Unofficial Portkey Archive

Harry Potter and the Infernal Plan Part VI
by Jori

REVISED July 2003

e-mail: Jori@netroenterprises.com

Set during and after their sixth year at Hogwarts, Hermione asks something of Harry that will change their lives forever.

NC-17.

Spoilers for all five books. Most of this was originally written well before Order of the Phoenix came out but I decided to go back and do some edits. Some were very necessary while others were more cosmetic.

H/Hr story

This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

***********

Harry held an envelope, staring at the address printed in a feminine hand, not quite ready to turn it over to Uncle Vernon yet. It had come by the normal post with the rest of the day's mail, but he knew there was still going to be yelling involved. Somehow, yelling was always involved anytime he asked the Dursleys for anything.

This was far too important for him to give up without trying, though. He straightened up, gathered his resolve, and marched into the kitchen. The Dursleys didn't even turn their head to acknowledge he was there.

"Mail, boy?" Uncle Vernon demanded, waving a fat hand at Harry as he continued to stare at the television.

"Uncle Vernon, I have a letter . . ."

Uncle Vernon's face began to turn red before he could even tell him who it was from.

"It better not be from that school of yours," Uncle Vernon said, not taking his eyes off of the television set.

"No, it's not."

"And it better not be from *those* people," he said, the redness now reaching the tips of his ears.

"Those people . . . you mean the Weasleys? No, I don't think they would have used the regular mail. This is from the Grangers," Harry said, looking at the return address once more before handing it over.

Harry already knew what was written in the letter. Uncle Vernon had already put a stop to him getting any mail by regular post once this summer so he had been secretly exchanging mail with Hermione using Hedwig as the go between even though he'd promised he wouldn't. Harry would have complained to his friends at the Order but he didn't really want to tell them why it was so important he needed to get mail.

He had to have some kind of contact with her and although he deeply desired to pick up the telephone and call, he knew that would never be allowed or if he were allowed, it would come at a price. Instead, Hedwig would bring back a letter in the middle of the night and he would read it over and over until he was too tired to keep his eyes open for another minute.

This particular letter was about Harry going to visit the Grangers and more importantly, visiting them during the week of his birthday. So few of his birthdays had been all that enjoyable and he hoped this year would be different. He wanted to spend it with Hermione. They had worked hard to secretly plan this and he hoped that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would agree.

He watched as Uncle Vernon tore open the envelope and pulled out the letter. It was from Hermione's parents, just like they had arranged several nights ago. Uncle Vernon's eyes skimmed over the words and his expression changed several times.

"This . . . Mr. and Mrs. Granger," he said slowly (pronouncing their name as if it were a dreadful disease).

"Yes?" Harry asked.

"Are they abnormal like you and this Herm . . . this . . . friend of yours? Are they also freaks?" Uncle Vernon asked, unable to pronounce Hermione's name no matter how many times he might have heard Harry say it.

"Oh, no. They're dentists," Harry said and with that, the red on his uncles face lightened up by at least one shade.

"And why should I let you stay there?" he asked. Harry had hoped that getting rid of him for a few days would have been reason enough. They didn't know that Hermione was his girlfriend and he preferred to keep it that way. If they knew that, they would never let him go since that might mean he'd enjoy himself. No, he'd have to come up with an awful reason and the Dursleys would surely say yes.

Harry thought quickly. "You know how I've been complaining about that tooth?" Harry asked, placing his hand on his cheek. Uncle Vernon merely nodded. Harry knew he could complain for ages and none of the Dursleys would have heard.

"What has that got to do with any of this?" Uncle Vernon asked. Harry looked over and saw Dudley staring at him instead of the television, probably waiting for the yelling. Dudley loved it when Harry got yelled at.

"Like I said, the Grangers are dentists. I'm sure they'll be more than happy to have a look at it. That would save you and Aunt Petunia a lot of time," Harry said, knowing he'd never let the Grangers actually touch any of his teeth. Not when Madam Pomfrey could fix it up quickly and without the pain that Muggle dentists liked to inflict.

Harry didn't really care about the tooth anyway. What he did care about is that Uncle Vernon looked like he liked the idea.

"And I see they're willing to pick you up," he said, looking at the letter again. Harry didn't know how much begging Hermione had to do in order for her parents to agree to this but he was thankful for it. The Dursleys would never drive him that far nor would they let him go by himself. He knew that for sure.

"Oh, of course they are," Harry said, not trying to conceal the fact that other people were always willing to do things for him even if the Dursleys were not.

"You better not get into any kind of trouble with this girl," Uncle Vernon said without realizing what he was saying. Aunt Petunia turned towards her husband, her eyes wide. Dudley just snickered. None of them thought Harry knew anything about sex. Little did they know he now knew quite a bit.

"What do you mean, Uncle Vernon?" Harry asked, playing dumb.

"I meant . . . I mean, you better behave when you're in their home," he said, fumbling for words.

"I will, Uncle Vernon. I promise," Harry said, fighting to contain his smile. He knew if he smiled, he might change his mind.

He also knew that when he returned, the Dursleys would most likely figure out some way to punish him for no reason but a few days with Hermione would make it all worth it. A part of him wished that Ron would be able to come, too, but he was in Romania visiting his brother. Another part of him was quite glad that Ron was gone because he would get to be with Hermione alone.

"You're letting him go? Just like that?" Dudley asked, sounding terribly disappointed.

"We'll take the time to go on a little trip ourselves, Dudders. Anywhere you want to go now that we don't have to worry about him," Aunt Petunia said, giving Harry a smug look. Harry didn't care where the Dursleys went as long as he was far away from them.

Since Mrs. Figg had disappeared from the neighborhood, they hadn't even been able to go on Dudley's birthday trip without having to drag Harry along. Of course, Harry knew what happened to his old baby-sitter, but he wasn't about to tell them. Now, the only chance they got to go for a holiday was when Harry would go to the Weasleys. He was old enough to stay on his own but they would never allow it.

"Uncle Vernon, can I please go call the Grangers?" Harry asked, noticing how happy his uncle looked at the prospect of a little vacation without having to worry about Harry.

"Keep it short, boy. No more than a minute," he said, and Harry rushed for the phone, hoping that it would be Hermione answering.

***************

The meeting with the Grangers was going better than Harry expected. Of course, it helped that they showed up driving a perfectly respectable new automobile and knocked on the front door instead of trying to arrive through the fireplace.

They were also wearing Muggle clothes (Hermione in a pair of blue jeans, much to Harry's keen disappointment since he had been hoping for a skirt) instead of long flowing bright green robes or anything else that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would find abnormal.

Obviously, Hermione had warned her parents to avoid certain topics since Uncle Vernon and Mr. Granger made small talk about the Prime Minister and the weather without the word magic being mentioned once. Uncle Vernon even forced out a small laugh when Mr. Granger joked about them both being in the drilling business. Meanwhile, Aunt Petunia was terribly pleased at how Mrs. Granger was carrying on about how lovely the house was.

Harry looked at Hermione from across the room and smiled a real smile for the first time all summer. He hoped that they could leave soon so he didn't have to worry about the Dursleys changing their minds. And he couldn't wait to be alone with Hermione in the back seat of the car where there was the outside chance he could hold her hand when her parents weren't looking.

"Have you met the Weasleys?" Mr. Granger asked and Uncle Vernon started to turn a funny shade of reddish purple. "Wonderful family . . ."

"That . . . family . . ." Uncle Vernon started to say, his voice now a snarl and his ears tipped in a rather painful red.

"Look at the time!" Hermione said, standing up and interrupting Uncle Vernon. She thrust her wrist out towards Mr. Granger and he quickly realized he said the wrong thing.

"Yes, we should be going. Long drive and all," Mr. Granger said, reaching for his wife's arm. "We'll take good care of Harry and you'll have him back safe and sound in a few days."

"Lovely house. Very lovely house," Mrs. Granger said one more time, trying to smooth over her husband's mistake.

Harry grabbed his large bag (he wasn't about to leave all his school supplies and his wand behind) and rushed out the door with Hermione right behind him. They raced to the car and shut themselves inside before Uncle Vernon could say another word. While Mr. and Mrs. Granger were saying their last goodbyes to the Dursleys at the front door, Hermione leaned over and gave Harry a quick yet sweet kiss. It was a little awkward, after so long apart, but he was sure he could get used to her all over again quickly.

"I've missed you so much. All of you," she said, the look of longing on her face so intense that it made a slow warmth travel through Harry's body, leaving his cheeks flushed. His body also reacted in a few other ways, some slightly more embarrassing than others. Hermione didn't fail to notice this and she smiled, obviously pleased that she still had this power over him.

"Not as much as I've missed you," he said, holding onto her hand while he still had the chance. She pulled away from his touch as soon as her parents got into the car, shutting the doors on the red faced Dursleys.

"Sorry about that, Harry," Mr. Granger said, pulling his car out onto Privet Drive and getting away from there as quickly as he could. "In all my years of drilling away on people's teeth, I don't think I've ever seen anyone turn that particular shade of red. Or was it purple?"

Harry looked out the back window as they drove further away from the Dursleys, happy to be getting away if only for a few days. He saw their newest neighbor, a nice old lady by the name of Mrs. Wobbleton, wave to him from her front yard as her skinny gray cat circled around her ankles. Before he had a chance to wave back, they turned onto a different street.

Looking forwards, he sighed with relief. "That was nothing. He once turned such a bright shade of red that I thought I might have accidentally turned him into an apple . . . except, I don't know how to turn people into apples. Hermione probably does," Harry said proudly and the Grangers laughed nervously. Although the Grangers were quite proud of their daughter, Harry often forgot that they quite possibly had no clue how brilliant of a witch their daughter actually was.

"Er -- yes. Speaking of apples, is anyone hungry? We could stop for a spot to eat soon," Mrs. Granger said and the idea sounded quite agreeable to Harry. It was then that he noticed Hermione hadn't taken her eyes off him yet and his cheeks turned bright red at the thought of all the things he wanted to do to her. That was, if they ever got a chance to be alone.

Knowing Hermione, she had already planned a few dozen ways to make that happen.

*************

"I forgot to tell you that Hedwig arrived this morning. I put her in the guest bedroom and away from Crookshanks. Obviously, your owl was in on our plans," Hermione whispered to Harry as they got out of the car in front of the Granger house. Although, for obvious reasons, it wasn't magical like the Weasley's, it was a very nice house. Better than Uncle Vernon could ever own.

"I couldn't leave her with the Dursleys. Can you imagine what Dudley would do to her?" Harry asked, following Hermione up the front walk, his bag over his shoulder. The only thing he left behind was his broomstick and a few old books, but he hid them well.

Before they could get to the door, a voice behind them said, 'Hello, Hermione."

Both Harry and Hermione turned to look at a teenaged boy on his bicycle. Harry guessed he was about his age, only a little taller and stockier . He spoke in an accent Harry hadn't heard in years and he had neatly trimmed light brown hair and big blue eyes that moved from Hermione over to Harry.

"Er -- Drew. Nice to see you," Hermione said, sounding as if it was anything but nice. So this was Drew, Harry thought, looking him over more closely. When Drew looked back at Hermione, giving her a spectacular smile, Harry decided immediately that he hated him more now than he did already.

Harry also wanted to reach for Hermione's hand and hold it in his, but her mother was watching from the doorway. If she found out that they were more than friends now, their time together might come to an abrupt end.

"Hello, Drew! We haven't seen you in a few days. Why don't you come in for some tea?" Mrs. Granger called out. Hermione turned around and shot a nasty look at her mother. She didn't seem to notice. All that Harry noticed was that she said days. Not months or weeks, but they hadn't seen Drew in a few days. He'd have to remember to ask Hermione about that.

"Thank you, Mrs. Granger, but I see that Hermione already has company," Drew said, pouting just a little.

"There's always room for one more. Hermione, dear, aren't you going to introduce your friends to each other?" Mrs. Granger said and now Hermione was also pouting. She waited until her mother was inside the house and the door was closed before she said another word.

"Drew Rowntree, this is Harry Potter. Harry, this is Drew," Hermione said, nodding from one boy to the other.

"So you're him," Drew said.

"Him who?" Hermione and Harry both asked at the same time. Hermione had told Harry that she didn't use him as her excuse to break up with Drew. There were too many other problems besides the fact that they had sex together, although that was certainly a big one.

"The famous Harry Potter," Drew said and that caused both Harry and Hermione's mouths to gape open. There's no way he could possibly know that and if he did know, who was he?

"What do you mean by that?" Harry asked, his hand smoothing his bangs down over his forehead.

"Aren't you the boy . . ."

"The boy who what?" Harry asked, interrupting him as he fought back the fear that was surging through him. Surely he was just some boy who happened to move to Hermione's neighborhood last summer. He was nothing more.

"The boy who stole Hermione from me," Drew finished and Harry let out a sigh of relief.

"Oh, you must be kidding. I was never really yours, Drew. And besides, Harry and I are just friends," Hermione said and Drew laughed.

"Sure you are. I'll see you later, Potter," he said as he got on his bicycle again and peddled away.

Harry stared after him for a moment before turning to Hermione. "That was pleasant. Whatever did you see in him?"

She took a long time to consider her answer. "He's not all that bad."

"Really?" Harry asked, wrinkling up his nose.

"Yes, but he's no Harry Potter," Hermione added, grabbing Harry by the hand and pulling him towards the house.

************

The bedroom door had barely even been closed for less than a minute before Mrs. Granger opened it.

"I'd prefer it if you kept the door open, dear," she said to Hermione while staring at Harry. He was only looking through the hundreds of book titles crammed onto one of her shelves. She had four other bookshelves just like it that he had yet to get to and he was beginning to think she was trying to reproduce the Hogwarts library in her own bedroom.

Meanwhile, Hermione was sitting at her desk, stroking a purring Crookshanks. Here in a room decorated with old childish posters of pastel unicorns (that looked nothing like the real thing) and flowery rose colored bedding, they were quite the picture of innocence.

"Yes, Mum. I'll leave it open," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. Mrs. Granger gave them a smile and looked like she wanted to be invited in to chat with them but Hermione didn't say another word. As soon as her mother's footsteps had retreated down the staircase to the first floor of the house, Hermione got up and closed the door, though not quite all the way.

Harry had just gone back to looking at the books when he felt a hand on his arm. Hermione turned him around so quickly that he lost his balance and sort of toppled into her embrace.

"I'm so happy you're here," she said, holding him tight. Harry's arms wrapped around her and for the first time since he had kissed her goodbye on the Hogwarts Express, he felt as if he were right where he belonged. He leaned down to give her a light kiss on the lips but she wasn't happy with just that. With a quick glance at the partially open door to make sure neither of the elder Grangers were standing about, they both decided it was safe to go just a little bit further.

With the next kiss, her lips parted under his and she moaned as his tongue swirled around her mouth. He didn't know what part of her he wanted to touch first and his hands roamed around until brushing across her breasts. He was tempted to pull her shirt out of her jeans but it was then that he heard a noise outside the door and they both jumped apart.

Hermione straightened out her clothes and went to look. No one was there except Crookshanks, who looked very much like he was standing guard. Harry sat down on Hermione's desk chair while she sat on the edge of her bed.

"This was easier at Hogwarts," she said, flopping back on the bed and sounding as frustrated as he felt. "Oh, there's something important that I haven't told you yet."

"What?" Harry asked apprehensively. He had spent the last two months worried that Hermione might decide to end it again and there was nothing he would be able to do about it while locked up at the Dursleys. Surely, she wouldn't invite him here, kiss him and then tell him she didn't think she could keep doing this? He shouldn't worry but he couldn't help it. This had been the longest summer of his life. The entire term at Hogwarts had gone smoothly -- too smoothly as a matter of fact -- and Harry was just waiting for something to go wrong.

"Do you remember how I always took care of certain . . . things using various charms and potions?" Hermione asked and Harry sighed with relief. This wasn't as bad as what he was considering and he knew exactly what she was talking about. Muggles had their methods of birth control and so did the wizarding world.

"Yes," he said, moving from the chair to the floor near where her feet were dangling.

"I very well can't go practicing magic outside of Hogwarts. I love you, Harry, but I don't want to risk expulsion," she said, lowering her voice in case someone was listening nearby. "Nor do I think we're ready to be parents. That wouldn't fit into my plans very well."

"Probably not," he agreed.

"Not now, anyway," Hermione added and Harry just nodded. As much as he wanted his own family someday, he wasn't so sure what kind of a parent he would be after spending all those years with the Dursleys. He had no clue how one was supposed to be a good parent but he was sure it didn't include locking one child up in a cupboard while you gave the other one everything he asked for.

But Hermione had good parents. Maybe too good. Harry heard someone walking up the stairs and he grabbed a book from the bottom of the pile near Hermione's bed, pretending he had been reading all the while.

"Hermione? Harry?" Mrs. Granger called.

"Yes, Mum?" Hermione said, sitting up so she was facing the door. They were still the picture of innocence as far as Harry could tell.

Mrs. Granger opened the door all the way and Harry looked up at her from his place on the floor. She looked at him curiously and it was then that he realized he had been looking at *the* book. At their book. He had Hermione take it home, worried about what the Durlseys would do if they found it in his belongings. It was well disguised in Hermione's sea of books until Harry pulled it out. He hoped that the figures on the front were sleeping right now and not doing what they were usually doing. Closing the book, he placed it cover down next to him and picked up an old spell book and began flipping through it.

"I was wondering, Harry, what you would like to do for your birthday?" Mrs. Granger asked.

"I don't know, Mrs. Granger," he answered, shaking his head. It wasn't a question he was accustomed to. He knew of all the things Dudley had done for his birthday over the years but he was far too old for a lot of that now. What did boys want to do for their 17th birthday? He knew what he wanted to do but he was pretty sure that wasn't the answer Mrs. Granger would like to hear.

"Don't worry about it yet, Mum. Harry and I will figure out something good to do," Hermione said, causing Harry to blush at all the hidden implications in that.

"Let me know so we can make plans," Mrs. Granger said and that made Harry smile. Perhaps planning things ran in the family. She left again, making sure the door was wide open. They said nothing until they heard her banging pans around in the kitchen downstairs.

"There are other things we can do besides have sex. I came here to see you, Hermione. I wanted to see where you grew up and what your life is like when you're not at Hogwarts. I don't care about anything else," Harry said, turning to look at Hermione. She raised an eyebrow at him. Maybe he did care a little but he didn't want to get them in trouble over it.

"Harry, it's just that I wanted to . . . for your birthday. I planned this for so long and I can't believe I forgot something so obvious," she said.

He picked their book up and stared wide-eyed at what was happening on the cover. They never failed to amuse him with their antics.

"There are other things we can do where we don't have to worry about not being able to use magic," he said, flipping the book open to one of his favorite pages. She reached for the book and smiled nervously at him upon reading it. It was something she had never done to him and he certainly didn't want to pressure her into it. He reached for the book and flipped to another page. "And I wouldn't mind trying this as long as you think you'd like it."

She took the book back again and her cheeks grew red upon reading the passage.

"I -- I think I might like to try both of those things," she said, sliding off the bed onto the floor next to him. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. It was then that they heard her mother drop something downstairs.

"Are your parents light or heavy sleepers?" Harry asked Hermione.

"I don't know but we're going to find out tonight," she answered.

*************

Harry stared at the ceiling of the guest bedroom for as long as he could before quietly getting ot of bed and sneaking down the hall. He thought he heard something moving behind him so he ducked into the bathroom only to find that Crookshanks was at his heels.

"Oh, Crookshanks, be a good kitty tonight and find something else to do," he whispered and the cat blinked twice at him before taking off down the hall. It was if he understood him perfectly. As he continued down the hall, Harry stopped outside of the Granger's closed door and heard only the sound of soft snoring.

Hermione's room was right across from the softly glowing nightlight that had probably been there since she was small. He slipped into her room silently and closed the door behind him, turning the lock with a gentle click.

"What took you so long?" Hermione whispered from her bed and he followed the sound of her voice across the darkness, tripping once over a pile of books.

"I wanted to make sure they were asleep," Harry said, keeping his voice down. Hermione held up the blankets and Harry climbed into bed.

"I couldn't wait any longer. I was about to come to you," she said as they snuggled together, hands roaming freely. "I only wish we could . . ."

"We'll just have to think of something else," he said, quieting her with a kiss. Her mouth opened under his and the soft noise she made in the back of her throat sent a jolt of heat traveling down his body. Tugging up her pajamas, his hands went to her breasts and felt her nipples grow hard under his touch. She pulled away from both his mouth and hands and wriggled all the way out of her gown, tossing it aside. That was the only piece of clothing she had on.

He was growing accustomed to the darkness and in her eyes, he could see that she was as hungry for this as he was. Maybe more so. Moving around, Hermione clung to him now, as if she were afraid to let him go and he held her back just as hard.

"I missed you. I tried everything I could imagine to stop thinking about you but it didn't help," she said.

"So, what did you do beside write me letters? Read all your school books again? Is that why there's spell books piled knee high in here? Or did you visit with friends? he asked, wondering if this was why Mrs. Granger had seen Drew so recently. Maybe Hermione was being friendly with him as a way to distract herself. Harry hated that notion and tried to shake the thought from his mind.

"Besides write to you constantly, I did nothing that really mattered. I was so scared that with time, you'd realize that falling in love with one of your best friends was a silly idea. That's why I wrote you so often," she said and he pulled her up so he was looking into her eyes again. Her fingers slid up the old T-shirt he was wearing for pajama tops and she smoothed her hand over his stomach and to his chest until it was resting over his heart.

"I was afraid you wouldn't need me. That you'd meet another Drew -- or maybe he'd get you back -- and that would be the end of it. I'd be stuck at the Dursleys and you'd be happy. I lived for your letters, Hermione, but I was always worried one would come with the news that it was over," he said, sounding like some scared little boy rather than someone who had dealt with unspeakable things. Losing Hermione would be unspeakable at this point in his life. He needed her.

"That isn't going to happen," she said, her hand moving under the waistband of his pajamas. She wrapped her fingers around the beginnings of his erection and slid them up and down until he was hard.

"Hermione," he moaned softly into the darkness as she pulled her hand away. After removing his glasses and setting them aside, she took his hand in hers, bringing his fingers up to her mouth. There, she kissed them before drawing two fingers into her mouth, sucking. He could barely make her out in the darkness, but what he could see made him grow painfully hard and he quickly shed his bottoms, wanting her mouth elsewhere.

She released his fingers and helped him out of his shirt before placing gentle kisses down his chest and abdomen. When she got down to where he could feel her hot breath against his erection, she turned to look at him. He wanted to say 'only if you want to' but those weren't the words that came out of his mouth. "Please," he said wanting nothing more than to feel her mouth on him.

Turning away from him, she held onto the base of his penis and when he felt her tongue soft as velvet move over the head for the first time, he wanted to scream or laugh or die. He wasn't quite sure which. His hips bucked up from her bed and he needed to be all the way in. He needed to feel her lips wrapped around him.

And he got what he needed. Hermione put her mouth around him and slowly took him in. He struggled to keep from thrusting into mouth but he couldn't help it. She pulled away, coughing a little and giving him a nasty look.

"Sorry," he mumbled, hoping she wasn't going to quit already. "I didn't mean to but that's bloody amazing, Hermione. Please . . ."

That's all he had to say and her lips were back around him, moving up and down as her tongue swirled and danced everywhere. He reached out and touched her long hair with one hand while the other held on to her sheets for dear life. The wet sounds she made as she moved filled his brain and nothing else seemed to matter but the rhythm of her mouth and tongue. He felt her tongue sweep across the tiny drop of fluid that was forming at the tip and she stopped for just a moment before continuing on.

After so many months of being apart from her without any sexual contact (he was too scared of the Durlseys catching him wacking off to even try that) he knew that there was no way he was going to last long. Afraid of coming in her mouth on her first go at this, he pushed her away long before he was ready.

"Did you like that?" she asked, moving back up to face him.

"Oh, yes. Very much," he said, kissing her wet mouth. She tasted salty now and he knew that was the taste of him on her tongue. "It probably felt a lot like this."

With that, he disappeared under the blankets, trailing little kisses over her breasts and down her tummy, stopping to swirl his tongue around her belly button just to make her giggle softly. When he got to where he wanted to be, he eased her thighs apart and heard the giggle turn into a gasp as his tongue made contact for the first time with her clitoris.

He circled and swirled around the little nub and she fell completely silent. Harry was beginning to think that perhaps he was doing it all wrong but then her fingers tangled through his hair and she pulled him closer, obviously wanting more. He gave her more, sucking and licking and feeling her body melt under his mouth. He had never heard her make noises quite like that before and he hoped she didn't get any louder. It would never do for her parents to come and find him with his head buried between their daughter's thighs.

Sometimes it was hard for him to believe this was the same girl he met on the train years ago -- the one who was against breaking any of the rules. Here she was now, in her childhood bedroom, allowing him to do these things to her with her parents right down the hall.

He slid a finger into her wetness, and then another, stroking her inside while he kept his mouth focused on her clitoris. Between his state of arousal and the heat she was making under these blankets, he was dripping with sweat now. The scent of her so close did nothing to make him any less aroused and he wished he could do something about it.

"OH!" she said a little too loudly and he felt her body quake around his fingers and against his mouth. He didn't let up and replaced his mouth with his thumb, drawing her orgasm out for as long as he could. Finally, she wiggled away, unable to take anymore.

Harry crawled out of under her flowery sheets, his mouth still damp with her wetness. His hips were nestled between her thighs and the nearness of her sex to his was nearly enough to send him over the edge. She kissed him, tasting herself just as he had tasted himself.

"Curious," she said, running her fingers through his soaked hair. She brushed his bangs to one side and then the other, just like she always did. It didn't matter if she couldn't see it or not. She still did it anyway.

"What?" he asked. She was breathless under him, her breasts heaving against his chest. He had no clue what was curious. Maybe she didn't like that or maybe she was just afraid of how easily they now did things to each other. Enjoyable things.

"It just keeps getting better," she said, pulling him down for another kiss. It was long and passionate, her tongue dancing around his mouth. He tried to remember how awful it had been for her the first time. The improvement from then had to be considerable in her eyes. For him, it had always been amazing.

Without really being aware of it, he was rubbing his erection across her sex. She stopped moving and looked at him as he gently nudged in a little way. He needed her so badly he was willing to risk everything.

"I'll pull out. I promise," he pleaded, surprised he was even asking this but his head was swimming around in a euphoric cloud. What surprised him more was Hermione was considering it. He knew enough to know that with even what they were doing right now, there was a possibility of things going wrong. And he knew that when it came down to it, he wasn't sure he'd have enough control. But he wanted this so badly.

"Harry . . . please," she said, pushing against him. He slid all the way out of her and ended up lying by her side, painfully erect against her hip. "We'll go into town tomorrow. We'll get something. We shouldn't . . . like that."

She sounded upset and he was sure it was with him and not at the situation. He should have never done what he did. He kissed her softly on her cheek and took her hand in his. "Love you, Hermione."

"I love you, too, but I won't let you get away with just anything," she said, turning towards him. He was absolutely dying for release now and he knew he was going to have to leave her.

"Hermione, I have to go to the bathroom or back to my room. I . . ."

"Do it here," she said and he sat up and looked at her. She was beautiful, her hair spread out across her pillow and her bare breasts lit by the scant bit of moonlight coming through the window.

"What?" he asked.

"Do it here. Come on, Harry. Do you think I'm daft? When we used to make out in the common room, do you really think I had no clue about you sneaking off to the bathroom before you went up to your room? It's not like you haven't seen me touch myself. This time, I want to watch you," she said, smiling at him.

"Er -- okay," he said. She propped herself up and he felt awkward with her focusing so intently on his hand and what he was doing. It was as if she was studying how he did this so she could do it next time. Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea.

He was close when he noticed her hands were doing nothing. He kicked the sheets the rest of the way off of her and she looked startled.

"Touch yourself," he whispered. "Come for me again. You can do it."

"I can't . . . I can't again so soon after that," she said but did as he said anyway. Her hand slid down her body, stroking herself. In a few minutes, he came in his hand, all wet and sticky and after watching him, she came again, gasping in surprise.

"I told you," he said, smiling at her.

"I should have never given you that damn book. It has made you smug, Harry Potter," she said as he continued smiling.

Harry wished he could stay with her all night but she had already told him that her father sometimes got up extremely early to read the paper before going into work. Her mother was taking a few days off, obviously not trusting them to not do what they just had just done.

He reached for a tissue from the box at the side of her bed and tried to clean himself up but he wasn't very successful. "I need to go," he said, putting on his glasses and searching for his bedclothes. Her room smelled of the two of them and he had no idea what she was going to do about that. He had to go to the bathroom and clean up his face and hands.

"I'll see you in the morning. After breakfast, we'll go into town and I promise that we'll take care of everything then, okay?" she said, pulling on her nightgown. She grabbed him and kissed him one last time before he got up to leave her. "Then you can come back tomorrow night and every night until you have to leave."

Harry smiled as he closed Hermione's door behind him. Crookshanks was there, looking up at him with big glowing eyes. The cat followed him into the bathroom, nipping at his ankles.

"Sorry, sport," Harry whispered to the cat. "You can have her all to yourself next week. This week, she's mine."

************

Harry woke up with a start, unable to figure out exactly where he was. He reached for his glasses but the night table wasn't where it should be. As if she could tell he was a little disoriented, Hedwig let out a soft 'hoot' from where she was perched in the corner but even though his owl was with him, this definitely wasn't his room at the Dursleys.

Then he remembered exactly where he was. He was at Hermione's house. It was the week of his birthday and he was spending it with Hermione. A huge smile spread across his face as he quickly got out of bed and pulled his robe over his night clothes.

It was then that images of what Hermione and he had done through the night came back to him and a warmth spread across his body. He looked in the mirror at his flushed face and tried to get his hair to stand up a little less. It was hopeless. At least in Hermione's house, the mirrors didn't feel the need to tell him that.

Before he could get out the door, Hedwig let out another hoot. "Yes, Hedwig, I'll bring you back a piece of toast," Harry told his owl before leaving the room. Hermione's door was open and she wasn't in her room. Her parents weren't in theirs, either.

He made his way down the stairs and to the kitchen where he found the family all sitting around the breakfast table laughing at something Hermione was reading to them out of the Daily Prophet. She looked up at Harry and her smile only grew wider.

"Good morning, Harry," Mr. Granger said, motioning for Harry to sit down in the chair next to Hermione. "Did you have a good night's rest? Any problem sleeping falling asleep in a strange place and all?"

"Oh, no. Not at all. I had a great night," Harry said, smiling back at Hermione.

Hermione blushed a brilliant shade of magenta as she hid her face behind the newspaper.

"What do you like to eat, dear? You can have whatever there is in the house," Mrs. Granger said and Harry cast a glance at Hermione. She now had several other shades of red and pink joining her face and he imagined she was blushing right up to the tip of her ears.

"Hermione, put down that paper. Always have to have your nose in some reading material. You have a guest and you should see to it that he gets what he wants," Mr. Granger said and Hermione dropped the paper and scurried from her chair before they could notice the smirk on her face or how flushed her cheeks were.

"Toast, Harry?" Hermione asked from the far side of the kitchen.

"Yes, thank you," Harry answered, smiling as she rolled her eyes.

Everything here was different than it was at the Weasleys, including breakfast. This was more like the Dursleys, only everybody liked each other. That, and Harry could have whatever he wanted for breakfast. He watched as Hermione went about making him several pieces of toast using the Muggle appliances they were both so familiar with. It's only then that he realized someday, they wouldn't have to live like this. They wouldn't be underage anymore and could live like the Weasleys.

"Oh, blast," Hermione said as the toast popped up, black.

"That's okay," Harry said and both of the elder Grangers wrinkled their noses at the smell.

"No, no, no. I'll get this right. If I can't even make you a piece of toast how can . . . oh, I see," she said, interrupting her own train of thought. "Who turned this setting up? Dad?"

"That is a rather tricky recipe, Hermione dear. But after you master toast, we'll work on boiling water next," Mr. Granger said, smiling at his daughter.

"At school, Hermione can make anything boil. We've done some rather tricky potions that involve boiling an ingredient to exactly the right temperature and if it goes one degree over . . . what a mess," Harry said, shaking his head at the memory from this past year. Her parents both stared at him, their mouths open. He thought maybe it would be best if he avoided discussing the dangerous aspects of potions class from that point on.

"Here," Hermione said, setting down a plate of absolutely perfect toast in front of Harry. "I know how to make toast. Without magic or the help of house elves, even."

"Of course you do," her father said, picking up Hermione's copy of the Daily Prophet. Harry imagined all the colors Uncle Vernon's face would turn if he ever looked through that paper and he sighed, wishing he had a family that accepted what he was. Without the paper, he had to rely on Ron and Hermione to let him know that the portrait problem at Hogwarts seemed to be permanent.

"What are your plans for today?" Mrs. Granger asked, looking over her cup of tea at Hermione.

"I don't know. What are your plans?" Hermione asked, trying to sound very innocent. Harry found himself enjoying getting to know what Hermione was like around her parents in her own house.

"Your father has to go into work this morning. Old Mrs. Crabtree cracked her . . . well, never mind. But he'll be working this morning and when he gets home, I'll go in this afternoon. I only have a few appointments," Mrs. Granger said, her eyes shifting from Hermione to Harry and then back again. Harry sensed that she trusted the two of them less today than she did yesterday.

"We're going to walk to town if that's okay with you," Hermione said and Mrs. Granger smiled, looking happy they would be out of the house and a long way away from any doors they could close.

"That will be nice. You can show Harry where you grew up and where you went to school," Mr. Granger said.

"Have you decided what you would like to do for your birthday, Harry?" Mrs. Granger asked.

"I want to cook dinner for him," Hermione said before he could get a chance to answer. All three of them turned their heads to look at her and then down at the plate of half nibbled toast in front of Harry. "I can do it. I've baked cakes before and I won't try anything too difficult. If I can brew up a potion at school, I can surely do this."

"How does that sound to you, Harry?" Mr. Granger asked cautiously. Harry looked at his girlfriend and realized that he could only answer one way.

"I would love it if you cooked dinner for my birthday," Harry said and Hermione beamed.

************

"Did you get them?" Hermione asked in a near whisper as Harry came around the corner.

"Yes," he said, looking behind him to figure out why Hermione was so paranoid.

"And the druggist didn't say anything?" she asked.

"Why would he?"

"I grew up here, Harry. Everyone knows me," she said in a matter of fact tone. "If he knew you were with me and you were buying those, it would raise certain questions that I'd rather not answer."

"This was certainly easier at Hogwarts," Harry said as Hermione grabbed the bag from him and shoved it in the totebag slung over her shoulder.

"I've been reading up on different spells and potions for . . . you know, especially ones that last longer than those I've used in the past. I should have looked into it before the term was over but I never dreamed you'd be allowed to come stay with me," she said, grabbing hold of his hand and then dropping it quickly.

"Oh, come on, Hermione," Harry said, pleading with her as he took her hand in his. "Who's going to see us?"

"I guess no . . ." Hermione started to say when they were interrupted by the sounds of a bicycle stopping behind them.

"So, what are you two lovebirds up to?" Both Harry and Hermione turned around, startled, and Hermione jerked her hand from Harry's. It was Drew and he was about a meter behind them.

"Nothing, Drew, and we're not 'lovebirds.' Harry is a friend from school," Hermione said but she didn't sound terribly convincing as far as Harry was concerned.

"Yes, that school you go to. What school is that, exactly?" Drew asked, narrowing his eyes at both of them. Harry didn't know exactly what to make of Drew. Hermione always made him sound pleasant yet he looked so sullen. Maybe he really liked Hermione a lot more than Harry allowed himself to imagine. It was serious enough that she did plan on going to bed with him.

"How many times have I told you it's just a small school that no one's ever heard of. Very small in fact. There's hardly anything to do there," Hermione answered.

"I think you found something to do," Drew said, his eyes focused only on Harry now. Harry knew there'd be no way he could win if the boy decided to pick a fight about this. At least not without some sort of magical interference, that is. He was no longer the small boy that Dudley's friends enjoyed pummeling but he certainly wasn't big enough to take on someone like Drew.

"Drew, let it be. You and I aren't together anymore and that's all there is to it. It shouldn't matter who I'm seeing now since we decided it just wasn't going to work between us," Hermione said, stepping closer to Drew and putting her hand on his arm. He looked down to where she was touching him, a wistful expression on his face.

"I'm sorry. I miss you, that's all," he said and Harry felt jealousy rush through him.

"Stop by my house before I return to school next month, okay?" she asked. He looked up at her with his big blue eyes and Harry swallowed hard to keep from saying anything.

"Okay. I will," he said, turning to give Harry a quick look. With that, he rode off on his bicycle.

"Hermione, what was that about?" Harry asked, wishing that his insides weren't all twisted up right now.

"He's just a friend, Harry," Hermione said, walking quickly in the direction of her house.

"A friend you were in love with at one time," he said, following her. She didn't say anything for a long time and that didn't do anything to help untwist his insides. "Hermione?"

She stopped so suddenly that he nearly ran into her. Turning to face him, her eyes were filled with something he couldn't quite comprehend. It was a lot of anger and something else . . . maybe sadness.

"I thought I was. I thought I loved him but I was absolutely clueless. I had no concept of what loving someone really meant. He was fun, Harry, and it was nice to have someone to be friends with last summer and I thought it was going to be more but then you happened . . . you happened and I realized that everything else and everyone else . . . none of it could ever compare to what I have with you. Don't you get that? Are you so completely convinced that no one could ever love you the most? Are you?" Hermione asked. Harry took a step back, trying to take in everything she just said.

"I . . . er . . . Hermione . . ." he mumbled and she reached out and took his hand in hers. He really didn't know what to say. A part of him was convinced that she couldn't possibly love him as much as she said she did while another part was desperate to believe anything.

And a tiny part of him, a part he liked to ignore, was convinced that the two of them were in way over their heads with this thing. He had no clue how he could be so confident at so many other things but when it came to her, he often felt as if he couldn't possibly deserve her love.

"You don't have to say anything. Just know that I love you, Harry. You and no one else. Can we not go through this again?" Hermione asked. Harry nodded his head as they started walking and she didn't let go of his hand until they got to her street.

***********

After waiting for what seemed like hours for her parents to fall asleep, they sat next to each other on the floor on the far side of her bed. In the moonlight, Hermione was carefully reading condom package, raising an eyebrow here and there.

"How do Muggles live like this?" she asked, tossing Harry the box. "I can't wait until we're no longer underage and I can do the things I do at school and . . . and we don't have to use those."

"It can't be that bad, Hermione," Harry said, opening the box and pulling out a square of foil. He was willing to endure this a few times if it meant they could have sex immediately. He figured that so far, he already had it better than any Muggle boy his age would have had it and this was only temporary.

"There are just so many things I'm ready for . . . apparating. I can't wait to learn to apparate. And finding out if any of us can transfigure into . . . something. And I'm ready for . . ."

"A shag with your boyfriend?" Harry interrupted. Hermione turned to him and smiled.

"Yes, I'm ready for that, too," she said. He tossed the box aside, careful to keep track of the foil package, and Hermione straddled his lap.

"So am I," Harry said, the feel of her rubbing against him through his thin pajama bottoms was enough to send a flash of hot desire through his body.

"When we can do magic anytime, there are spells I've heard about-- they're locked away in the restricted section -- that can make this even better," Hermione whispered into his ear between nibbling on it.

"How can it get better?" Harry asked, his heart thumping hard in his chest. He had wanted to be inside of her for so long now he wasn't sure how long he was going to be able to last.

"It could go on for days . . ." Hermione said right before her mouth descended on his. Her tongue gently plied his lips apart and then searched his mouth. He returned the kiss, pulling her to him as tightly as he could, while she continued to grind against his lap. His head was swimming with all the sensations and with the thought that he might not live if this went on for days but he'd sure like to try and find out.

He slid his hands up her nightgown, going to her breasts and cupping them. She pulled away from the kiss and took the garment off, tossing it aside. Like last night, her knickers were already gone before he even came to her room, and now she was naked on his lap. He dipped his head, his mouth replacing a hand over her breast and she sighed happily as his tongue danced across her skin.

He slid his other hand down her body and between her thighs, touching her until she moaned. She leaned back, pulling her breasts away from his mouth, as his fingers started to swirl against her. Her eyes were now dark pools of desire, huge without any light, and he stared into them, thinking he might fall in if he wasn't careful.

"I need you," she whispered, moving away long enough for him to strip out of his pajama bottoms and fumble around with the condom. His hand were shaking and in the dark, he couldn't tell which way it was supposed to unroll so he flipped it one way and then the other, hoping the answer would magically come to him.

"Hermione . . ." he pleaded, realizing magic wasn't going to come into play here anytime soon so Hermione would have to be the next best thing. She took it from him and gently unrolled it over his erection, making sure it was on just right. "How'd you learn that?"

"I read the box," she said with a shrug, climbing on his lap again. She held onto his shoulders as he eased in slowly, only stopping when she gasped.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"It's . . . it's been awhile and that thing is drier than . . . well, what you usually are," she said, leaning forward so her forehead was resting against his. He wrapped his arms around her, embracing her tightly, his eyes never leaving hers.

"We can wait until we're back at school. It's only another month," Harry said, trying to sound like he really meant it. Instead of saying anything, she slid the rest of the way down, taking all of him into her tight sex. Now he gasped but it was in pleasure.

"I don't want to wait another minute let alone another month. I'll get used to it," she said, making small movements over him. His hands went to her waist, holding on as she continued to move, helping her find a pace that was good for both of them.

There was no way he was going to be able to last long. Even after everything they did last night, he could feel it building up way too quickly and it wouldn't be long. Someday, he though, they could use charms and potions that would make this last for days but right now he could use one that would make it last longer than three minutes.

Hermione pulled her head back and was biting her bottom lip hard. Maybe three minutes was going to be long enough for her. He didn't hold back and let it end then, feeling the spasms of pleasure pass through is body. She placed a hand on his cheek and gave him a quick kiss before slipping off and snuggling in his arms.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I didn't know it would be like that," he said, kissing the top of her head. He was trying hard not to focus on the condom that was sort of dangling there but Hermione was looking right at it.

"I suppose we have to dispose of that somehow," she said, leaving his arms and reaching for the box of tissues. He did away with it, dropping it and the wrapper into a pile of tissues, crumbling the whole mess up into a ball and putting it aside.

"We can wait until we go back to Hogwarts," he said, pulling her close again.

"But it will be your birthday tomorrow and I had everything all planned. I'll be okay, Harry. It can't be like that every time. Maybe if . . . you know . . .," she said sitting up and touching his lips with her fingers. "Maybe if you did that beforehand it wouldn't be so uncomfortable."

He kissed her fingertips and smiled. "Anything for you."

They stayed there on the floor until they heard Crookshanks pawing the door from the outside. He stopped after a few seconds and they both sat quietly, waiting to find out of the Grangers opened their door to find out what was going on. They didn't.

"You better get to bed. It's late," Hermione said. Even though she said the words, she didn't let go of him.

"Look at the time," Harry said and Hermione turned to glance at the clock by her bedside. She settled back down into his arms and sighed.

"Happy 17th Birthday, Harry," she said softly, her fingers wrapping around his. "I hope it's your best birthday ever."

"I think it just might be," he whispered back.

***********

To Be Continued . . .