Sensibility

Sensibility

Rating: R.

Genre: Romance/None.

Summary: A girl needs nothing more than a massage to relax... One-shot. Answer to a challenge of sorts, proposed by my muse Liv.

Hermione waited there in the Common Room, having the Charms book as her only companion. It was a stormy night outside, and yet the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain Ronald Weasley had decided to take the team to a final training, before tomorrow's match against Ravenclaw. She sighed quietly at the thought of Ron's stubbornness, and wondered about how well they were doing down there.

Her train of thoughts, as well as the silence in the common room, were disrupted by the entrance of a very dishevelled person.

She didn't need a single second to recognize who it was; the messy black hair and the sparkling green eyes were enough to identify him as Harry Potter, one of her best friends. She put the book away, and walked towards him, who was still standing by the entrance.

"Look at you," she said, and he raised her head to meet her eyes. "I told Ron you shouldn't have training in a storm like that." Taking her wand out of her pocket, she muttered a small charm, which dried the water in Harry's robes. He smiled.

"Thank you," he replied, "and you got to take pity on the rest of the team, not on me. Ron said he's keeping the others down there for at least an hour. I'm the seeker, so training like that won't really help."

"Does Ravenclaw really deserve all that effort? I mean, they have never beaten you, and now that..." She paused a bit, knowing not to mention the former Ravenclaw's seeker name. After fifth year, Harry really didn't want to hear about her anymore. He nodded, as if saying he understood.

"Now that she's not here anymore," Hermione continued, "I don't really think they have any chance. And besides, if Ron keeps that training up one day before the game, the team might be too tired to play well tomorrow morning."

"You know, you should have applied as the team technical counsellor," Harry replied, playfully. "A shame this is our last game here," he added, and looked around the room with longing eyes. They were in their last year at Hogwarts, and only month remained before the end of the term. She took his hand on hers and squeezed it.

"Well, we'll still be friends when we're out of here, you know," she said. "You might call the boys for a friendly game someday," she added, and smiled at him. He smiled back.

"Only if you promise me you'll play too. After all, Ginny is a player, and we'll need another girl to balance the teams."

"No way, Mr. Potter. You know very well I do not ride brooms," she said, sticking out her tongue at him. "Now leave that broomstick in your bedroom and come down here with your books. We need to study for the N.E.W.T.s."

"Oh, no, the Tyrant Lady of Study has showed up! What can I do now?" He replied, dodging a playful slap from her, and climbed the stairs that led to the boys' dormitories.

When he got back to the common room, Hermione was already back to her usual seat, book on her lap. He sat by her side, and observed her as she discussed about Charms. He noticed the way her hair fell over face, and how her fingers weaved small curls in it. Hermione had become a really beautiful woman in the last few years; the ways she walked and talked were just...

"Harry," he heard her voice calling him, and snapping him out of his dreams. "Are you paying any attention to what I'm saying?" She asked, a bit annoying. He blushed, and hung his head down sheepishly. This wasn't the first time he had lost himself staring at her; it was pretty common lately, since he had fallen in love with her.

Yeah, Mr. Hero Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, had fallen in love with his best friend. And really hadn't gathered the guts to tell her, even if a big part of the student body was already aware of it. The first to notice was Ginny, followed by Luna, then the "Gossip Twins", Lavender and Parvati, and from there it just went downhill...

Ron had been very supportive of it, since the beginning. He confessed Harry to have had a crush on Hermione in the past years ("How didn't I notice that," Harry asked) but realized they wouldn't make a good pair. Though they were very good friends, their tempers sometimes didn't match and that's not really good for a couple... Ron was now dating Luna Lovegood, and so far, their relationship was very stable. Ron promised not to say anything to Hermione until Harry felt ready to it by himself.

Harry was just thankful the gossip hadn't reached Hermione's ears yet...

"Harry," he heard Hermione call again, and smacked himself mentally. "Can you pay attention to what I'm saying, please? It's pretty useless to go on if you don't concentrate."

"Sorry, Hermione," he apologized, and blushed even deeply. She dismissed him with a gesture of her hand and pointed out a book page at him. "It's okay, as long as you concentrate from now on. Professor Flitwick said these Charms will probably be asked on the N.E.W.T.s. I suppose you'd know that if you and Ron hadn't been sneaking on the Slytherin's dungeons mid-class," she added with a sigh.

"Well, it was Ron's idea," Harry replied quietly, but Hermione didn't answer. He couldn't remember what the hell he and Ron were doing on the dungeons on that day, so he couldn't defend himself better. He also noticed that if he were paying attention to her, this had been a perfect moment to tell his feelings for her. 'Ron must have set us up,' he thought, before turning his eyes to the text.

They remained silent for ten minutes or so, until Harry felt he had enough of that reading. Charms, to him, had been always practical work, not reading. He just needed his wand and then a bit of practice to get all things done with. Before he raised himself from his seat, though, Hermione did it first. Strangely, she lost balance and fell back on the couch.

"What happened, Hermione?" Harry asked, a bit concerned, a bit curious.

"My legs and my feet are numb. I suppose I remained in that position for too long," she replied, frowning.

"Oh, I know something good against that," Harry said, and taking her legs, stretched them over his lap.

"Harry, what do you think you're doing?" Hermione asked, a bit embarrassed.

"Oh, I'll give you a massage. Oliver taught us this one back in second year. You see, sometimes your legs and feet go numb during a quidditch game, so you need to do this when you hop from the broomstick," he explained, and started working his fingers over her feet.

Hermione couldn't deny Harry knew what he was doing; he had barely touched her feet, and she felt them going normal again. But, unfortunately, Harry didn't know that she had a weak spot on her feet. She had been very sensitive on that region; anyone that touched her there would provoke a very strong reaction, either of pain, pleasure, or relaxing.

Now just imagine what reactions she was receiving from having her feet touched by the person she loved.

Oh, yeah again, Ms. Hermione Jane Granger, Brightest Witch in a Century, had also fallen in love with her best friend.

Unaware of his feelings, however, she had refused to tell him about them; he had, after all, too many prettier girls to choose and too many crazy murderers hunting for his head around. She would never expect him to see in her anything other than the "smart and helpful best friend". And that was exactly how she acted around him. Until he had decided, of course, to give her a massage on the feet.

Harry saw Hermione close her eyes, and supposed she was enjoying his handwork. He couldn't complain himself; the vision of her face, with eyes closed, was enough to give him a stir in lower regions of his body. And also, he felt strangely good to be pleasing the girl he secretly loved.

Meanwhile, Hermione was reaching heaven. When Harry had moved from her feet and started for her ankle region, she just couldn't hold it anymore. She moaned. As she noticed the sound coming out of herself, she blushed profusely, and hoped Harry hadn't heard it. But the sudden stop from his moving hands told her the opposite. She opened her eyes and found him looking at her.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she began, stammering. He was taken aback. When did Hermione Jane Granger ever stammer? "It's just that... Well, I have very sensitive feet. I tried to tell you before, but you started that and it felt just so good and..."

"It's okay," he replied, a small smile of understanding on his face. "I'm glad it felt that good. I never actually learned it properly. Do you reckon why it was so good, Hermione?"

She was hoping he wouldn't ask that, but seeing there was no way to hide her feelings from him, she looked into his eyes and prepared to say everything. Until she noticed she really didn’t need to say.

“Maybe for the same reason why it’s so good for you to do this, Mr. Potter,” she replied, in a whisper that surprised herself for its seductiveness. Feeling a bit bold, she moved her legs over his lap, and wasn’t surprised to entice a reaction from Harry.

He wasn’t expecting her to catch on so quickly, but he didn’t complain. Removing her legs from over his lap, he sat on the floor, and while she laid on the couch, he started to give small kisses throughout her feet. She closed her eyes again, and he smiled smugly.

“I ask myself, Miss Granger,” he said, and started to move his kisses towards her leg, “why haven’t we ever talked about your sensitiveness before. I’m sure it would have been very… pleasant.”

Faster than she thought she could do it, Hermione changed positions until she found herself face to face with Harry. Then again, in another seductive whisper, she answered, “I don’t know why we never did that before, Mr. Potter, but I’m sure you can make up for the lost time.” And with that, she fastened her lips to his, in a kiss that spoke for the time they had hidden their feelings from one another.

Their hands roamed over one another’s body, in a lustful frenzy that neither could understand properly, but enjoyed fully. When they broke apart from the kiss, they both were on the floor, Hermione sitting in Harry’s lap.

“If we need to make up for that time, that was one hell of a good start,” Harry said, breathless. Hermione giggled weakly.

“Oh, but you haven’t finished my massage yet, mister,” she said, and laid back on the couch. “I suppose we had stopped… Right there,” she added, pointing to her thighs. Harry blushed slightly, but managed to throw her a wink in return.

“Yeah, I suppose it was right there too,” he said, but before he could do anything else, they both heard the sound of a moving portrait, which meant someone was coming in. They straightened their clothes the best as they could, but couldn’t turn to their books in time.

“Hey, mate, what are you doing there on the floor?” Harry heard Ron’s voice ask, and turned to the portrait to see him coming in, along with the rest of the quidditch team.

“My feet had gone numb and Harry was just giving me a massage,” Hermione answered, before Harry could say anything. Ron remained silent for a while, before he answered.

“Oh, got it,” Ron replied. “I think the team had enough training for today; we’ll be crushing Ravenclaw tomorrow. But now, I think everyone should go to bed, and that includes you, Harry,” he added, turning around to make sure all the other players were listening to him. Everyone nodded, and so did Harry. He dark-haired boy turned to Hermione.

“Are your feet better, Hermione? I think I need to go, or else captain here will kill me,” Harry asked, trying to maintain his composure. Hermione smiled, as though nothing had happened.

“Sure, Harry, go ahead. If I feel anything again, we can finish that massage later,” she replied, and walked to the girls’ dormitories. Harry saw a meaningful gleam in Hermione’s eyes.

‘That will be most pleasant, Hermione,’ Harry thought to himself, as he and Ron climbed the stairs to their bedroom.