Special Lessons

Author's Notes: This is unbeta-ed, all mistakes are mine. Raven and Johnson are real people and they are truly v. boring. Thankfully, they did me one good service and gave me this plot bunny. And erm, a really great Pumpkin-Pie-er started it all. And Elia suggested the title ^_^. I'm uploading this because Nappa's been truly nice and patient and wonderful to me, I couldn't say no.

“This is how it happens; First, the vas deferens, seminal vesicles, and prostate contract, sending seminal fluid to the bulb at the base of the urethra, and the man feels a sensation of ejaculatory inevitability—a feeling that ejaculation is just about to happen and cannot be stopped,” Hermione said all these in severe monotone, her face remaining placid and impervious through the whole time. She nonchalantly flipped the page of the muggle book Understanding Biology: Fourth Edition by Raven and Johnson as the thirty pairs, correction, thirty-one pairs, of eyes awaited impatiently for the next part of the lesson.

When the students reach the sixth year at Hogwarts, there would be one day in October when the boys and girls from all houses will be divided into two and each group would be sent towards separate classrooms for a “special lesson.” Today was that day for batch 2008 and just Harry's luck that he should decide to sit in his wife's class on this blessed day. He received quite a shock when she didn't discuss the art of making coat buttons out of ants and instead gave him a very scholarly description of what was happening to him at that moment.

Harry just couldn't remember his own “special lessons” when he was a hormonal sixteen year old himself at Hogwarts being this stimulating. Back then it was taught by Professor Snape, how stimulating could it have possibly been? He chuckled silently as he was reminded of Ron's crack about “getting someone who actually knew what he was talking about.” The little joke inside his head helped drain away the growing redness in his face. He wanted to relax himself a little bit before getting up and leaving the room; he wasn't about to walk out of the classroom with a bulge in his pants.

But then she stood up, wand in right hand while her left hand held a page of the book in place. Her lips began to move and he just couldn't get enough of it. Every time she begins to talk about something interesting, he gets this intense urge to kiss her, to hold her, keep her close and not let go. That's a lie though, it's not just every time she begins to talk about something interesting; it's simply every time, it's *all* the time. It's when she's sitting beside him on the couch, when she's eating dinner in front of him, when she's lying in bed beside him, when she's miles away at work. She was a constant prayer to him; it doesn't matter if she's an ocean away or five inches from him, or if he's immersed in work or just thinking about her, he would always get an intense urge to kiss her, to hold her, to keep her close and never let go.

And there she was, giving him a play by play demonstration of the inner workings of his penis whenever she touches him, sensations he was sure he'd never known until he became hers. It elicits a rather different intense urge. It was over; he will have to ravish her on the professor's table in front of her class.

“And that is all for today. Tomorrow we shall continue our lessons with human progeny,” she said, giving them all a very civil smile.

Harry pulled his chair closer under the table as the students filed out of the classroom. He was quite certain they were giving him very curious looks and became too preoccupied at trying to hide his flushed face that he didn't notice Hermione coming up to his table.

“Hello Harry. I hope you didn't find today's lessons horribly boring,” she said with a puckish grin as soon as all the students were out of the room.

“Oh no Professor Granger, it was quite interesting,” he said, rubbing his nape lightly.

“Just quite?” Hermione whimpered jokingly with a pout of her mouth. She sat down on the table in front of Harry and leaned back, pushing her left palm flat on the wood to balance herself as her other hand reached for the top clasps of her robe.

“Alright, it was enormously interesting,” he said as his hand went to her knee while the other stroked her cheek.

She turned her head to kiss his palm before speaking. “That's much better. Now tell me Harry, are you hiding anything under your table? Because I don't like it when my students bring their toys to class.”

Harry let out a snort and an abbreviated “Come here,” before pulling Hermione to his lap as she gave a squeal in surprise. He didn't even give her a chance to talk before he crushed his lips on hers, feeling her tongue with his as his hands reviewed the geographic alignments of her body. Harry continued to loosen the clasps on her robe and when he has finished with them, he began working on the buttons of her blouse. He reached inside, forming his hands that fit perfectly on the cup of her breast. He tore his mouth away from hers, allowing her to take a breath, and began sucking on the supple skin at the base of her neck.

“I'm embarrassed to admit this,” she said in husky breaths, “but it's always been a fantasy of mine to make love to you in this room.”

Harry smiled against her skin. This was one side of Hermione that will forever remain a secret, and he couldn't think of a more glorious blessing when she chose him to become her secret-keeper.

“That's what I'm here for, love,” he said as he traced the line of her jaw with kisses, “to make your fantasies come to life.”

His hands traveled from her breasts down to the hem of robes. His hands went underneath, squeezing themselves between her thighs. He gently massaged her inner thighs before moving up to its true destination. He grabbed at her already soaking knickers, pushing them away so he could stroke her labia. She gave him a muffled moan before burying her head at the juncture between his neck and shoulder. He let one finger slide inside her, then two, then… “Oh my god Harry!” she screamed, but not in the context that was expected,

“What's the matter?” he asked her, her outburst abruptly cutting his rhythmic pattern.

“The door's still very much unlocked! Someone could just walk in on us!” she exclaimed, waving her hand towards it.

At least one of them was careful. He reached for her wand inside her pocket robes. Pointing at the door, he whispered a locking spell. He turned back to her and asked in mock seriousness, “Now will you let me get back to work?”

“Gladly,” she said, giving him a mischievous smile. She stood up and lifted the robes from her shoulders and pushed them down her back, letting them fall down in a tumble on the floor. She swung one leg across his lap, lifting her skirt up to her knickers, and straddled him. Harry locked her face in his hands, pulling her in a long, arduous kiss. Her hands pulled at the hem of his shirt and she pulled them over his head quickly, trying not to break their kiss for too long. She began playing with his male nipples, pushing them between her long, slender fingers.

His hand went inside her blouse, stroking her tummy a while before going to the small her back and down her left cheek and squeezing. She gasped in his mouth and he could feel that little smile of pleasure she gets whenever he does that to her. She began to work on his trousers and soon he was free of the obtrusive bondage. He felt her hand go around him, stroking, teasing, grabbing. She touches him and he ends up singing. Her lips began tracing kisses along his neck down to his chest and her legs began sliding off his lap. He hitched his breath as he prepared for what was to come. Soon she was on her knees, and soon he was in her mouth.

He threw his head back as Hermione continued her voyeur on his lone reproductive organ. She was so good at this, she just knew him so well, knew when to lick, when to nip, when to suck. That's Hermione; know-it-all.

His pulse began to quicken and he felt the blood rushing south. He pushed his hands against either side of the chair as he felt the first signs of his orgasm coming to him. “Hermione, that feels so good,” he said in between moans.

She gave the length of his shaft a final lick before coming up to his face, and giving him a quick kiss. “I know; that's why I'm doing it.”

He pulled her head down once more, kissing her deeply. His hands went up her skirt once more and he tugged almost desperately at the waist band of her knickers. He pushed them down to mid-thigh and she helped him along the way. He grabbed at her hips and lowered her down to his awaiting member.

Hermione stayed statutory for a moment, just wallowing in the sensation of having him inside her. Then she began moving up and down as he matched her strokes, languorously at first with each successive stroke increasing in speed and in force. Harry buried his head on the hollow of her breast, nipping at the white swell of skin peeking above her bra.

“It's in the way,” he breathed to her. She immediately understood as she reached for the clasp on the front. As her breasts tumbled down freely, Harry quickly devoured them, suckling on one and fondling the other.

“Harry,” he could hear her moaning huskily in his ear. He could feel her thighs tightening and knew that she was close to coming. She lifted his face from her breasts, bringing his eyes to look at hers. She has a sheen of sweat on her forehead, her cheeks glowing with a soft blush.

“I love you so much,” she says in a faint whisper.

And he comes undone.

And they sat there for a long while, him inside her, just wallowing in the sensations of being one.

~Six Years Later~

“This is how it happens, you see, well, um—there's a mummy,” Harry stumbled the words out, rubbing the back of his neck lightly.

“Well Daddy, there's a mum and what comes next?” asked Madeline Potter, her inquisitive green eyes staring up at him.

“And there's a daddy and then the daddy and the mummy make the baby,” he told her with an awkward smile.

“But how?” she asked as she flipped her long, sleek brown hair down her back. Harry could never thank the heavens enough that his daughter had beautiful hair.

“Well, the mummy,” he began as he tried to fish for words to tell his daughter. But he was thankfully interrupted when Hermione walked in the room holding a pitcher of lemonade in one glass and three glasses set on a tray on the other.

“The mummy what?” she asked smilingly as she put down the tray and the pitcher on the coffee table. She placed a kiss on Madeline's temple and another one on Harry's.

“Our little pumpkin is asking about the baby question,” Harry explained to her, ruffling his daughter's hair. Sometimes he truly believed that if it weren't messy enough, no one would see the resemblance.

“Probably wondering how this happened,” Hermione said, rubbing her stomach fondly. “Well, let's see now, like your Daddy said, there's a mummy and a daddy.” Harry pulled Hermione to sit on his one leg while Madeline claimed the other.

“And the mummy and the daddy loved each other very much,” she continued.

“Like you and Daddy?” their daughter asked sincerely.

“Like me and Daddy,” Hermione nodded, “And there was just so much love between them that there wasn't enough room. So this love poured itself into another beautiful soul, like you and that's how our little pumpkin was made.”

“That's a load of crap,” Madeline pouted, crossing her arms tightly across her chest.

“Madeline!” Harry bellowed at her, “Where'd you learn to speak like that?”

“Caleb,” she answered him proudly.

Harry sighed and Hermione had an “I-knew-it” look on her face. “Reckon we should have never let her play with Malfoy's kid?” he said to his wife.

“He's Ginny's child too,” she reminded him.

“Caleb says he'll help me make my own baby,” Madeline continued.

Harry's eyes widened in horror and Hermione's face was halfway between shock and amusement. “There is no way a Malfoy will help a child of mine get a baby!” Harry said to Hermione.

“Love, they're just children, they don't exactly know what they're talking about,” she answered with a laugh.

“I bet you Malfoy's kid does,” he answered stubbornly.

“Don't worry Daddy, I told him no because he's mean and he wouldn't lend me his coloured quills,” Madeline assured him with the tone of an adult five year-old.

“That's my girl,” Hermione said as she tucked a lock of hair behind Madeline's ear. Her daughter beamed at her proudly.

“Ahh, my two precious girls right here with me,” Harry said as he gently nuzzled Hermione's neck, “nothing could make me happier.”

Hermione smiled softly, “Not even a precious little boy?”

Harry stared at her, his green eyes radiant with delight, “A boy?”

Hermione nodded and they shared a smile between them.

And the three of them sat there for a long while just wallowing in the happiness surrounding them.