Taste

KateJ.

Rating: NC17
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 4
Published: 06/08/2003
Last Updated: 13/08/2003
Status: completed

Is Harry imagining things? Does he care?

Chapters

1. So It Begins

2. Ice Cream

3. Rain

4. Eggnog

5. Cake

6. Toothpaste

7. Air

8. Skin and Soup

9. Epilogue

1. So It Begins

Taste

by: Kate J

1/9

Rating: NC17 Shagging O'Plenty

Ship: H/Hr, of course. Is there another ship?

Summary: Is Harry imagining things? Does he care?

Spoilers: None

Author's notes:

1. This is one of those stories where it's fine to either leave it alone or add too it. I haven't decided if I will yet. This is from Harry's PoV. I should mention this is the very first fanfic I've ever written. So yay! Happy first fanfic to me! That said, this could totally suck. I haven't spell-checked it and I basically wrote it down on a series of napkins. I kinda like that I didn't tinker with it too much. But hopefully grammar/spelling mistakes won't be too annoying.

2. I am a sinner. I admit I will not be one of the 177 thousand saved when Jesus comes back. I've accepted this. So please don't flame me if the story is too graphic for your (insert religious preference and/or ignorant selfrighteousness here) sensibilities. I will simply talk bad about you to everyone I know. It's freakin Harry Potter fic, man. It's all in good, naughty, fun. This is smutfic, so be warned. You all know the disclaimer song nope, not mine... JK... Scholastic... no money being made, etc. You don't have to review, but thank you muchly if you do. :)

~*~*~*

So It Begins

~*~*~*

Come with me.

The 3 single most dangerous words in the English language, I'd decided. When she grabbed my hand, I went happily, completely oblivious to what she had planned. It was Hermione, after all.

The broom closet was small, but I was still just an innocent boy at the time and had no idea what was about to happen in that small space. Some of these shelves are small, I thought. Maybe she needs me to reach something for her.

Such an innocent boy. Until I felt IT. Then I was innocent no more.

Thinking back, I must have looked like a deer caught in the headlights. It's not everyday Hermione Granger is unbuttoning my Quidditch pants and looking at me as though I were dessert.

I swallowed hard and my eyes were like saucers. My mouth kept flinching but I couldn't muster what to say.

Whoa…wha...Hermi..., was all my brilliant mind finally came up with. She stepped very close to me, her face right next to mine, her eyes looking directly into mine. Her hands were still on my pants. She raised a thin finger to her lips.

Shh, she silently whispered as she grinned at me. My jaw was still open and I wasn't sure what to say. I swallowed hard. It was all I could do.

What are you doing? Are you insane? What is she doing? Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, said that idiot in my mind. Of course, he shut up the second she grabbed me. I mean, really grabbed meB skin to skin.

There was still this innocent, naive part of me that had no idea what she was doing. Maybe she accidentally unbuttoned my pants? Any second she's going to back up and say something very Hermionelike, such as, 'Oh sorry Harry, I thought that was your pocket. I was trying to give you this study guide. My apologies.'

But nope, nothing. Not a word.

My brain was Freaking. Out. Eventually my body just took over told my brain to shut the hell up. She sort of pushed me back and I leaned into the large wire rack behind me.

Wait...what is she...

Oh! My! God! What the hell is she...oh...oh okay, okay, okay. Oh wow. Oh my...

I looked down at her head, feeling her tongue doing all sorts of things around me. I wanted to say something, but she had shushed me a moment ago. It was like some big secret or something that she just wanted to do and I was just supposed to shut up and enjoy it. Who was I to argue with that? Do what you have to do, Hermione. I'm happy to help. I grabbed my hair in frustration and smiled.

Hermione...Hermione Granger...is giving me a blowjob.

I couldn't believe it was happening. I should've stopped her or something. Or something...oh wow that feels good.

DO NOT use her head as a steering wheel, no matter how much you want to, I told myself. Don't move anymore than you need to or she might stop. Oh God don't stop Hermione. Fight the urge to push forward. Fight the urge to moan.

I'd never even gone to second base with a girl in my seventeen years. Not that I didn't think about it, or even have prospects. It was just...weird. There weren't many girls at Hogwarts that were just normal around me. They all seemed to be...weird. I don't know. There were plenty of nights I woke up from some nice dream and thought that I wouldn't mind being some trophy prize, the Boy Who Lived, for some girl if it meant I'd be the Boy Who Got Laid.

What's wrong with me? Why am I thinking about this now?

I moaned louder than I'd intended to. Oh no! I thought, looking down and hoping she hadn't heard me. But she didn't seem to mind my moaning. She just didn't want me to talk. None of that loveydovey crap that people feel they have to do. No rose petals on the floor or candles or dumb music that's supposed to get you in the mood.

I was always so nervous about all of that stuff. Like, when I'm about to have sex for the first time, what do I do with my shoes? Is there a way to take off your socks in a sexy way? I just don't think there is. This was great. No drama or tension. Just do it, shut up, and enjoy it.

Wait...what is she doing with her...oh...oh my, oh what...

'OW!', I thought, while I tried not to say it out loud. I think she got the point. Teeth... damn. The twinge of pain disappeared as her tongue swiveled around the spot she'd accidentally grazed.

I'm going to explode. I know it. She's so warm and soft. My legs couldn't hold me against the rack which was digging into my back anymore. By body betrayed me an pushed my hips forward. I couldn't help it- it was like this primitive thing that I had no control over. I could feel a rush of adrenaline pumping through my stomach and legs, readying me to explode.

Hermione. Hermione Granger. Hermione, Hermione, Hermione, Hermione...

I moaned a little louder this time and I softly touched her head. That hair that seemed more wild to me now than bushy. And wild is good. Very, very good.

I felt it happening, this thick gush letting go, in short spurt at first then more constant. I could feel my face going goofy. My eyes shut tightly and finally I froze up, letting that glorious feeling go through me and enjoying it.

She stayed there for a minute and I didn't know what to do. Do I say something now? Oh my God. Oh, this is embarrassing. What do I say to her?

Wait...why am I embarrassed? She's the one who gave me the blowjob. But I'm the one with the stupid look on my face. All I could do was stare at her with this shocked look on my face as I tried to catch my breath. Maybe I should say something. Do I tell her thank you? Do I..

Hey, where is she going??

She just stood up and licked her lips as she smiled this satisfying little evil grin at me and raised her eyebrow. She fixed the front of her skirt and wiped her knees from the dirt on the floor. Suddenly she was Hermione Granger again, as if nothing had happened. She turned to the door and cautiously turned the handle, peeking around, making sure no one caught her. And then she was gone.

WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!

I finally just sank down to the floor and looked at my dick. I smiled. Did that just happen? Did Hermione Granger really just give me a blowjob?

See, there was this part of my brain that would always keep Hermione 11 years old forever. The idea of her giving fellatio to anyone, nevermind me, was almost enough to drive me to drink. Why did she do it? What was special about today?

We'd just lost our Quidditch match. To Hufflepuff. No, let me say that again: to Hufflepuff. Yeah. YEAH. That was a kick in the... ego. We were all pretty depressed about it. Suffice it to say, Ron wanted to give himself the Avada. He'd gone off to sulk in our room while I went to the Great Hall to eat my troubles away. I hadn't even bothered to change. I just went straight to the Hall and found Hermione there. She was reading, of course, and hadn't been able to attend the game on account of helping Professor McGonagall with a Transfiguration project. It was just as well. The game was horrible and embarrassing. I told her all about it and she offered her condolences. It was all very 'Harry and Hermione'.

Maybe she wanted to cheer me up? She did a wonderful job of it, if that was her goal. But I suspected that she did it more for herself than for me. I laughed and snorted as I leaned back against the wall.

Hermione Granger wanted to give me a blowjob. Maybe she was experimenting and knew I wouldn't mind helping her out? Maybe she was practicing for someone else? That theory caused a growl in the back of my throat that I wasn't ready to think about. Maybe she just wanted to get laid and this was the way she approached it.

It was kind of sweet, really.

After I'd managed to go back to a normal shade of white and I was sure little Harry was all set to go, I left the closet and went back to the common room. That was when I was hit with the worst case of jitters ever. I was so nervous about seeing her after all that had happened that I stood outside the common room door for about 15 minutes. Do I say something? Do I kiss her? Did she tell anyone? Do I tell Ron?

I decided 'no' on all counts and finally just jumped into the deep end. I can do this. This isn't a problem. In fact, I hope she's there. Just get it over with. Yeah, I really hope she's there.

She wasn't there. Thank God. I went straight to my dorm and took a shower. I knew I'd see her at dinner, whether I wanted to or not.

It was the most frightening experience I'd ever been through. Facing Tommy Riddle was going to be a cinch after facing Hermione in the Great Hall. She was sitting there, across from me, talking to Ron as if nothing had happened. She turned to Seamus and asked for the salt, laughed at one of Ron's jokes, even looked right at me and asked me about homework for Trelawney as she always would.

I must have had a strange look on my face or something because Ron kept asking me if I was okay, and I just kept nodding. There wasn't even a glimmer of acknowledgment about what had happened earlier. I kept looking over at her searching for any sign that she did, indeed, do the deed. But she never flinched. She was acting so… so... normal. How could she act normal when not 2 hours ago that mouth of hers, which was now wrapped around her fork, was then wrapped around me doing all sorts of wonderful and naughty things? C'Mon Hermione, give me *some* sort of sign...

Nothing. Nothing for 2 weeks. I was convinced that it had all been a beautiful, beautiful dream. A very vivid, wonderful hallucination brought on by the stress of losing to Hufflepuff. It had to be.

At first I thought she was putting up a front because we were in front of people. But even in the offchance she and I were alone together - in the common room at night, the library during the day, the Great Hall in the morning before Ron joined us- she wouldn't give me any sign that it had actually happened. And I didn't have the guts to bring it up first.

Then, just as I was starting to really believe it hadn't been real, she smiled at me in Snape's class.

It wasn't her normal smile. It was the 'we've got a secret, we've got a secret' smile she'd given me that day in the closet. My smile, reserved for me alone. I looked at her and heard 'Hallelujah' blaring in my brain and felt a glimmer of hope that I wasn't, in fact, nutters.

Later that day, I was walking down the corridor to the Owlery to send Sirius a letter when I felt a strong pair of hands pull me back. She was smiling at me with that smile again and my whole body responded immediately. She took my hand and pulled me along the hallway to a door.

The room was tall and had very tall, long etchedlooking windows overlooking the Quidditch pitch. The sun was starting to set and there were long orange rays coming through the windows, looking thick with dust. This was the old Quidditch supply room. Now they seemed to have treated it as an attic, throwing everything old and unusable in here. I walked forward a bit, leaving Hermione behind me and looking around.

Old Quidditch brooms and first year training brooms hung against the walls. Tattered old quaffles and broken beatersticks lay all around the room. There were old Quidditch uniforms for all 4 houses hanging up and some were all wrinkled up on the floor. Over in the far corner were about 15 or so different size snitches. Looks like they've only gotten smaller and smaller over the years.

There were old books stacked up around the room, all tattered, dusty, and worn. This room seemed to be in the corner of the castle. Being part of the castle towers, the ceiling was circular, tall, and pointed. It was the room time forgot. Leave it to Hermione to find it. It was quite beautiful really with the sun's orangered 5 o'clock rays passing through.

I turned back around to Hermione. She was planted to the ground just looking at me with that look. 'Please let her do it again!', I'd thought, greedily. It was all I could think about and all I wanted to think about.

Then she moved.

She was walking toward me quickly and I stood my ground staring at her. Okay, just be prepared. She's going to do something. I'm ready, I thought.

She looked like she was going to walk by me but, instead, leapt into my arms, kissing me fiercely. As if I had the answer to a test in my mouth. I pushed her against the wall, letting the wall support most of her weight, and kissed her for all she was worth. It was our first kiss. Kisses.

She wrapped her legs around my waist as I pushed her harder into the wall, old brooms falling to the floor around us with *clink* noises. She could feel me hard against her, I knew it. And I knew that very moment what we were about to do. I just knew. I wasn't even nervous. Socks? What socks?

I knew not to say anything. That was our deal.

I swung her around, kissing her, looking for a more comfortable place. But she was pushing up against me and I ended up back in another corner, tripping over the snitches. They immediately leapt up and starting whizzing around the room slowly, much slower than the modern snitch. I didn't even glance. I was too busy lifting Hermione's gray sweater up.

The snitches were still flying around, the sun catching them and causing little gleams of gold to shadow all around the room on the walls and all over us.

I unbuttoned my robe and let it fall. I untucked her shirt and slid my hand across her soft belly. I let my fingers dip quickly into the waistband of her skirt, pulling her toward me as I took her mouth again. Quickly, I pulled her tie loose and off and then unbuttoned her shirt and slid it back, feeling her shoulders, then her arms as it fell down behind her.

I got down on my knees in front of her to undo her skirt. She ran her hands through my hair. I grinned and slid my hand quickly up her inner thighs and quickly back down again. Just quick enough to tease her and it worked - she smiled with her eyes closed. With her skirt button and zipper undone, the skirt fell loosely around her ankles. I stood back up and looked her in the eye. I didn't dare ask her if she really wanted this. I knew she did.

I was going to make a fool of myself. I had no idea what I was doing.

'Don't worry. She doesn't care. Just have fun,' my brain told me. But I looked at her anyway, looking for some sign that this was really what she wanted to do. It only lasted a moment and she grinned at me with this look that I can't quite describe. At least I couldn't then.

I whipped my own sweater off. She grabbed me by my tie and pulled my head to hers as she kissed me deathly again. Her hands were all over my hair. I couldn't imagine, nor care, what it would look like by the time we were done.

She pulled hard on the tie as it slid around my neck and fell to the floor. She stepped back for a moment and grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled hard, sending buttons flying everywhere. She hadn't intended it, but it was great. I was breathing heavily already, but seeing her rip my shirt open like that...I'd almost come undone.

The shirt fell to the floor as I picked her up again and kissed her. I felt possessive holding her that way. I felt strong.

I walked toward the middle of the room, almost sending us both to the hospital wing when I tripped over a stack of books. I just avoided getting hit by a snitch and fell back onto the floor with her. She took advantage and moved her legs on either side of me. She was straddling my hips, pushing herself against me. I don't think she even realized she was doing it. It was like a reflex.

Every nerve in my lower body was charged and sending jolts of adrenaline to my nether region. We broke apart with a mutual sigh and she pushed back a bit, rubbing her hand over the front of my pants. My hips jerked up instinctively. She unbuttoned and pulled them down as I pushed up a bit to help her along. I was completely ready.

She rolled back a bit and sat up on her knees. For a millisecond, I had a moment of sheer panic that she was coming to her senses and was going to leave. But she just smiled a little shyly and undid her white bra. She wouldn't look at me. I laughed to myself.

As if she had anything to be embarrassed of.

She pulled down her underwear quickly and moved back to straddle me. I think I was so freaked out that I was actually about to have sex that I couldn't really appreciate a fully naked Hermione.

And, by-theway, we both still had our socks and shoes on. How completely insignificant.

But I knew then to take a mental snapshot of Hermione naked for later viewing, with her knee socks and shoes on, crawling toward me with a Cheshire grin on her face and a little pink in her cheeks.

All thought left my brain when I felt her, Her, on me. I hadn't pushed in yet. She was just sitting on me, looking down at my eyes. My hands went to her hips, instinctively wanting to push up and in to her. She rubbed herself against me and it felt amazing. But her breasts were too tempting and I ran my hands over them, not really sure what she liked but deciding to do what I liked until she told me what to do herself. She didn't seem to mind what I liked in the least. She draped her hands over mine on her chest and pushed her breasts harder into the palms of my hands. Her hips moved and I could feel her sliding over me.

Did she not realize I was a 17year-old male? We don't have that much control. It takes years of training to hold out to that kind of torture.

I closed my eyes. Snape in a dress. Hagrid in a dress. Hagrid and Snape together in a dress.

In the corner of my mind I could hear a few snitches whizzing by us and I could see gold shadows glimmering on the wall every so often. It was beautiful. And I could have cared less.

She finally sat up and slowly pushed me in. I knew not to move. It was her first time. It was mine, too. I forced myself to try not to move. I had one hand behind me, holding me up from the floor and the other hand wrapped itself behind Hermione's ear and pulled her mouth to me.

I kissed her hard and slow, my tongue massaging hers until I found that taste I didn't realize I'd been craving.

I slid my hand down from her cheek and back down her spine until I felt her finally start moving against me. It felt like forever. I leaned back down to the floor looking at her. Her eyes were closed and we were trying to find a rhythm together, but it was clumsy. Wonderfully clumsy. She looked like a cheesy romance novel right then, with the orangered sun making her look all...beautiful and such. The dust was so thick through the light I was pretty sure we'd be covered in it when we left. She'd tucked her hair behind her ears and behind her back and she finally opened her eyes once she'd really gotten used to the feeling of me being inside of her.

I don't think I'll ever really get used to this. Hermione. Now is not the time to laugh, Harry. Any thoughts of laughing were soon gone when I looked at her face. She was staring at me with this look that just floored me. It was enough to interfere with my breathing, really.

I ran my hands over her belly, circling her belly-button. I looked down and saw myself inside of her and jerked hard. It was pretty much the sexiest thing I'd ever seen in my life. It turned me on in a way I can't even describe.

I moaned. It came out as a hard grunt. I sat up again and kissed her neck. Her hands went into my hair again and she moved against me a bit harder. I placed my hands behind me on the floor to hold myself up as I moved and pushed up inside of her, harder and faster.

I was going to come any minute now, and I knew she was getting close. She was gripping me harder inside. We were both panting at this point. She ran her hand over my face, grazing my scar, over my glasses, then down my cheeks to my mouth where she lingered softly, going back and forth over them with her thumbs. It was affectionate. Her eyes started to flutter as her head fell back a bit and I could feel her starting to go. So I let go. And we both let go.

She made a noise that can only be described as primitive. I don't think she realized it. These were the only noises we were 'allowed' to make in our silent agreement, I'd realized. Thank God; I couldn't hold mine back any more than she could.

In all, it lasted about 10 minutes.

My forearms were shaking from the weight and gave in to the stress. I lied back down on the floor and Hermione fell forward to me, her head on my chest. The sun had just about set, and the room was now darker. The snitches were still fluttering around, although we couldn't really see them as well as we had when we first arrived. She sat up and smiled at me, her wild hair falling in front of her face a bit. There was that grin again. Her eyes were barely open and she looked a little drunk.

Like I was one to talk.

It took a moment for me to pull out. She went very slowly, and afterward she leaned back down onto my chest and I could feel her breathing slowly. She rubbed her hand up and down my ribcage. After a few minutes, she looked up and I could tell she was thinking the same thing as me: we're going to get caught if we stay her much longer. We both gave a resounding sigh.

She got up slowly and crawled over to her underwear. I snorted softly. After what we just did she was acting a bit embarrassed to be putting on her underwear in front of me. She'd gotten almost completely dressed before I'd even been able to get the feeling back in my legs. I sat up and pulled up my pants. I couldn't stop grinning.

She finally put her sweater on and finger combed her hair back a bit. She looked back at me and walked over to where I still laid. She knelt down and took my face in her hands. Then she kissed me with one long kiss and rubbed her fingers over my mouth again before she stood up and left.

And that's how it's been for the past 3 months. The past 3 wonderful months. It started out happening 2 or 3 times a month, then once a week. Now it's an every other day thing. I'm starting to feel like that isn't even enough. And through all of it, we never speak. Not once have we ever spoken during or about it. It's like an unspoken agreement to stay quiet. To go back to normal once we leave whatever crawlspace we'd ventured into. And it's perfect, really. We don't need to speak. There are times I want to say something, I'm not sure what but just something. Her name. Anything. But at the same time, I feel like the second one of us says something, the spell is broken an it's over. This short time that's been so amazing and silent will be over. It's just fun and wonderful. Completely wonderful and the time we spend together means more to me than anything. I don't even question that it's the same for her; I know it is. But if we go and change it in any way - it will just be ruined. Neither one of us want some sort of relationship disaster, or to read about our shenanigans in the Daily Prophet. A big part of why I'm happy with the arrangement is that if anyone...bad...knew what she meant to me, they wouldn't hesitate to use her to get to me. This way, no one gets hurt.

Right?

What she meant to me. That was a loaded statement. We're just having fun.

Right.

Two friends experimenting in a fun, nonjudgmental, completelyateasewitheachother way. It was great. It was just what we needed.

And she's breaking my soul.

Let's get off this train of thought before I go and ruin everything.

Now, for the first time, I'm going to initiate it. I'm nervous. She's always been the one to initiate and I always felt like I shouldn't- she should stay in control of it. But I want her so badly today that I can't stand it. Saying I'm horny is an understatement. I need her. In a 'want her badly, need her madly' sort of way. It's all the time now.

She won't mind, I know she won't. I'm starting to understand her body language better than anything she could or would ever say. As silent as we are, we say more in the hour or so we're together silently than when we're talking in the common room.

She'll be on top of me, and we'll be riding completely in sync with each other-we've gotten very good at this. It was very clumsy and awkward at first- and I'll push up and explode inside of her. We'll just sit there for a minute looking at each other smiling languidly. Those moments are more powerful than hours of talking.

One time she jumped me, literally, in a broom closet outside of Snape's class. She was insane. She pushed me in and jumped on me. Practically ripped my pants open and pulled her underwear down. I pushed into her and she was riding me hard for about a minute before I felt her already starting to go. Horny wench. There was no pretense about what she wanted that day. I was happy to oblige, but I was also bruised for about a week. I don't question that need… we just understand each other when it comes to this.

It's still strange to think of Hermione wanting to get laid. I guess there'll always be that part of me that sees her as that little smartass on the train. She always will be. But not when I'm with her like that. Then, she's absolutely the woman I feel her as.

She comes down the dirt path and I watch her approach. She's absentmindedly reading her book. She walks past me and I make sure no one is looking before I grab her arm. She's startled at first, then she smiles. I pull her to me hard and kiss her.

I pull her into the woods a bit, where no one would see us. She knows what I want. I grin at her and push her back up against a tree. She casually drops her book to the ground beside us and raises an eyebrow quickly.

I hold her hands behind her back with one of my own. I use my other hand to sneak up under her skirt and pull her underwear down. I wish she'd stop wearing these damn things. They just get in the way. I let go of her hands in order to undo my pants.

I stare at her with a satisfied grin as I do this, and I see her flush starting. I know what she likes. She likes to see me go all manly. When I push her harder, grab her, look at her like I am right now...she gets all red and I can feel her getting excited. She likes seeing me confident. I wasn't at first. I was so freaked out for the first 2 months; I was scared I would do something wrong, or do something stupid and turn her off. I've come to realize that she really likes me to be confident. So pretending to be confident actually helped make me more confident, if that makes sense. Now I make it a point to undress in front of her, not to shy away from it but stare right at her. I make a point to grab her a bit harder and stare at her when she turns, or grin at her and stare her in the eye when I push into her every time. She gets off on it. She likes seeing me take charge. I think it makes her feel desired. She likes that I want her as badly as I do. It's a very caveman/cavewoman thing.

Of course, it's all a façade. It's all her. She's in complete control. I'd gladly do anything she asked of me. I'd give her all of my money, all of my time… Hell, I'd give her my Firebolt if she asked it of me. When I think about what I'd do for her, the lengths I'd go to keep this… I'm pretty sure this is why some men go insane.

I pull her arms up because I want them around my neck. She looks around a bit, making sure we are, in fact, alone. I pull her legs up around my hips and she feels me against her. I rub for a moment, just letting myself enjoy the slickness and I feel her try to push herself on me. I grin and drive straight into her as we both groan. I'm not gentle, nor am I slow or sweet. This is a fuck. It's just what I wanted. Just like she did that day in the broom closet when she attacked me. There is nothing behind it. I just need her.

I needed this today. It's just been one of those days where everything everyone says and everything around me is sexual. Little Harry is getting way too greedy.

I ground myself into her, over and over, all the way to the hilt. I wasn't even pulling back anymore. I was just sort of pushing forward. I felt her inside, her walls squeezing me and I could feel myself contracting. I came, furiously, shooting into her with abandon. I could feel the warmth all around me and filling her.

When I was done, I continued slowly pumping, just enjoying the aftermath before my legs finally gave out. Still inside her, I turned us around and slid down the tree. I just couldn't stand anymore. She started moving fast on me and ground herself on to me. I could feel her constricting inside and she began to lose control. She leaned forward and began rocking hard and unevenly, coming hard and fast. I loved watching her face.

I always liked coming first. I got to sit back and watch her with more brain cells this way. There's something altogether amazing knowing that you can make someone feel that good. That you're the one who actually makes them make that funny face, or whip their head back, or groan like she does. I love that I can do this.

It was over. I just stared at her for a few minutes. She stared back. It was a tug of war. She won. She always wins.

She slowly got up and stumbled a bit on her wobbly legs.

Yeah, I like that I can do that, too.

She grabbed her book and fixed herself up before she leaned down and kissed me on my forehead. I caressed her hand as she left. She forgot her underwear so I took them. I'll give them back next time.

I stayed there for a little while, just enjoying the quiet of the December trees. The sun was shining and the wind was blowing softly but it was uncharacteristically warm for December.

It was a beautiful day.

::Sources/References::

I always listen to music to inspire me. I set my player to play Secret Garden by Bruce Springsteen over and over until I'd finished the love scene in the Quidditch room. That song is sweet and sexy without being syrupy. The kiss they share there was inspired by the first kiss Diane Lane has with that hot French guy in 'Unfaithful' a very hot movie and one of the best film kisses I've ever seen.

2. Ice Cream

Taste

by: Kate J

2/9

Rating: R - Shagging O'Plenty

Ship: H/Hr, of course. Is there another ship?

Summary: Ice cream is good.

Spoilers: None

Author's notes:

1. A shorter chapter. But fun all the same. I originally intended on this being in Hermione's PoV. But I had too much fun playing Harry. Maybe another chapter. Remember that grammar/spelling issues are my own laziness. Try not to judge too harshly.

2. I am a sinner. I admit I will not be one of the 177 thousand saved when Jesus comes back. I've accepted this. So please don't flame me if the story is too graphic for your (insert religious preference and/or ignorant self-righteousness here) sensibilities. I will simply talk bad about you to everyone I know. It's freakin Harry Potter fic, man. It's all in good, naughty, fun. You all know the disclaimer song- nope, not mine... JK... Scholastic... no money being made, etc. You don't have to review, but thank you muchly if you do. :)

~*~*~*

Ice Cream

~*~*~*

My plan was to make her beg.

Even if it was just with her eyes, I wanted her to beg, dammit. I was always the one begging her with a look. She'd have all the power and I'd just go along with it. Well, not tonight.

We'd snuck down to the kitchen at about midnight. I'd left her a note in her Transfiguration notebook.

Common room. Midnight. - H

She met me there wearing nothing but my (I should say Dudley's) old button-up gray shirt. It was huge on me and practically went to her knees. Seeing her wearing my clothes made me feel wanton. She'd commandeered the shirt a few days ago when we'd gone to Hogsmeade with Ron to do some Christmas shopping. She got cold an I gave it to her to cover up. I never got it back.

I didn't mind. I was wearing jeans and a black t-shirt. Easy to get in and out of and that's all that mattered.

I saw her sitting on the sofa, one knee up with her chin resting on it. She was staring at her kneecap, rubbing over the scattering of freckles there. I startled her as I hugged her from behind the sofa, my hand taking hers. She smiled up at me and I kissed her forehead.

I grabbed my cloak as we made our way to the door. This damn thing came in handy. I interlaced our fingers as we quietly walked down to the kitchen.

The cloak was off as soon as we turned the light on. I walked her over to the large wooden island in the middle of the prep area. I picked her up by her waist and sat her upon it, stopping for a second to move in and kiss her quickly. She smiled. I kissed the back of her hand absentmindedly before I moved away to the refrigerator. She just watched me and crossed her ankles comfortably.

I pulled out the ice cream. Chocolate. I went over to the counter area and opened a few drawers until I found a collection of spoons. Then I searched a few cabinets until I found a bowl and some toppings.

I scooped out the ice cream and covered it with chocolate jimmies, chocolate sauce, raspberry sauce and whipped cream. A lot of whipped cream. I smiled.

It was a sundae Ron would be proud of.

I took the spoon and the bowl over to Hermione who was full out smiling, and laid it beside her. I unhooked her ankles - tickled her feet for good measure - and stood between her legs. I smiled at her and winked. I swirled the ice cream in the spoon and took a bite. Mmmm. I nodded my head looking at her, affirming it was delicious.

She flicked her tongue out at me in a suggestive way and smiled. She hooked her ankle behind me, pulling herself closer to the edge and me closer to her. Before I'd swallowed it all, I leaned into her mouth and kissed her, my tongue hitting hers and mixing with the chocolate.

It was a great feeling. Feeling the cream swirling around my tongue while I shared it with her. It was...intimate. Nice.

I took another small spoonful and fed it to her. She moaned a little when she tasted it. The raspberry sauce was a nice compliment to the chocolate. She raised her eyebrow at me, looking greedy for another bite. But I took the next one, much to her dissatisfaction. She gave me that grin of hers, that grin that said she was up to no good, and leaned forward. She slowly licked the side of my mouth like a cat.

I was a little dizzy.

I raised my eyebrows at her before I swept in for another kiss. The ice cream gushed a little down the side of my mouth as I kissed her.

I leaned forward and grabbed her face in my hands, greedy and determined. In doing so, I dropped the spoonful on ice cream straight in her lap. She jumped at the cold. The spoon fell to the floor with a solid *clang* and the ice cream itself was starting to run down her bare leg.

She leaned over and grabbed a hand-towel and looked down at herself, about to start wiping the sticky mess when I grabbed it from her hand. I wanted her begging, pleading…aching for me. So I looked at her with my eyebrows raised as I laughed and shook my head negatively, throwing the towel across the room. No, no, no, I thought. There are much better ways to clean up.

I touched the sides of her legs and bent down. I kissed her leg just beside the ice cream, then licked it off. I moved lower down her leg until I'd gotten all of it. I looked up and saw her eyes closed and her head back, her hand was in my hair. I smiled. I started back up the inside of her leg kissing and licking every inch until I was happy she was clean. Then I pulled her forward as much as I possible could and kissed her inner thighs. I moved the shirt up and saw she wasn't wearing underwear. Guess she was tired of them as well.

Damn, she was groaning. So much for taking it slow. I stood up as rubbed my way back up her legs and kissed her full on the lips, grasping behind her knees and pulling her against my groin. Her arms locked around my neck instinctively and I pulled her off the island and down onto the floor with me.

No. No, this plan can be salvaged. I can do it. Be a man, dammit.

I pulled my tongue away from her mouth and placed her flat on the kitchen floor, running my hand down her clavicle and over her stomach until I grasped the hem of her...my... shirt. I pulled it up and looked at her. I touched just where her abdomen met her legs, in that crease there leading down to the holy land. Then I touched lower until I felt her wetness in my fingers. I stared at her for a moment before taking off my glasses, grinning, and moving down.

One good turn deserves another.

I wasn't quite sure how to do this. Where did I start? Oh well. I just dove in and kissed her the way I wanted to. I felt her buck up beneath me. My still cold tongue was doing wonderful things to her. Oh yeah, she's liking this. I kissed her inner thigh in order to grab a breath. Good lord, how do you breath doing this? After a minute I resumed my torture.

I kissed and licked and rubbed and groaned against her for all she was worth. I wanted her insane. And from the way she was moving and moaning, I was getting my wish. Finally, I felt her about to come when she stopped. She was eerily quite and still suddenly. I thought maybe I'd done something wrong. I was just about to sit up when she bucked and she came. Hard. Really hard. I heard her scream. Scream like she hadn't ever done before. I hoped to God no one heard us. The kitchens were far from just about everything so there was very little risk, but still. All we needed was a house-elf to come running in and then start beating itself in order not to tell anyone.

I rubbed my tongue above her opening and she squeezed her legs around my head. Her whole body was trembling as she was coming down.

Yeah, I own you. Your mine.

I crawled back up to her face and hovered over her, waiting for my reward. She still hadn't opened her eyes. I moved close to her face and just leaned my forehead against hers. I placed my hands on the sides of her neck, just softly rubbing the skin there.

C'Mon, open your eyes, Hermione. Let me see the defeat. Hold up the white flag and surrender.

But she didn't. She just reached up and grabbed my hand. She brought it to her mouth and kissed my fingertips. She finally opened her eyes. She looked directly at me. I sighed.

God damn it.

It's so unfair. How can she look at me like that? Like she can see my thoughts. She makes me so crazy when she looks at me like that and she knows it. She wouldn't stop. She just looked at me like she was trying to use telepathy. We just stayed that way for a few minutes. I looked at her face, memorizing every freckle.

As if I hadn't already.

I looked into her eyes, knowing I'll lose the staring contest but I look anyway. No matter how bad anything could get, I can always come back to this place with her. This place right here.

So this is what it feels like to be completely in love with someone?

Whoa.

Just whoa.

Hold on there.

Where'd that come from? Oh, Harry, what are you doing? This is just fun, isn't it? You've never had a relationship. You're not in love with Hermione. For God's sake you don't even speak to each other when you're together. There's got to be something wrong with that. You aren't in love. You're in lust. You're in a constant state of arousal. You're in love with having sex with her. That's all.

Who are you trying to kid?

Oh man. Shut up. What do you know anyway?

I looked away from her. When I looked back up, I knew. I knew she knew. She knows I'm in love with her.

She rolled us over and straddled my hips. I couldn't look at her. I could barely see her without my glasses anyway. She pushed my hands to the floor and held them there as she kissed me. She pulled the shirt up over her head and pulled on the hem of my black t-shirt and pulled it up and over my head. She grabbed both shirts and shoved them under her knees. The floor was pretty hard.

She opened my pants and took hold. Oh God...she guided me into her and began to move up and down, back and forth. I felt her burning inside and she was really squeezing me tight. She began bouncing pretty hard on me. I was so ready.

Yeah. I was ready.

I sat up and maneuvered us so that I was leaning against the island with Hermione in my lap. I loosely wrapped my arms around her waist and stared at her. I won't fight it. I've got my hands up-- I surrender. Yeah, I'm in love with you. I know you love me. I don't even need to question it. I know.

I pulled her chest to mine and gave her my best man's-man stare. If I was going to lose, I was going out with a bang. I pumped up into her and felt the familiar tingle of goosebumps going up by back that told me I was about to come. I was breathing heavy and sweating at my hairline. She ran her hand down my torso and rested them on my stomach, balancing herself.

Uuhh, she moaned. I loved hearing her moan. I loved making her moan.

I grabbed hold of her hips and began to really pump. 3, 4, 5 more times and I was emptying. I felt myself stiffen and aim into her. Then I moaned and leaned my head back against the island as I came down.

Some time later and still connected, I felt her lean over for something. She grabbed my glasses and put them on for me. I rubbed my hair back and ran my hand to the back of her neck and brought her forward for a sweet and quick kiss. She leaned over again and brought over the spoon that had fallen to the floor forever ago. There was a bit of melted raspberry sauce in the middle. She swiped it with her finger and licked. I twitched a little inside of her. She smiled and took the last swipe of the raspberry sauce and offered it to me on her finger. I leaned forward and sucked it off. We stared at each other for a while longer, just enjoying the peace of being together like this. It felt like a gift.

I wasn't ready to think about the repercussions of my earlier thoughts. I don't think she was either because we just sat together eating the rest of the ice cream and snogging ourselves silly. I just wanted to enjoy the few moments we had, here in this place.

One thing is for sure, though... she definitely tastes better than the ice cream.

::Sources/Inspiration::

I listened to La Cienga Just Smiled by Ryan Adams and Colorblind by Counting Crows for the ice cream scene. That was slightly inspired by my favorite show Alias.

Weak For LoveB Yeah. That's a great freaking song. It just says sex and love and obsession. Good inspiration.

Lover's Spit by Broken Social Scene. Just find it. Own it. Listen over and over. Love it as much as I do. It's the perfect song for any love scene.

3. Rain

Taste

by: Kate J

3/9

Rating: R - Shagging O’Plenty

Ship: H/Hr, of course. Is there another ship?

Summary: Getting serious.

Spoilers: None

Author’s notes:

1. I really had no intention of writing more than that first chapter. I just wanted to get out of my block. But alas. This is a shorter chapter, but hopefully fun all the same. I originally intended on this being in Hermione’s PoV. But I had too much fun playing Harry. Maybe another chapter if I continue.

2. I am a sinner. I admit I will not be one of the 177 thousand saved when Jesus comes back. I’ve accepted this. So please don’t flame me if the story is too graphic for your (insert religious preference and/or ignorant self-righteousness here) sensibilities. I will simply talk bad about you to everyone I know. It’s freakin Harry Potter fic, man. It’s all in good, naughty, fun. You all know the disclaimer song- nope, not mine... JK... Scholastic... no money being made, etc. You don’t have to review, but thank you muchly if you do. :)

~*~*~*

Rain

~*~*~*

She was trying to kill me.

It was the only explanation I could come up with as I looked at her in her Yule Ball dress. She was going with Seamus Finnegan. I was going with Susan Bones. Two nice, safe dates. We couldn’t go together. It was just a little too close to that relationship line we didn’t cross. But it was fine. There was no jealousy. We knew we couldn’t go together but we’d see each other after.

She looked amazing in her black dress. When she came into the common room and greeted Finnegan, I couldn’t help but stare. The dress was simple– black with spaghetti straps. Very low in the back. Kind of sparkly. It fit well– really well. Her hair was straight and down. I’ve never known anyone that could look so different with such a simple change. She looked older. She looked great.

“Wow Hermione, you look wonderful,” Seamus said. She smiled at him and said “thank you.”

I looked away and stared back into the fire. In 4 years of going, plus or minus the years I was fortunate enough to face possible death instead, I’d never enjoyed this stupid ball. It always seemed so dumb. It was just a reason for girls to get dressed up and play princess. It was always pretty boring and awkward, at least for me because I’d always gone with a girl I didn’t really want to go with.

I was taking Susan this year. No big deal. But again, I’m not going with who I want to go with. It was almost a joke. I couldn’t wait for this night to be over so I could meet Hermione somewhere and do just what I wanted to do. She snuck a glance over in my direction on the sofa. I leaned my head back against the pillows and just looked at her.

I’m going to miss you tonight.

She smiled and looked away, going over to Ginny. I turned away, remembering last night.

‘Uhhh!’ she’d moaned.

I smiled at the memory, stared into the fire, and looked back over to her as we waited for the rest of the Gryffindors. Back to the fire.

I rubbed her back as she rocked back and forth. Her back was to me as we sat in the library chair. It rocked slightly. We’d never done this. I wanted to. I’d just grabbed her and placed her in my lap.

We were sweating like crazy. We moved very slow, purposely slow. She’d push onto me and I push up. She’d bend forward just the tiniest bit. I stared at her back and her hair and just went along for the ride.

“Hey Harry!” Dean said, coming around the corner interrupting my memory.

“Hi Dean.”

“Who are we waiting for?” Dean asked Ron.

She giggled when I tickled her sides. She turned as much as she could and swatted me on the arm. I kept tickling. She laughed out loud, her hair falling into her face.

“Neville, Lee, few other people.” Ron answered.

I ground her hips against mine, feeling her hands on my knees, balancing herself.

“You look great little sister,” I barely heard Ron say.

We’d fallen to the floor, rolling around with quiet laughter and she kept swatting my hands as I tickled her. She was so ticklish. She tried to squirm away but I pulled her back, finally pulling her hips back to me and entering her from behind again. I think wrestling with Hermione is my new favorite sport. Better than Quidditch, it was.

“Hellllloooo.” I heard Ron say faintly. He’d sat down next to me and was talking to me. About what I had no idea.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Bloody hell, you have it bad,” Ron said quietly.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, a slight panic starting to form in my brain.

“Whoever she is, she’s got you hooked.”

Brain overload. What do I say? Oh God, how does he know??

Ron laughed. “Like it isn’t obvious?” he asked, reading my mind. “You stay out ‘till all hours of the night and try to sneak back in without us hearing you. You always take your cloak. Last week, I found a pair of girl’s underwear in your robes...I wasn’t snooping,” he said, smirking, his hand up defensively. “I grabbed your robe on accident thinking it was mine,” he smiled coyly. “You could imagine my surprise. And every time I look at you, you’re off in your own world. Like the entire day is just filler until you leave at night. You’ve constantly got this,” he pointed at my face. “goofy look on your face. I don’t know who she is, but she’s doing something good to you. That’s for sure. I’m insanely jealous.” he joked.

I couldn’t think. I just stared at him for a minute. Finally, I did the only thing I could think of: I smiled and looked away.

“I knew it!” he whispered. “So who, where? Details man!”

I raised my eyebrows at him. “I can’t. I’m sorry but I can’t tell you. Don’t even ask.”

Ron accepted it but then looked furious.

“If it’s my sister, I swear to Merlin...”

I laughed. “I promise it’s not your sister. But please don’t ask. It’s really good and I don’t want to ruin it by talking about it.”

Ron looked defeated. “Alright. But stop thinking about her constantly. It’s becoming a problem for you.”

I smiled. “Yes. It. Is.” I looked at him. He laughed and walked over to greet Neville. Time to go to the Yule Ball. I thought about her the entire walk to the Great Hall where I was meeting Susan. I was in a bit of a daze.

The library was always a good place to go late at night. We had our little nook in between the tables. There was a chair and a small couch. Filch rarely checked the library unless he had reason to, and he would never come this far in. But my cloak was always handy just in case. It was around 1am, and I sat against the wall reading through a Quidditch book. It was amazing how much the game had changed in the past 100 years.

She was asleep on the floor beside me. My t-shirt was serving as her pillow. This was the first time she’d ever fallen asleep. We never usually stayed that long, but we’d finished so quickly– eager bunny she was– we didn’t want to go just yet. I looked down at her.

We’d talked about the Yule Ball at lunch with Ron, who was taking Lavender. We both had dates. It was strange asking someone out– like I was cheating on her. We knew we couldn’t go together so we did what we had to do.

I put the book down and just watched her for a minute. She’d put her, my, gray shirt back on, but it had ridden up a bit. I had a nice view. I reached above me to the pens, quills and pencils in a little cup on the table. I grabbed a black marker.

With a smirk on my face I bent down, making sure her eyes were still closed, and just below her bellybutton I drew a little arrow pointing to the little patch of hair that I called home.

<— Mine

I giggled. She was going to kill me. I pulled her shirt down so she wouldn’t see it until later tomorrow/today. Hopefully just as she was getting ready for the ball. Just a little reminder.

I walked behind Hermione watching her bare back move as she walked, and I thought about sitting up and kissing her back last night when I was inside of her.

She must have found the thing by now. But she hadn’t shown any signs. I saw Susan waiting at the door with a few of her friends.

“Hi Susan. You look very pretty.” She smiled.

“Thank you, Harry. And don’t you look handsome?” I smiled back.

The night moved on. And dragged on. And dragged even more.

I’d left her a note to meet me here after the Ball. She was taking too long. I kept telling myself it was okay. We’ll have a 2 whole weeks to ourselves as everyone leaves for home over Christmas break tomorrow morning. She and I were the only 2 Gryffindors staying. We could do whatever we wanted for 2 weeks; no need to be so eager.

But I need her now. It’s almost midnight. Finnegan had danced with her and touched her back a few times. It was like I had radar. I wasn’t jealous, really. I knew it was completely innocent. I just wanted to touch her where he had. It was a possessive guy thing, I suppose.

It had been pouring out. It was still pretty warm, otherwise we’d be getting some serious snow. I was drenched walking here. But it was private and dark. I wanted her so badly.

The small caretaker shed housed most of the gardening tools and potions. Most of Filch’s caretaker tools were in here. The only light came from the occasional flash of lightening from the small open window. The only sound was the rain hitting the metal roof. The rain beat in the window and the lightening flashed. The thunder roared. I wiped a bead of rainwater from my forehead.

I heard her approach and stood up. She hadn’t changed yet either. She was still in her black gown and overrobe, soaking wet now. Her hair was drenched. She shut the door behind her. Lightening flashed and she saw me through the room. Water dripped from her hair and around her neck down into the valley between her breasts. She smiled and moved forward to find somewhere to lay, I suppose.

I couldn’t take it. My self-control let me down again as I grabbed her arm, swung her around to me, and grabbed the back of her neck. I pulled her to me in a long, hard kiss that deprived us both of oxygen.

I moved forward and slowly pushed the thick robe down her arms and to the floor. She was so beautiful, just staring up at me.

I ran my hands under the straps of her dress and pulled them down her arms. She turned around and moved her hair, gesturing to unzip her. I did so, slowly, running my thumb down her back as I lowered the zipper. The dress fell to the floor. I stayed there just staring at her for a minute. She turned around and looked at me. She watched me look at her. After all this time she still had all the control. She knew what she did to me.

I moved forward slowly and kissed her softly this time. She ran her hands along the front of my shirt pulling it out of my pants. She pulled me closer. I felt my shirt fall back around me. She stopped kissing me and just rubbed her hands along my shoulders. She was just looking at them, at me, like she wasn’t sure where to start. I liked when she looked at my body. She liked my forearms the best, I think. I’m not sure why. But I catch her looking at them all the time. I didn’t mind at all. I couldn’t hide from her. Just as she couldn’t hide anything from me. I have her memorized... and God was showing off when he made her.

She looked down at my abdomen to the bulge that was begging to come out. She looked back up at me, her face an inch from mine.

That was it.

That was the stare that broke me. The whole world stopped for a minute and everything went silent. I ran my hands all over her. This was the woman I would die loving. These are the hands I’ll be holding when I’m 90. These are the breasts I’ll be looking at in 10 years. This was the belly I’d put a baby into. These were the legs that would still be wrapped around me when I fall asleep for the last time. This is the face I would think about in the last moments of my life.

I slid her underwear down, kissing her stomach, thinking about getting her pregnant one day. I kissed her legs, thinking about them wrapped around me when we’re old and in bed together. I stood and picked her up and laid her down on the floor on my cloak. I looked down at her, her legs spread on either side of my torso. I pushed my pants down and moved forward to hover over her. I needed her to know what I was thinking. I seriously thought about speaking. I didn’t care anymore. I wanted to tell her everything I’d just thought. She really could read my mind, though. She pressed her finger to my mouth and nodded her head. She knew. I didn’t need to say it out loud.

I interlaced our fingers together and pushed into her, squeezing her fingers on the floor each time I pushed. The marker was still there. She didn’t wash it off. I smiled. We just looked at each other the whole time. It was intense.

We fell asleep on the hard floor but didn't care. We were wrapped in damp clothes and were tangled up in each other. I didn't care if it was risky staying the night together there, or that we could be seriously in trouble if any school staff caught us. It felt worth the risk. She was worth it.

We woke up early. The sun wasn’t up yet, but the sky was lighter. We were freezing. The temperature dropped dramatically overnight. I glanced at her laying on her stomach, my cloak draped around her lower body. Her back was exposed. She was sleeping so soundly I hated to wake her. But we couldn’t stay out much longer without really getting caught, no matter how much we wanted to.

I softly rubbed her bare back, over her shoulder blades, feeling the softness there. I pushed her hair aside and smoothed my fingers over her neck. I grazed my freckle, square in the center. A tiny red-brown dot that I’d kissed on many occasions. My freckle.

She began to stir.

Mmm, she growled. I kissed my freckle and she opened her eyes. I tapped my wrist to tell her it was time to leave. She nodded and began to sit up, wiping the sleep out of her eyes. I watched her get dressed, each article of clothing she put solidifying more and more that we really had to get back to the real world.

She left first, making sure it was all clear.

I saw her again before Ron left. We wished he and Ginny a good holiday and said goodbye. It was Christmas Eve. Two weeks alone together to do whatever we wanted... God help us both. Let the games begin.

::Sources/Inspiration::

How to Make an American Quilt- Main Theme. I’m a theme junkie. I love movie soundtracks. I love this one. It’s really, really sweet and I recommend downloading it to anyone who ‘gets it’ and loves themes. I listened to it while writing the sweet library scene. (Sidebar: ‘The Diver’ from this movie is a great theme as well)

Secret Garden by Springsteen again.

The scene where he writes on her is slightly inspired by the movie Unfaithful. He drew a flower on her stomach and I thought that was awesome.

The first kiss in the Filch’s caretaker shed was inspired by the first kiss in the Keanu Reeves movie A Walk in the Clouds. At least, that’s how I pictured it happening. That was a cheesy movie, but god damn it was a sexy ass kiss.

“God was showing off when he made her.” My slightly altered line was from one of my fav movies, Keeping the Faith. I had to throw in some cheesy goodness and this was a good cheesy line.

4. Eggnog

Taste

by: Kate J

4/9

Rating: R - Shagging O’Plenty

Ship: H/Hr, of course. Is there another ship?

Summary: I love you.

Spoilers: None

Author’s notes:

1. My motto with fanfic is, ‘Plot? What plot?’ So suffice it to say, writing anything more than just some fun shagging is surprising. Hope it’s still fun. If you haven’t noticed by now, I’m trying to incorporate a different taste to each chapter. Food, rain, etc. And etc., tee hee.

2. I am a sinner. I admit I will not be one of the 177 thousand saved when Jesus comes back. I’ve accepted this. So please don’t flame me if the story is too graphic for your (insert religious preference and/or ignorant self-righteousness here) sensibilities. I will simply talk bad about you to everyone I know. It’s freakin Harry Potter fic, man. It’s all in good, naughty, fun. You all know the disclaimer song- nope, not mine... JK... Scholastic... no money being made, etc. You don’t have to review, but thank you muchly if you do. :)

~*~*~*

Egg Nog

~*~*~*

I think Ron knows.

Before he left he looked over at Hermione then back at me. He leaned in and whispered, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t... actually,” he paused, thinking about it, “do everything. Just do everything. Cause that’s what I’d do,” he said, grinning devilishly. Fred and George would be proud. I didn’t say anything. I just smiled and wished him a happy Christmas.

I stood in the jewelry shop in Hogsmeade waiting for the shopkeeper to come out with my gift wrapped and ready to go. I thought about this morning after Ron and Ginny left.

We laid on the floor of the common room, just enjoying the companionable silence. Her head was on my lap and she was watching the snow through the window. In one hand I held that Quidditch book I never got to finish, in the other hand I held her breast. She was wearing my gray shirt again. She grabbed my hand and placed it there a while ago. I think she thinks I’m ignoring her.

I am. But not really.

Without looking at her, I remove my hand from her breast as I turn the page, seemingly engrossed in what I was reading. Out of the corner of my eye I see her frown. I keep reading and place my hand back on her breast and squeeze a little.

Hermione, you always have my focus. I smirked down at her, and went back to my book.

I saw her smile and blush. She actually blushed. Yeah, she wants me.

I have a half-naked Hermione in my arms with these wonderful breasts. Why am I reading a book? What kind of man am I? I’ve shamed my gender.

I look down at her and kiss her upside down. I throw my book in the corner. I’ll finish the damn thing eventually. She laughs at me as I maneuver myself around so I’m laying on top of her.

I heard a bell ring when the door to the shop opened, a large gray-haired man walking in and distracting me from my memory. Wanker.

We’d gone as ‘Harry and Hermione’ to Hogsmeade this afternoon. We went to the Leaky Cauldron and drank butterbeer and talked about what we’d each gotten Ron. We talked about having Christmas dinner with the handful of students from the other houses and the professors. We wondered why none of the Hogwarts professors seemed to have close family to speak of. Seemed strange. We talked about the business trip her parents had to take this year. We talked, or made fun of, what the Malfoy house had to look like around Christmas: Dead house-elves hanging from the black and silver Malfoy tree. I’m sure it was cheerful.

‘Harry’ knew what he was getting Hermione. I’d found a first-edition copy of ‘Hogwarts- A History’, complete with bonus and unedited chapters and it was signed by the author. I found it completely by accident, and I knew she’d love it.

But I wanted to get her something for our private times. Something she could open and knew was from me. All the usual stuff popped into my head. Girl stuff- perfume, chocolate, frilly underwear. But nothing seemed very personal. I wondered if she’d be getting me something personal. I’d looked around for quite a while and I was supposed to be meeting her soon to go back to school for dinner. I was starting to panic.

Jewelry. “You can’t go wrong with jewelry,” Fred had said last year. He’d been dating Angelina Johnson for a while and had no idea what to get her. I looked around and finally found an old jewelry store named ‘Knot in the Wood’. The store was a bit strange, tree stumps littering every corner. In each stump lay a different set of jewelry ranging from bracelets to rings to necklaces and strange watches. There were vines hanging from the walls. I felt like I’d walked into the forest. A woman came out from behind a curtain and smiled at me. She reminded me of Mrs. Weasley.

“Hello! Happy Christmas!”

“Thank you. You, too,” I said smiling, looking around.

“Looking for anything in particular?”

“Not really. Just something... personal.”

The woman smiled at me. “For a lucky girl?”

I smiled and nodded.

“Well, I can help you. Tell me, are you not-serious, semi-serious, or super-serious?” She asked a hand on her hip.

“Huh?” I asked, my eyebrows up.

She walked over and put an arm around my shoulder.“The kind of jewelry you buy for a girl should reflect how you feel about her. Trust me, I’ve had many poor souls come into my shop and buy the completely inappropriate thing. They buy rings for girls they’re only semi-serious about. They buy bangles for the woman they should be getting a ring for. Poor guys. The lot of you are very confused when it comes to this type of thing.”

I swallowed, and she laughed.

“Ohh, don’t worry. I’m sure she’ll love anything you get her.”

“Super-serious,” I told her finally. She smiled and walked me over to a large tree trunk with rings and bracelets and very large gaudy earrings. None of these things looked like Hermione.

“I’ll let you wander around. Call me if you need anything. I’ll be right over here,” she told me, winking and walking over to the register. She picked up a large knitting needle and began humming to herself.

I looked around, from trunk to trunk, until something finally caught my eye. I read the advertisement:

‘Consider a REAL charm bracelet! This antique silver bracelet can be charmed to dangle any object that fits your fancy. The perfect personalized gift for that special girl!’

“Excuse me?” I called over to the shopkeeper.

“Found something have you dear?” She asked, walking over.

“What does it mean ‘charmed to dangle any object’?”

“Well, you just tell me what sorts of object you’d like to have on it. I can charm miniature versions of whatever it is. Usually the person chooses something that means something to the girl. One man knew his wife loved spaghetti and I charmed a little tiny bowl with spaghetti in it. It was cute. Some people use ‘I Love You’ as a charm. Or a book, or a favorite animal. You can have up to five. And any charm you want to add after that is extra.”

I smiled. Perfect. “I’ll take it.”

She smiled. “Wonderful!” She passed her hand over the tree trunk and the invisible security barrier wobbled like a water droplet. She took the bracelet and led me to the front of the shop. “Now tell me, what charms you’d like to have?” she asked, grabbing a quill and parchment.

I thought about it. “A snitch. A spoon. An arrow,” I paused, thinking. “A garden trowel.” I grinned. She looked at me a little strangely. She wouldn’t get it.

“And one more,” She told me.

“A heart.”

She smiled at me. “Will that be all?”

“Yes, that’ll be all, thank you.”

“Okay, I’ll go start on this and you can inspect it before the final sale, alrighty?”

I nodded. “Sounds good. Thank you.”

She left to the back of the shop behind the curtain. I looked around the shop as I waited, looking at some of the most enormous and hideous necklaces I’d ever seen. Why would anyone buy something like that?

Something kept catching my eye, but I kept ignoring it. Stick with the safe gift, Harry, I told myself. But I couldn’t help but keep going back to look at it. It was perfect. It was the one I’d buy, if I were looking for that type of thing.

No, no. You got the bracelet. It’s a really great gift. She’ll love it. That’s all the trouble you need to cause for yourself tonight.

“Okay...here you go. Take a look and see if that’s to your liking. Anything can be changed so speak up if there’s something you don’t like.”

I held the delicate bracelet in my hand. The arrow, the snitch. The little trowel. The heart. I think I loved the little spoon the best; it looked exactly like the spoon from the kitchen. It was beautiful.

“It’s perfect, really. Thank you so much. She’ll love it,” I said, handing it back to her.

She smiled. “Oh good. I hope so,” she said, placing the bracelet in a long, thin, black box. The silver was a sharp contrast. “Let’s go ring you up then, shall we?” I nodded slightly.

“Unless of course you found something else you can’t leave without?” she asked, her eyebrow raised. She must have seen me looking in the other trunk. She didn’t say anything else, she just rang up the bracelet. I paused before digging into my pockets for more money.

“Actually, there is something else...”

***

She sat in the tub, her hair tied in a ball above her head and her eyes closed. She’d come up here to take a bath before dinner, but I wanted to see her. I wanted to bother her.

I snuck into her room quietly holding the 2 goblets of egg nog I’d pilfered from the house-elves. I couldn’t get the picture of Dobby wearing a Santa hat four sizes too big for him out of my head. Poor, sweet Dobby. I’ll kill him if he wakes us up in the morning.

She didn’t hear me come in. She was playing some kind of music. Some sad, bluesy thing– I had no idea what it was. Who knew Hermione listened to this? I sat down beside the tub without making a sound and just watched her grooving to the sad rhythm of the song.

I slowly snuck my hand up to her slick knees, which were peeking out from the water.

“Ahh!” she yelped, a bunch of water going over the edge of the ancient claw-foot tub. I laughed, but didn’t remove my hand. She sighed loudly and held a hand to her heart. She looked at me with murder in her eyes. Then she smiled. With my free hand, I handed her the goblet of egg nog– yucky, milky stuff if you ask me, but she seemed to like it– and began my torture.

I ran my hand farther down her inner thigh below the water line. She glared at me. I grinned. She held the goblet to her chest and closed her eyes.

Does the ‘H’ on a female water faucet stand for ‘Hell’? Because I think I may end up with 3rd degree burns on my hands by the time I’m through.

I felt a little wet patch of hair and pushed into it. She arched her neck back a bit. I felt around slowly, not quite entering her but just feeling around. Her thighs tightened a bit, holding my hand where it was and she leaned forward. She took a sip of her egg nog and leaned into me, nuzzling my neck and working her way to my mouth.

Okay, so egg nog’s not that bad. Kind of sugary and warm. I suppose it didn’t hurt that her tongue was massaging mine in the most sugary and warm way.

She pulled back and looked at me with the most wanton expression on her face as she leaned back. I continued my little exploration and leaned my head onto the tub’s edge, just looking at her.

This was nice. It was really nice. I need to remember to look at who sings this song. It’s a great song. She took another sip of her egg nog and pushed into my hand obliviously. I pushed into her, my thumb touching her there. She opened her eyes and looked at me. I didn’t blink.

I couldn’t stand it anymore. I stood slightly and leaned over and kissed her. Half my blue shirt was now completely soaked. My pants were soaked from the water on the floor. I didn’t care. I kissed her throat, my fingers pushing harder. I wanted more, so I put my knee of the edge of the tub so I could get closer to her.

I ended up in the tub, clothes and all. My glasses went flying in a corner somewhere. She burst into laughter as water splashed out of the tub and onto the floor. I was between her legs holding onto the round corners on the head of the tub, just trying to balance myself above her. She was cracking up.

Once I realized I wasn't going to kill myself, I chuckled as well, turning myself around so that I was facing her. I figured i'd make the best of the situation.

How we did this without killing ourselves was beyond me. I couldn’t take off my wet pants, no matter how hard I tried. But unbuttoning them was good enough. She pulled the now soaked t-shirt above my head and threw it onto the floor with a heavy gushing sound. I had to remember to get out of this tub slowly. I could see myself slipping and falling, and that’s how some poor house-elf would find me in the morning: dead on the floor with a ridiculous grin on my face. At least I’d die happy.

Yeah, in fact, that’s how I want to go if I have the choice.

I maneuvered a bit to get into position. Then I pushed into her hard and her legs came up around my waist. Every time I pushed, water would splash over the side of the tub and she’d giggle.

She smelled like soap and sugar.

When I came, my voice echoed in the small room, and I instinctively tried to muffle the noise by burying my face in her neck, as I usually did. It took me a minute to realize we didn't have to hide; we were free to be as loud as we liked. I loved the idea of being alone with her. A part of me wanted to kidnap her right then and whisk her away to a deserted island somewhere, just so that I could hear her moan unobstructedly, instead of feeling her moan into my chest as she was right now.

I turned around when we were done, my back to her chest. She wrapped her legs around me as much as she could, hooking her ankles together. I rubbed her knees and her arms went around my neck, laying across my chest. She kissed the back of my head. I took hold of her hands, entwining them with mine. I brought them to my mouth and kissed her knuckles. I brought them back to my chest and just held them there for a while. I closed my eyes, feeling incredibly tired and comfortable. With my toe, Ii pushed the water on to fill the tub up more. Quite a bit of water had been lost on the floor in my eagerness.

She flattened her hands on my chest and rubbed. She held me to her tightly and rubbed her nose against the side of my face, breathing me in.

The Hell with slipping and falling. I could die right now.

I must have fallen asleep because when I opened my eyes she was nudging me up. She held her hand up and tapped her wrist, our signal for ‘time’s up’. I nodded and sat up. She slipped out from behind me and grabbed her towel. I watched her tie her hair in a towel, and she through another towel on the wet floor to soak up all the water– until she could get her wand to clean it up, at least. She noticed me watching her. She smiled and flashed me quickly before walking back into her room. I laughed.

By the time I got out, she was sitting on her bed, towel drying her hair. My clothes were soaked. I was going to have to walk to my room in a towel to get clothes. But I wasn’t ready to leave yet. You know, all this time and I’ve yet to have sex with her in a bed. There was something incredibly wonderful about that thought.

Another time. We’re going to be late as it is.

She stood up and undid her towel, wiping her legs with it. I stood in the doorway just watching. I’d placed the box with her bracelet on her dresser before I’d gone into the bathroom earlier. I wanted her to open it but she hadn’t noticed it yet.

She was looking down at her stomach. She was looking at the almost completely faded arrow that now was just a shadow. She looked up at me and stuck her lower lip out, frowning. I smiled. I went over to her desk and found a cup full of pens and quills. No markers, but the thick black pen would do.

I smiled at her and leaned her back on the bed. I retraced the arrow. I was about to write ‘mine’ when I stopped and thought about it.

No going back now. I blew on the spot to let the pen dry. I ran my hand over it to be sure it wouldn’t smudge. I leaned up and kissed her before I stood up. I glanced over to the dresser where her gift sat. She saw me look. She saw the long, thin, black box with the bow on it. She looked down at her stomach and looked surprised.

<– I love you

It wasn’t like I’d never told her I loved her. Every time I looked at her I told her I loved her. Every time I kissed her I told her I loved her. Every time I pushed up into her, over and over, I would tell her I loved her. In the Quidditch supply room, in the broom closet, in the kitchen, under the Quidditch stands, in Snape’s classroom, and in the tub just now. I’d push in. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you....

She knew I did. But I’d never been so blatant about it. Never actually put it in words.

She looked back up at me. I caressed the side of her cheek and kissed her again, softly this time. I tapped her nose and left.

::Sources/Inspiration::

The breast scene was inspired by the movie Indecent Proposal.

How to Make and American Quilt- Main theme. Listened to this again for the common room scene.

Wild is the Wind- Nina Simone. I realize Hermione probably wouldn’t listen to this music, but I do. And Holy-Christ-on-a-cracker this is a sexy song. So there.

This Year’s Love- David Gray. This is a great song.

5. Cake

Taste

by: Kate J

5/9

Rating: R - Shagging O’Plenty

Ship: H/Hr, of course. Is there another ship?

Summary: Cake and pudding a Happy Christmas makes.

Spoilers: None

Author’s notes:

1. I read at the Leaky Cauldron that there’s a Church in Greenville, Michigan burning Harry Potter books. I think I’ll send them a copy of this story. ;p I keep wanting to do a Hermione PoV chapter, but I’m just having too much fun with Harry so I doubt it will happen. But perhaps a sister story when this one is through, with all Hermione’s PoV?? Anyway, this chapter is sort of a compromise for Herm’s PoV. A very small compromise. Hope you like how I did it. Thanks for the encouragement guys!

2. I am a sinner. I admit I will not be one of the 177 thousand saved when Jesus comes back. I’ve accepted this. So please don’t flame me if the story is too graphic for your (insert religious preference and/or ignorant self-righteousness here) sensibilities. I will simply talk bad about you to everyone I know. It’s freakin Harry Potter fic, man. It’s all in good, naughty, fun. This is smut-fic, so be warned. You all know the disclaimer song- nope, not mine... JK... Scholastic... no money being made, etc. You don’t have to review, but thank you muchly if you do. :)

~*~*~*

Cake

~*~*~*

She hadn’t opened the box yet.

It was the first thing I’d noticed walking back into the room. I was hoping she’d have it open and would be wearing it. No such luck. Wench.

She was in the bathroom. I could hear her brushing her hair. I stood at the door for a moment.

“Non-Pregnantus Obliaté.” I heard her say. Yeah, she’d better hope that contraceptive spell is extra-strength because I plan on putting it to the test tonight. I grinned.

I’d changed quickly, coming back to her room to bring her down to dinner. Christmas break dinner at Hogwarts was much less formal than normal supper time. We just went in casual clothes and sat with the Professors. I was usually the only Gryffindor left, or in the off-chance Ron was there, then I’d have him to talk to.

I lay down on the bed waiting to bring her down, my legs hanging off the side. I closed my eyes and draped my arm over them; That bath made me sleepy.

I felt her hand rubbing my chest. I hadn’t even heard her walk in to the room. I looked up and she was standing in front of me, holding her gift. She shook it, smiling, and looked at me.

I nodded my head, affirming I wanted her to open it now.

She plopped on the bed beside me like a little girl and ripped the little red bow off, throwing it to the floor.

I laughed and swallowed nervously. I kept hearing the shopkeeper’s voice in my head, ‘I’ve had many poor souls come into my shop and buy the completely inappropriate thing...’.

She opened the box and her mouth hung open. I smiled. She likes it.

She picked up the delicate silver string and dangled it in front of her face. She smiled at each of the charms, silently laughing thinking of what each one meant. Remembering where each one had become significant. She looked at me with this expression of pure joy on her face.

She leapt up, threw her arms around my neck– knocking me back– and straddled me on the bed. She hugged me so hard I thought my head might pop off from the force. I laughed and rubbed her back.

Your welcome.

She didn’t let go right away, just pecking my neck over and over. She grabbed the sides of my face and kissed my cheeks, then my forehead, then my nose and finally my mouth. She ran her hands through my hair. Her tongue darted out and danced across the roof of my mouth.

You are so welcome.

She sat up in my lap and held the bracelet out to me. I sat up so our chests were touching and took the bracelet as she pushed up the sleeve of her tan shirt. She held her wrist out and I turned my face to fasten the small square lock around her thin wrist. She sucked on my neck as I did so, showing her appreciation yet again. I groaned and smiled, rubbing her arm when I was done. She dangled it in front of her, the charms moving on their own and wiggling around. She gave me one more stare and kissed me quickly before leaping off the bed as quickly as she’d leapt on.

She got down on her knees in front of me and, for a moment, I thought she was going to give me another blow-job. Wow, I really need to buy her jewelry more often, I thought, a hand going to my zipper. She laughed and rolled her eyes at me, reaching her hand under her mattress. She grabbed something and slipped it behind her back before I could see it.

It was a square box. She playfully handed it to me, then pulled it back as I reached for it. You witch. I jumped off the bed and chased her around the room. She leapt over the other beds, evading me only for a moment before I caught her by the belt-loop in her jeans. I threw her playfully onto one of the beds, face-down. I tickled her sides and she yelped as I slapped her bottom before I flipped her over, grabbing the gift. She watched me open it, my legs straddling hers.

I unwrapped the box quickly, tearing the paper off and throwing it on the floor. It was a brown leather book, used, with the letter ‘H’ on the binding. I thought maybe it was a Quidditch book at first, until I scanned the first page quickly.

She gave me the most personal thing she owned. She gave me her diary.

Not just any diary. After reading the first few pages, I realized she’d started this diary the night after that first time in the broom closet. These were her thoughts, her words. Everything she hadn’t said. Everything that went without saying. Everything she’s ever thought from that first day on. And she didn’t write anything else. She didn’t write about her day of schoolwork, her parents, or Ron or Ginny or her dormmates. Just about us. The entire book was filled. She must be starting another one and decided to give me this one.

I was floored. I couldn’t believe she’d give me something so personal. I shouldn’t be surprised, she’s given me everything else you’d consider personal. I looked down at her, placing the diary on the side of the bed. I laced our fingers together and pushed her hands into the bed on either side of her shoulders as I leaned down to kiss her.

She wrapped her arms around my neck and met me halfway. My legs instinctively slid down to slip in between hers.

Closer. The word spun through my mind as I arched my hips against her, inviting, begging. In a quick move, she pulled my black t-shirt above my head and shoved it down my arms until it hung at my wrists, temporarily trapping them by my sides. She took this opportunity to roll me over and swiftly pulled her own shirt above her head. I looked at her hungrily.

We are going to be very late for dinner.

***

Dinner went by quickly, and no one seemed to mind we were a few minutes late. Hagrid greeted us with a throaty, “Ello, happy holiday to ya ‘Arry, ‘Mione.”

Dumbledore gave me a look during dessert. A knowing look. Like he knew we’d been traipsing all around his school doing all sorts of naughty, bad things. He smirked and took a sip of his Christmas punch winking at me.

That dirty old man.

I couldn’t look him in the eye throughout the rest of the meal. Hermione had already left, offering to help Hagrid with rounding up some pixies that had gotten into his fire whiskey. I bid everyone a good night and made my way back to Hermione’s room.

I lay back on her bed, thumbing each page of the diary.

Sept 6th

I gave Harry Potter a splendid blow-job in a broom closet earlier today. I have no idea why. I didn’t feel *that* badly for him for losing the Quidditch match. I don’t know. I was just looking at that face, and that hair and those arms. I had an itch that was begging to be scratched. And I couldn’t possibly go through all of that girly ‘Do you like me? Check yes, or check no,’ hogwabbish. It was Harry for God’s sake. So I just did it. Funny thing was, I didn’t even think about his reaction. He didn’t seem to mind in the least. He kept looking over at me during dinner. It was quite funny, really. I didn’t say anything to him, mostly out of embarrassment for what I’d done, but more because it was fun. I want to do it again just to watch him freak out. I honestly think he’s convinced himself it didn’t happen, or that it was a one time thing that we will never speak of again. Just a friendly little... quid pro quo of sorts.

I laughed reading this. Only Hermione would make what we’d done that night sound like a business deal. Like a logical solution to an exam question.

Sept 20th

Sometimes I can smell him from where he’s sitting and I just want to steal his clothes so I can smell them all the time. Is that strange?

Not at all.

Sept 21st

‘I’m tired of being subtle. When I tell him ‘good luck on your Quidditch game,’ when what I really mean is, ‘I love your mouth.’

I smiled. She loves my mouth.

She apparently liked my other parts as well. Although that first time was more painful then she let on to me. I feel like a voyeur reading this, but I read on anyway.

I’ve discovered that her favorite place is in the Quidditch room. ‘It smells like dusty sunshine and old books and Harry,’ she wrote. I’ll have to bring her in there more often. I blushed at her next entry, detailing how excited she’d been that day she’d jumped me outside of Snape’s class. She was very...graphic.

It was making me feel very graphic.

Oct 23rd

I will never be able to eat chocolate ice cream again.

She was in love with me.

I don’t why this shocked me as it did. I knew very well she loved me. But seeing her own handwriting, her own thoughts...

Oct 27th

I love Harry. Completely. It’s not a statement. It just *is*. Saying I love him almost sounds trivial to how I feel about him. I mean, the way he looks at me...

It affected me. I was thoroughly affected.

I read the entire diary. It took me almost 2 hours. I couldn’t put it down. I was eating every word. Every sweet and silly word, or embarrassing word, and even the sexy words. It was like reading a book that you’d been waiting forever to read, and you just couldn’t wait until the end. But you didn’t want to be spoiled for it, so you refused to look ahead.

She likes the library, too, I’ve found. She loves that I put chips on my sandwiches. She hates when I throw popcorn in the air and catch it in my mouth. It annoys the hell out of her.

She likes that I stare at her, and turn away when I realize that I’m staring, then turn back when I realize I’m allowed.

She secretly loves Quidditch and wishes she could fly better, so she could play with me.

Her last entry was a note to me. She wrote it yesterday.

“Harry,

I realize our silences convey everything that there really aren’t words for. I don’t need to search for the right word to describe how I feel when all I have to do is look at you to do it. So I shouldn’t have to say it because you already know.

But I love you.

-H”

So very affected.

It was almost 8pm when I heard her opening the door. I looked up as she stumbled in. It was snowing out, so the walk from Hagrid’s hut to the school had her hair very damp. She had a big bowl of chocolatey mush in her grip. She saw the diary in my hands. She blushed a little, kicked the door shut, and walked over to the bed.

She had chocolate cake with chocolate pudding on top in one of Hagrid’s huge, head-sized bowls. Hagrid must have wanted to thank her for helping him. She was also trying to eat it with a spoon that was the size of a small frying pan.

She placed the bowl on the bed and whipped off her shirt, her damp hair flying behind her, and she kicked off her sneakers into the corner of the room. She was shaking from cold. She crawled toward me in her jeans and black bra, looking all kinds of delicious. She was looking at me as though she were in heat.

I closed the diary, placing it on her nightstand. Her hands went to my feet and pulled my socks off. She twirled them around in her hands before throwing them off into the corner.

So that’s how you do that.

Then she grabbed my ankles and pulled my legs hard down the bed so I was laying down. I gave a high-pitched laugh.

Hermione wants to play. And she’s being all ‘I am woman, hear me screw your brains out.’ And she’s straddling my waist and purposely pushing down onto me. And she’s very cold.

Time to warm her up.

My hands went to her bare waist, but she grabbed them and slammed them back on the mattress. Oooo. Hello Miss Granger.

She pulled my shirt hard, bringing me up to her in a fierce kiss. She pulled my shirt up and over my head. It got stuck on my ear and she grunted in frustration. ‘Ah!’ I whispered as she pulled too hard. When I laughed, she looked apologetic at me and looked down at my belt.

As if she ever has to apologize for being anxious to get my clothes off. Silly girl.

She reached over to Hagrid’s concoction and placed the bowl on my chest, then she took a bite, licking the spoon and grinding her center down on me. I grumbled. She licked the spoon clean.

I watched her toss the spoon aside on the bed and reach in with her finger to grab a hook of pudding. She offered it to me and I took it gratefully, taking my time. She pulled her finger away licking off what I left behind. I remembered her diary.

Nov 3rd

He grabbed my hands today and kissed them. For no reason. Just because...

I reached down and grabbed her hands, kissing the backs of her knuckles. She dipped into the chocolate pudding once more.

Nov 15th

He’s looking good enough to eat. Good enough to batter and fry up in a pan with a side of cole slaw.

I felt rather than saw her smear the pudding on my face. I looked up as she jumped off of me with a gleam in her eye. She had the bowl in her arms and ran.

That naughty little witch was starting a food fight with me. Oh she’s going to get it. I leapt up from the bed and she screamed and ran to the door, throwing a scoop of pudding at me and missing mostly; a little hit my chest. I knew I could catch her, but I didn’t want to just yet. So I ran slow, trying to wipe my glasses on my pants. She was in the common room in front of the fireplace, but she ran to the side of the couch when she saw me. I shook the couch, trying to scare her into running. I ran around the couch and she ran the other way. So I jumped straight over the couch and grabbed her.

“Ah!!!” She yelped, grabbing a handful of cake and smearing it in my hair. I reached forward to the bowl, which she was desperately trying to keep away from me...so much that me were now hunched on the floor. So I just reached up, grabbed the cake from my hair, and smeared it all over her face and neck.

“Ohhh!” she laughed.

She scootched away from me and tried to wipe her face. She looked horrible. Her hair was frizzed all over the place- except where a glob of pudding had landed. Her jeans were covered in remnants of cake and her skin was covered in patches of chocolate pudding.

I wanted her so bad.

I couldn’t wait anymore. I grabbed the straps of her bra around my fingers and pulled her forward roughly, kissing her. I picked her up and practically threw her against the closest wall, just devouring her. She gave as good as she got, wrapping one leg around me while her hands were just... everywhere.

I broke free and pulled her toward the study table, at first pushing her over it, grinding myself into her from behind. But I wanted to face her. I moved back, turning her around and roughly picking her up and setting her ontop of the table as I kissed her hard. Reaching for the button on her jeans, I first ran my hands down her front, squeezing her breasts in my hands as they found their way down. My hands, of their own accord, pushed her back so she was laying on the table with her legs dangling over the side on either side of me. I pulled the zipper down, grabbed the waistline, and gave a good, hard tug.

I love undressing Hermione. I find myself wanting to put her in clothes just to rip them off of her.

I crawled up onto the table with her as soon as I could undo the zipper of my pants. She looked down.

Made ya look, made ya look.

I entered her hard, licking a bit of the chocolate off her neck. I pushed harder and she kissed me. The table was rocking so hard I was afraid the legs were going to break. I could hear the fat lady outside the door wondering alloud what was going on in here.

Nov 9th

He won his Quidditch game today. Good for him. Although I should really say good for me because as soon as people began to clear out from the pitch, he took me under the Quidditch stands. He just had sex with me right up against the cement wall. I felt like everytime he pushed in he was saying, ‘I win, I win, I win...’.

Go Gryffindor!

I win. I win. I win. I win...oh, God, don’t do that Hermione. Hermi...

And then.

My face had been buried in the crook of her neck, and when I looked up, her eyes were staring at the ceiling and her mouth upturned in a little satisfied grin.

Nov 15th

I love when he looks at me after we have sex. There’s something so easy in that stare. And difficult. Tough and sweet. Impulsive and shy. A nice potpourri of contradictions.

I brushed her hair back and held her cheeks, looking at her for a moment before I ungracefully unmounted the table.

Happy Christmas Hermione.

::Sources/Inspiration::

Laid- by James. ‘This bed is on fire with passionate love...’ Yeah. Food fight.

6. Toothpaste

Taste

by: Kate J

6/9

Rating: R - Shagging O’Plenty

Ship: H/Hr, of course. Is there another ship?

Summary: Tiny chapter. Is brushing your teeth sexy?

Spoilers: None

Author’s notes:

1. This is just a tiny little filler chapter. The little crumb in the corner.

2. I am a sinner. I admit I will not be one of the 177 thousand saved when Jesus comes back. I’ve accepted this. So please don’t flame me if the story is too graphic for your (insert religious preference and/or ignorant self-righteousness here) sensibilities. I will simply talk bad about you to everyone I know. It’s freakin Harry Potter fic, man. It’s all in good, naughty, fun. This is smut-fic, so be warned. You all know the disclaimer song- nope, not mine... JK... Scholastic... no money being made, etc. You don’t have to review, but thank you muchly if you do. :)

~*~*~*

Toothpaste

~*~*~*

I was in desperate need of a shower, I thought, walking to my dorm. I would join Hermione after I fed Hedwig.

She nipped at my hand, looking at me furiously.

“I’ve been neglecting you. I’m sorry. Don’t worry, you’re still my number one girl, Hedwig,” I said, rubbing her feathers and placing a bowl of water under her open perch. I looked over to my drawer.

Leave it there, Harry. Don’t do it. Just leave it.

I shook my head of my thoughts and made my way to the shower. As much as I would have liked to share my shower with Hermione, I think little Harry was begging for some time to rest. Damn lightweight.

I made my way to her room around 11, clothes and toothbrush in hand for tomorrow. She was already changed in her simple, little, cotton nightgown. Her hair was much better. She’d showered and there were no traces of pudding anywhere. Oh well.

She was shaking her bracelet back and forth on her wrist, watching it shimmer. I crawled up to the bed suddenly feeling like snorting with laughter. It was so domestic; we were going to sleep. In the same bed. Without sex. We were both exhausted. It was Christmas Eve and the snow was still coming down hard outside the window. I needed to close my eyes.

I leaned over her and shut the light off, pulling her close to me and settling into the pillow. She brought my arm around her waist and held her hand over mine. That was the last thing I remembered before my eyes shut and I fell into comfortable sleep.

***

There are many advantages to sleeping in the same bed together, and morning sex is one of them.

She was asleep when I woke up, her body draped halfway over the bed. Her arm was dangling off the bed toward the floor. It was Christmas morning. I looked at her bare back. The flimsy cotton nightgown with little yellow flowers on it had ridden up during the night. My legs were entwined in hers; even in my sleep I’m reaching for her.

I smiled and slowly rubbed her back, up her neck, pushing her hair aside and kissing my freckle. She stirred and jumped a tiny bit, not used to having someone there in her bed with her. She turned just a little and smiled at me. I leaned down to kiss her.

We kissed only once, realizing our morning breath could kill small woodland creatures. Of course, that didn’t mean I couldn’t kiss her everywhere else. She turned back to the window, her back to me. I pulled the nightgown up and over her head and rubbed her bare back, over her shoulder blades, down the thin string of pearls in the center, feeling each bone, down her bare arms. I kissed the back of her shoulder as I pulled her leg up over mine and lowered my boxers a bit. I entered her slowly, just enjoying the laziness of it. I propped my head up with my hand as the other hand rubbed her hips, bringing them backward to me every so often. I placed my hand over her abdomen, just below her bellybutton and brought her back. I watched as the muscles in her back flexed every once in a while. I brought my hand up to her breast and just laid it there for a moment.

There was nothing rough or eager about this. We were just saying good morning.

I’d push forward and she’d push back. The only noise being the cotton sheets around our waists or our sighs. Forward and back. Forward and back. It was so peaceful.

There is no going back now. You know it.

Why would you want to?

I began to feel it building up in my center and I tried to stay slow. But she was pushing back into me a little harder now and her hot grip was tightening around me. I finally let go, as slowly as I could. No screaming or moaning. Just heavy sighing on both our parts.

And our parts were very sated. We fell back to sleep.

She woke up before me, because I woke up to hearing her turning on the faucet in the bathroom. The door was slightly ajar. I rolled onto my back and sighed, enjoying the smell of her on the pillow. In fact, I could smell her all over me.

I walked to the bathroom and peeked in. She was brushing her teeth. Thank God. I looked at her for a moment. She stood there brushing, looking like a woman who’d just had great sex. Suddenly I wanted to turn the clock back and start all over. I grabbed my own toothbrush from the counter and squeezed some toothpaste onto it. She winked at me and continued brushing, just staring at me.

I brushed around, staring right back at her. She spit and brushed some more. I brushed my back teeth and spit, brushing even more. I ran the brush over my tongue, and brushed my lower teeth all the while barely taking my eyes off of her. Lots and lots of brushing. All the while my eyes never leaving hers.

I’ve never taken so long brushing my teeth before. Her parents were dentists...maybe this was a normal thing for her.

Nah.

She finally stopped the torture and rinsed, tapping her brush on the sink as she looked away first.

Wait... did I just win? I never win. Or was this a pity, Happy Christmas win? Hmm. She smiled at me and slapped my butt on her way out.

I love winning.

::Sources/Inspiration::

Toothpaste scene was inspired by a short scene in the movie Bring It On. Best part of that whole dumb-ass movie.

Kindle My heart- Little Princess sdtk. I love this theme. Sweet and simple. Christmas morning wake up.

Here Comes the Sun- Nina Simone (Beatles cover). Love this song. Great fun with toothpaste.

“small woodland creatures,” sounds familiar to me. But I can’t for the life of me remember where I heard it. If you know, e-mail me at Kate@harryloveshermione.com

7. Air

Taste

by: Kate J

7/9

Rating: R - Shagging O’Plenty

Ship: H/Hr, of course. Is there another ship?

Summary: Silence Be Gone.

Spoilers: None

Author’s notes:

1. It had to happen eventually.

2. I am a sinner. I admit I will not be one of the 177 thousand saved when Jesus comes back. I’ve accepted this. So please don’t flame me if the story is too graphic for your (insert religious preference and/or ignorant self-righteousness here) sensibilities. I will simply talk bad about you to everyone I know. It’s freakin Harry Potter fic, man. It’s all in good, naughty, fun. This is smut-fic, so be warned. You all know the disclaimer song- nope, not mine... JK... Scholastic... no money being made, etc. You don’t have to review, but thank you muchly if you do. :)

~*~*~*

Air

~*~*~*

Oh my God, we’re going to die.

While Hermione was...busy, I was trying simply not to crash us into a tree. We were going at about 160 miles and hour and she was trying to have sex with me. Pretty successfully, in fact. In mid-flight. I was having trouble concentrating, to say the least. Thank God the Slytherins never tried this during a match– they’d win every game.

We’d stayed in that room for 4 days, venturing out only to eat or for me to feed Hedwig. We were like strange, sex-crazed, cavepeople. On the floor, against walls, over desks, against the window, in the tub again, on the floor near the bathroom (we didn't make it all the way before we'd ripped each other's clothes off).

And that was just in her bedroom. We'd nearly killed each other once in a hallway leading to the boys dorm, almost getting caught by a nosy painting. We snuck food back to the common room and fed each other. More food fights and more fun. We snogged so hard on the couch in front of the fireplace one night that I left bruises on her neck. We did so many things on that couch that I didn't think we'd ever be able to look at it again without blushing.

Sometimes we just sat with each other, our limbs always tangled in each other but nonetheless non-sexual. We just enjoyed the silence and peace that came just by being near one another. I found that I liked watching her knit or read. She was so focused and engaged; I sometimes feel envious of her ability to drown out the world.

We ventured out a few times to walk around the grounds, finding excuses to touch each other or pull each other against a tree and snog each other senseless.

The time went by so quickly. I think we both avoided thinking about it. We enjoyed our denial.

Which brings us to our situation at hand. I gestured to my Firebolt this morning as we were getting dressed, thinking Hermione would like to go for a ride. Aww, how sweet.

Yeah. Right.

She’d mounted the broom with me, her in front. She was a little scared to fly, I knew, so I went slow at first, holding her to me with my arm and my head on her shoulder. But with no objections from her I began circling the Quidditch pitch pretty quickly, finally just flying off over the forest, which was now covered in snow.

She began squirming about 2 minutes ago and, at first, I thought she was panicking. But she was lifting her leg, her robe going up a bit. I slowed down immediately, and knew we were very high up. I didn’t want her to fall.

She managed to turn around, using my shoulders as leverage... she’s a damn contortionist, I swear... and placed her arms around my neck. I smiled at her and sped up again, once I was sure she was safe.

She reached low, and lower still, until she had her hand on my button. There’s that devil glare again, the one she’s so good at. She undid my pants and bounced up onto me, her plaid skirt– which at the time seemed strange for such a cold day– now seemed completely appropriate. She pushed on my legs with her own in order to get me in, moving her underwear aside. And finally, I was.

My 2 favorite things: Hermione and flying. I was getting very dizzy. She was sucking on my neck like a vampire as she rotated her hips over and over. Slow then fast. Sex with Hermione at 160 miles and hour was enough to make my head spin, but at this high an elevation and the air even thinner from the cold snow... I thought I was going to pass out.

My flying was fast and furious, but it matched her sex. I finally felt even with her. She began to rotate faster and harder. And then she grabbed my face and kissed me, her tongue wrestling with mine. I was trying so hard to keep my eyes open and see behind her. One hand on her behind and one hand on the broom. Just try to remember that, Harry. Don’t let go.

Finally, she squeezed me inside harder than I could take, and I came. I just came like an open faucet. Even though it was cold, I was sweating. I was sweating like I’d run a marathon. And finally I was done and we began to come down. She looked at me when we were through as if she knew it would be the first and last time we'd be able to do this without anyone seeing us. I knew at that very moment that she couldn't let this go any more than I could.

Dec 12th

There hasn’t been a moment in my life for the past 4 months that hasn’t been marked by him.

Yeah, I know the feeling.

***

It was our last day alone.

I stood in the Quidditch room, looking at the walls, looking at what I’d done; at what had taken me all night and some of the morning to do. I tacked up the last piece of parchment to the wall and looked at the small box sitting in a rectangle of sunlight on the floor.

I’d taken it out of the drawer.

I left her last night as she slept and made my way to my room. I looked at it for about an hour, thinking of every good, logical reason why it was a dumb thing to do. And there were so many. I made lists.

And I could only think of one reason to do it. But it trumped all the other reasons not to.

I looked at the box, sitting there. Just daring me to pick it up and forget it ever happened. But I won’t. I can’t.

How were we going to do this? How were we going to go back to separate beds? I loved sneaking around with her, I did. But I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to stop waking her up. I don’t want to stop chasing her around the common room or flying with her. No more brushing our teeth together. No more chocolate cake.

This just sucks.

I don’t know how to let her go. It’s the first time in my life I’ve ever loved anything and felt it come back to me. I know that’s not the only reason why I’m doing this, but it still matters. Now I’m nervous as hell, looking around the room, thinking of tearing them all down.

I’d written every word I’ve ever wanted to say to her on pieces of parchment and tacked them to the walls. Every phrase, every sentence, every dirty thought, every little thing I could remember. Every reason I loved her and why. Everything I’ve ever said to her in my mind. Every reason that told her that what I was about to do made sense.

And even though we’ve never spoken, she would hear this. She would hear them all.

***

She was sitting on her bed, peeling an orange, when I walked in. I stood there for a moment, really thinking about what I was about to do. She smiled up at me and offered me a piece.

I smiled. I took her hand, gesturing to her to follow me.

We walked into the room, her behind me. I stopped and looked back at her before she could see what I’d done, and I kissed her. I was having a flashback to our first time in here, when she stood right where she was now glaring at me. But now she walked forward and glared at the walls. Her mouth hung open.

She walked slowly forward, past me, twirling around and taking it all in. She moved closer to read a few, grazing her hand over a few of the papers lightly, as if they were the most delicate, fine art she’d ever seen. She smiled. She laughed. She stared at me after a few of the more suggestive ones. And suddenly I wasn’t nervous anymore. I’m not really sure why I ever was. I crossed my arms and leaned back against one of the huge windows.

She traced a few words with her fingers. She moved along the wall trying to read them all but there were so many. There was barely a stitch of wall to be seen below eye level. Then she saw the open box on the floor.

She looked at me with an expression I wasn’t sure how to read. I thought she was going to cry or scream or run. But she didn’t. She just looked at me with that stare that’s gotten me to this point.

And for the first time, I spoke out loud.

“Marry me.”

::Sources/ Inspiration::

Stillness of Heart- Lenny Kravitz. Flying.

I rotated Kindle My Heart (Little Princess sdtk), Ice Dance (Edward Scissorhands sdtk) and, mostly, Nosjavelin (the Nothing Song) by Sigur Ros for the proposal and the room full of I love you’s. Kindle My Heart is just one of those songs I think I’m the only one who likes. The Nothing Song is just one of the most beautiful songs of all time by one of my top 5 favorite bands ever (you may remember it from the final scene in the movie, Vanilla Sky, with Tom Cruise. Most people know it from that). But that's just my opinion. So use your own favorite.

8. Skin and Soup

Taste

by: Kate J

8/9

Rating: R - Shagging O’Plenty

Ship: H/Hr, of course. Is there another ship?

Summary: All good things...

Spoilers: None

Author’s notes:

1. Add. Note for chapter 6– “...kill small woodland creatures.” I meant to mention it in that chapter, but while writing this, it sounded familiar. I have no idea if I read it in a book or a fanfic, or if maybe it was my own. I can’t tell. I certainly don’t want anyone to think I stole it, so if you recognize it as well or know where it’s from, let me know so I can give proper credit! Katejones123@aol.com

2. I am a sinner. I admit I will not be one of the 177 thousand saved when Jesus comes back. I’ve accepted this. So please don’t flame me if the story is too graphic for your (insert religious preference and/or ignorant self-righteousness here) sensibilities. I will simply talk bad about you to everyone I know. It’s freakin Harry Potter fic, man. It’s all in good, naughty, fun. This is smut-fic, so be warned. You all know the disclaimer song- nope, not mine... JK... Scholastic... no money being made, etc. You don’t have to review, but thank you muchly if you do. :)

~*~*~*

Skin and Soup

~*~*~*

My fingers splayed across her belly.

My hand on her leg.

My mouth between her breasts.

Her hand on my ribs.

Her hair on the floor.

Her lips on my back.

Her arm above her.

And we were quiet again. Why have deep conversation when you could have this?

***

-10 minutes earlier-

“It’s not a question. I’m not asking you to marry me,” I told her, leaning against the window, just looking at her possessively. “I don’t have to ask. I know that,” I said, staring at her. “I know you.”

And like everything else about us, it was simple. Of course it was. She wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“Okay.”

That was it. Like someone had just asked her to read a book... for as long as we both shall live.

I clapped my hands lightly, signaling her to come over to me and I smiled. She ran and jumped onto me, her legs going around my waist as she kissed me hard. I held her behind and twirled her around.

‘Air!’ my lungs screamed.

Shut up.

We fell to the floor. I crawled over to the ring, bringing it back over to her. I grabbed her wrist and opened the clasp on her bracelet, sliding the ring on and re-clasping it around her wrist. Not on her finger. It would be too obvious to everyone around us, and it was no one’s business but our own. It seemed more natural to dangle there than anywhere else.

I pulled my t-shirt up over my head and held her hands to the floor. I looked at her, laying on the floor below me, looking up at me with those eyes and that grin.

All mine.

***

-2 months later-

We sat in the library, looking completely normal in our little world, completely focused on our very important studying. But there lived yet another world... a world under the table.

She could never do this to me. I would be caught in a second. Guys can’t hide their orgasms the way woman can. I could sit here, driving her crazy with my fingers as she had her little explosions, over and over, and she’d barely flinch. Every once in a while she stops writing and closes her eyes. I could keep giving her orgasm after orgasm, right here in front of half the school, and no one would know. And I love it. The balance of power has shifted momentarily. Ha, ha! Take that you evil woman you!

Depraved, isn’t it?

Of course, she got me back. She got me back against the library wall, in a little nook hidden by books people hadn’t read in years. Except for maybe Hermione. She pushed me against the wall hard and I grabbed her, pushing her against the bookcase. Books fell from the shelves with our clumsiness. She laughed and covered her mouth as to not alert anyone to our dirty little rendezvous. I was so hard. I was so ready.

We were so interrupted. I was so pissed.

She had just started sucking on my neck in that way I like, in that way that told me I was making her happy, when I heard Neville and Dean walking toward us. What the hell did they want all the way back here? They’d never even seen this part of the library, so why did they have to decided that now was a good time to go exploring? Bastards.

I moved us around the bookshelf to a corner in the library where I found my salvation: there was a tiny, old window leading out to the roof of the library. She smiled at me. The Gods are good. The Gods are merciful.

It was pouring. We felt the rain against our faces the second we stepped out onto the pebbled roof. It was a strange looking afternoon. The sky had gotten a deep shade of pale grey-blue, almost purple. The lightening storm was just hitting full swing. Long strips of lightening grazed the skyline in strange shapes and patterns. It was a cold February rain. But I didn’t care.

It was hard going back to sneaking around after being together over Christmas. I felt like a junkie trying to go cold turkey. I was in desperate need of a fix. A nice, all day, lay in the common room, sleep in the tub, early morning wake-up, fix. Why the hell didn’t prefects get their own rooms? How nice and convenient that would be. It’s just not fair. I was having trouble sleeping without her.

We were already soaked. She wiped my hair back from my forehead, and I took off my glasses, placing them in the inner pocket of my robe. I wrapped my arms under her arms tightly, grabbing a fistful of her robe, and kissed her hard, my tongue mixing with hers and the rain and her skin.

She wrapped her arms around my neck. She grabbed my hair, kissing me back, more urgently.

‘Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow...’ I mouthed. Her bracelet got caught in my hair again. Hermione had a wonderful habit of running her fingers through it whenever we were together. The ring, which looked like a small crown of entwined leaves and vines, kept getting snagged everytime. At this rate, I would be bald by the time I was 30.

I’d added a few charms to the bracelet over the past few weeks, a broom, a cake, a toothbrush. She played with the ring a lot. I’d catch her smiling at it in the middle of class sometimes.

I pushed her up against the stone wall and stood back for a minute undoing my belt. She just stared at me, water falling down her face, her hair soaked. She just leaned against the wall looking at me. She pulled me forward to her by the waist of my pants, wanting to do it herself. I just took hold of her hips and sighed. I loved her hips.

I ran my hands over the front of her skirt, pulling up a bit. I wrapped my hand behind her knee, bringing it up over my hip as I entered her. I leaned her against the wall and grabbed her other knee. The wall held her up a bit, and I pushed he knees back, entering her harder and further.

I’m going to have to add a tie charm to the bracelet. Considering how she’s rocking herself on me by pulling on my tie and letting gravity do the rest, it seems only fitting. I’ll never call these things useless again.

I wasn’t even pushing that much. We were just sort of rocking back and forth together, staring at each other through the rain. She reached up with her free hand and held my cheek for a moment, traveling lower to my neck. She traced the line over my Adam’s apple and down my chest, where she just rubbed for a lazy minute. Then she moved lower and touched me right where I joined her, feeling how hard I was inside.

See, this is why I could never get away with her touching me the way I’d touched her. I couldn’t do it. There’s no way. Just feeling her fingers, and looking down to see it, had me jerking up.

Feel what you do to me?

I wasn’t sure if it was the electrical charge in the air around us or if it was the freezing rain, but there was this rush of goosebumps that covered my entire body. They ran along my arms and down my back and through my legs. The hairs on the back of my neck were standing up. I held her hand in mine against the wall as I pushed. I heard her whimper. Was that a whimper? She was about to let go. I could feel her. So I rotated my hips and pushed. And we let go.

We just stayed like that, crushed up against each other, up against the wall, for a few minutes. Just staring at each other with our foreheads touching. I could almost hear her.

Finally we went back inside, sneaking our way through the window, soaking wet. I reached into my pocket for my glasses.

“Oh no,” I said quietly, looking at the shattered glass in one eye. Hermione just smiled at me and took out her wand.

“Occulous Repairo,” She said, whispering, waving her wand at my eyes.

For a moment, I saw her as that smart, little, 11-year-old girl on the train again, fixing my glasses for me as I looked at her, scared to death. Now she’s going to be my wife.

How far we’ve come.

***

-Valentine’s Day-

Reason I hate Valentine’s Day #4,327: Nothing ever goes according to plan.

Not to mention the fact that everyone around me today has been sucking on little balls of chocolate covered...whatevers... wrapped in their delightfully tacky, candy-red, cellophane boxes. Which normally wouldn’t bother me, but now I’m thinking of a certain little brunette doing it. And seeing Hermione sucking on anything is usually- scratch that- always a good thing. But that’s just not the thing I need to be thinking about right now.

While everyone else was in Hogsmeade on this lovey-dovey, red-tinged Saturday, listening to oh-so-nice romantic music, I was, instead, sitting outside Hermione’s bathroom door listening to the oh-so-lovely sounds of her throwing up.

Wizard flu’s were much harsher than normal muggle flu’s. Most wizards have a natural immunity to most common illnesses and have superior immune systems; we don’t get sick often. But Hermione is part muggle, and because of that, this flu is really hitting her hard.

She was in the hospital for almost 2 days, just sleeping. She went down right in the middle of her presentation in Flitwick’s class. She hadn’t been right all week. I thought maybe it was her time of the month, seeing as she wasn’t really ‘in the mood’. Ron thought she was pregnant. But, no, I knew something was wrong. She just didn’t look right. Then she passed straight out. I was so scared when I saw her hit the floor. My whole brain just went into lockdown. I leapt out of my chair at the top of the room and flew down, 5 steps at a time, to the floor where Flitwick was trying to wake her up.

You can’t really make sense of anything when you’re worried about someone. There wasn’t any, ‘Hermione, my darling love, what’s wrong? Answer me, heart-of-hearts!’ crap going on in my mindlike you see on the telley. There were no finished sentences. All I could think was, ‘Please. Hey. What? Hermione? No, no. Wha.. Oh, oh, oh. God. Please, please, please, please, please.’ That was about it. Real panic just isn’t eloquent.

Flitwick got her straight to the hospital wing, and Ron and I insisted on going along. So many things were going through my mind. Scary things. I didn’t realize I had been panting until Ron pulled me aside outside the hospital door and told me to calm down.

She was going to be fine, Pomfrey informed us. It was like a clenching fist let go of my heart. Thank God. Thank Madame Pomfrey. Thank whomever.

She had a serious case of wizard flu. It was a good thing she was in school when it happened because muggle doctors wouldn’t know how to deal with it. She could’ve died. I could’ve lost her. I could barely stand the thought of it.

She was going to be fine, I kept having to reassure myself. Just dehydrated and exhausted. She needed some good sleep.

Believe it or not, I’m told this throwing up thing is actually good. It means she’s starting to feel better. She’s just tired and hot and freezing and sweaty. It will be gone by tomorrow, thanks to Pomfrey’s wizard meds.

So I’m sitting here in her room, the first opportunity to be alone together like this since Christmas break, and I’m listening to her brush her teeth instead of watching her suck on chocolate covered... whatevers.

I grinned and looked down toward my zipper. ‘You are no help whatsoever.’

Poor her. Poor me.

She gave me this look when she came out from the bathroom. A look that said I didn’t have to stay with her. That I was relieved of duty. But I didn’t want to go. I stood up and hugged her. I have this overwhelming need to take care of her. To really take care of her. I hated knowing she was sick and there was nothing I could do. So I did the only thing I could do– I brought her some soup from Dobby.

It was all I could think of. It sat getting cold on the nightstand and, when she saw it, she giggled despite her yucky mood. She was shivering from the chills. I walked her over to the bed and tucked her in. I’d gotten her a card and a daisy and they sat together on her trunk at the foot of her bed. Roses were traditional, but she liked daisies.

I went onto the other side of the bed and just laid there, feeling the bed shaking from her trembling. With her back to me, I rubbed her arm back and forth trying to warm her. It wasn’t working, but I needed to feel useful. She patted my hand, silently thanking me. And finally... inevitably....

“I love you, Harry.”

Pause.

“I know.”

“Sorry Valentine’s was ruined.”

“I don’t care,” I said, suddenly realizing it was true. I really didn’t care about all that crap I’d just been bitching about. Not really. I was with her. As nasty and yucky as she felt and, unfortunately, looked, it was still better than being anywhere else. I brushed her forehead with my fingers over and over, kissing her temple.

“Sleep Hermione.” And after a few minuted of brushing her forehead, she did.

And that’s how we spent Valentine’s Day.

::Sources/Inspiration::

Thank You – Tori Amos. Making love in the rain. God damn I love Tori Amos. This is a Led Zepplin cover, and the piano solo in the middle of the song, along with her vocals toward the end, are just so ridiculously gorgeous. Any Tori song would fit here. 1000 Oceans would work, too. Butterfly, Cooling... they'd all be perfect here as well. Pick your own.

Case of You – Joni Mitchell. Valentine’s Day.

Makambo – Red Shoe Diaries movie soundtrack. Just because I said so. I don’t understand a word of it, but it’s so freaking sexy. Inspired the beginning of the story.

9. Epilogue

Taste

by: Kate J

9/9

Rating: R - Shagging O’Plenty

Ship: H/Hr, of course. Is there another ship?

Summary: ...come to an end.

Spoilers: None

Author’s notes:

1. Thanks to everyone that’s been so kind about this. You’re all wonderful, beautiful people. Thank you.

2. I am a sinner. I admit I will not be one of the 177 thousand saved when Jesus comes back. I’ve accepted this. So please don’t flame me if the story is too graphic for your (insert religious preference and/or ignorant self-righteousness here) sensibilities. I will simply talk bad about you to everyone I know. It’s freakin Harry Potter fic, man. It’s all in good, naughty, fun. This is smut-fic, so be warned. You all know the disclaimer song- nope, not mine... JK... Scholastic... no money being made, etc. You don’t have to review, but thank you muchly if you do. :)

3. Thanks to Tracy, my Potter in crime...

~*Epilogue*~

“I’m getting married today.”

I stood in this unfamiliar place, the leaves swimming at my shoes. The sun had just woken up. I’d never been here before. I thought it was time I had.

Why is this so hard? Just talk, Harry.

“You would love her, I know you would.” I put my hands in my pockets, kicking the leaves and smiling.

“She’s pregnant. She told me yesterday.” Pause. “I’m going to be somebody’s dad. I think the idea freaks me out more than the actual fact.” I smiled, remembering Hermione telling me.

Pause.

“I wish you were here. I wish I could talk to you... ask your advice,” I said, looking at the headstones. “We’ll do fine. She’s brilliant. And I’ll always be able to take care of her thanks to you both. Seems silly to thank you for that, but I’m glad that I’ll always be able to provide for her.”

“And she’ll always take care of me.” Pause.

“She’s really happy. We both are. I’m probably happier than I should be. I was so happy when she told me.”

“We bought a house together 4 months ago when we graduated. We still haven’t completely unpacked and filled it up, despite help from our friends. She’s busy with her new bookstore. I’m busy with lesson plans for class. We’re busy with each other.”

I moved forward, crouching down and wiping the leaves off the tops of the square stones. I traced the inscriptions with my fingers.

‘Lily Evans-Potter.’

‘James Potter.’

“She makes me happy. I know that sounds simple. It is. That’s why it’s great.” I looked to the ground.

“I’m so scared to lose her.”

Pause.

“I’m scared that in a year, we’ll have this baby, and a bad person will come knocking at our door. And he’ll kill her. And he’ll kill me. And we’ll be gone.” I told them the familiar tale.

“And I know it’s silly, because I can’t live my life scared like that.” Pause. “It would just be a shame to lose all of this.”

“And I’m sorry you did. And I’m sorry for those times I was so mad... I was so mad... at you for leaving me. 'Cause I know you didn’t want to. I understand now how much you didn’t want to. And I know you fought.”

Keep it together.

“I know that in a way that I didn’t know before... that I couldn’t have known before her.”

I wiped my eye.

“I just want to put her in a box where no one can hurt her, or get to her ever. You know?”

Pause. “I might as well put her in a coffin if that’s how I want her to live. I can’t. I won’t do that to her. I just have to hope nothing ever happens. That’s all I can do... and it kills me.”

Long pause.

“We’re very quiet people.” I said, laughing out loud.

“There was always so much noise in my head. Constantly wondering and questions about you, or questions about who I was. Or questions about this stupid scar and what it meant,” I rubbed my head. “Being with her is like being on holiday from all that noise.”

Pause.

“We talk.” Pause. “Not a lot.”

“I talk to her when I need advice. We talk about the things we love. Our day, the house... our friends. We talk about the future and how lucky we are to always find each other.” Pause.

“ I talk to her... just because I love the sound of her voice.” Pause.

“We argue. Then we shut up. Then we make up,” I snickered. “It works, whatever it is.”

Pause.

“I miss you. I miss you in ways you’ll never understand. Ways I could never explain. I miss you today. I’m going to miss inviting you over for Christmas dinner. I’m going to miss telling my kid, ‘hey, lets go visit Grampa and Gram.’”

“I’m getting married today.” Pause.

“I love you.”

***

End

::Sources/Inspiration::

Plastic Bag Theme- American Beauty Soundtrack. The grave. I love this theme and really hope you listen to it while reading this.

Going Home – Girl Interrupted soundtrack (theme) – So beautiful.