Here's the last bit. Beware though: this part definitely earns the PG-13 rating.
That Time of the Month - Part III
And with that single word, I broke out into a cold sweat, and I was sure my face was bright red. But since running away like a little girl really wasn't an option, I tried another tactic: "Erm, maybe a chocolate instead? I'm sure I have some Chocolate Frogs somewhere…" And if I didn't, I would bribe, cajole, threat, or steal some.
But Hermione just shook her head. "No thanks; a massage is good enough."
Great. I gulped down my nerves and maneuvered myself so that I was sitting directly behind Hermione. At least she was wearing her thick school robes so it wouldn't be-
"What are you doing?" I asked, alarmed.
Hermione looked questioningly over her shoulder at me. "Taking off my robe. Why?"
"Er, nothing," I replied, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. I had, of course, seen Hermione without her robes before; students rarely wore their robes while in the common room, at least not the Gryffindors (those stuffy Ravenclaws were another story). But never before had Hermione sans robes looked so…threatening before. Since it was spring, she wore a thin, white blouse, and I could see the peach of her skin and that thin strip of cloth that ran horizontally across her shoulder blades.
"Harry? Are you all right?"
Oy, I had been caught staring. "Fine…I'm fine," I said quickly and slowly reached out with my hands until they rested against her lower back, where I had seen her grab before. Taking a deep breath, I began to gently knead her back, making small circles with my thumbs and fingertips. Hermione straightened and lowered her head forward, pressing her lower back into my hands. I took this as a good sign (that and the fact that she wasn't screaming in pain) and began moving my hands slowly up her back towards her shoulders, gently massaging as they went. Just when I got right below her shoulder blades, it happened - Hermione moaned.
Now, I had heard Hermione moan before, several times in fact. But on those occasions she'd either moaned in fear, desperation, or helplessness. I'd never heard her moan in pleasure before, and it caused all these inappropriate thoughts to race through my head, and blood started traveling to place that should be left well alone at the moment.
"Please," Hermione said in a husky voice, "don't stop." Oh God…what are you doing to me Hermione? Hearing her say that only intensified the feelings that her moan had caused, and I had to take another deep breath before continuing my upward trail. My hands finally reached the top of her shoulders, and by now the moans and pleasant sighs were coming more frequently. I was beginning to feel a little lightheaded, understandable considering all the blood in my body seemed to be concentrated in a certain area.
"Um, does that feel okay?" I asked hesitantly.
"Mmm-hmmm" was her response as her head lolled from side to side. Without knowing what else to do, I started back down again, towards her lower back. My fingers were starting to ache a bit, but they'd have to fall off before I stopped. As my hands reached her lower back again, she leaned her head back until it rested against my shoulder. We were practically cheek-to-cheek, and I felt a fluttering in my chest. She had tied her thick hair into a loose ponytail, so I had a good look at her neck and understood why vampires were into biting necks; Hermione's neck looked absolutely delectable, it was all I could do to stop myself from nibbling at it.
By this point, I felt that things were definitely getting out of hand, and I knew that the smart thing to do was to end the massage and head back to the castle. It was probably close to dinnertime, and I'm sure Ron was wondering if Hermione had killed me or not. But then my fingers must have hit a particularly sensitive area, because Hermione reached back with her left hand and grasped the back of my neck. I was no longer capable of rational thought, and I gripped the bottom of her blouse and slowly pulled, untucking her shirt from her skirt. Hermione made no sign of protest, so I reached my hands underneath her shirt and began to massage her bare skin.
God, the feeling was absolutely glorious! The skin of her waist was so soft and warm underneath my hands, and when she softly murmured my name, all my reservations and fears were dashed from my mind. Giving in to an impulse, I gently took her earlobe between my lips and began nibbling away, eliciting another gasp from her. What was I doing? The massage was one thing, but this…there was no way this could be possibly explained as friendship. While the massage itself was flirting with that line between friendship and more, this was vaulting right past it. But to be honest, I didn't really care at the moment. All I cared about was making Hermione moan. I moved away from her ear and began sucking gently at the skin right behind her ear, where her hair met her neck. My hands had stopped massaging her, and instead they circled around her waist and pulled her closer to me, so that her back was firmly pressed against my chest. I kissed the back of her neck for a few moments before she pulled away.
When she pulled away, I was afraid that I had gone to far. That she would turn and ask 'what the hell are you doing?' and slap me. That she would have a look of disgust in her eyes, and that I had ruined our friendship beyond repair. But I only thought these things for a fraction of a second, for that's how long it took her to turn her head and press her lips against mine.
Now, this wasn't my first kiss. That happened a couple of years ago in the Room of Requirements with Cho Chang, my first crush. I, probably like everyone else out there, always envisioned my first kiss as something special. You know, either fireworks going off and the ground shaking, or a slow, sweet kiss that curls the toes. Instead, when my first kiss did come around, I was almost faint from nervousness, and the girl I was kissing was practically sobbing as she did so. Definitely not the thing of movies.
But this kiss with Hermione…this kiss made up for my kiss with Cho, and so much more. In fact, it seemed to make up for everything: for my parents, for Sirius, for Voldemort. If this kiss was my reward for going through everything in my life, then it was all worth it (okay okay, I suppose one kiss can't really make up for sixteen years of crap, but it was damn good, let me tell you, and plus, there was the promise of more to come). Unlike with Cho, where I was constantly wondering if I was doing it right, all I could think about was the feeling of Hermione's lips. As we continued to kiss, she twisted around to face me, and I felt her hands push against my chest. I leaned backwards until I was lying on the grass, Hermione on top of me as our lips met one another in a frenzy.
I honestly don't know how long we spent kissing each other. But eventually darkness fell and it became obvious that we had been out there for a long time. By some unspoken agreement, we both decided that it was time to get back to the castle. After a few last, lingering kisses, I rolled off of her (somewhere along the line we had rolled over so that I was on top) and helped her to her feet, holding out her robes for her to get back into.
As we walked silently back to the castle, the rational part of my mind returned with full force. What had I just done? What had we just done? What was Hermione thinking at this moment? Did she regret what had just happened? How would this change our relationship? As I started worrying myself to an ulcer, I felt her hand touch mine. I looked down with near-awe and watched as our fingers intertwined, and then looked up to find her smiling warmly at me.
Sometime early on in our friendship, I believe in third year, we had learned to speak without words. A head nod or a look was usually enough to convey what we were thinking to each other. And just now, Hermione was speaking to me without using words. Her smile, her eyes - it was all enough to tell me what she was feeling, to tell me that I needn't worry about anything. I knew that soon enough we would talk about what had just occurred out there and analyze our changing relationship (it was Hermione, after all), but for now, words weren't necessary, and frankly would be inadequate (at least any words that I could come up with) to describe how I was feeling at the moment. I matched her warm smile with one of my own, and leaned forward to give her a small kiss on the lips. Hand-in-hand, we walked back to the castle together, a much better ending to the day.
**********
A/N: And so ends another story. Hope you all enjoyed, and thanks to everyone for reviewing! Must write another story so I can get another fix!
Oh, and the offer of chocolate in the first paragraph was inspired by Tiffr's review. Thanks!
Creepy Susie: Harry was a bit uncomfortable with the idea of a massage because 1) he grew up without any form of physical affection (hugs, pats on the back, etc.) and therefore feels awkward giving/receiving them, and 2) as Harry thought, he feared he was crossing some sort of line.
Davaca: I agree that the "pretty bird…" quote is a bit awkward, but including that line was part of the challenge (though I suspect it was intended to refer to Hermione, not a real bird), as was the getting Harry to give Hermione a massage, the male bonding between Ron and Draco, and Draco yelling like a girl. There was another line I was supposed to add about dancing the can-can, but I just couldn't.
However, I will disagree about the comparisons…those magical creatures aren't "evil," just dangerous if handled incorrectly. I think it aptly describes a sensitized Hermione.