Just a little fic I came up with that I'm writing at two in the morning. I'm trying to update my other story but until then I hope you might like this rushed, little piece of drabble that is quite cute. I mean really, how many of us has had this thought?
Please Review even if it moves you just a little!
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I hate shaving my legs, thought Hermione for the millionth time; it's tedious, never ending, and besides being clean, there is no good reason for this much labor.
She found herself once again in her bathroom connected to her Head dorm that she shared with Harry. Harry was out with the rest of the quidditch team preparing them for the match against Slytherin tomorrow, and he wanted them to be in their best shape. With his absence she decided it was as good a time as any to begin the tiresome task of shaving her legs.
I've only been doing this for five years and it feels like an eternity.
Rinsing the razor one last time she put it away with the rest of the toiletries and rubbed her milky legs with some lotion and stared down at her finished work.
What's the point? I'll only have to do the entire thing over again tomorrow. Giving a sigh she turned her thoughts to a comfortable evening of reading by the fire.
Stopping by her room she picked up one of her favorite books, threw on some pajamas and continued to the dorm's common room and proceeded to become lost within the pages. The portrait hole opened a while later, giving access to a tired but quite handsome looking Harry. He promptly sat down on the sofa next to Hermione and gave a sigh of relief.
"Tough practice?" She asked without looking up from her book.
He nodded, "Long more than anything else, but we should be ready for tomorrow. You're coming to watch aren't you?"
This time she looked up, "When have you ever known me to miss a match, especially when both you and Ron will be playing."
He chuckled, "Just checking. I'm going to get cleaned up." Rising he headed off in the direction of the bathroom, where Hermione heard the shower blast.
Fifteen minutes later Harry emerged from his room wearing a pair of boxers and t-shirt with a towel wrapped around his neck. Picking up a book from the stacks on one of the tables he resumed his seat next to Hermione, lifting her legs so they would sit in his lap and started reading.
Sitting like this during many evenings, Hermione didn't mind, especially when he massaged her feet, but after a half and hour of being enraptured in her book she noticed Harry was doing something he'd never done.
He was stroking her legs.
She looked at him and he appeared to be quite interested in his book and seemed to be stroking her legs subconsciously.
Not that she minded.
It was a terrific feeling, his hand against her soft legs, his thumb going in a circular motion as he went up and down.
Hermione closed her eyes and found she was enjoying the feeling a little too much.
She let out a slight moan.
Looking up from his book, Harry asked "Did you say something, Hermione?"
Catching herself she replied, "No, no just tired is all. I think I'll head to bed. Goodnight Harry." She swung her legs off of his lap.
"Night, Hermione." He leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
They had kissed each other on the cheek many times, always platonic, but this one felt different, Hermione noticed.
It felt warmer.
She almost flew to her bedroom, once inside she proceeded to jump into bed.
Why does Harry touching my legs make feel so warm and so… happy?
She couldn't figure out the answer to the question and decided not to worry about it. Falling asleep, Hermione had anything but a peaceful night's sleep as every dream seemed to involve Harry touching her in certain places.
Waking for the fifth time with her cheeks flushed and a little too warm for her liking, she figured out an easy solution.
I just won't let him touch my legs anymore, that's where all this got started after all. No touching, no problem.
Unfortunately this was harder than she thought.
They found themselves in the same position the next night and the night after that, always Harry stroking her legs, and always Hermione too weak and enjoying it too much to pull away.
After a week of this pleasurable torture Hermione came to another startling conclusion.
She was falling in love with Harry.
She had always cared for him, maybe more than a friend should, but never put any stock into it. But now with his constant touch on her mind and the feeling of only wanting to be around him intensified she realized she had actually fallen in love with her best friend, without even knowing it.
She decided to take some action and so the next evening when they found themselves in their usual position, Hermione put down her book and asked Harry,
"Why do you do that?"
He looked up from his book with a confused expression, "Do what?"
"That, rub my legs."
He immediately stopped his hand from what it was doing but didn't pull away, "Sorry, I didn't even realize I was doing it. Your legs are just so soft that's all."
She reached for his hand and moved it gently up and down her legs, "It's ok, I like it."
He put down his book and began rubbing her legs again, "Good"
She looked into his eyes and saw something, something she hadn't noticed before. It took her a moment before she finally placed it.
Love.
It was the same look that she had been told she recently had crossing her face whenever she and Harry were in the same room.
She gave a small gasp and Harry smiled.
"Finally." He whispered. He leaned over and kissed her fully on the lips.
Hermione didn't move for moment, surprised at what he was doing, but soon shut down the questions flying through her mind as she kissed him back, letting him push her onto her back so he was on top of her.
By now his hand was rubbing its way up her leg, making sure to touch ever bit of flesh it could. While his other hand was preoccupied with burying itself within her hair.
This kiss soon deepened with Harry's tongue probing Hermione's welcoming mouth. His hands roaming her body, touching all that he could, while one of her hands was placed firmly on the back of his head and the other continued to wander his back.
A passion rose out of both of them that neither had really felt the true extent of before and while it slightly scared them it also excited them, making the kiss that much more thrilling.
Staying like that for quite sometime, little moans and gasps were elicited from each other, until they were forced to pull apart for wretched air.
Hermione gently pushed him back, "Wait…wait a minute." She said breathlessly.
He let her push him back but said, "Hermione, I've been waiting. Waiting for you to realize just how much I care about you.
She smiled at him, "I'm sorry it took me so long. Guess I'm not really that clever."
He cupped her face, "You're very clever, and very beautiful." And kissed first her lips then her exposed neck.
"Harry" she whispered.
"Do you have any idea how much I care about you, Hermione?" He asked
She rose up slightly to kiss him and replied, "I think I have an idea."
Harry smiled and pulled her into another kiss. This one was slow and less urgent. Pouring every emotion he had into it, trying to let her know that he didn't just care for her, but loved her. She kissed back in need, letting him know she returned his feelings, that she always had. Again their hands roamed, enjoying the new territory they had been itching to search.
Pulling back once more, Harry rested his forehead against hers and smiled. "And I'm not that sorry that I kept touching your legs. They're just so damned soft. Like your lips." He leaned down and kissed her again.
Before she was completely taken in by the kiss she smiled as one thought crossed her mind,
Finally, a good reason for shaving.
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