Secretive

Summary: One fine night at a London pub, a few friends from Hogwarts get together. The girls go off on how handsome Harry's become, and question Hermione on why she hasn't taken advantage of this situation. She shrugs it off, but goes home to do something completely different. Fluffy, smutty, NC-17 (cursing and smut), plan on one-shot, might add another chapter at the end. Small plot. This would've been Harry/Ginny, except PK prohibits it. Yes, I know. I'm bad. Go ahead, egg me. But I adored JK for that pairing.

Disclaimer: I had presented this idea to my dear friend, Rosie, and she informed me that she'd recently read a one-shot similar to the idea I had formed. I would just like to let everyone know that I did not read such a fic, and I am not stealing anyone's idea. Just in case someone decides to go crazy on me. I had been beta-ing Amanda's Lucky (very cute), when I thought, “What a funny idea if this happened…!” And so, it was born. Oh, yeah, I don't own Harry Potter.

*~*~*_Secretive by Natali_*~*~*

His hands slid up her inner thigh, caressing and loving her. She bit her lip, trying not to make a sound. If someone heard them, they'd be in so much trouble… Unfortunately (fortunately, in his opinion), she tended to be a screamer—

“He's just gotten so fucking hot,” Parvati Patil chuckled sensuously, sipping her beer and interrupting the daydreamer's reminiscing. “Who knew that gangly teenager we all blew off would be such a catch come his twenties?”

A finger circled her clit, pressing lightly. She pushed herself down on his hand, urging him to go on…

Lavender Brown nodded, stirring her Irish coffee. “I remember, the day we graduated, when the boys all went out for a final game of Quidditch and took their shirts off… Blimey, but I almost came right then and there! Not a bit embarrassed about it either.”

She climaxed, gripping his head, whispering his name over and over… She was always loud on the way up, but so silent afterwards…

Ginny Weasley agreed wholeheartedly with a hum, flicking a glance at the object in question. “Just bloody gorgeous.”

Hermione Granger didn't smile, didn't join in. They were interrupting her thoughts and memories. “He's just a guy, not a god.”

The three girls whirled to look at her. And just stared.

Lavender snapped out of it first. “Look over there, Hermione. What do you see?”

Hermione obliged her, sipping her gin and tonic serenely. “Ron, Harry, Neville, and the whole gang.”

“What else?” Lavender prodded.

“Girls. No less than ten of them.”

Ginny shook her head. “I'm not saying I'm not happy with Draco—”

“Which reminds me, what the bloody fuck are you doing with that wanker?” Parvati spat, glaring at Draco Malfoy, who was somehow still whole. Harry and Ron were showing restraint for Ginny's sake.

“—but Harry can come and shag me anytime. Draco will get over it,” Ginny finished, ignoring Parvati.

“I still don't know how you haven't at least hooked up with him, Hermione,” Lavender pondered. “I mean, you've been his best mate for almost ten years now, right?”

“Something like that,” Hermione muttered, eyeing the bartender. If he'd just turn around again so she could get a glimpse of that cute bum one more time…

“I would've jumped him by Fifth Year!” Parvati shrieked, giggling. “And we all know you would've too, Ginz. Am I right, or what?”

“Piss off,” Ginny snarled. “Am I to understand correctly that you once shouted out his name during your sleep?” She gave the shocked Parvati and evil smirk.

“You bitch!” Parvati accused Lavender. “Well, did I ever tell you about the time that Lavender forgot her knickers in—”

“Relax,” Hermione snickered. “I told her.”

“Oh.” Parvati glared. “I don't have any dirt on you, unfortunately. I think the worst thing you ever did was oversleep once.”

If only you knew whose room I would sneak off to during Head rounds at night, Hermione thought, smiling fondly at the memories. If only you knew what I'd just been thinking about minutes before… Is it me or is it hot in here?

“Right, back to the subject at hand,” Lavender pronounced perkily. “Mr. Potter must get awfully lonely in his flat. Cold too. I'll let him know I'm willing to warm him up some.” She smiled seductively at him.

“Oh, he's not alone,” Ginny said quickly. “Hermione moved in months ago. He'd needed someone to split the rent with him, it being so high and all. Even Harry `The Chosen One' Potter couldn't pay for a flat across from Kensington Gardens.”

“Oh?” Lavender and Parvati chorused, giggling suggestively.

“I bet you warm him up every night,” Parvati snickered.

“Don't be stupid. I moved in to share the rent, not his bed.”

“You've got your priorities all fucked up, that's what,” Parvati sighed. “When was the last time you got laid, Hermione! You must be dry and crusty by now.”

“Disgusting,” Ginny groaned.

“Oh, it hasn't been that long,” Hermione shrugged, grinning.

“I found a used rubber in her trash bin!” Ginny exclaimed, laughing uncontrollably. “Just last week, actually!”

“Ginevra Weasley, would you shut the bloody hell up?!” Hermione hissed, ducking her head when half the pub turned to look at her.

Parvati and Lavender joined in the laugh, fighting to breathe.

“Who was he?” Lavender gasped. “Was he good? Do you recommend him?”

“Must've been. There were two. She doesn't trust magical contraceptives, you see. She prefers the proof,” Ginny informed them, sending them into laughs again.

“Well, well, well,” Parvati smirked. “Even Miss Hermione Granger lets her hair down every once in awhile. Her pants too.”

Getting into the spirit of things, Hermione laughed and nodded. “I blame you three. You've been a bloody terrible influence on me.”

“Blame away!” Parvati smiled.

Lavender looked around. “Nice to have the old gang together again, huh? Amazing we managed to rent out an entire pub for the reunion. It's been a couple years, hasn't it?”

“We lose touch too easily,” Parvati sighed, eyeing Seamus Finnigan. “Seamus's got big feet… You know what they say about men with big feet.”

“Big socks?” Hermione offered, laughing. “Go for it. I saw him staring at your arse earlier. God knows the two of you are equally horny.”

Parvati winked. “Wish me luck,” she whispered, rising. “Oi! Seamus! I've got something that might interest you over at my place. Wanna come see what it is?”

Seamus grinned wickedly. “Later, mates. Miss Patil no doubt has something very interesting to show me.”

“Use protection!” Lavender, Hermione, and Ginny yelled out simultaneously. They laughed when Parvati gave them the finger. Poor Seamus was actually blushing, the poor dear…

“So, who are you heading home with, Hermione?” Lavender asked. “I saw Neville giving you the old looks again.”

Hermione smiled. “Didn't you hear? Neville's engaged. His fiancé's in Glasgow right now, working on something for the British government. She's really nice, I've met her a few times.”

Lavender shook her head. “Sad day when Neville Longbottom gets married before either of us.”

“Ginny, you ready to go? I promised Dumbledore I'd be on time tomorrow, no matter how hungover I am,” Draco said, taking her hand. “You can stay if you want.”

“No, I'm ok. After all, we're still meeting next Saturday for the Theatre, right?” Ginny asked, getting up.

“So far as I know. A two-week long reunion. Definitely something Justin would plan…” Lavender muttered disgustedly. “Go on, you two. You've wanted to fuck since you've gotten here.”

“Shove off,” Ginny shrugged, smiling and waving goodbye to everyone, then disappearing with Draco to their house in Wimbledon.

“I give them two months before they're married,” Hermione snickered. “It's disgusting how much she likes him.”

“Too true.” Lavender sighed, straightening and getting out of her chair. “Well, it's near three now, and I'm going to pick myself up a Ravenclaw and head to bed. Not to sleep, mind you,” she wriggled her eyebrows, kissing Hermione's cheek. “Later!”

Hermione found herself alone at the table, smiling to herself. Harry noticed, stood, and walked to her side.

“You want to go home?”

Hermione shrugged. “I'm ok if you want to stay a bit. Or I'll just go on my own,” she told him. “You'd better make sure Ron gets home safely. He hasn't been this pissed since that time he fell into Draco's whiskey pool and swallowed too much accidentally… You remember what a catastrophe that was.”

“I do,” Harry chuckled. “If you're sure, I'll try to get him to wrap it up here somewhat quickly. I should be home within the hour.”

“You're a big boy,” she said, standing up, “and I'm sure you can make it home by yourself. You're wearing those Big Boy Pants now, remember?” With a pat on his shoulder and a smart grin, she went to say her adieus before exiting the pub and heading for her flat.

*~*~*

“I'm home, Hermione.”

“I'm in the loo brushing my hair!” she called to him. “Be a dear and bring me that ribbon on my bed, will you?”

He did so, and she tied her hair up loosely with it. She smiled at him in the mirror.

“I hope Ron wasn't too much trouble.”

“Luna was just as drunk as he was, and I just managed to stop them from taking off their clothes in the cab,” he growled. “They're a menace to polite society.” After a pause, he added, “But I got them to Mira Close safely, though the way that vase they had in the front hall crashed, I'll make sure never to touch that table without checking it with a black light first.”

Hermione laughed. “Our friends are so horny.”

Harry's mouth kicked up at the corners. “So are we.”

“We contain it.”

“…Not always, Hermione.”

He came up behind her and slid his fingers onto her hips. She leaned back against him, already hot.

“You know I hate it when you put your hair up,” he murmured into her ear, untying the ribbon. It fell to the floor, swirling in circles.

“It makes things easier for me in the mornings. Not as many knots,” she explained, ever the practical witch. “I've got enough hair to unknot, thanks.”

“Makes things more difficult for me, especially since you know the first I do is take it off.”

“I know. But there's something exquisite about the way you run your fingers through my hair afterwards… It's worth your frustration,” she explained.

“Mmm.” He bent down and kissed her pulse point. “What were the four of you talking about earlier?”

“Incidentally, you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Apparently they're all ready to go to bed with you. I had to bite my tongue in order not to tell them to fuck themselves. You're taken.”

“I love it when you get possessive,” he chuckled, tracing her outer ear. “We could just… tell them, you know.”

“We could.”

“That would ruin the fun, wouldn't it?” Harry said, reading her mind. “Ron said he'd come by last week but when he let himself in, he noticed my bedroom door closed and moaning coming from the other side.”

Hermione blushed. “I remember that. I told you I'd heard a door slam.”

His hands worked their way up to her breast while the other slid around to her stomach. “You looked so beautiful tonight, with that little black dress. Seamus said a few things.”

“You were nice, right?” Hermione whispered, turning her head to capture his lips. “It is nice to see everyone again, isn't it?”

“Sure. If you ever really liked most of them.”

Hermione laughed, turning in his arms and stretching against him, shifting suggestively. “It wasn't so bad.”

Harry put his lips to hers and kissed her hard, stealing the breath from her—as always. She gave a small moan, which he echoed, sucking on her tongue.

“Not tonight,” Hermione said, breaking the kiss. “I've got work in the morning.”

“You can call in sick for once and share the day with me,” Harry smiled. “I've been meaning to talk to you about switching your days off to match mine anyway. I tried with Frank, but he wouldn't hear of it.”

“I'm just happy it isn't Quidditch season, or you probably wouldn't even had made it to the party tonight,” she pouted. “You give your whole soul to that team.”

“It's my job.”

“Bloody job my arse. You love that more than you love me.”

Harry sobered, kissing her nose. “Now, I wouldn't take it quite that far, Miss Granger. Don't put yourself down so. I wouldn't risk my life for Quidditch.”

“Don't bring Seventh Year into this, Potter.”

She felt rather than heard his chuckle. He knew she became annoyed when he reminded her that he'd nearly gotten himself killed for her at the end of Seventh Year. Really, it just scared her to even think about what could have happened. But that was neither here nor there, and it was in the past.

“I was talking about Third, but ok.”

“Sure you were.”

“You're coming to bed, aren't you?” he asked, massaging her buttocks.

“Harry, I really do have an important report to finish tomorrow—”

“You don't want to come to bed with me?”

Hermione sighed, accepting resignation. “When you put it that way…”

He gave a shout of triumph and picked her up abruptly, like a groom carrying his bride over the threshold. “I love it when you pretend to be difficult.”

“Harry!” Hermione shrieked, laughing and clinging to him. “Harry, I really do have work tomorrow.”

“No, you don't,” he argued, tossing her onto his bed and following her, reaching for her nightshirt. “You'll stay with me all day and make love to me and come out with me.” He pushed up her shirt, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses everywhere he could reach. She moaned, spreading her fingers through his hair.

“Harry,” she whispered, shivering at his touch. “Oh, God, Harry.” His tongue swirled around her belly button, probing deeply. She reached down and unbuttoned his shirt, throwing it off his shoulders urgently.

His fingers fumbled with the drawstring on her bottoms, but eventually he pulled them off, baring her green lace underwear. His pressed a reverent kiss to the inside of her thigh, but when she parted them, he shook his head.

“Not yet.” He reached up, pulling off her shirt, baring her breasts. “Oh, Hermione, you're just so beautiful.” He took a nipple into his mouth and suckled, inciting a groan of pleasure from Hermione's lips, in which he reveled.

“You say that all the time, I think it's become quite automatic.”

“I mean it every time, and there's nothing automatic about it, love.” He rasped her nipple with his tongue, making her gasp for breath.

“You're so good, you know that? The girls are right. I don't blame them for wanting to fuck you. It just gets me so bloody mad every time they mention something about how you look, or what they'd like to do to you, or the position that they'd—”

“Don't let it bother you,” he whispered, kissing her soothingly.

“Touch me,” she whispered back, arching her back. “Touch me, I can't wait anymore.”

Harry obliged her, hooking his fingers into her knickers and pulling them down slightly, tantalizingly. His forefinger brushed her light brown curls, and she shuddered with anticipation. He kissed as many places as his lips could reach as quickly as he could, still tickling her curls, and not going any lower.

Usually she enjoyed the foreplay, but she was just so starved for sexual satisfaction—two girls from Hufflepuff had slept over last night because they hadn't been able to get a hotel room. Luckily, tonight they were gone, but she couldn't hold out much longer.

Her hand slipped down and underneath his pants and underwear, gripping his swollen member. If she was anxious, he was doubly so. With a few desperate jerks, she had him naked, and wanted to do the same.

“Why are you in such a rush?”

“I've never perfected patience. Take it or leave, Harry,” she grinned. She took his acquiescence as his taking it, and sighed when his fingers sifted through her damp curls. “Don't stop.”

“Did I ever tell you,” he began, kissing his way down her midriff, “how amazing you look in bed? You look like such a fallen angel, like you'd never want to be anywhere but right where you are… It makes me feel… warm and tingly all over.”

Hermione couldn't help it. She laughed in his face. “Harry, that's the… girliest thing I've ever heard you say.”

He nipped her, not quite playfully, and she cried out. “Watch it!”

“Well, the girly way I described it is how I feel.” He chose that moment to slip one finger into her, and she couldn't reply.

In fact, both were beyond words. But in Harry's bed, it wasn't often that words were muttered. Names were yelled, and blessings groaned, but hardly ever words.

Though, that would be a good thing, wouldn't it?

Another finger slid in, joining the first, increasing the feelings inside her. He worked her up as high as she would go before breaking, then would take her back down.

At last, he slipped his fingers out, and pushed himself in excruciatingly slowly…

Then the dance began. In and out, in and out, over and over and over and over again, deeper and deeper…

Not long after, Hermione cried out and fell onto her pillow, exhausted and riding a wave of deep pleasure, his name falling off her lips in a sigh, barely registering Harry's guttural groan and shudders.

They shared a kiss of deep satiation, before falling headlong into a deep, limb-entangled sleep, Harry still deep within her.

*~*~*Later That Morning…*~*~*

“Hmm,” Hermione sighed, rolling over to face Harry, who was staring at her with wide green eyes. “What?”

“Do you realize, Hermione Jane Granger, that you've officially overslept for the first time in your life?” Harry asked seriously.

She smiled slyly. “Nope, sorry, you're wrong. I woke up on time.”

“No, you didn't. You're two hours late for work, sweetie,” he crooned, awaiting the explosion. Punctuality was big with her.

“You're wrong,” she repeated, closing her eyes lazily. “Woke up on time. I just went back to sleep. Screw my job, I called in sick. And with the headache I'm getting, it's not exactly a lie, is it?”

He broke out into a grin, leaning against her forehead. “I don't believe you. You're just too ashamed to admit you overslept!”

Hermione laughed. “Nope, I'm still perfect. You'll have to wait until next time.” She pressed her lips to his in a kiss that was fiery and delicious. It might have continued on to more, only there was a slight interruption.

“Harry, mate, guess who got—WHOA!” Ron shut his eyes tightly, gripping the door with a viselike grip, knuckles white. “WOULD YOU TWO PUT SOME CLOTHES ON!?”

“What's the matter, Ron?” called a dreamy voice, Luna appearing instantly. “Oh.” Even she was at a loss. “Oh,” she repeated.

Hermione's lips lifted as she thought of the scene they must present: Limbs tangled, hair mussed up, a few body parts showing (her breast had slipped out when they'd sat up suddenly), and the messiest bed north of the equator.

“You guys had fun last night,” Luna said bluntly. “I thought you were working, Hermione?”

“Called in sick,” she answered numbly. She still hadn't recovered from the shock.

“We wouldn't have come over if we'd known.”

“Why?”

“Because we finally figured out that whenever you two share a day off, you're usually in bed acting like rabbits,” Luna explained, eyes examining the bed. “I didn't think you were so wild, really.”

“You knew?” Harry asked dumbly.

Ron snorted. “Knew?! We knew before you did! I think everyone and their bloody mum knew before you two twits figured it out.”

Hermione shrugged, smiling in earnest. “It's nothing personal, we didn't tell you be—”

“You lived a dangerous other life, we understand,” Luna nodded sagely. “I'd concluded that there were Jibbyjacks in your left tantrium long ago. There was an article about it in my dad's magazine last year. You should let him interview you.”

“Er, no thanks, Luna,” Hermione muttered. “Do you two mind, um, leaving, we're sort of… naked, and everything… Wow, this is awkward.”

Ron whimpered, running out of the room and Luna smiled, nodding again. “Yes, yes. I know all about naked.” And she shut the door.

“Too much information,” Harry yawned, laying back in bed. “Might as well get comfortable, I'd bet my right foot Ron Disapparated back to their flat the minute he got out the door. Well, I did tell him to knock when I bought this place, didn't I?”

Hermione bit her lip, humming agreement. “I think I'll go make tea.”

“Leave your clothes off,” he said smartly, tapping her bum. “I love it when I see you walking around like that.”

“What if they come back?”

“They'll learn to come via the front door or to send an owl ahead, won't they?” Harry laughed, eyes following as she went out to the kitchen. “Oh, yes, work that arse.”

“Shut up, Harry!”

There was a minute of silence as Hermione put the kettle on the stove, measuring tea. Then, “You know what this means, right?” was yelled from the bedroom.

“What?” was the yelled reply.

“We're going to have to announce our engagement to the wizarding world by this evening, lest incorrect rumors leak.”

She heard his footsteps fall closer and closer, but she was in shock.

“You're joking.”

“And why not? We live together, fuck together, cook together, shower together, fuck together, eat together, discuss things together, go out together, fuck together, share the same friends, fuck together, make an outrageous income, fuck together… did I mention the sex?”

“You did. We do seem to do that together, don't we?”

“I'd be offended if we didn't.”

“Seems like a … practical thing to do, isn't it?”

“It does. Immensely smart for us to consider.”

“I do occasionally feel like I'm attached at the hip to you sometimes.”

“Many times you are.”

“Harry!”

“Sorry.”

“Doubt it.”

He paused a moment after she fell silent then asked, “Is that a yes, then?”

“If I haven't hexed you by now, I should think that it is.”

She turned around, right into a warm embrace, kissing him invitingly. He picked her up and headed back for the bedroom.

“I hope the tea doesn't burn anything, because you're my slave for the next few hours,” he whispered, nibbling her earlobe.

“I hope your wallet doesn't have a hole in it, because it's my slave tomorrow. You're prepared to buy a big ring, I suppose?”

“Women. All they want is diamonds and sex.”

“Men. All they offer.”

He bit her playfully, and she laughed, hugging him tighter as they fell to the bed.

“Do you love me?” she asked.

“Would you like me to explain my girly feelings again? All the warmth and tingles, and fuzziness—”

“Yes or no.”

“Then yes, with girly feelings to boot.”

“Yes, I know all about your girly feelings. I saw you trying on my heels the other day.”

“I was just wondering what the big fuss was about!”

“I'm sure you were.”

“Do you love me?”

“Yes.”

“Then never, ever bring that up again.”

It took a second for her to say, “Done.” She had to consider whether it was worth using for blackmail.

But then, there was that time back in Seventh Year when he'd put on her thong, so she decided it was all right. That was probably better anyway.

*~*~*_The End_*~*~*

A/N: Ok this has been in the works for almost two weeks now, only one week doesn't count because I was on a cruise. So, while this definitely no longer follows JKR, I'm posting it anyway. If anyone's interested, I'm posting this as a Harry/Ginny at ff.net. But yeah. Why read the same exact story twice? Just if you wanna show your support, Lol.

Thanks to Rosie for being my Beta!!!

Now, review? You know you want to… :- D.

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