O by cheering charm

Rating: NC17
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 14/08/2005
Last Updated: 14/08/2005
Status: Completed

One shot PWP smutlet. He isn't supposed to make her feel this way.




1. O
----



**O**

**by cheeringcharm**

“Harry?”

A soft knock on the door followed the hoarse whisper.

“Harry.”

The door opened a crack revealing a sliver of Harry's face. “Hey. I thought you were
asleep?”

“No,” Hermione said, casting a fleeting look towards the door across the hall. “I had a midnight
snack. I need to clean my teeth. Are you decent?”

“For the most part,” Harry said, opening the door.

“Thanks,” she said, squeezing past him into the tiny bathroom, trying to ignore the fact that
Harry only had a towel wrapped around his waist. “I'll be quick.” She opened the medicine
cabinet above the small pedestal sink, grabbing her toothbrush and paste. “Did you have fun?”

Harry shrugged his bare shoulders. “It was okay. Smoky, like most clubs, so I took a shower. I
didn't wake you and Ron when I came in, did I?”

“No. Ron would sleep through the Hogwarts Express running through our bedroom.”

“Did I wake you?” Harry asked, reaching around her to grab his deodorant out of his shaving kit
which was perched precariously on the sink.

She shoved her toothbrush in her mouth while screwing the cap back on the tube of toothpaste and
shook her head. She smiled at him and began brushing her teeth. Harry raised his left arm and a jet
of aerosol spray shot under his arm. “Ron's snoring keeping you up?”

She gave him a lopsided grin through the foamy paste oozing out of her mouth. “Maybe,” was the
muffled reply.

“Uh-huh,” Harry said, tossing the deodorant into his kit and moving it so she could spit into
the sink.

She bent over, her arse nudging Harry back a step. She paused, her hand cupped under the water,
her face flushing when she realised that it wasn't Harry's leg that she felt on her arse.
“Sorry,” she said, before pooling water in her hand, taking a sip and rinsing her mouth. She rinsed
her mouth a couple more times, buying time for her face to lose its blush, and her heartbeat to
stop fluttering, before facing Harry in the mirror again.

“Small bathroom,” Harry said, moving to the side as much as possible, which wasn't much
considering his calves were touching the edge of the bathtub.

“Small flat,” Hermione said, wiping her mouth with the towel.

“Thanks again for letting me stay here,” Harry said, running his hands through his hair.

“Of course. What are friends for?”

Harry continued to run his hands through his hair, trying to comb it one way, then the next. He
took his palms and flattened his hair on his head, holding it there for a moment as if training it,
then released it. It immediately hopped back into its perpetually untidy state.

“It's a hopeless case,” he said, dejected.

Hermione chuckled. “Here,” she said, pulling hair gel out of the cabinet and turning towards
him. “Let me try.”

“It won't do any good, Hermione. I've tried everything.”

“Humour me,” she said, rubbing a small amount of gel between her palms.

“You're going to need more than that,” he laughed.

“You can always add more but once you've got too much…” She ran her hands through his wet
hair, noticing how different it felt from Ron's. She shook her head, pushing the unfavorable
comparison to Ron from her mind and tried to move Harry's hair into some semblance of
uniformity.

“What?”

“What what?”

“You shook your head.”

“Oh,” she said, searching around for a believable lie. “You look different without your
glasses,” she said, looking into his green eyes.

“Different good or different bad?”

“Just different,” she replied. Her hands stopped as she stared at him and was struck by the
realisation that, despite the fact that she'd known him the better part of her life, she'd
never been this close to him before. An unfamiliar humming sound filled her head and she dropped
her hands.

“I told you it was hopeless.” He lifted his hands and ran them through his hair, peeking into
the mirror over her shoulder. Hermione heard a rustling noise and felt the soft thump of a towel
hitting her feet. Harry's hands froze. Hermione's eyes widened and it took every ounce of
willpower she had to not look down.

“Oops,” Harry said, a nervous smile stealing across his face. Hermione turned away quickly,
while Harry bent down and retrieved his towel. Later she would wonder why, at that moment, she
hadn't turned toward the door to leave. As if in a daze, she turned back to Harry, the humming
sound blocking out all rational thought. She stared vacantly at his chest for a moment, then down
to the spot where the towel was tucked in on itself on Harry's hip. Before her mind caught up
with her body, she'd reached her hand out and placed it on the knot. She stared at her hand,
unsure how it got there and exactly what it meant to do.

She felt Harry's hand on hers before she saw it.

“Hermione?” he breathed. His fingertips were grazing the back of her hand. “What are you
doing?”

She looked up at him, still dazed, and replied, “I don't know.”

They stared at each other for a long moment. With each passing second she expected him to step
back or remove her hand. Instead, she felt his fingertips slide up her forearm, around her elbow
and down the soft inside of her arm until his hand was under hers. In unspoken agreement, with a
flick of their fingers, the towel fell to the floor again.

They stood there, holding hands, and she felt herself tense in anticipation. He guided her hand,
closing his eyes for a moment when her hand wrapped around his dick. She looked down at him, amazed
that brushing her teeth had evolved into her holding her best friend's rock hard - and very
long - dick in her hand while her boyfriend slept in the room down the hall.

The question was on her lips when Harry lifted her chin and kissed her, effectively cutting off
any objections or rational thought that she had. The kiss was firm, insistent, as if he knew any
tenderness might be construed as hesitancy or second thoughts. The reality was, with the taste of
him in her mouth, and the feel of him in her hand, her brain had turned to mush.

She felt his fingers slide under the crotch of her knickers and enter her. No hesitancy there or
with his other hand, which had moved under her night shirt to fondle her breast. His mouth covering
hers muffled her gasp. She felt him smile through their kiss as he pushed his fingers deeper into
her, lifting her to her tip-toes. Her head lolled back, a guttural “God,” coming from deep within
her throat. She grasped his shoulders as he bent down, pushing her knickers down to her ankles. She
kicked them aside before wrapping a leg around his waist. She looked into his eyes, not really
seeing anything, but feeling his dick slide along her pussy, searching for entrance. His face was
flushed and he was gasping with each thrust until he finally drove himself deep within her with a
long, low moan.

He grabbed her other leg and wrapped it around his waist so that he was holding her, pushing her
down onto him, going deeper and deeper inside her. She felt her back hit the door with a thump and
Harry's mouth covered hers again.

She had no idea how long they were there, how long Harry thrusted into her, how many times her
heels dug into his arse, pushing him further and further in so that she felt, at the height of it,
as if she was going to split in two with ecstasy. She was aware, more than she ever had been
before, of him moving inside her - in and out, in and out - and how every time he pulled out her
soul felt vacant and empty until finally, with a deep thrust he buried his face in her neck and
groaned in release. She felt him shudder as he ground his hips into hers and thrusted again and
again until he was finally still, the only sign of life his rapid breathing and the fact that he
still had the strength to hold her.

They stood there for a moment, joined, bodies clammy with sweat, and the magnitude of it all hit
her. “What have we done?” she breathed, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Shhh,” he replied, lifting his head to look at her. “Not yet,” he whispered.

He unwrapped her legs from his waist and settled her on the ground, pulling his wet cock out of
her. He lifted her shirt over her head and tossed it to the ground. “What are you doing?” she
asked, as his hands ran over her naked body.

* * *

*Enjoying the view.*

That was what he wanted to say but he knew that one false step, one wrong word, would send her
out the door in a flash. Now that the frenzy of desire was gone, it wouldn't take long for
Hermione's logic and good sense to return. He wanted to hold that at bay for just a little
longer.

He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her lips, savouring the feel of them for the first
time. She tasted like mint and smelled like peaches. A shudder went through her body as his hands
stroked the soft skin of her hips.

He wrapped a hand in her hair and whispered in her ear. “We didn't mean for this to happen,
but it did. We can't take it back. I don't want to take it back,” he said, kissing behind
her ear. “And I don't want it to end just yet either.” He kissed down her neck to the hollow at
the base of her throat, a hand running up and down her side in long, languorous strokes.

He lifted his eyes to her face. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was slightly open. “Do
*you*?”

She opened her eyes revealing her complete confusion, as if she hadn't heard a word he'd
said. He smirked and ran his hand up to her breast, feeling the hard little nipple on his palm. “Do
you want this to end?”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Good,” he said. He leaned forward, pressing his body
against hers. “Now it's my turn to make you come,” he growled in her ear.

“Again?” she said in astonishment.

“No, for the first time.” He slid his hand down between her legs and began to rub her.

“I hate to break it to you, but you accomplished that goal the first time.”

“You think so?” he asked, leveling an intense stare at her while pushing a finger inside
her.

She cocked an eyebrow and gave him a lopsided smirk. “Yes, but by all means, do it again.”

Harry wiggled his eyebrows and began to move down her body. Her giggle was cut short when his
mouth covered her breast. Her hands went into his hair, pushing his face into her chest,
encouraging him to suck her entire breast in his mouth. His tongue danced around her hard nipple
before he took it between his teeth and gave it a gentle bite. He vaguely registered the squeak she
made as he traveled down past her belly button to what he really wanted.

He parted her lips and ran his tongue across her clit. Hermione slapped her hand across her
mouth to stifle the scream that was bursting for release. She threw her leg over his shoulder and
tilted her hips forward, for which he was eternally grateful. He showed his appreciation by
swirling his tongue around inside her, tasting her, tasting him inside her, hardening at the
thought of being inside her again.

He lifted her other leg over his shoulder, causing her to reach out for the walls to brace
herself, the miniscule size of the bathroom a benefit at last. His tongue moved up to caress her
clit and his fingers returned to delve inside her once more. He felt her tighten around his fingers
and his dick jumped in anticipation. He moved his hand inside her, around, out, back in and around.
He looked up when he heard her whimper. Her eyes were closed and her jaw was clenched. He kissed
the inside of her thigh and gently removed her legs from his shoulders, his hand that was inside
her continuing to move. He stood up and captured her mouth, thrusting his tongue in time with his
hand.

“You're close, aren't you?” he growled in her ear.

She nodded her head vigorously, completely unable to speak. She wrapped a leg around his hip and
he thrust into her as if on cue. Exquisite was the only word to describe how it felt to be inside
Hermione. “What are you doing to me?” he asked, a pleading note in his voice.

She thrust her hips forward and pulled his mouth to hers, devouring him. He felt her tongue run
along the stubble of his chin before she captured it and gave it a suck.

“Do you like the way you taste on me?” He stared at her, thrusting slowly into her as he waited
for her answer.

“Yes. God, yes,” she replied.

“Do you know how good it feels to be inside you? I want you to feel as good as I feel.”

“I do.”

Somehow, he doubted that.

He brought one of her hands to his lips and kissed the tips of her fingers, before guiding it
down between their bodies. Hermione gave him a confused look. “Trust me,” he said, placing her
fingers on her clit, still wet with his saliva, and moving them around.

Her eyes widened slightly and her jaw went slack with astonishment. He removed his hand and
their gazes traveled together to watch her stroke herself. His eyes moved away, back to her face,
in an effort to stave off his urge to pound into her as fast as he could. Seeing the look of
astonishment mingled with ecstasy almost made him lose it. He had to remind himself that this time,
it was about her and, from the look on her face, he'd been right in his earlier assessment.

“You want to scream, don't you?”

She nodded her head, her hand moving in rapid circles. Harry pushed into her and ground his hips
against her as he murmured Silencio. “Now, you can be as loud as you want.”

He continued to grind against her, between deep thrusts. He watched as she let loose a string of
words, one of which he was sure she'd never said aloud before. Her eyes widened, her hand
worked on herself frantically and she bucked her hips against him while the walls of her pussy
clenched around him. Her mouth opened in what Harry could tell would have been, under normal
circumstances, an ear splitting scream. He picked up his pace, pounding inside her with fervor
he'd never felt before and felt himself release inside her for the second time before
collapsing against her.

“Finite Incantatum,” he murmured, and he heard her heavy breathing in his ear. “Jesus,
Hermione,” he gasped, unable and unwilling to withdraw from her, wanting to stay joined with her
for as long as possible, knowing that it would be the last time he'd ever feel her this
way.

“How did that feel?” he asked, giving her a knowing grin.

“Fuck, Harry. How do you think it felt?”

“If you're saying the f-word, I'm guessing pretty good.”

“Pretty good is an understatement.” She ran her hand through his hair and looked into his eyes.
“It's never felt like…I've never…”

“I know,” he replied, pushing a lock of sweaty hair behind her ear.

“You're not supposed to make me feel like that,” she said in a hoarse whisper.

“I know.”

Their eyes roamed over each other's face as if searching for the map to lead them down the
road of their upturned world.

**

I know, I know, I said that I probably wouldn't write any more H/Hr, let alone smut. Well,
apparently I lied. I hope everyone will forgive me for being duplicitous.

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