This by msscribe

Rating: NC17
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 4
Published: 26/01/2003
Last Updated: 26/01/2003
Status: Completed

Something's in the air...




1. This
-------

**This** by msscribe

**Disclaimer: No profits are being made off the fiction on these pages. Harry Potter,
associated characters and the associated Harry Potter universe is © J. K. Rowling and respective
publishers. Fanfiction is fiction—it’s not meant to be taken seriously in the least.**
#

When I rounded the corner to Harry and Ron’s room for about the billionth time in my life,
nothing was different.

*Absolutely nothing at all.*

Ron was sitting on his bed, pretending to study, but really listening to the Muggle CD player
Harry and I had gotten him last Christmas, and Harry was pacing the room trying to figure out
exactly what he’d done wrong on his potions assignment. His potion was supposed to have turned
purple, but instead it grew hair and had turned a dark gray.

That’s where I came in of course. Let’s just say they liked to leave the books to me.

“Looks like your Mandrake root has aged too much,” I said almost as soon as I’d entered the
messy room, “I’ve seen it happen like that before.”

Ron acknowledged my presence with his timeless *Hermione thinks she knows it all*
smirk.

“Thanks,” Harry said with his most genuine smile, “I knew you’d know right away.”

I smiled back and took my usual place at Harry’s desk, brushing his books aside and tossing a
couple of my own among the pile. Harry’s desk was messy, but unlike Ron’s, you could at least find
it.

“Would it hurt you to cast a simple cleaning spell around here now and then?” I asked them,
spotting a half eaten chocolate frog that looked as if it were about to sprout young.

“Yes,” Ron said, “Because it would leave you nothing to complain about.”

I threw my notepad at him and he threw his hands up. Seeing my “drop dead” glare, Ron picked up
my notes and handed them to me planting a kiss on my cheek.

“C’mon Hermione…you know we love you.”

*Ron. How on earth could I possibly stay mad at Ron?*

“Hmmm, I guess I’ll have to take your word for it.”

Ron dug into the heap where his desk once stood and came up with a transfiguration book. He was
going to study. I was genuinely surprised. When he reached for his coat, I was even more
surprised.

So was Harry.

“Where are you going?” Harry asked, before I could even form the words.

Ron smiled, winking at Harry, then flushing when he looked at me.

“Don’t you remember? Lavender and I are working on a transfiguration project together.”

I tilted my head towards him, thinking about the true motives behind this “study” session.

“Well, since it looks like your making an attempt to study, I expect to see your marks go up
this next term,” I said sounding an awful lot like Mrs. Weasley.

Ron noticed. “Well mum, if you haven’t got anymore to add, I’d better get going then.”

Ron winked at me, and then he left. And what instantly replaced him was….
t*his*…it…what…something that seemed to creep into the air whenever Harry and I were left
alone these days.

*This*. I had spent a lot of time lately thinking about what *this* was. It made
sense, especially since we were seventeen now and puberty had come and gone for Harry leaving
behind messy things like hormones, strong muscular arms, and a deepened voice that changed the way
I breathed when I wasn’t expecting him to speak. I supposed I had changed quite a bit too, but if
they noticed, they certainly didn’t say anything.

“So you think all I need is younger Mandrake root?” is what Harry said.

“Yep. I think that’s all you need,” I answered casually.

I was fairly adept at pretending that I didn’t feel *this*, but it wasn’t easy. For the
next half hour I was mostly quiet, avoiding any in depth conversation for fear that *this*
would rear it’s uncomfortable head and cause those prickly sensations to creep up behind my
ears.

I sat for another ten minutes listening to Harry rattle on about his last Quidditch match when I
came up with a plan. I thought it was a damn good one. I would face *this* head on. I would
confront it, stick my tongue out at it, and let it know that I wasn’t about to let any unknown
confusing entity come between my best friend and I, and I was going to do and act the same way I
always did on Thursday nights when Ron usually studied with us.

I kicked off my shoes and found my spot at the end of Harry’s bed. I thought I saw relief come
over his face and I wondered briefly if he was wondering the same thing I was but I put it aside
then, not ready to think about him actually thinking about *this* too.

*Merlin help us if we’re both crazy.*

We talked for quite a while, Harry asking the questions and me providing the answers, and
without Ron to distract us; we finished our assignments in record time. I was particularly pleased
that Harry did so well with his advanced Arthimancy Project, a subject he had struggled in at the
beginning of the year.

“Well, I don’t think I could have done it without you,” he said.

His face was so sincere, and his eyes were so startling…

I blushed then, against my will, and uttered a polite “thank you”.

He took off his jumper, laying his head back onto his pillow. I pulled mine off as well, and sat
“Indian style” at the bottom of his bed.

“I think that Professor Flitwick will probably give us a pop quiz this Thursday. I saw him in
the library making copies of something he seemed reluctant to show anyone,” I said feeling more
relaxed.

That was until I caught him staring. He was staring at me. I did what any polite person would do
in that situation. I ignored him, and rattled on about trivial things for the next five minutes or
so.

He seemed to be pretending to listen. *What was he staring at?*

Then I noticed the room felt a little breezy, and I looked down to find my oxford shirt…well,
lets just say *I had come undone.* Nothing completely scandalous, but I was revealing a bit
more then I felt comfortable with.

“Harry!” I said, turning crimson and moving my fingers as fast as I could to redo the buttons
that had come loose, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Harry laughed and sat up, “I was going to… but…well…I was just about to.”

I took his pillow and whacked him so hard I thought for a minute I might have actually injured
him.

Then he attacked. And there were screams mixed with giggles mixed with threats mixed with sighs,
and somehow (I think it was after I tried to hex his hair neon pink but failed, instead turning
Ron’s dress shoes that hideous color) I ended up on top of him, buttons undone again, and face
flushed.

And *this*…was in the air so thick I could barely breathe.

I started to roll off of him, but he stopped me, putting his hands on my hips.

“Hermione?” he said, his voice slightly shaky.

I was drowning in it now. *This* was causing my stomach to flutter and my mouth to go dry.
I thought I must have looked pretty stupid, hovering over him with my mouth slightly open, but he
obviously didn’t think so because that’s when he pulled my face down to his and kissed me. Just
like that.

I think I yelped.

He kissed me harder. I kissed him back. I was concentrating very hard on our kiss, having not
had much experience in the area, and I even dared to dart my tongue around his mouth. This got a
moan from him, so I did it again.

Then Harry Potter did something that I didn’t expect. He moved his hands under my skirt and
tentatively over my rear end.

I yelped again. He heard me this time because he broke our kiss and he moved his hands back to
my hips.

“No, it’s alright…” I said.

Something flashed in his eyes. He was nervous.

*Good*, I thought, *because I’m terrified.*

He kissed me again. It was a long one, and we had to break away for air after a few seconds.
Ron’s pink shoes caught my attention.

*Ron.* We couldn’t let Ron catch us doing *this.*

“What time will Ron be back?” I asked.

Harry’s hands had found their way back to my bottom again during our last snog and he groaned in
my ear at the mention of Ron’s name.

“Soon…I guess we should stop,” he said reluctantly.

I nodded and rolled off of him sitting up. We were both quiet for a minute, collecting our
thoughts about what had just happened. His breathing was noticeably more audible and I struggled to
gain some semblance of composure.

“That was…unexpected,” I said.

Harry sat next to me, still flushed. “A little.”

Then I’m not sure what happened. I think it was this thing in the pit of my stomach that told me
I wouldn’t be able to sleep that night if I didn’t get *this* out of my system. I didn’t think
much about it. I just said it.

“We could go to my room,” I blurted, sounding a little like Lavender Brown after a few too many
butterbeers.

“Okay,” he answered.

But we still didn’t move. One minute…two minutes…

“Now?” he asked.

“Yes,” I replied.

We stood to leave. I pulled on my jumper, and grabbed my books. Harry started tying his shoes
and everything was nice and casual. Except it wasn’t. It was *pretend* casual. I felt like
taking his hand and running as fast as I could to my room, so we could continue what it was we had
started earlier.

Then Ron walked in, smiling.

“Hey, where are you two headed?”

“No where,” Harry blurted out in a weird high-pitched voice.

Ron gave him an odd look. “All right.”

“Harry and I are just going to my room to finish with Potions, I forgot some ingredients there,”
I lied.

Harry nodded. Ron found this an acceptable answer and flipped on his CD player again.

“Are you going to be long?” Ron said as we opened the door to leave.

Harry looked at me and I shrugged my shoulders, hurrying out before Ron could ask any more
questions. I felt a little guilty about lying to him, but what was I supposed to say? *“It
depends on how far we go, but if all goes well you might not see him until tomorrow.”*

We walked through the common room, not stopping to talk to anyone. We didn’t even talk to each
other. I don’t know what was going through his mind, but mine was going a mile a minute.

How far is this going to go? Am I prepared for this? Are we going to be friends after this? Am I
wearing the panties with the stupid polka dots all over them? Would he notice even if I were?

The tension between us was excruciating. By the time we reached the door to my room, it was
obvious we were both anxious to finish *this*.

As soon as I closed the door behind me, he had my back against the wall, and his mouth was over
mine. Any inhibitions he had earlier about having his hands up my skirt had disappeared. He took
off his glasses and lay them down on my desk without even breaking our kiss.

My knees felt too weak to stand much longer and my legs must have started to tremble because he
picked me up and carried me to my bed, pinning me underneath of him.

Maybe I had a little tart in me after all because I loved...*this*.

His hands moved to the collar of my jumper, and he tried to pull it over my head. It wasn’t very
graceful, and it took us a few moments to get my hair untangled from one of the buttons on it.

We recovered quickly though, and he began unbuttoning my blouse. He was clumsy at first, but by
the time he got to my midriff, he had become quite adept. I threw the blouse aside, sitting up a
little so he could fumble with the hooks of my bra. After an few seconds, I felt the last hook give
way. I pulled the garment off, tossing it on the floor as well.

Harry stopped to gaze down at my breasts. The look on his face was intense, like the one he got
just before catching the snitch. I was more than a little nervous as he bent his head down to kiss
the soft crevice between them. I ran my fingers through his thick hair, as he moved his mouth to
one of my nipples. I groaned at the initial contact, not quite expecting the feeling to be so
intense. I arched my back as he fed on me, moving from one breast to the other. Feeling an ache
between my thighs, I moved my legs farther apart, grinding into him.

“Hermione…” Harry moaned, apparently not yet expecting that. He pulled back from me
slightly.

“Hermione…are we…I mean…. are you sure? This would change our friendship forever…. What I mean
is…”

Harry was searching for words.

Harry, I think we’ve probably already done that already. And I want this,” I said, sounding more
confident then I really was.

He was completely crimson now, as he looked down at me again.

“You’re so beautiful…are you sure?” he asked, right before he kissed me again.

“I’m sure Harry,” I whispered.

A few hours ago, I was all ready to spend a typical evening with Harry and Ron and the only
thing I thought I would accomplish was my History of Magic essay. Now it looked as if I were going
to lose my virginity.

I confessed to him, “I’ve never actually done this before.”

“Neither have I,” he said, looking relieved, “But I think we’ll manage.”

He pulled his own jumper off, and then the Quidditch t-shirt he wore underneath followed it to
the floor. I had seen his bare chest before, but never so close. I let my hands run over it as he
kissed me again. His skin felt so good against mine.

“Inpregnatus avoidus…” I whispered, glad to actually have paid attention during that very
embarrassing sex-ed class with Madam Pomfrey.

Feeling bolder, I let my hands travel to his trousers, managing to undo the button and pulling
the zipper down. Harry helped, sliding his pants down and kicking them off. He wore boxer
shorts.

Polka dots. I almost laughed, but thought it might not be a good idea just then.

I froze as I felt his hands move up my skirt and tug on the waist of my tights. He pulled them
off of me and most likely sensing my nervousness, moved over me again, locking me into another
passionate kiss.

My lips were swollen and puffy, and I’m sure I had a drunken glaze over my eyes. He unbuckled my
pleated skirt and slid it off effortlessly.

I had actually worn the nice underwear.

The thin material of his boxer shorts left little to the imagination, and as he let his weight
fall on me, settling between my thighs, I realized that Harry was…well…more than I expected.

I actually began to worry if this was going to work.

“Harry…” I said as he started to tug at my underwear.

He was perfectly still at the sound of my voice. I could tell he was praying the next thing out
of my mouth wasn’t “Please stop.”

“I’m just a little nervous…Please go slow.”

The look on his face melted me. He kissed my forehead, then my nose.

“I will…I promise,” he said.

He pulled at my panties now, sliding them down. I can honestly say I had never felt so
completely vulnerable, but this was Harry. He helped, gently pulling them off my feet. He let his
hand touch me there…and I relaxed some, breathing into his ear. He kissed me again and I helped him
pull his boxers off. I looked down, panicking again and shutting my eyes as tightly as I could. He
nudged my legs farther apart with his hips, and gasped when he came into contact with me. He let
his head lay on my shoulder, sighing into my ear. I felt his hardness pressing against my enclosure
and held my breath as he began to enter me.

He moved slowly. I would discover later that this part was very difficult for him as he tried
his best not to hurt me. I felt a burning sensation, and then he moved a bit farther. I could feel
my body adjusting to him.

That wasn’t so bad, I thought.

“Are you all right?” he asked, in a voice that didn’t sound like his anymore.

“Yes,” I said, naively thinking the hardest part was over. I decided to help him, and when I
raised my hips up towards him he sucked in sharply and I tensed up again, realizing that I was
wrong about before having been my maidenhead. We were there now.

“It’s okay,” I assured him, clinging to my bedcovers.

He took me then, and it *was* painful. I whimpered a little, and he was still for a few
moments, letting me get used to him. He was sheathed so tightly inside of me that when he started
to move, I wondered if it was painful for him as well.

I opened my eyes, and the look on his face confirmed that it wasn’t.

I clung onto his back as he moved inside of me, going deeper with every gentle thrust.

“Oh God Hermione…” he moaned.

My bed was making a soft creaking noise, perfectly in time to the rhythm of our lovemaking, and
I was responding to him now, moving under him, urging him on. After a while, he began to quicken
his pace, but I could tell he was holding back for my sake. I didn’t want him to. I was beginning
to enjoy the feeling of him inside of me and I think that’s when I raised my hips and crashed into
him.

Then Harry cried out “Oh God” and I felt him shuddering…once…then again…and I think one more
time. That was when I started to cry.

He collapsed on top me, and I ran my fingers over his back, feeling the little beads of sweat
that had formed there. He lifted his head and I guess my tears surprised him because his face
contorted into worry.

“Please tell me I didn’t hurt you…I’m so sorry…”

I laughed a little, kissing him on the mouth.

“No, it was wonderful. You’re wonderful.”

Harry looked relieved, and kissed me back. He rolled over beside me and we pulled my quilt up
around us. We lay there for a while, kissing and sighing, reveling in this.

“It’s almost curfew,” he said disappointedly.

He told me later that I got this wicked gleam in my eyes then.

“Stay. I’m Head Girl after all, and Justin never does bed checks.”

Harry started kissing my neck, moving towards my mouth again.

“And what am I going to tell Ron? He’ll want to know how we suddenly became more than
friends.”

I let my toes curl up against his calves and my hands wander up to his hair again.

“So we’re more than friends?” I asked in a mocking tone.

Harry smirked at me. “I should hope so,” he said pulling me tighter against him “I don’t want
you doing this with anyone else.”

I was holding him, inhaling him, breathing him, tasting him and loving him more than I thought I
knew how. Loving life. Loving us. Loving *this.*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~FIN~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~