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Guess What's Under The Blue Bowl? by mia fitzpatrick
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Guess What's Under The Blue Bowl?

mia fitzpatrick

Hermione stole a quick glance at Harry's unconscious self. They were down at the infirmary and Madam Pomfrey, out of sheer madness, let her stay there to watch him. He had a slight case of fever and a really bad cold. Hermione wondered why he was completely naked, not that she was complaining, but she felt a bit uncomfortable that there was only a round blue bowl that was keeping her from knowing everything about Harry. She ripped her eyes away from her book once more to look at him. She had never seen him look better. Stop that, she thought, mentally kicking herself. In her seventeen years of life, she had never seen a naked man before, well, she did see that picture in a comparative anatomy book, but that didn't count, she reasoned to herself.

"Why a bowl?" she asked herself, "Couldn't it have been a blanket?" But then again, the bowl allowed ample view of Harry's smooth, flawless calves and thighs. Hermione flushed red at her own thoughts and she tried to will them away by reading more of Hogwarts' History. But the sight of Harry's not so tight Quidditch stomach was too much for even her, and soon enough she found her body moving against her will as it stood up and made its way to Harry's bedside. She sat on the bed, her back facing him. "Think of it as just reference," she tried to convince herself, "a scientific endeavor." Hermione took a deep breath as she shifted her body so she'd be facing Harry. She first checked if he was still asleep, and the even rise and fall of his chest told her that he was. Without removing her eyes from Harry's face, her hand made its way to the edge of the blue bowl, her fingers brushing slightly against the skin just below his navel. If she had not removed her eyes from his face at that moment, she would've noticed his lips twitch somewhat. She bit her lip as she removed the bowl covering the only thing Hermione didn't know about Harry.

"Wow Harry," Hermione echoed breathlessly. It definitely didn't look like the one in Figure 7.7 of "Comparative Anatomy" by Louis and Leithold. Her eyes were a virgin to the male body and she wondered if the male reproductive organ normally looked…engorged. Due to her immense fascination with little Harry which she thought wasn't so little, she did not notice another figure coming up behind her. A tall, lanky figure with hair red as fire.

"Hermione! What are you doing?!" Ron Weasley exclaimed at the sight of his naked best friend, and the other best friend who was responsible for this nakedness.

In her haste to get up, she dropped the bowl on the marble floors, making a wild, breaking noise that woke up the not-so-sleeping figure on the bed.

"I'm just studying," Hermione stammered helplessly, saying the first thing that came to her mind

"Yes, I can see that," Ron smirked. He found himself amused by his best friends' situation.

"What's going on here?" Harry asked, trying to erase the guilt from his voice.

"Hermione's studying," Ron explained in between snorts.

Hermione, who was red as beet couldn't think of any other way to get herself out of the situation, and so she gave them the most reliable of excuses, "I need to go to the library." She rushed past Ron and exited the room.

"Yes, Hermione, that is how it looks like, no need to check the library," Ron called after her, barely able to contain his chuckles.

"I can't believe she took a peek," Harry said, but this time, he didn't try to hide the sly smile on his face.

"Alright Harry, I know you're well endowed, no need to flaunt," Ron said rather awkwardly covering his eyes with his palms. He walked to the bed beside Harry's and grabbed a gray wool blanket which he threw at him.

Harry didn't respond and just got up and wrapped the blanket around his waist. He walked over to the edge of the bed and reached for his pajamas which were hanging over the eggshell colored railing. He seemed very restless and with the way his hands shook as he buttoned up his shirt, it was apparent he couldn't wait to do whatever it was he has set his mind on doing.

"Harry, what's the rush?" Ron asked cheerily as he flopped down the bed Harry was occupying just minutes before.

"Have to go find Hermione," he mumbled, not caring whether Ron understood or not, as he pulled one leg of his pajama bottoms up. He didn't even bother to look for his boxers.

"Oh come on Harry. She's not going anywhere; it's not as if she'll quit school after something as silly as that. And besides, you can't go and confess your feelings for her looking like that. She'll think you're a pervert." Ron chuckled as he pointed towards Harry's too small pajamas which weren't much help in hiding his still quivering member.

Harry ignored the insinuation and headed where Hermione had disappeared to. But before he could even reach for the door knob, Madam Pomfrey walked in holding a silver basin half filled with lukewarm water. She almost poured the contents of her basin on Harry's head in shock.

"What are you doing standing up? Go back to bed!" she cried in outrage. She practically shoved Harry back to his bed. "So much for taking care of patients," Harry thought irately. Ron voluntarily got out of the way.

"But I'm much better!" Harry protested as the nurse pushed him back down to lying position.

"No you are not, young man! Not until I say so!" she said indignantly as she began unbuttoning his pajamas.

"But I really need to go now! And when I say now, I mean at this very moment," he told her through gritted teeth.

But Madam Pomfrey was as determined as he was. "You will not be going until I'm certain that you've regained your health." Harry thrashed and whined but he couldn't sway her to let him go. Ron just watched on in amusement. Harry finally relented although he refused to be given a sponge bath.

It was four days before Madam Pomfrey became satisfied with Harry's health. In all those four days, not even Hermione's shadow was seen at the infirmary. He and Hermione rarely had spats and whenever they did, he felt awfully wretched afterwards when Hermione would refuse to talk to him for days. This was worse however. Not only was Hermione not seeing him while he was sick, and in effect not talking to him; it was the fact that Harry clearly had no idea why she wasn't. Hermione had always been the practical one, he was certain she would've gotten over the embarrassment by now. And it wasn't as if it was she who had her privacy intruded. This didn't sound right even in his head and he made a silent agreement with himself to not bring this up when he finally talks to her.

It was a quarter past three in the afternoon when Madam Pomfrey gave Harry permission to leave the infirmary and he thought it was completely unnecessary (not to mention stupid) to walk in Snape's class more than an hour late. He was back in his regular clothes. He managed to slightly grow into Dudley's old clothes. It wasn't a perfect fit but at least he didn't have to fold the sleeves of his shirt twenty times before he could see his hands. He now only had to fold them ten times.

He instead went to the library and explained Madam Pince that he was just released from the Infirmary and he felt it would be rude to walk in Professor Snape's class when there were but half an hour left of it. Madam Pince sniffed and gave him a knowing look. "You just don't want to come into Professor Snape's class because you know he'll be breathing fire down your back for it. And from what I've heard about your relationship with him, I'm sure he'd be mighty glad to throw in rocks dipped in hot magma just for you. Well, you did just recover from an illness; I suppose you could use a break. I'll let you go just this one time." And with that she let him in the library.

Harry walked past the desks and chairs and farther along the aisle of shelves, the smell of moist paper growing stronger. He finally turned down the twelfth row then stopped and sat right underneath Sexy Beasts: A Study of the Attraction Between Man and Beast. It wasn't accidental that Harry found himself sitting here; he knew for a fact that this was Hermione's favorite spot in the library. He once told her that the lighting here was impeccable as if the sun was in perfect coordination with this point. It didn't hurt, either, that it was very quiet and she could remain undisturbed for hours since rarely anyone goes to this section of the library. Probably because it was filled with books about interspecies relationships, Harry thought. Old wizarding folks are quite odd. Harry pulled out the pocket watch Sirius had given him on his fifteenth birthday. It was already four o'clock. Hermione was bound to turn up soon.

As if on cue, Hermione turned up from the corner carrying a stack of books topped with quills and parchments in her arms, up to her nose. She hadn't seen him. If she had she'd probably be running towards the other direction not caring if she dropped the books and damaged their collective spines (very un-Hermione-like). She continued to walk nearer and nearer Harry without actually noticing that he was there that he was beginning to think he had slipped under his invisibility cloak unintentionally.

Hermione knelt and set down her books (which were alphabetized, Harry noticed) on the floor and then carefully aligned her rolled parchments and quills by the shelf. She straightened the seat of her robe before sitting on her calves. She still had not seen Harry.

"Ahem," he coughed.

Hermione need not turn to recognize him. "Why hello---ahhh!" She was so caught in surprise that she fell backwards and hit her head on the shelf. It rocked back and forth as if threatening to topple over both of them at any minute, a book fell from the topmost shelf and just missed Hermione's nose by a millimeter before landing with a loud thud on her lap.

"Did I scare you?" he said with a sheepish grin.

Hermione stared at him with eyes that seem to be trying to catch up with her own thought before speaking. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you."

"Oh, well, you've seen me. I suppose you can leave now," she answered sounding nervous.

Harry looked affronted. "Aren't you even going to ask how I've been? You haven't come and seen me in the last four days I was in the infirmary."

She seemed speechless for a few moments but came up with a reply. "There was so much to do, I'm so sorry. I just didn't have the time."

"You always had time Hermione. At least for me. Well, I thought you did."

"Harry, please don't be such a baby."

"I'm not the one being a baby! Admit it, you're avoiding me! And it's because of that thing the other day!"

"Let's not talk about it," Hermione pleaded, her cheeks beginning to flush.

"Oh come on. We're both adults here. It's okay, you can just admit it. You like me." Harry said with a triumphant grin.

"What?!"

"That's why you took a peek. You have a crush on me."

"Excuse me! If I fancied you, which I don't, I wouldn't have taken a…peek. I would've snogged you or something."

"Are you saying you wanted to snog me?" Harry asked with a grin, placing his chin on his hands.

"No! What I'm saying is I was curious! Like in medical explorations!" Her pitch had climbed up, like what Crookshanks would sound like if you stepped on his tail.

"Are you saying you would've looked anyway if some other person was lying on that bed?" Harry tested her.

"Of course not!"

"So you were particularly curious about me and my, erm, equipment, then?"

"That's not what I'm saying! I was just more familiar with you."

"Would you have looked if it were Ron?"

"I refuse to answer that question."

"If Ron and I were lying next to each other, whose bowl would you lift?"

"Harry!"

"Well?" Harry taunted.

Hermione was now squeezing the hems of her robe so tightly her knuckles had turned white. But despite the fiery blush on her cheeks she managed to regain her composure (a tiny bit of it anyway).

"If you must know, I'll probably lift the one with the bigger bowl. And seeing that Ron is taller, I have to say," she faded with a cock of an eyebrow as if certain she had won this round.

Harry chuckled. "Well, you do know that even if Ron is taller, I have the bigger feet."

"I suppose that's true," she replied absent-mindedly. Her hand flew to her mouth when she heard Harry gasp and she realized what she had said. Harry's eyes widened as if to say "A-ha!" and soon he was grabbing his stitches, his laugh echoing down the aisle.

Hermione was horrified. Her knees were locked in position and it seemed she wouldn't be able to move from her place for a very long time. She was however able to pick up the book that fell on her lap earlier and throw it at Harry. It missed him, for the most part, just scratching his left ear. This sedated him nonetheless.

"What did you do that for?" Harry asked, rubbing his scathed ear.

"To shut you up," she answered, crossing her arms over her chest. "This is really embarassing for me, you know?"

Harry looked incredulous. "Embarassing for you?! I was the one who got...got...," he fished around for a word before finally coming up with something, "harrassed!"

Hermione snorted. "Harrassed?! Don't kid yourself Harry. You weren't harrassed. It was just me."

"I was too! You took advantage of me while I was unconscious and unable to defend myself." He did his best to suppress the amusement in his voice and it had to be said that he was succeeding.

"That's preposterous! You don't seriously believe that, do you?" Hermione exclaimed though the expression on her face was one of uncertainty.

"I do," he said, "in fact your intrusion of my privacy has caused me emotional distraught and many sleepless nights. I reckon there should be a settlement."

"What?!"

"Since you have looked at my private parts, I deem it only fair that I should get a look at yours."

"Are you insane?"

"An eye for an eye," he said, now smiling.

"And a boob for a penis?"

"I was thinking boobs actually."

Hermione would have fallen from her chair if she was sitting on one. "Oh you rat scoundrel! You don't actually think I'd fall for that?"

"It's not a trap, Hermione," he said with the utmost attempt at sincerity, "it's merely a way for us to, get even, so to speak. It's for the best you know. So we both could get over the embarassment." He grinned at her, almost innocently. Almost.

"You just want to take a look at my breasts," she said reproachfully.

"That's a given, Hermione. I'm a seventeen year-old randy male."

To Harry's (very good) surprise, Hermione's face looked as if she was actually considering the deal.

"Well, I suppose I did get something out of you, so you should be able to get something in return. It's only fair," she said lowly, biting her lip to hide an adventurous grin.

"Are you really truly agreeing with this or am I still under that fever?"

"Perhaps."

Harry choked on his own saliva. All he wanted to do was to taunt and tease her. He didn't ever consider the thought that Hermione would be swayed.

"Stop gulping, Harry. It's very unbecoming," she told him impatiently.

"Sorry, I'm just, well...curious," he said. He raised his glasses which had dropped to the very bridge of his nose. He hadn't realized he had been sweating so much.

"Like in medical explorations?" Hermione smiled.

Gulp. There it goes again.

"Well, before you I let you have a look, I think we should discuss first how much you should see and for how long. Especially with you being so formal and judicial about it," she continued, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

"I'd be amiable with whatever you give me," he said, unable to stop his head from nodding the whole while. This caused his glasses to fall to the very tip of his nose.

Hermione leaned over and pushed it back up for him, obviously enjoying the sudden reverse of power. She smiled slowly, as if leading Harry's eyes to the very corners of her lips.

"Right then. Perhaps five seconds to look at my bare breasts is enough?"

"Make it thirty."

"Ten or you get nothing."

Harry thought (he wasn't sure how he was still capable of thinking). "Does that include the time it takes for you to take off you shirt and other things?"

Hermione ruminated on it for a moment. "Hmmm, no. No, I suppose not."

"Good then," he said so lowly it was almost a whisper.

"Then we have a deal," she said, grinning like a mad cat. She held out her hand for Harry's to shake. His palms were cold and sweaty and this made Hermione giggle.

Harry smiled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "So how does this---oh okay."

He watched as Hermione untied the lace of her robes revealing her plain white school blouse. The hairs on his nape stood on end. She unbuttoned them one by one, all the while looking at him. Always looking at him. Harry took another gulp when he saw her breasts peeking from above her white lace brassiere. They looked lovely indeed, the way they curved so smoothly like white chocolate kisses, and how the shadow tempted him down the very middle of her breasts.

He could tell that she was breathing heavily now, with her breasts heaving up and down rapidly. "That's it Hermione, breathe, breathe," he thought, "whoever knew breathing could be so inspiring to watch?" Hermione's hand travelled to the front clasp of her bra, unhooking it swiftly. The large bead of sweat on Harry's temple was threatening to fall.

"One, Two..."

The sweat slid from his temple down to his neck.

"Five, Six..."

Down the collar of his robes.

"Eight, Nine..."

He could feel it tingle his spine. A nice soft tingle, the kind you get when you know Christmas is coming soon.

"Ten. That's it Harry, we're even."

"Wait, I wasn't ready. I didn't get a good look," Harry protested but Hermione had already buttoned up her blouse.

"I think I'll find another place to study. I'm sure there are free desks in the common room." Hermione got up and gathered her things easily.

Harry made more feeble protests (mostly made of "But" "Wait" "Um" and "Argh") but she was already on her feet. She walked down towards the end of the shelf. Harry buried his very pink face in his hands.

But before she disappeared round the corner, she looked behind her shoulders to him and said, "If you really want to have more Harry, you should really give me more first. I thought you'd have figured that out by now."

Harry turned up to look at her but she was already gone. A smile crawled upon his lips. He chided himself. "Well what're you waiting for stupid?" he said to himself, sprinting after her.

(A/N: Inspired by that scene in `Far and Away' If you've seen the movie, you know which one I'm talking about *g* Very few of you may recognize this because I finished half of it about a year ago and only was able to finish it now. Unbetad, all mistakes are mine. Might upload betad version later. Not sure if a smutty sequel will be done. Beg and I might, LOL. Enjoy )