The Sweat of a Gladiator
A/N: Okay, so I deserved a little grief for ending the last chapter on cliff's edge, but really…did some of you really think I was planning on leaving Hermione high and dry? Of not having Harry and Hermione attain a smutty happy ending? Oh, ye of little faith….
Disclaimer: Not my characters, no money being made, etc. etc.
Chapter Seven
Hermione sat by the lake under her favorite study tree and welcomed the bracing November rains. It helped, of course, that she had cast a new and improved "bubblebody" charm; such were the benefits of being the smartest witch in her generation.
What the charm didn't help was the disappointment in herself. She'd worked hard that summer to develop a bubble big enough for three people (as their Horcrux hunt had sent them deep sea diving in the North Sea), but completely forgotten about the charm that morning. Had she cast that bubble rather than apparated away when they fell into the poison, then Ron wouldn't have swallowed the poison, and Harry wouldn't have shagged somebody else.
But the important thing was that Ron was now safe. Focusing on that fact helped improve her attitude as she sat by the lake. She even turned it into a calming Machiavellian mantra: "The ends justify the means…The ends justify the means…The ends justify the means." But then her thoughts shifted from Ron to Mr. Phoenix, and the mantra evolved from "The ends justify the means," to "He bends me over just before I cream." And that lovely thought filled her mind so well that she failed to notice Harry's approach. Until, that is, he threw an opened box of condoms onto her lap.
"Did you mean to drop those?" he asked. "Because Poppy was thinking you might have been trying to make an anonymous donation."
Hermione looked down at the box, then turned towards Harry as he plopped himself down on the wet grass. She smiled and shifted the dry bubble of air to cover him. "Dare I ask why the box is opened?"
"Oh, well…sorry, but we needed to use a few."
"What, did Ron suffer a relapse?"
"Oh, no, nothing like that…Mr. and Mrs. Weasley didn't have the slightest idea what they were. I was too embarrassed to tell them the truth, so I passed them off as muggle balloons."
"And?"
"And Mr. Weasley wanted to see some inflated."
"Oh my… and just how did you explain away the lubricant?"
"Muggle toothpaste."
"Did you have to demonstrate that as well?"
"Thankfully, no."
Hermione smiled, despite herself, and then asked, "So how is Ron doing?"
"About as well as could be imagined," Harry replied. "He was actually lucid for a bit, until Luna whispered into his ear about the hag's deal."
"Was he upset?"
"Hard to say…his face turned white and then he fainted, but I think that was more because of Luna's whispering than the poison…sent the blood from his big head straight to his littler one.
"Hmmm…guess near-death experiences force you to focus on what and who are important in your life."
Harry looked at her very seriously, and said "Yes…indeed they do."
Missing the emotion behind that reply, Hermione tried to continue the playful banter. "Say, why don't you give these condoms to the twins, since we don't need them anymore."
Harry looked at her a bit strangely. "Hermione," he asked, "I know you won't be quite as fertile six or seven days from now, but there's still the risk, right? Unless you fancy a spanking, or changed your mind about doing it with me."
Hermione jerked her head towards Harry and scowled. "Unless I fancy a what? Unless I changed my mind? Oh, that's rich!"
"What are you on about?" Harry asked. He looked at her for a few tense moments then realized why she was acting strange. "Wait a minute," he said. "You don't know what happened, do you?"
"What's to know? You were pressed for time, Ron needed the antidote, so you shagged Luna and Susan collected some shaggy sweat…no doubt rubbing much more than that blade across your bum."
Harry's heart raced as Hermione's misconceptions confirmed his realization. He broke out laughing, which caused Hermione to punch him in the arm. "Ouch…Hermione…Luna and Susan didn't do anything, and…and you're jealous, aren't you?"
"What, me? Jealous of what?"
Harry shook his head with a grin that stretched across his face. "Here you were, all business-like, acting professional. Making the noble sacrifice for Ron when you volunteered to shag me, and then you played with your nipples, and wanked me off…and all that time you weren't doing it because you had to, you were doing it because you wanted to!"
"No! Don't be silly!"
"Of course you did...that's why you were sitting out here in the rain wading knee-deep in angst…you, Hermione Jane Granger fancy me, and the thought that I might have shagged Luna or Susan nearly killed you."
"Might have shagged," she asked with a shaky voice, "you mean that you didn't?"
Harry reached an arm around Hermione's shoulder and pulled her body close enough to lean his forehead up against hers. "No, I did not."
"Then how did…Ron's still got the…I don't understand."
Harry thought for a moment about how he might explain the deal he brokered or Susan's hypothetical story. "I'm afraid you still might not, even if I told you," he explained. "It would sound too implausible." He then gave her a quick kiss on the lips, stood, and pulled her up onto her feet. "You didn't happen to bring the pensieve back with you did you?"
Hermione nodded absently, all of her focus on the tingling within her lips. "Got the bottled memory as well."
"Good, because I need to show you something."
"Should we head back to the castle, then?" she asked.
Harry gave her hand a squeeze and smiled. "Ron's going to be stuck in the infirmary for a few days…why don't you and I head home?"
Her mind racing at what might have happened now that what she feared might have happened didn't happen, Hermione nodded, then let Harry lead her out beyond the castle's anti-apparition fields.
+++
Harry and Hermione had been shocked when Kingsley Shacklebolt had brought word earlier that summer that the muggle Prime Minister wanted to hear their opinions on the fight against Voldemort. The P.M. had described his disappointment with Fudge and Scrimgeour, and offered Harry the discrete but full support of Her Majesty's Muggle government.
And so it was that the "home" that Harry and Hermione apparated to was a thirteenth-century stone tower located within the Tower of London's curtain wall. The "Salt Tower" was one of the many smaller towers clustered around the "Tower" proper. Muggle Londoners considered it haunted (it was supposedly too frightening for even dogs to enter). But the government had encouraged that story, as the Royal Family's entire collection of magical objects had been transferred there after the last Goblin rebellion. While none of these objects were very valuable on their own, over the years they had collectively raised the ambient magical energy of the area to levels far above background. This high background masked the use of any magic (short of unforgivables) from the Ministry's remote sensors. It was, therefore, an ideal hiding spot from both magical enemies and muggle trespassers.
They lived in the top half of the tower, above where the magical inventory was stored. While access to this part of the tower consisted of trap doors and ladders, it was easy enough to apparate in and out (though Ron still complained of the side-arming). The lack of muggle utility services wasn't a problem either; the magical tent that they had pitched on the bare stone floor was roughly twice the size of what they'd used during the Quidditch World Cup, and provided very comfortable living quarters.
Harry and Hermione appeared with a small "pop" just outside the magical tent flaps. Harry ducked inside to retrieve the small wooden table he typically used to support the pensieve, then called for Hedwig (who had turned the tower's cap into a very nice home for herself). By the time Hermione had used the loo and found Crookshanks, Harry had already arranged for Dobby's help, enlarged the pensieve, and readied his wand to extract the memory that he wanted to share.
It was a procedure that they'd developed over time. Harry hadn't realized until he had inherited Dumbledore's pensieve just how rare a magical object it was. Smaller pensieves capable of projecting memories above the bowl were common enough (it was for this type of pensieve that Hermione had built her remote control). But few were capable of drawing the viewers directly into the memory, as Harry had done so many times with Dumbledore. This was due, in small part, to the risk that was taken each time a wizard or witch dove into a memory. The process was a very limited form of astral projection; the mind was transported into the pensieve, while the body was left behind. Within a memory, a witch or wizard had little contact with the physical world; their senses limited primarily to touch. This left the person vulnerable to an attack. You could always pull yourself out of a memory before it finished, but if you didn't recognize the danger until you felt the pain of a hex, you might well be dead.
It wasn't surprising that, given this exposure, Dumbledore had rarely let his pensieve out of his well-guarded office. To compensate for Hogwart's wards, Harry and Hermione had enlisted the aid of both of their familiars. Hedwig and Crookshanks were their eyes and ears, and had magical connections with their owners that could (if need be) break them out of the memory. Dobby's presence was added insurance; while he couldn't pull them out of the memory himself, he could quickly explain the situation if their familiars ever did.
When Ron was with them they usually projected the memories (as Pig wasn't any more reliable a sentinel than delivery owl), but whenever it was just the two they preferred to dive (as you could see far more and in far greater detail from within the memory).
When everyone was in place, Harry dumped the memory into the pensieve and swirled it with his wand, saying the incantation that would draw them into the memory. As he felt himself being sucked into the bowl and past the streaming bright lights he reached out for Hermione's hand. That they could hold hands within a memory (and often did, given how scary some of them had been) while their physical bodies weren't touching was one of the many things about the whole process that had caught his curiosity, but he had never really explored.
They landed feet on the floor in a corner of the Headmistress's office (that was another curiosity - the fact that they weren't supposed to be physically affected by objects within the memory didn't stop the memory-floor from providing solid footing). Harry had started the memory just as he and Luna had flown through the window. This meant, of course, that they soon had to travel with memory-Harry when he flew down to the Quidditch pitch for some sweaty exercise. When Hermione started to experience vertigo from all of the twists and dives and inverts, she closed her eyes and buried her face in Harry's chest. With a few minutes of memory time to kill, Harry decided to explore some of his questions with Hermione as he wrapped her in his arms.
"Hermione?"
"Yes Harry."
"I know you probably have your eyes closed, but can you feel my heart beating?"
"Sure…let me guess, you're going to claim it's from the snuggling rather than the flying."
"Well actually, it is. I can't really feel the wind whipping through my hair, but I can feel your warm breath on my t-shirt, and when I nestle my nose in your hair I can smell the lilac and myrtle fragrances from the shampoo that you use."
"So?"
"So do you think that the warmth, and the touch and the smells are real, or just inside my head?"
"Well…unless you managed to stick your nose into my hair back at the tower, it has to be inside your head…or more like inside a combined head, since we're on this trip together."
"That's what I was thinking as well. It feels sort of like a shared dream, only with parts that we can control."
"What do you mean?"
"Well…I can't change the altitude of that sloth move I just completed in my memory, but I can change the altitude of my hand down your back, and grab your…"
"Hey!"
"So tell me Hermione, did you just feel me grab your arse?"
"Of course I did you prat, and I suggest that you move that hand northwards unless you want me to…"
"Ooof!"
"…want me to squeeze your testicles any harder than I am right now."
"Okay, okay, truce…think that we'll have to ask Dobby when we go back whether he was forced to watch us cop feels."
"I doubt that he's seeing anything other then our stationary bodies."
"One way to find out, don't you think?"
When Hermione agreed, they pulled themselves out of the memory. As expected, they found themselves standing apart, and Dobby stated that neither of them had moved from their trance-like stance.
"Really, Dobby?" Hermione asked, as she gazed over at the front of Harry's pants. "You didn't see any body movement at all?"
Dobby blushed and he stammered a bit before confirming that half-way through the process Harry had developed an erection.
"Get off on flying, then, eh Harry?"
"No, no, no…no more than I do at the thought of Susan's ta-ta's. It was our embrace, and the smell of your hair, and the feel of your ar…"
"Alright, I believe you," Hermione said with a bit of excitement. "No need to go swear another wizard's oath."
Harry smiled, then suggested that they return to the memory. Hermione agreed, but only after he retrieved the old one and replaced it with a shorter memory that began Harry after had finished flying.
Once back inside Harry's memory, the two held hands and let the scene play without comment until Susan started talking about spell-spanking.
"Why that little witch," Hemione muttered.
Harry smiled to himself, as Hermione's grip on his hand tightened. "Something wrong?"
"You might be a clueless teen-aged boy, Harry, but she isn't."
Harry watched as Susan jiggled and wiggled her bum on his alter-ego's lap. "No, that's clearly evident, but what does that mean?"
"It means that she knows that she's trying to take what isn't hers!"
"Oh." Harry didn't dare ask the obvious follow-up question.
"Hey!" Hermione shouted, "Stop that you bitch!"
"Erm, Hermione…you know she can't hear you shouting, right?"
"Yeah, but it makes me feel better all the same."
They had just past the point where memory-Harry more or less admitted to having an erection in the Headmistress's office when Hermione asked, "So does the thought of spanking Susan's naked arse really excite you, Harry?"
"No."
"Then why did you get hard after she was talking about it?"
"Because she was rubbing that arse against me the whole time she was talking!"
"So it was only a physical reaction, huh?"
"Yeah."
"Huh…wish I could totally believe that."
"Oh, Hermione," Harry said with exasperation, "what is it going to take for me to convince you that the only spanked arse I could even think about getting off on is yours?"
Hermione snorted, then said with a bit of sarcasm, "Oh, Harry, that's so romantic."
Harry whipped around to face Hermione, grabbed her free hand, and rammed it up against his crotch. "Tell me Hermione, am I hard right now?"
"Erm, no, not really."
"But I just heard Susan talk about her sticky finger play while her roommate spanked her silly, right?"
Hermione realized where Harry's line of questioning was taking her, and agreed with his conclusion even before he voiced it - a teen-aged boy could get hard from a clothes dryer if it was vibrating hard enough. Noticing that her hand was still trapped against his crotch, Hermione began to massage it lightly. "Yes," she purred, "and your point?"
Harry closed his eyes and held his breath for a few moments before opening them and staring right into Hermione's. "You know my point, Hermione…you're feeling it right now."
"Yes, it is getting rather pointy, isn't it?"
Harry looked down and noticed that both of Hermione's nipples were hard and straining the fabric of her shirt. He let go of Hermione's hand, and without dropping eye contact reached up and cupped the sides of her breasts, so that each thumb was directly over a nipple. That caught her breath, and as he ground each thumb in clockwise rotation he simply noted,
"So are you."
Hermione simply nodded in reply.
"Harry?" she said softly.
Yes, Hermione?"
"You're blocking my view of the memory."
Harry smiled and softly snorted at the same time.
"I think that I can fix that."
And before Hermione knew it Harry was behind her, his left arm firm against her chest as his right hand snaked down to her belt buckle. Harry buried his face in Hermione's hair, with gentle nips against her neck as his left hand squeezed hard on her nipple. His right hand snaked up inside her shirt and he began to lightly scrape her skin with his fingernails as he ground his crotch up against her backside.
As Hermione ground back against Harry and tried to control her ragged breath, Harry put his lips up against her ear and whispered a question.
"Can you see better now?"
Hermione whimpered and she nodded her head.
"Do you want me to stop distracting you?"
Hermione shook her head no.
While memory-Harry began talking with the hag, excited-Harry dragged an index finger along the top of Hermione's knickers. He thought that he'd gone too far when she pulled his hand away, only to discover that the only problem was that her other nipple needed his attention. So he deftly switched hands, and when Hermione undid her belt buckle and undid the top button of her jeans he knew where she wanted him to go.
Teasing her without mercy, Harry oh-so-slowly pulled the zipper down to its base. Drawing the flap to the side with the back of his hand, he softly placed the palm of his hand against her knickers. His thumb pulled down on the elastic band just enough to expose a thin band of pubic hair, which he began to play with lightly.
Every coo, every sigh, and every gasp from Hermione's mouth calmed Harry's fears that he was doing the wrong thing, and ruining what he had with his best friend. Every rotation of her hips as she ground up against his erection confirmed that she felt the same way that he did. And when he placed his hand against her knickers and felt how wet they were…
"Please, Harry!" Hermione whined as she once again grabbed the hand that was roaming down there. This time, though, she drew it up only to the top of her waistband, in open invitation. Harry obliged, and Hermione let out her loudest gasp yet as he buried his hand inside her knickers.
This was the stuff of Harry's dreams, but only his dreams. Traveling in virgin territory (both for him and for her), it took some time, some patience, some gentle guiding, and lots of positive reinforcement before Harry found his rhythm. When Hermione showed just how appreciative she was by reaching back and grabbing Mr. Phoenix, it was all Harry could do to keep his control.
Well, actually, it was more than he could control, and he proved it with a warm and sticky release inside of his pants.
Hermione smiled to her self as she brought her hand back and refocused her attention on the magic Harry was performing within her pants. She bore down on his hand, closing her eyes and clenching her teeth, as Harry tried hard to give her what she had just given him. With their attention thus focused, neither noticed as memory-Harry tossed the antidote to Madame Pomfrey.
But they could help but notice when the completed memory started to pull them backwards.
"Nooooooooo!!!!" Hermione cried out. She'd been so, so close……
+++
When Harry regained his senses he immediately noticed several things:
They had awoken apart, but both on hands and knees;
They were both panting;
Real-Hermione's nipples were rock hard, and her face flushed and sweaty;
Dobby was looking at them both with dumbfounded amazement; and,
The front of his trousers were rather wet.
They looked at each other, both wondering if what just happened had really happened (and if so, on which plane of existence). Harry then turned to Dobby and asked if he had seen any physical contact while their minds had been traveling. Dobby replied no.
He turned back to Hermione, and asked, "So what do we do now?"
Hermione looked over at Harry, and at his stained pants. Looking up and catching his gaze, she squeezed her thighs together tightly and rocked back onto her heels.
"Harry," she finally asked, "did anything just happen in there that you wouldn't want to have happen in real life?"
Harry gulped, then turned and said, "Erm, thanks for your help, Dobby. We'll take it from here."
Dobby, whose eyes couldn't have gotten any larger than they were just then, nodded with a small smile and disappeared with a small "pop."
Harry then looked back towards Hermione, and with all of the love and sincerity he could muster, simply said, "No."
Hermione nodded as she rose to her feet. She then reached out for Harry's hand, and when it was given started to lead him to their tent.
"Well, then," Hermione said with a smile, "I believe that you have some unfinished business."
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A/N: The Muse wanted me to ask if all of the readers that wanted to throttle her last chapter were happy now.
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