishing her in a fit of passion just plain did it for her.

As Hogwarts had approached the Christmas Holidays she had seriously considered splurging and renting the apartment that everyone agreed would be a waste of space and money, just to avoid making a fool of herself. But her inner voice told her that it would be a cowardly act indeed to hide from her fantasies – fantasies she was sure many women had had about the two men before – and that it was only for a few weeks.

She gave a deep sigh and turned back to Sirius, who was looking at her expectantly. She would never admit out loud just what that look did to her insides.

"Okay, what am I looking at?" she asked, closing her book and setting her favourite quill down. It was proving to be impossible to get any work done on Christmas Eve anyway.

"That," Sirius said, pointing to the garish orange pot perched on one of the empty counters of Grimmauld Place's dingy basement kitchen. The pot held an equally fluorescent plant, its flowers so pink it seemed to glow even in the dim overhead light.

"Ah, very nice," she said slowly, looking from the plant to Sirius's expectant face.

"Is it Hermione?" he demanded, "Is it very nice?"

"What?" she asked, looking back to the flower again as if it were about to sprout fangs.

"Shouldn't you be telling me that? It's your plant after all," she said, completely lost.

"No it's not, I found it. I thought it was yours," Sirius said.

"Nope, sorry," Hermione shrugged.

"Remus?" Sirius asked, his friend wandering into the room.

"Not mine either. I wonder how it got here," he mused, walking around the table toward the object in question.

"I found it on the doorstep," Sirius answered, "It looked cold, so I bought it inside."

"Maybe someone left it as a gift," Remus said, looking around the pot for a card but finding nothing.

"Or maybe it's something that should have stayed on the doorstep. Didn't Moody teach either of you anything?" Hermione asked, staring at the plant and studiously avoiding looking at Remus's arse and the way his trousers seemed to be made for him as she warily came around the table.

"I remember him mumbling something about constant… constant…" Sirius muttered vaguely staring up at the ceiling.

"Vigilance?" Remus supplied, chuckling at his friends antics.

"Yeah! That's it," he said.

Hermione glared at him and came to stop near the plant, her wand already in her hand.

"So what do you think Miss Charms Mistress? Should we throw it back out into the snow?"

"Shouldn't you be asking the ex-DADA professor that?" she asked, staring between the men and fighting another blush as they both turned their full attention to her.

"I was never all that good with Herbology," Remus admitted, standing close to her now as they stared down at the plant. She took a deep breath, the faint scent of his cologne making her shiver a little.

"I was, but I don't recognise the species," Hermione said, her voice a little choked as she tried to suppress just what the werewolf's close presence was doing to her.

"Maybe it's just a Muggle plant," Sirius suggested, leaning back against the counter, staring at his two housemates expectantly.

"It's possible, but unlikely. Muggle plants don't glow like this," Hermione reasoned, and as if the plant heard her, it gave a faint pulsing light, making that whole side of the kitchen glow pink.

"Definitely not Muggle," Remus agreed, leaning in closer like a bug attracted to the light. His reached out one faintly scarred hand, his fingers brushing against one of the oversized green leaves.

"Careful," Hermione warned, remembering the stings, burns and near poisonings she had seen in the hospital wing, not only when Harry and Ron had been at Hogwarts, but in recent years with her own careless students.

"It's soft, so soft," Remus said faintly, staring at the now pulsing plant.

"Moony?" Sirius asked, frowning as he pulled away from the bench, taking a step toward his entranced friend.

"Soft," the other man repeated, rubbing the leaf between his thumb and forefinger.

"Remus, are you okay?" Hermione asked, leaning in closer, her hand hovering just over his wrist, her eyes locked on his face which had gone uncharacteristically slack as he stared down at the play of his long fingers on the bizarre foliage.

"Rem-" Hermione started to repeat, grabbing his wrist, her fingers brushing against the leaf clutched in his fingers.

The plant pulsed even lighter, and she found herself completely forgetting why she was standing there, all she could think about was the feel of the leaf beneath her finger, and above that, the slightly marred skin of Remus Lupin.

As if he felt it too, that inexplicable pull, Remus turned to look at her, his face glowing in the fluorescent pink light. He bought his other hand to cup her cheek, as if comparing the texture of her skin to the plant, he sighed deeply when she turned into the warmth of his touch. It seemed only natural when her lips pressed into his palm, tasting the slight saltiness of his skin and something uniquely him.

Remus made a small noise in the back of his throat and tipped her face again, turning her chin up toward him as he lowered his lips to hers. The world vanished as those firm lips pressed against her soft ones, their breaths mingling amidst the strange pink light.

Unable to form words for what she was feeling, Hermione moaned as he pulled her tight into his body. She felt the hidden musculature of his chest and abs beneath her hand; she felt his heart pounding out of control as his head tilted into hers and the kiss became impossibly deep.

He tongue explored her mouth, his lips pressing so hard against her she was sure to bruise. Holding on to him, she ran her hands up his chest until her fingers could tangle with his thick hair. She let out a shuddering sigh when his fingers found the hem of her pale pink shirt, the long digits curving up her waist, exposing her stomach to the wintry air that seemed to permeate every corner of the ancient kitchen.

Hermione wanted to jump into his arms, to wrap every inch of herself around his much bigger frame. She wanted him to hold her close and take her there, on the kitchen table - hell on the floor if they couldn't make it that far. Never in her entire life had she felt such need, such desperate want for one individual.

As if he felt it too, he pressed her close, his hands dropping from her waist to cup her round behind. She moaned, desperately writhing against him until he seemed to know what she wanted. His strong hands dropped even further until he cupped the backs of her thighs and with the slightest pressure he had her in his arms, her legs wrapped around him and that aching part of her pressed against the hard outline of his growing arousal.

She moaned, feeling lightheaded and so aroused even her clothes were setting small wild fires across her skin. She needed him soon, now. Her fingers desperately tugged at his collared shirt, buttons popping under the force of her pulling, but all she could think about was touching him with her hand, her lips, her…

Her desperate thoughts were abruptly cut off, as near violent hands ripped her from the man who could give her such intense pleasure. She kicked, she screamed, she tried to turn her head to bite into one of the arms that pulled her so insistently but the only way to do that was to let go of Remus.

The moment her arms fell from the older man, the desperate need was gone. She was left panting, staring wide eyed at the man who had been nothing but her friend and occasional mentor. The look in his eyes was confused, but no longer dazed. His shirt hung around his chest in tatters, newer marks decorated his exposed flesh and she knew her nails had done that to him.

"Remus," she whispered, horror and humiliation sweeping the last remnants of lust from her cobwebbed brain, the true extent of what had occurred dawning on her.

Remus shook his head and looked away from her, but she didn't miss the look in his eyes, the look that told her that things between them had changed. Her heart sank when the werewolf took a step back, then another, before leaving the kitchen. It wasn't quite running, be he may as well have been for all the speed he made to get away.

Hermione took a step forward, her arm reaching out to stop him, but Sirius's arms gripped her tighter.

"Don't Hermione, let him go," the older man rumbled in her ear. His voice, slightly breathless, but sorrowful nonetheless, stopped her from chasing after his friend and apologizing. Apologizing for what, she still wasn't sure exactly.

"That plant needs to be destroyed," she said, finally pulling away from Sirius's restraining hands, taking a step toward the plant, which had gone dull in colour.

"I'll throw it in the fire," Sirius said, reaching for the garish orange pot with both hands.

"Wait!" Hermione stopped him.

"What?" He asked, staring at her like she had grown a second head.

"We have no idea what kind of plant it is. It may not be as simple as throwing it in a fire," she explained.

"So what do you suggest we do then, Professor?" he asked, his words sounding sarcastic, but Hermione knew this was just a reaction to being told he had been about to make a mistake.

"Give it to me, I'll find out what it is, and then we'll destroy it. Whoever sent this as a Christmas present either thinks they are very funny, or very cruel."

"Some joke," Sirius mumbled.

"I don't think Remus is laughing," Hermione replied while grabbing a tea-towel and carrying the plant from the kitchen, careful not to touch it on her way to the library.

"Hey Hermione, I bought the list of stuff Mum wants you to bring to Christmas dinner tomorrow," Ginny bright voice rung throughout the library as she entered.

Hermione looked up from the pink plant that she had been staring at for the last hour, her hands quickly going to her eyes to rub away the ridiculous tears that seemed to have come from nowhere.

"Hey Gin," she greeted, her voice thick and giving her away.

"What's wrong?" Ginny asked, dropping her bag and parchment on the nearest chair and rushed over to her friend.

"Nothing, really. Just nothing," Hermione said, pushing back from the desk, but her friend was too fast, engulfing her from behind in an effort to be comforting. All it made Hermione do was cry harder.

"Tell me what's wrong 'Mione, is it because your single for another Christmas?" Ginny asked in a gentle voice.

The comment started Hermione so much she pulled away from her friend abruptly, "What? No!"

"You know, it's been a while..." Ginny continued, not seeming embarrassed in the least.

"Ginny, I am not crying because I am single," Hermione stated firmly, settling against the desk, folding her arms across her chest and giving her friend her best glare.

"Oh, really. Because well..." the red-headed woman began.

"I don't want to hear it. Just because you are blissfully in lust does not mean the rest of us have to be."

"Don't you mean love?"

"I meant what I said. But that's not why I was crying. Just let it go, please," Hermione begged.

Maybe it was the please that made Ginny pause for a moment, but it didn't take her long to recover enough to say, "So if your spinsterhood isn't what's bothering you, then what is?"

"I- it's just..." Hermione faltered, wondering if she should confess just how much the morning events in the kitchen had affected her.

"Yes?" Ginny prompted, before her eyes slid to the now pulsing plant at Hermione's hip, "Oooh, pretty," she practically cooed.

"Don't touch it!" Hermione almost screamed when the younger woman's hand reached out, much like Remus's had earlier.

Ginny frowned, her gaze fixed on the orange pot with its fluorescent pink flowers. Hermione leaned over and snapped her fingers twice in front of her face, relieved when she blinked, shook her head and turned to look back at her.

"What is that?" Ginny asked, now looking at the plant like it was a weed and something to be gotten rid of.

"I'm not sure, some kind of lust plant. Sirius rescued it from the cold this morning," Hermione said, moving her hip away from the pot a little bit more, not liking the pulsing one little bit.

"A gift? But how do you know it's a lust.... Oooh," Ginny suddenly said, as if something had dawned on her.

"What?" Hermione asked, not liking the look on her friends face at all.

"That's why you're crying. You had sex with Sirius," Ginny said, nodding and grinning like it was Christmas Day and Harry had just proposed.

"What?! No, that's not what happened... it was Remus and..."

"You had sex with Remus?" Ginny gasped, her eyes widening almost comically.

Hermione groaned and dropped her head into her hands, speaking into her ink-stained palms, "I didn't have sex with anyone," she said, he voice coming out muffled.

"Oh," the tone was clearly disappointed, then, "And why not?"

"What do you mean, why not?" Hermione asked, not liking where the conversation was going.

"I mean, they are both hot, virile older men; the fantasy material of the majority of females at Hogwarts. You're living with them and you aren't exactly an ageing crone – I mean you're practically the hottest thing to step out of Gryffindor Tower according to Charlie… mind you he does spend most of his time around dragons and not women so anything…"

"Ah thanks… I think," Hermione interrupted, a slight flush colouring her cheeks at the thought of Charlie Weasley thinking she was hot, even if that was compared to a reptile, "But just because they are both good looking and because I'm not a wilting lily doesn't mean we should be sleeping together."

"Sure it does, if you all want to jump each others bones," the red-head said, her lips quirking.

"That's not true," Hermione scoffed, her blush intensifying as her earlier lustful thoughts about both men came back to haunt her.

"Of course it is. We've all seen the way you all look at each other. I'm surprised it's taken three years and a plant to get you to do something about it."

"I didn't have sex with them. I mean it was a kiss, and he left pretty quickly after Sirius pulled us apart," Hermione blurted out.

"Why did he leave?" Ginny asked, frowning.

"I don't know, I suppose in disgust really. I practically threw myself at him," she confessed, feeling the tears well up again.

"But you were under the influence of the plant right, it wasn't your fault," Ginny soothed.

"I would have agreed with you, until I started reading up on lust plants a bit more. The effects can be pretty mild with most species if the people involved have no attraction to each other. He probably knows this, and now he's realized that I don't just see him as a friend. He'll never speak to me again."

"You can't know that. Maybe he was embarrassed."

"Or maybe I ruined everything."

"How can you say that like any of this was your fault? It was a kiss for Merlin's sake - a good old fashioned snog between friends. Think of it as an early Christmas present."

Hermione snorted, but a smile finally cracked her sorrowful exterior, "He'll probably act like nothing happened."

"So? Let him do what he wants. You got to snog Remus Lupin, how many of us get to say that?" Ginny asked, grinning as she went to her bag, "Now, I filched some of the cherries Mum was saving for tomorrow, I know how much you like them," she said, pulling a box of Hermione's favourite fruits out.

Suddenly the morning seemed a little bit brighter.

Hermione stepped into the downstairs parlour, the lust plant clutched to her chest, her hands protected by a pair of festive oven mitts. She smiled when she caught sight of the man she was after, taking in everything from his relaxed boredom to his casual yet sinfully delicious clothing choices.

Sirius sat draped over a burgundy armchair, the tiny fairy lights from the Christmas tree winking in the room, giving everything a soft glow. He had his legs thrown over one arm, and his head flung back over the other, his hand bouncing idly with a piece of tinsel that Crookshanks seemed determined to capture.

"I've been looking for you," she said, placing the orange pot on the mantle piece that was draped with the same green and red tinsel that Sirius held in his hand.

"You've found me," he replied, grinning and sitting up when she walked in. Crookshanks took his opportunity to swipe the tinsel the animagus had been teasing him with, and made for the door in a blur of orange.

"That'll keep him entertained for hours," she grinned, taking off the oven mitts and watching the bottle brush tail disappear into the hallway and finally out of sight.

"What can I do for you love?" Sirius asked, sitting up straighter in the chair.

Hermione watched the eager light enter his eyes and wondered if he felt as excited to be in the same room with her as she was to be with him. Despite the mornings humiliating events she still couldn't suppress the tightness in her belly when one of the objects of her desire looked so interested to have her there.

That feeling reminded her instantly of Remus, and was followed by a pang of irrational guilt.

"Have you see Remus?" she asked, licking her lips and turning away from him, unable to look at his face.

"Yes," Sirius answered slowly, carefully, "He's upstairs brooding."

Hermione's breath hitched and she tried to fight off the horrible wave of self-loathing. It was only around men that she doubted herself, her sexuality, her appeal to the opposite sex. Remus's blatant rejection of her unintentional advances cut her deeper than she would admit out loud.

"Oh," she whispered, studying the faint swirls of the orange pot, resisting the urge to reach out and trace them with her finger.

"He blames himself you know. Which I told him was ridiculous..."

"It is, it was my fault," Hermione interrupted.

Sirius snorted behind her, "Not you too," he said, sounding as exasperated as she felt with the puzzle of the plant.

"I-it's just. He must know now," she faltered, her voice dropping back to a whisper as she felt like she was confessing her deepest darkest secret.

"Must know what?" Sirius asked, his voice sounding closer making her glance quickly over her shoulder and finding him standing. The sight of him standing there, staring at her so intently, his hair falling like a shining curtain to frame his face, made her heart skip another beat and her face bloom in yet another blush.

"How much I want you... him," she breathed. Her eyes widened as she stared at her hand, now gripping the orange pot. She began to pray that he hadn't caught her slip up.

Sirius remained quiet behind her for a long minute and she knew he had heard her. She waited for the telltale sound of him leaving, but only the quite crackling of flames in the grate and Crookshank's enthusiastic play in the hall could be heard.

"I'm sorry," she finally said, shaking her head at her own stupidity and spinning on her heel to leave before she further embarrassed herself. She was sure nobody would be too put out if she just returned to Hogwarts for Christmas.

Sirius hand on her shoulder stopped her instantly, her body falling still as she blinked back hot tears of humiliation. This wasn't how she ever imagined things panning out between her and the two marauders, infact for a long time she had just ignored the attraction and hoped they never noticed the way she watched them. Now they knew and it was all going wrong.

"I'm not. Did you mean it?" Sirius asked, his mouth close to her ear as he pressed his whole body against the back of hers, his hand sliding down her bicep toward her elbow.

She took a shuddering breath, closing her eyes. She wondered if it was just her imagination, or if that really was need and want she heard in his voice, felt in the quiet tension of his body.

"Yes." she confessed, barely a breath, but he heard.

His hand kept sliding down her arm, caressing her wrist with his thumb for a moment before his hand clasped over hers. They were so close to touching the plant that she knew with just the tiniest movement they could be consumed by the passion she had felt earlier. She watched their fingers entwine, the pink glow intensifying above them, and knew that he was aware of it too.

The first touch of his lips against her neck bought a soft gasp from her. His body pressed tighter as he explored the exposed flesh with his whole mouth until she felt herself swaying against him and turning in his arms.

"Sirius," she breathed, one arm entwining under his hair and around his neck, the other hand turning in his so that their palms were pressed firmly together.

His grip tightened on her waist as he pulled her closer still, his mouth swooping down to explore the tops of her breasts, up her neck, along her jaw and finally teasing the corner of her mouth.

She sighed and turned into him, pressing her mouth against his hard and revelling in the smooth feel of his lips, the slight stubble of his cheeks and jaw and the very masculine groan that rumbled his chest when her tongue darted out to taste him.

The kiss intensified, their bodies curling around each other, their moans growing louder as the room grew hotter. Sirius's hands coaxed her forward as he moved back into the armchair he had been previously occupying. He dropped down heavily, using his grip on her waist and hand to pull her down to straddle his lap, his mouth still attached to hers.

Hermione could feel the hard press of his denim clad arousal against her thin cotton pants. She pulled her mouth from his with a gasp, thrusting her hips against his as he pulled down her top, the cup of her bra yielding to his almost aggressive force, and latched on to one pert dusky nipple.

"Oh god, yes," she cried, her voice husky with arousal, her fingers rising to grip his hair, tugging when he grazed her with his teeth.

Everything was going so quickly and her body was already lost to the waves of lust that seemed to be consuming her that she didn't hear the houses only other occupant enter the room. Neither did Sirius apparently because he looked up sharply when a fist gripped her hair and pulled her head backward, making her upper body arch.

Remus stared down at her, his eyes a blaze with amber fire, his face a mixture of anger, embarrassment and over all lust.

"Remus," she said, fighting to regain control of her senses, her traitorous body bucking against the man beneath her when it realized she was sandwiched between the two objects of her desire.

"Don't make me pull you off him," the werewolf growled.

"I don't want you to," she gasped when he tugged harder. Sirius had stopped moving in front of her, staring at his friend too.

"You've both stupidly touched the plant, you don't want to be doing this," Remus said, his voice calm, his teeth clenched tightly together.

"Not true Moony, we didn't touch it," Sirius said to his friend. In that moment Hermione wished she could have seen the look on his face, understood just what was passing between the two friends.

"Then…" Remus questioned, his gaze flicking to Hermione where she stared up at him, her neck at an angle that was starting to get uncomfortable.

"She wants us mate, both of us," Sirius breathed.

Remus's hands dropped from her almost instantly and she felt him take a step back, "No she doesn't. It's the plant," he was saying, shaking his head and backing up another step.

Hermione licked her lips nervously, realizing that while highly aroused, now was the appropriate time, if it there could ever be one, to make her confession.

"Remus," she said, pulling off of Sirius's lap awkwardly, tugging ineffectually at her top and realizing it was a useless endeavour unless she took the whole thing off and put it on again.

"What?" he said, sounding sullen.

"Remus, look at me," she said, when he continued to stare at anything but his friends.

His gaze slowly turned back to her, the faint flush of arousal and anger making his face red, but he gazed at her defiantly, letting her see how much he truly believed she was under the influence of a spell.

"We didn't touch the plant, I want Sirius to touch me, kiss me like he was. I want you to as well," she breathed, feeling like she was about to commit the ultimate sin. Nice girls didn't admit to wanting threesomes – at least that's what she kept telling herself.

"I'm sorry about what happened in the kitchen, it was an accident. But you only think you want me," Remus said, watching behind her as Sirius stood up. Hermione felt his arms wrap around her a moment later, his head came to rest on her shoulder; her breasts were thrust forward on display by his folded arms. She knew the pose was deliberate.

"I know I want you, I've wanted you for as long as I can remember," she whispered, holding out her hand.

"You never said anything," he mumbled, ignoring her offer, his body still turned to leave.

"Of course I didn't, because it wasn't just you that made my heart pound. It was both of you, and what woman in their right mind confesses to something like that. But Remus, one day, somehow, I would have found the courage to kiss you like I did this morning. The plant just moved things on a little more quickly than expected."

Remus seemed to consider her words for a long time, while Sirius remained wrapped around her, his fingers making her shiver with each breath.

"And if I leave now?" he finally asked, staring at her and then Sirius.

"Then I'll know you don't feel the same, and I'm sorry."

The man in front of them fell into another contemplative silence, his hands convulsing lightly at his sides, his forehead marring as he thought hard.

"Sirius?" he finally asked.

Sirius seemed to know what he wanted, "Look at her," he said, kissing the side of her neck, squeezing her torso lightly, "she's serious mate, she wants me, you, us."

Remus switched his gaze between the two people he cared for most in the world and finally took a step toward them.

"It's true?" he asked, glancing at the glowing pink plant before staring at Hermione.

"I want it all, please," she breathed, her hand finally closing around his.

She pulled him toward her, her lips seeking his for the second time that day, her moan echoing in the room when his woollen jumper brushed against her bared breasts. Sirius's hands ran up and down her sides, his calloused palms causing a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold.

Hermione became lost to the sounds and the feel of the two men around her, every one of her fantasies seemed to be playing out in real life and her normally sharp mind was slowly melting into overdrive with each new sensation.

Sirius back them up again, this time settling her on his lap, his hands tugging at her clothing, fully baring her upper half to the warm room. Remus's hands took the tangled cloth from his friend, throwing it behind them as he leant over to reclaim her lips, his hands braced on the arms of the chair.

She gave a shuddering groan when Sirius wandering hands became even more insistent, kneading and shaping her breasts while he did amazing things to the sensitive skin at the back of her neck.

Remus gradually pulled away from her mouth, standing up straight to stare down at her, his chest rising and falling with everyone of his laboured breaths. She watched as he reached into his pocket and took out his wand, biting her lips when Sirius tweaked her nipples just as their clothes vanished with a practiced flick of the werewolf's wrist.

The feel of bare skin on skin had her back bowing with a cry of pleasure. When Sirius's hands urged her to lean forward she opened her eyes again and found Remus standing there waiting for her. She stared at his impressive arousal, which sat at eye level. Flicking her eyes up to his face she found him staring at her with an almost feral lust.

With Sirius supporting her weight, making sure she didn't tip forward, she reached out with both hands to grip the straining muscle, licking her lips as she felt the impressive length, like silk over steel. Remus threw his head back, panting as she manipulated him first with touch and then with her mouth.

Sirius, not to be forgotten, took advantage of the angle she was at, his fingers searching lower and lower, until he found her wet core. Hermione cried out as his fingers found her throbbing centre, his touch creating an ache so desperate in her that she struggled to concentrate on the man in front, while the man behind stole her senses.

Remus's hands in her hair bought him back to her attention, and she slipped her mouth lower over him, her tongue circling the sensitive head, making his fingers flex and his hips to thrust forward.

She felt a deep throb between her legs when the two men moved in tandem, Remus thrusting again as Sirius gripped her hips, moving her enough to settle his hard length against her intimately. Hermione found herself gripping Remus's thighs, pulling her mouth away to breath as Sirius surged up under her, filling her with every solid inch of his impressive cock.

Crying out, she let the two men bring her unbelievable pleasure, manipulating her body into a position they were all comfortable with, hands and mouths roaming until the room was once again filled with a cacophony of orgasmic sound.

Hermione felt that deep part inside her begin to tighten, heat spreading across her limbs and through her stomach down to where Sirius thrust into her, hitting that delicious spot every time. She cried out around Remus - who guided her ministrations with his hands, finding his own pleasure above her – the sound vibrating down his length, causing them both to shiver as the ultimate release approached the trio.

Sirius was the first to cry out, her inner muscles clamping down so hard on him that his orgasm was swift, taking him over until he thrust blindly into the witch above him. The feel of his shattering release triggered that ache to throb again, and it was as Remus bent back, changing the angle so that she was forced to swallow more of him than before that she found her own climax. Remus followed her moments later, and she gripped his thighs as he held her tightly to him.

Sirius finally collapsed behind her, his body slumped low in the chair, hands lazily tugging her body until she fit back against him, unfurling her legs until they dangled along side his. Remus collapsed to his knees, his body as drained as there as he rested his chin on her inner thigh, kissing the sensitized flesh with deep affection.

She smiled down at him and snuggled deeper into the solid embrace behind her. Idly, she wondered just when the delicious dream would end.

"Interesting," Sirius said after several long minutes of exhausted, yet companionable silence.

"What?" she asked lazily, lifting one of his hands which had been resting against her stomach, kissing his knuckles.

"The plant, it's dead," he said, making both Hermione and Remus stare over at the mantelpiece. Sure enough, the once vibrant plant was brown and wilted, making the pot stand out even worse.

"I suppose…" she said, studying the plant from a distance, still unable to get up, "I suppose it did what it was suppose to do."

"How so?" Remus asked, finding the strength she hadn't gained and pulling himself up to stand, walking over to the pot and cautiously lifting it down.

"It was obviously grown to lower inhibitions, but all my research indicated that there had to be a sexual attraction for it to have any effect at all. Who ever left it at our doorstep obviously thought it was about time one of us did something about the sexual tension in this house," she said, a smile forming as she felt Sirius snuggle her against him more deeply, Remus coming back to sit at her feet again.

She watched as a frown formed on Remus's face again and had a sudden pang worry, "Remus, you don't regret…" she started to ask, but was surprised when his stopped her with a shake of his head, his hand feeling along the bottom of the pot, his concentration not on her doubts, but by some new discovery.

'What is it?" Sirius asked, sitting up, and moving them both forward to look.

Remus produced a piece of paper that had been charmed to sit at the bottom. Opening the carefully folded note, his frown turned into a scowl.

"Show me," Hermione said, snatching the note out of his hand, Sirius's chin came to rest on her shoulder, reading along.

The note was written on personalized stationary, and the moment she saw the blazing WWW emblem at the top she knew exactly who was responsible for leaving the plant on their door step.

"To our dear friends," she read aloud, her teeth almost audible as she ground them together, "Thank you for testing out our latest experiment. Consider it not only your present to us, but our present to you. Merry Christmas."

"Signed, Fred and George Weasley," Sirius finished for her, but instead of the anger she had expected, she heard and felt his laughter.

"I can't believe you find this funny," she said incredulously, turning as much as she could to stare at him wide eyed.

"He has a point actually, it is kind of funny. I mean, Fred and George do have a way of bringing people together and getting what they want," Remus's chuckle had her spinning back to stare at him.

"They manipulated us! They used us! They…"

"… Brought us together. Personally, I think we should be thanking them," Sirius said, pulling her stiff body back down to his, sighing with contentment.

Hermione huffed, but settled back down. Remus, deciding she wasn't going to lash out again, placed the dead plant on the ground beside him and settled back down between her thighs. They each fell into another long silence, happy to be in each others company, enjoying the faint twinkling of the lights on the Christmas tree.

Hermione's light chuckle broke the silence a few minutes later, causing both men to pull back and stare at her warily, she grinned and gently stroked Remus's hair and Sirius arm.

"You know, I think you are right. I wonder if a bottle of Ogden's would be sufficient thanks," she said, turning her head to look at Sirius in question.

"I'll have a look later to see if I can find something good in the liquor cabinet," he answered, kissing her cheek.

"We can go and look now," she said, trying to pull herself up, but found herself bound to him tighter than before.

"No, I think later will be fine," Remus answered, turning to kneel between her thighs, grinning up at her.

"Oh?" she asked, shivering when his hands run up her legs.

"Definitely later," Sirius rumbled in her ear, his large palms coming up to caress her breasts.

It was several hours later before they went looking for a suitable present, and many hours after that that they worked up to wrapping it.

It was a very Merry Christmas indeed.

Thanks for reading, Merry Christmas!