Author's ramblings: Well, boys and girls who are still talking to me after I failed to write another chapter last weekend! Sorry about that- I felt so guilty about not having studied at all, that I attacked my Chemistry book, forsaking everything else. Bloody hell, I think I'll crack up soon! I mean I got Three hours of sleep last night. Three! Studying sucks! Especially when you've got nine subjects for your Leaving Cert- I mean, nobody takes 9 honours subjects for Leaving Cert… What possessed me?
Anyway, enough about my pathetic goings on! Thanks to all for their reviews- nobody hurt my feelings, for which I'm grateful! You make my weekends worthwhile! Onwards and upwards, so…
Disclaimer: Now… There are days on which I think I'm J.K Rowling, but today I think I'm Kate Bush so that's grand! … 'Heathcliff, It's me, Cathy come home, I'm so cold…'
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The atmosphere in the club was electric. Harry's band was obviously well known and extremely popular. The club itself was a typical grungy little hole. All bands have to start off playing in a place like that: It's tradition. Except for if you qualify from some shitty televised 'talent' contest. In that case, you get to debut at the Royal Variety. Some would say these types of performers are an affront to music and deserve to be shot… Some wouldn't. It's a matter of personal opinion.
Anyway, the club was a dirty, noisy, smelly yet terrifyingly comfortable affair. The lights were low and it was packed to bursting point with people in the 16 to 25 age-group who's personal hygiene was about as inadequate as can be found among people of fixed abode.
Hermione sat on a stool at the side bar, drinking a blue alcopop from the bottle and watching Harry and his mates setting up on stage. The crowd was exuding anticipation. Oh, wait- … Actually no, that was BO. But they were exited, hence the reason for the latter.
Hermione met Harry's eyes shyly from time to time as he looked down. He did a couple of sound checks on his guitar, as the lads behind him jammed away on their own instruments causing a hugely uncomfortable cacophony of sounds. Nobody cared, though.
At last, the sound checks were complete. A hush came over the crowd as Harry swung his guitar over his shoulder in an amazingly attractive way. His guitar was a black one: almost the exact colour of his hair. Not cheap, but slightly damaged, Hermione knew it must have been Dudley's.
Harry looked down at Hermione intensely for about two seconds, causing some heads to turn. He was dressed in his jeans, an old whitish t-shirt with a rip in the front of it. His eyes, beneath his unruly fringe, seemed to shine from the stage. He was mesmerising, and he knew it; he commanded the attention of everyone in the club. They held their breath as one.
Then, all of a sudden, the silence of the club was shattered. The drums started up in a steady rhythm, followed by Nick's pounding bass. When Harry's smooth sounding electric guitar joined in, the crowd lost their minds. It was like Beatlemania, but with more substance abuse and sexual activity in corners.
Hermione recognised the song at once. It was her favourite. Her jaw dropped, and Harry looked down at her and winked. Hermione gripped the counter of the bar with one hand and her stool with the other as Harry started to sing in a clear smooth and incredibly sexy voice she never dreamed he possessed.
Life has been unfaithful
And it all promised us so much
I am a relic
I am just a petrified cry
Wheeled out one a year
A cenotaph souvenir
The applause nails down my silence…
Hermione found herself moving onto the floor and swaying with the music. She watched as Harry closed his eyes and sang for all he was worth. That was him in the song. It could have been written for him, she knew. That's why it was her favourite. And with Harry himself singing it… Oh god, she was so incredibly turned on.
La Tristesse Durera
Scream to a sigh…
Harry sang with strength and passion, his band mates watching him with awed admiration. No… wait a minute: Oh, dear God, that was most certainly not a look of professional admiration that Richey just sent his way, Hermione thought. She let it slide.
I see liberals
I am just a fashion accessory
People send postcards
And they all hope I'm feeling well
I retreat into self-pity; it's so easy
Where they patronise my misery
La Tristesse Durera
Scream to a sigh… To a sigh…
The riff. Hermione watched in disbelief as Harry and his guitar moved as one, his eyes closed, and a look of ecstasy on his face. The crowd were as silent as the grave, and the lads on stage watched him as if he were a god. Hermione, stunned beyond comprehension watched with open eyes and gaping mouth as Harry finished the riff with a jump and launched into song again, more powerfully than ever.
I sold my medal
It paid a bill
It sells on market stalls
Parades Milan catwalks
Oh the sadness
Will never go…
Will never go away
Baby, it's here to stay
La Tristesse Durera
Scream to a sigh…To a sigh…
There was an explosion of sound as the song ended, Hermione screaming herself hoarse with the best of them. She felt like there was nothing to do but scream for more.
Harry looked down at Hermione, as if begging for her opinion. She couldn't move. She just stood there, gaping. He took that as a good sign and he smiled at her nervously. She gulped.
He kept his gaze on her still, and she stared back. The crowd's heads flipped back and forward like at a tennis match. Harry was breathing heavily after his performance and it was fairly obvious to the crowd why Hermione was breathing heavily.
Harry, without breaking eye contact with Hermione, held a hand up commandingly. Almost immediately, Sean began on the drums, building up in a crescendo until the others joined in at the climax, Harry leading. For this song, he kept eye contact with Hermione the whole time.
It was strange glue that held us together
While we both came apart at the seams
She said your place or mine
While we've still got the time
So I played along with her schemes
But I don't have the right to be with you tonight
So please leave me alone with no saviour
I will sleep safe and sound with nobody around me
When faced with my demons
I clothe them and feed them
And I smile, yes I smile
As they're taking me over
And if I cannot sleep
For the secrets I keep
It's the price I'm willing to meet
Oh, the end of the night
Never comes too quickly for me…
Hermione whimpered as his gaze intensified while he played the riff of the song. It was a song Hermione had never heard before. It was slow and haunting. The crowd was silent once more in respect to the song and it's fantastically attractive singer.
The song ended and the silence became painful. Harry and Hermione had not taken their eyes off one another as they stared at each other with open longing and lust. All of a sudden, it was like something between them snapped. The air seemed to thicken with anticipation.
The crowd gasped as one as Harry suddenly lifted his guitar over his head and handed it to Nick, who accepted it dazedly. Harry, jumped of the stage and the crowd parted to let him through.
Harry and Hermione hurtled towards each other like two trains, one having left Glasgow at 7:15pm and the other London at 8:05pm, and travelling at a speed of 55 miles per hour each.
They met each other in the middle of the floor as the band, led by Richey, started into a loud number to take the attention from Harry and Hermione. Not like they could have given two shits.
They flew into each other's arms, their lips meeting forcefully, kissing desperately and passionately, their hands roaming everywhere. Harry led them to the side, never once coming up for oxygen. There were more important things. It was when Harry had Hermione pressed up hard against the wall, his hand up her top, that a resounding scream of rage filled the club.
'You BITCH!'
It was Emma the stalker.
The band stopped, almost without knowing, to watch the drama unfold. The crowd again parted to let an enraged and determined Emma through. Harry groaned.
Hermione sighed loudly in frustration. She walked out to meet Emma halfway, just as angrily and determinately, ignoring Harry's protests. She met Emma-the-stalker's eyes defiantly.
Emma raised her hand quickly and suddenly as if to strike Hermione. But Hermione was quicker, obviously. She grabbed Emma's raised hand and, as quick as lightning and using a move Harry had taught her in the D.A., twisted it so that Emma fell to the ground, face down, her arm held behind her back. Hermione bent down, putting a knee on Emma's back to hold her down. Hermione spoke quietly and menacingly and the assembled onlookers craned their necks, the better to hear.
'I swear to you, you odd little girl', Hermione intoned. 'If you so much as look at him again, I shall see to it that you never look at anything else ever again.' She spoke chirpily now. 'Are we clear?'
She flipped Emma over. She was catatonic with fear, and understandably so. Hermione stood up, triumphantly. The crowd shrank back.
The band started up again as Harry grabbed Hermione's arm from behind. He was beaming proudly. He pulled her against him and bent to kiss her again. The kiss became more urgent as he led her towards the door. She tangled her hands in his unruly hair, exploring his mouth with her tongue. She felt the chilly night air on her bare arms, and supposed they were outside. She heard a small pop and all of a sudden; she could feel herself falling as one might were they trapped in a free falling lift.
She opened her eyes and tore herself away from Harry face, panting. She realised that they were in Harry's bedroom. She looked up at him and he was smiling smugly.
'Apparation, Harry?'
'That doesn't mean I don't want you to charm my wand, though', he replied deeply.
Hermione was breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling as she gazed at Harry. He stared back just as forcefully. They could hear sounds from the rest of the house. Disturbing sounds. They ignored them. It was probably Luna and Ron.
Harry and Hermione stepped towards each other. Their passion had intensified ten-fold, so that both were finding it increasingly hard to breathe. The room crackled with spontaneous magic.
For the second time that night, it was like something snapped between them. They closed the gap between them, and collided with a dull thump that may or may not have hurt. Their lips found each other. Hermione kissed him like her life depended on it. She had a suspicion that her life might have actually depended on it at this stage. She felt as if she might explode.
His lips were soft and his mouth warm and sweet. He dipped his head to taste her neck and she moaned loudly and desperately. She could feel his hot breath scorching her neck. Her hands gripped his shoulders before running down his hard chest. He groaned against her neck, causing her to tilt her head for him. His tongue flicked out against her neck.
Hermione's hands found the buckle of Harry's belt. She fumbled desperately with it as Harry brought his lips to hers once more, sliding his tongue between her lips. It was veering into spontaneous combustion territory for Hermione.
She managed to get Harry's belt buckle undone blindly. She gripped the bottom of his old t-shirt and pulled it upward, grazing his chest as she did so. He gasped, breaking the kiss for a split second to tear the offending article over his head. Kissing her again, he did the same with her top, pulling it off her with desperate haste and he backed her towards his bed.
Hermione's knees hit the bed and she fell backward onto it, dragging Harry down on top of her. She could feel the hard bulge in his pants pressing against her leg as he kissed her chest, while fumbling frantically behind her back with the bra-clasp. He undid it, removing it and chucking it unceremoniously away from him. It soared out the open window.
By now, Hermione thought she wouldn't be able to stand a second more of this. Harry was sucking on her neck while kneading her breast with his right hand. Her hands found his trousers again, and undid his fly with almost unnerving speed. She took the waistband and began to push it down. Harry cooperated and kicked off his shoes before sliding out of his jeans alarmingly quickly. He found her lips yet again, while his hands gripped the waistbands of her trousers. She lifted her hips up as he slid them over her hips.
Hermione's hands were fisted in Harry's silky hair, and she was beginning to make sounds that could most certainly be heard through the open window.
Now, all that stood in their way was Harry's black boxers, and Hermione's white-laced knickers. As Hermione's hands still gripped the back of Harry's head, pulling his face closer to hers as their tongues battled for dominance, Harry slid off her knickers before removing his own. Boxers, that is.
Now there was nothing at all to separate them. Harry lay on top of Hermione, and she whimpered as his hands slid down her body. Hers did the same, sliding down his warm, toned chest, finally grasping his long, hard length as his fingers found their destination. Harry groaned gutturally and Hermione threw her head back wildly as his thumb grazed her sensitive spot and, all dignity forgotten, she begged him to fuck her.
'Harry', she pleaded loudly with him. 'Oh god… Harry…'
That was all the coherent speech she could manage anymore, she thought, but she managed to string three more letters together. 'NOW', she almost screamed at him. He moaned loudly, aroused beyond belief by Hermione's wanton pleading.
She grasped his length again, and he positioned himself between her legs. He pressed against her entrance and kissed her fiercely. She held his face in her hands and her tongue slid into his mouth just as he slid into her in one quick, powerful stroke. Hermione winced slightly, but the pain was nowhere near as bad as she had expected. She was past caring.
She threw her head back in pleasure at finally having Harry inside her. Harry, seeing that she was all right, began to move. He pulled out, almost all the way, before pounding into her again. Hermione's hips met his, thrust for thrust, as she took him in deeper each time.
Harry turned slightly and pounded into her again, harder than ever. This time, Hermione could feel the tip of his long, thick cock nudge a spot inside. She yelled with pleasure, arching her hips upward to facilitate more of that.
Harry's pace was steadily increasing, and Hermione gripped his shoulders tightly as he slammed into her over and over again. He whispered her name in her ear every few seconds as she screamed every time he hit that spot inside.
Her legs were wrapped around him, and took him in even deeper than she thought possible. Harry was dimly aware that he might have been too rough, but Hermione's screams of 'harder, Harry, HARDER!' reassured him that she was enjoying it.
He slammed into her again, skin meeting skin with an incredibly erotic slapping noise. Hermione felt the pressure building up inside her as his length moved in and out of her, angled perfectly for pleasure. She was dimly aware that she was screaming his name loudly, and he hers, and she felt the pressure inside her building and building.
She screamed loudly as she came, her walls clenching and unclenching around Harry's cock. He fingernails dug into Harry's back as her orgasm seemed to go on and on as Harry held out, still fucking her hard and fast.
He let out a strangled cry as another orgasm shook Hermione and her walls tightened around him more than ever, milking him. He came, pounding into her with his last strokes and Hermione felt his seed spill into her. She whimpered softly with pleasure, as Harry collapsed on top of her, exhausted.
They were both breathing deeply and erratically, having just experienced more pleasure that either ever thought possible. Hermione took Harry's face in her hands again and kissed him fiercely. His face was hot and his fringe matted with sweat, but he reciprocated the kiss with just as much passion.
Hermione pulled away and at a loss for words, all she could logically think of to say was:
'I love you Harry'.
She hadn't meant to say it, but neither did she regret it. Harry looked at her intensely again. He still lay on top of her, inside her.
'I love you too', was all he could manage. Hermione smiled fondly at him, and brushed the hair out of his eyes.
Harry rolled off her and took her in his arms. 'Wow…' he whispered.
Hermione smiled to herself. 'My thoughts exactly', she whispered. 'We are definitely doing that again'.
There was a sudden noise like the clicking of a lock. The door of Harry's bedroom opened, and in walked a large contingent of the Order of the Phoenix, Lupin in the lead.
'Harry, it's time to- 'Oh my GOD!'
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Well, that's it for this weekend, people! I find it incredibly difficult to write comic sex, so I think I alternated between smut and comedy- not that there was much of the latter in this chapter. Excuse the fluff: I am a hopeless romantic!
The Songs used were; La Tristesse Durera, by the Manic Street Preachers (Read my fic 'This is my truth, tell me yours' if you liked it) and the second song was called 'Strange Glue', by Catatonia. I love my welsh bands!
Please Please Please, Review! It really does make writing the next chapter easier when I know what people want or expect!
Thanks a million people! IamHermione
Review!