12. At Hogwarts: Secui Unus
Chapter 12
At Hogwarts: Secui Unus
I know it's been a long, long, while since an update, but this was a pain in the ass to write. Pain. In the ass.
Libby. You're the best. You know it, too.
*~*~*
The next morning, Hermione woke early in the Head Girl's room and lay staring at the ceiling. The Welcoming Feast the night before had been all she expected: people staring, people whispering, people pretending not to stare, people pretending not to be talking about Harry. It had all been very irritating.
Dumbledore's speech, in Hermione's opinion, had been perfect; it was respectful and honored those who fought and lost their lives at the end of last year without dredging up terribly painful memories and being overly flowery to the point of losing its meaning. And he had not highlighted Harry more than absolutely necessary. She could have kissed Dumbledore for that part alone.
Hermione was even more frustrated at the fact she could only subtly comfort Harry. Under the table, she squeezed his hand reassuringly while Ron, Ginny, and Neville sat across from them. They had agreed to let their relationship become known while at Hogwarts, but decided it would be best if Harry tell Ron beforehand.
Which would happen after classes today. Which meant no handholding, snuggling, or snogging in public. All day. This might be the longest day of her life.
Sighing, Hermione rolled onto her side and found Harry lying in bed next to her. She frowned. “How long have you been there?” Harry had been in the Head Boy room last night.
“Just a few minutes, love.” Harry smiled and kissed her forehead. “You sleep too heavy.”
She glowered at him slightly. “I helped save the world; I earned it.”
Harry wrapped his arms around her, hugging her to his chest. “Yes, you did, Hermione.”
Hermione inhaled the smell of her love, snuggling closer into Harry's bare chest. She loved when he held her, feeling his strong arms around her, protecting her. He made her feel so delicate and safe.
Her eyes popped open suddenly and she sat up, leaning over Harry. “We start our N.E.W.T. classes today!” she said excitedly, enthusiasm coursing through her veins and voice. She leaped over Harry, wearing only a tank top and her panties, and ran to bathroom to prepare for the day.
Harry's groan from the bed reached her ears. “Hermione, you have loveliest bottom,” he told her, sitting up. “Come back to bed and let me show you what it does to me.”
She leaned out from the bathroom. “Harry,” she chastised mockingly, “we have to be at breakfast in an hour. It wouldn't do well if the Head Boy and Head Girl were both late on the first day of class.
He was beside her in an instant, his arms on either side of her head barring her way, his bare chest hovering in front of her. Hermione looked up into his face and her breath stopped at his smoldering green eyes. “We'll just have to make it quick then,” he told her in his low, deep voice that made her swoon.
Hermione felt her heartbeat quicken and excitement and arousal course through her at the thought of being with Harry, no matter how brief a period. Focus, the sensible part of her mind told her. Remember, school, N.E.W.T. classes…
N.E.W.T. classes! The forefront of her mind screamed. She could have Harry for the rest of her life; N.E.W.T. classes were only this year.
“No,” she told him. It took all her mental willpower to resist her body's physical desire to jump back into bed with Harry. “Not until you talk to Ron,” she added in an ultimatum. There, she thought, that'll give him incentive to talk to Ron.
Harry's jaw dropped slightly and a small glare came to his eyes. “Cheeky witch,” he muttered.
“But you love me,” Hermione smiled.
He smiled. “I do,” he said, “and I would kiss you, but I'm not sure I have the strength to stop at that.” His eyes raked her body. “You look absolutely delectable, 'Mione.”
Her breath caught again and the arousal pooled in her center. Focus! she told herself. “You need to stop tempting me, Harry,” she said, slipping under his arms and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. She heard Harry growl slightly behind the closed door and smiled. “Now, to N.E.W.T. classes.”
*~*~*
After settling and relaxing a moment in his Heads Dorm after the first day of class, long enough for Hermione to return from class and share a quick snog, Harry headed over to the Gryffindor seventh year boys' dorms to talk to Ron. He was dreading this conversation with his best friend somewhat; Ron had always had a strange affection toward Hermione.
Personally, Harry felt that it was only because Hermione was his female friend and wasn't a real crush, but he still didn't want to tell Ron that he had been shagging Hermione all summer. Maybe he would avoid that part. Just tell him they were dating. Yeah, that sounded like a plan.
Harry walked up to the Seventh Year boys' dorm in Gryffindor Tower and found Ron lounging across his bed reading a Chudley Cannons book. “Don't you have homework?” he asked in a mock stern voice.
Ron jumped up. “Merlin, Harry! Don't do that!” he scolded when he saw Harry laughing. “I almost thought Hermione'd possessed you.” He looked at him quizzically. “She didn't, did she? No hexes or anything?”
“Sorry, mate,” he chuckled. “You don't want to fall behind, though. N.E.W.T. classes would be a pain in the arse to catch up on.”
“Hermione has rubbed off on you,” Ron said, looking horrified. “You spent far too much time with her this summer.”
You have no idea how much, Ron, Harry thought to himself, and thought that was as good an opening to the conversation as any he would get. “So, Ron, how are… things with… stuff?” he asked slowly, and successfully creating the most awkward conversation starter ever.
Ron frowned at him perplexedly. “What's wrong with you, Harry? Are you alright?”
Harry let out a forced, exasperated breath. “I have to tell you something serious. And I don't know how.”
“Well, just say it. That might work.”
“It's not so simple as that. Merlin, I wish it were, though.”
“What's it about, can you say that simply?” Ron was beginning to look amused.
“It… has to do with Hermione,” Harry managed to say.
“Homework intervention?” the redhead asked. “You know I'm always here for you, mate. Any slacking off you need to do, I'll be right there with you,” he told Harry seriously.
Harry smiled but shook his head. “No, Ron, it's not that. I have to talk to you… about me and Hermione,” he started again, shifting from one foot to the other.
Ron looked confused, and maybe slightly apprehensive. “What about you and Hermione?”
“Well, Ron… She and I are kind of together now. Like a couple,” he elaborated. “I've had really strong feeling for her for a long time now,” he began rambling, “and I guess she has for me too, and over the summer, since we were spending so much time together, we kinda… got together…” He paused waiting for his words to sink in.
Ron looked at him for a moment. “So you're a couple now.”
It was more a statement than a question, yet Harry felt the need to answer. “Yes. A few weeks now.”
“And it's serious?”
Harry looked at his best friend, his first friend at Hogwarts. “I'm in love with her, Ron,” he said honestly.
Ron stared at him another moment, head cocked to one side, frowning slightly. “I'm going to need time to process this. It's… It's a big change, you two dating. I need to wrap my mind around this.”
Harry nodded. “Take your time, mate. It is a big change, for all of us,” he said honestly. “It just feels so natural, I don't know how else to describe it.”
“Please,” Ron told him seriously, an almost horrified look on his face, “don't describe it. Please.”
Harry laughed. “Ron, I assure you, I will never tell you more than you want or need to know about me and Hermione.”
“Good.” The word was short and abrupt, showing Ron's severe appreciation for the promise, and the subject changed to his friend's summer in Egypt and Romania.
Harry stayed in Gryffindor Tower a while longer, talking Quidditch with his fellow seventh years, sharing stories of their summer (Harry only shared his PG rated excursions), teasing one another about girls. Ron let it “slip” that Harry and Hermione were an “Item” and Seamus and Dean preceded with jokes inferring that Harry would become “whipped” now that he had a girlfriend. Harry had to admit their whip sound effects were realistic.
“Yeah, yeah,” Harry said. “At least I can get a date, you ugly sods.”
“Ohh…. Harsh, man!” Dean told him, feigning a stab wound to the heart. “But let's not forget my relationship with Miss Ginny,” he added pointedly.
“You stop right there, Thomas, you pillock!” Ron said severely, standing on his mattress and pointing at Dean. It actually looked almost comical for the tall lanky redhead to be ducking under the canopy of the four-poster bed while still trying to look menacing. “I don't want to hear any stories from you about my sister, unless you want a free trip to the hospital wing, you hear me?”
Harry couldn't help laughing with Seamus and Neville about the situation.
“Alright, Ron, I swear you won't hear anything about Ginny from me,” Dean promised. “I'll just tell all my stories to Seamus,” he grinned.
The four boys roared with laughter as Ron sputtered and fell off the bed in his anger and indignation. He seemed to have gathered himself somewhat as he stretched out in bed again, but refused to acknowledge any of them until the conversation drifted away from his sister.
They talked more of sports and classes and teachers and shared some stories of the war. They steered clear of the darker experiences, instead retelling the more humorous and amusing tales from those frightful months. Harry noticed the dark wave still passed over his friends' eyes, though not as deep a despair, with the humor of the situation still shining through. But it was muted. Every memory from those horrid months was tainted with the evil that possessed Voldemort.
“Remember when Ron's tracking spell messed up and instead of sneaking up behind the Death Eaters, we ran headlong into them?” Seamus recounted, laughing.
“Oh, man,” Ron said shaking his head and chuckling, “I thought we were all going to shite ourselves. Death Eaters included, the wankers.”
“You did shit yourself, Ron,” Harry laughed.
“And then Seamus cast that invisible doom shield thing,” Dean continued the story through breaks in his laughter, “and those bastards where fumbling around looking for us, and we literally hadn't moved from where they saw us last.”
“We sure did luck out of that one,” Neville commented solemnly, his laughter dying down. “With the Death Eaters being as startled as us.”
That brought up the somber memories of the war, where situations and people weren't as lucky, and Harry felt the need to cuddle with Hermione.
Glancing at his watch, Harry said, “Well, boys, it's time I got back to the Head Dorms. Still have to make my rounds, too.” He grimaced at that last part.
“Oh, yeah, Harry, you better get going,” Dean said, sounding almost worried. “Don't want to be late.”
“Yeah,” added Seamus, “wouldn't want to keep the little missus waiting coming back past curfew.”
“Oh, har har,” Harry told them all as they laughed. “You all know who wears the pants in the relationship.”
“Hermione,” they all said in unison and laughed uproariously as Harry shut the door on them.
“So who's this Anca that loves your red hair?” Harry heard Dean ask as he headed down the stairway followed by more raucous laughter.
*~*~*
The next few days at Hogwarts were ones Harry and Hermione would never forget. It wasn't lost to anyone, Harry being “The Hero” of the wizarding world and Hermione a sort of heroine to young witches, when they walked hand in hand to breakfast the second morning of classes. All heads whipped to them, stunned silence blanketing the Great Hall, then whispers broke out at once and Hermione smiled inwardly at the snatches of speculation and gossip she heard.
“…always knew Rita's article was true…”
“...might be a love potion…”
“…must have been during the war...”
“…best friends for years! Now a couple!”
Hermione had been prepared for the jealous glares from many girls. What did surprise her, though, was some of the girls who were glaring at her as Harry seated her near Neville and Ron for breakfast. Surely those first and second year students didn't think they had a chance at dating Harry!
Did they?
At least Hermione squashed that dream of theirs before it became an obsession.
That brought up an ugly thought: how many obsessed witches were out there that had fixated on Harry? How many were Hogwarts students?
Eh, Hermione inwardly shrugged, if the most powerful dark wizard in centuries can't kill me, none of these little witches should pose a threat.
Everywhere they went that day, whispers and glances preceded and followed them. Hermione didn't mind; it would die down in a few days. Or weeks. Maybe months. She did wonder when the news would leak out to the Daily Prophet or Witch Weekly or any other wizarding publication.
“I wonder how many owls were sent out during breakfast, eager to spread the news of `Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, Best Friends turned Lovers',” Harry commented dramatically while walking to class later that day.
Hermione laughed. “You make it sound like such a soap.” Though she was sure many of the children, and adults, would see it that way.
“Ah, but to them it is, Hermione,” Harry said, echoing her thoughts. “To them it's some scandal waiting to be unleashed! We could have so much fun with them if we wanted to,” he added slyly with a mischievous grin.
“Ooh, I can see the headlines now,” Hermione said, continuing the joke, “`Harry and Hermione, On-Again, Off-Again Relationship Once Again in Turmoil', and `Hermione Granger - Bad Influence on Harry Potter'.” She smiled up at Harry. “We should buy stock in the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly.”
Harry laughed with her. “At least we can always count on The Quibbler to report the truth if things get out of hand.”
“I wonder how Xenophilius is doing,” Hermione mused. “I should ask Luna when I see her.”
“I'm sure he's doing well, 'Moine,” Harry reassured. “Luna bounced back and Xeno is just as strong-willed as she is.”
During the war, Xenophillius Lovegood's The Quibbler was the only publication in the wizarding world not only brave enough to continue printing, but brave enough write the truth about Voldemort, especially after the bastard infiltrated the Ministry. This resulted in the attempted kidnapping of Luna and, when that failed miserably (as Luna was patrolling with Harry, Hermione and Seamus at the time), the successful kidnapping of Xenophilius.
After the Death Eaters attempt to take Luna, Hermione determined that her father was in danger as well. They had known it would only be a matter of time before Voldemort had his henchmen try to grab one or both of them.
Harry, Hermione, Luna, Anthony Goldstein, Susan Bones, and George Weasley had snuck into the new Death Eater Headquarters to rescue him, while Fred, Ron and others had created a diversion. Flying over the manor used as headquarters and pelting it and the Death Eaters with Portable Swamps, Wild-Fire Whiz-Bangs, Instant Darkness Powder, Decoy Detonators and various other new concoctions had been Fred and George's idea. George was almost upset he didn't get to participate in the diversion. Almost, until he hexed the first guard and decided that was much more fun.
“Did you ever figure out why I refused to stay at base camp when we rescued Xenophilius?” Hermione asked Harry quietly.
He shrugged slightly. “I figured it was your inherent obsession to help and refusal to be left behind,” he answered with a half smile.
Hermione rolled her eyes. “There's that,” she conceded, “but mostly because I needed to know you were safe. I needed to help you. I couldn't sit at camp not knowing what was happening.” She looked up at him. “Because I was so in love with you,” she said softly, emotion filling her at the memory, at her love for Harry, at the fear she had held in her before her insistence in participating caused Harry to yield.
“That's the reason I finally allowed you to come with me,” Harry admitted, stopping outside their Transfiguration class. “I knew if I didn't let you come with me, you would go with Ron. You would be safer with me; I could protect you need be. I would have been able to do whatever I needed to keep you safe.” His hand cupped her cheek. “Because I was so in love with you,” he finished with a tender smile that made Hermione's heart swell with affection.
“Oh, Harry,” she whispered, hugging him to her and kissing him.
“As touching as this is, Miss Granger and Mr. Potter,” a stern voice interrupted, “you still have class to attend to.”
The teens broke apart, grinning sheepishly. “Yes, Professor McGonagall.” Hermione felt her face burn red at being caught. By McGonagall, no less!
They hurried past her into the classroom, heads bowed in embarrassment. “Congratulations, you two,” she added with a rare small smile. “And thank you; I won seventy-three galleons from Severus, Albus, Remus, Filius, and Pomona in the pool,” she explained with a wink.
*~*~*
A few weeks into school, Harry received the `O.K.' from Professor McGonagall and Madam Hooch to hold Quidditch tryouts. Hermione didn't mind so much; she loved seeing Harry in those tight Quidditch trousers, showing off his splendid bum. What was better, he usually walked into her room to say hi before heading to the shower wearing nothing but his Quidditch pants, having stripped off his shirt and pads in the common room of the Heads' Dorm.
Harry walking around in only Quidditch trousers had to be one of the sexiest things Hermione had ever seen. The cloth clung to his body, showing the muscle definition is his arse and thighs. With his socks off, his beautifully defined calves were hers to gawk at as he walked. She could easily enjoy the sight of his broad shoulders tapering to his narrow waist and the muscles flexing as he moved, the lines of the erector spinae along his spine creating a lovely line that drew her eyes to his delicious arse.
Harry had such a beautifully muscled and toned body; Hermione could spend hours admiring it. Most of the time when he walked in wearing so little, his skin glistening with a slight sheen of sweat, his sweat-dampened hair hanging so casually in his eyes, Hermione abandoned studying and jumped on Harry with the intent on ravaging his body with her mouth and hands. This was probably why Harry had taken to always strolling around in only his Quidditch trousers so often.
This was exactly the case one evening when Hermione was studying Ancient Ruins.
Hermione glanced up from her textbook when she heard Harry walking in their room (it truly was their room, as Harry had stayed over one night last week and not left since). The intention had been to say hello to Harry, then return to her reading. When Hermione took in the sight of Harry, however, all thought of books and ruins and Hogwarts disappeared.
He looked exceptionally sexy and attractive tonight for some reason.
“Hey, 'Mione, how's Ancient Runes coming?” Harry asked casually, oblivious to her stare as he kissed the top of her head and rubbed his hands up and down her arms. The friction of his calloused hands sent shivers over her body and she wanted him to touch her more, rub his hands all over her naked body.
Before Hermione could act on her desire, Harry had crossed the room to his wardrobe and was pulling out clean pyjamas for the night. His bum looked remarkably bitable as he leaned back on one leg.
Hermione's eyes set with determination and she pounced, literally, on Harry. She flew into his arms as he turned, startling him slightly, and her mouth immediately latched to his, her tongue demanding entrance. Harry's arms wrapped around her waist, his clothes falling to the floor and held her tightly to him as he returned the kiss with equal fervor.
They turned, stumbling around and over furniture, and Hermione found herself pinned between Harry and the bureau door. His mouth left hers and moved along her jaw and down her neck. Hermione ran her hands through his hair, over his shoulders, over every inch of Harry's skin she could. She pulled his mouth back to hers as Harry's hands worked at the clasp of her skirt.
Her feet touched the floor, Harry kneeling before her, as he shimmied the skirt and panties down her legs, his lips pressing gentle kisses to her skin as it was exposed. Hermione suddenly felt the soft, plush carpet under her back and bare bum with Harry hovering over her. He leaned on one elbow, looking into her eyes, and tucked some hair behind her ear. Hermione closed her eyes and turned her face to press a kiss to his palm.
His finger stroked lightly down her neck and chest to the buttons of her school shirt. Harry tenderly touched his lips to hers as her opened her shirt. Grinning, Hermione rolled to straddle Harry, pinning his arms above his head. She kissed at his jaw and neck, licking the salty goodness of Quidditch sweat from his skin. She loved how he tasted so... natural and manly after working out.
Harry freed his arms from Hermione's distracted grasp and ran his hands up her calves and thighs, over her hips and arse, pressing her into his arousal, and under her shirt. She groaned against the skin of Harry's chest at the sensation of his calloused hands gliding up her body.
Strong fingers kneaded along Hermione's spine and she arched her back at the pleasure with a deep moan. Harry's fingers crept up to the bra clasp and unhooked it without a pause in rhythm.
“Ooh, strapless, Miss Granger,” Harry muttered as the bra fell completely from her body. “How naughty,” he added with a grin.
Hermione sat up on his waist wearing only her school shirt, tossing her bra aside as she ran her fingers over his torso, and Harry appraised her with brows raised. “I like you like this, 'Moine.” He leaned up to kiss her, his finger dancing over her bum, hips, and thighs. “You look simply ravishing,” he told her, his lips brushing against hers and stroking a finger along her center. She gasped and pressed her mouth to his.
Hermione kissed her way down his chest until she could strip Harry of his Quidditch trousers, freeing is hard, magnificent penis. She stroked his length gently and his eyes fluttered closed as pulled Hermione to his level. He kissed her, his tongue swooping past her lips to touch hers. Her legs straddled his, his member nestled against her womanhood, teasing her, so close, yet so far.
His hands danced up her legs to her hips. He gripped her waist, raising her body to lower her on his stiff member. She pulled back to watch Harry's face and her body slowly sunk on him. His eyes bore into hers with an intensity that nearly set her to climax.
Placing hands on either side of his head and not breaking eye contact, Hermione rose and fell on Harry, her forehead resting on his as both savored the slow and rhythmic motion. Harry's hands roamed her back and bum, travelled lightly up and down her legs and sending shivers through her body.
It felt like hours, it felt like moments, sharing kisses and caresses, passion and intensity climbing and building. Their pace increased with their desire, until Hermione was sitting up and slamming onto Harry as he was thrusting to meet her, and suddenly Hermione was crying out Harry's name, holding him tightly as he gave a final few thrusts with a deep groan of her name.
They laid in a tangle of limbs as their breathing slowed, Hermione listening to Harry's heart rate return to the normal lub-dub that was quickly becoming her favorite sound. His fingers toyed with her hair gently.
Hermione looked up at Harry from her position on his chest, her brow furrowed in thought. “Did you even have Quidditch practice tonight?” she asked suspiciously.
The smirk on Harry's face told the truth, but he replied with a question of his own, “Does it matter?”
I suppose it doesn't really, Hermione thought, her head returning to Harry's chest and a hand slinking its way down his torso to his magnificent penis. We both came out on top. Well, I literally did, Harry's member came to quick attention at her touch and she heard him inhale sharply, but no harm, no foul. Just fun. “And now for some more fun,” she said to herself as her tongue swirled around the smooth head of Harry's dick.
*~*~*
It was weeks into the school year, Halloween had come and gone (thankfully uneventful this year), the first Quidditch match of the season coming up that weekend, and Hermione still couldn't believe how much Hogwarts and her classmates had changed. The physical changes she understood, but the emotional transformations still amazed her; the resilience of the human heart and mind were astounding. Some changes were still emerging.
Lavender was one who had stunned her.
In past years, Lavender had annoyed Hermione to no end with her gossip and dribble about boys, and obsession with fashion and make-up. Hermione was always bewildered that Lavender, or Parvati even, was elected into Gryffindor House. That is, until the war.
Everyone had shown their true colors and virtues when the war started to peak. Hufflepuffs showed their loyalty to Dumbledore and Hogwarts and the dedication to good; Ravenclaws used their intelligence and cleverness for planning and strategy; Gryffindors with their bravery, their courage leading others to find theirs. And the Slytherins showed theirs by looking out for Numero Uno. Thankfully, most of the Slytherins simply left and sat out the battles, not partaking in fighting alongside Voldemort.
Lavender and Parvati had stepped up with all the Gryffindors, choosing to stay and fight in the Final Battle, instead of leaving with the younger years. The two girls were quieter now, more mature. Many people were, after the war, but Lavender more so anyone else. Hermione suspected it was her near death encounter with Fenrir Greyback that affected her so much more than others. Hermione remembered it clearly; she had been the one to save Lavender, stunning the werewolf before he had done much damage. Lavender still had the scars, one long thin line along her jaw, another across her collarbone.
Lavender glanced up, seeing Hermione watching her. She smiled hello and Hermione returned it, and Lavender went back to her book and breakfast, ignoring the ruckus around her. Though it came at a hard price, the maturity suited her well.
Neville walked down the aisle between the long house tables and sat across from her, fell onto the bench mostly, and began talking to her while grabbing all the food within reach. Hermione smiled at him as he rambled and ate, thinking back to their first year, even the beginning of their sixth year. Neville was definitely one who had changed since the war, changed the most she believed.
It wasn't only Neville's physical appearance that had changed, though that had significantly. He was leaner now, his face showing his cheekbones, and his body starting to fill out with muscular definition. Most of the scars on his face were gone, with the exception of the one on his cheek, but they all left their mark in changing Neville.
Emotionally, Neville had changed even more. Even a year ago, he was clumsy and awkward and a friend you almost overlooked or took for granted. He had never expected much of himself, never thought to do anything spectacular. Then Voldemort rose to power again. There was no greater change in one person than in Neville Longbottom.
In a way, he was more carefree and relaxed - the danger was over, there could be no more terror in his life - and in some ways he was the strong, quiet, brooding man of secrets. It was an odd combination he was pulling off splendidly. And the girls were loving it. Hermione speculated that Neville might very nearly have as many secret admirers as Harry.
“You okay, Hermione?” Neville asked, breaking into her thoughts.
“Hmm? Oh, yes, just thinking,” she smiled. Her smiled faded and she looked at him seriously. He needed to hear this from someone. “Neville, you are a great man, and a good friend, an amazing person. I… I don't know that the War would have gone as well as it had, if you hadn't been there. You need to know that.”
He stared at her, then dropped his eyes to the table, a small, shy smile on his face. Meeting her eyes again, words failed him, and he reached out to grasp her hand with his. He held her hand tightly, and she squeezed back just as firmly, understanding his meaning.
*~*~*
“Do you want help studying, Harry?” Hermione asked, trailing fingers across his neck and she walked around him to the other chair at the table in the library.
“Nope, I'm good,” he said, grinning at her and hiding a piece of parchment from her.
She smiled slightly. “What are you working on? Can I see?”
Harry shrugged. “Just studying Potions; nothing to see, 'Moine.”
She raised her eyebrows and nodded. Then pulled the sheet from where he had pushed it. Her eyes skimmed the few lines on the page. “Harry!” she exclaimed, fighting a laugh. “Is this what you've been working on for hours?”
Harry took the parchment back from her and, clearing his throat dramatically, read aloud.
A tree is like the clouds up high
Except it's in the ground
The clouds are like your bluish eyes
Except your eyes are brown
He looked at her expectantly with a pleased grin on his face.
“You've been in the library for hours and this is all you've done?” The fact was so… pathetic. She grimaced at thinking at that, but Hermione couldn't deny that's what she felt.
“You don't like it?”
“No, I do, it's very cute, Harry,” she said quickly. “But you've been here for hours…”
Harry laughed. “Oh, 'Mione, you're so silly.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “That only took like five minutes. The rest of the time, I was studying Potions. I think I'm good for the day.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. Harry could be so… She didn't know the word to describe him. Cheeky, came to mind. “Okay, Study King, let me quiz you, then we'll call it a day.”
“Do I get a treat if I win?” he asked with a shameless grin and a waggle of his eyebrows.
“Do you want a treat?” She blushed. She shouldn't encourage him. But he was so charming and cute and undeniably Harry.
Leaning closer, his voice dropped to a husky whisper, “You know what I want, sweets.” His bright jade green eyes bore into hers and her breath caught in her chest.
Pulling her eyes away from him was a challenge, but she managed it, and began quizzing him. “What are the ingredients for the Hiccoughing Solution?”
Harry's jaw dropped. He closed it, mumbling, “I better get something for this,” before leaning back in his chair and answering the question.
“I'm so proud of you, Harry!” Hermione exclaimed half an hour later. “You didn't get any wrong!”
Harry sat up straight and Hermione could almost see the wheels turning in his mind. If Hermione was proud of him, maybe he'll get a “treat”. I suppose I could give him something. And it's not like it's a chore for me, she thought with a smile. Let him lead me to it, though.
“Do I get a reward?”
She arched an eyebrow with a small smile. “A reward?” she inquired.
“Yeah, positive reinforcement, sweets! Best way to get repeated good behavior!”
“That is a valid argument, Harry,” Hermione conceded. Harry's face brightened. “What do you propose for your reward?”
Harry's eyes shifted to look down an aisle. They were in the back of the library and it was late in the night; it was very quiet and they were very alone.
Taking her hand, he gently pulled Hermione to her feet. Pressing a finger to her lips and, giving her a mischievous grin, lead her down the row of book-lined shelves. Near the end of the aisle, he turned her to face him. He kissed her as his hands slid along her back. She moaned against his lips as Harry's hands massaged her back and bum, and felt him smile.
Seizing control, Hermione slipped her hand down Harry's trousers and grasp his manhood. She leaned back and smiled as he gasped in surprise. His eyes were closed and he moaned slightly as she stroked him in his pants.
“Riisuudu,” Hermione said softly and gave another smile as Harry's trousers and belt came undone. Turning and pushing him back against the books, Hermione shimmied down to her knees, pressing her body against Harry. His penis stood out straight and long and hard from his pants, and she took a moment to admire it, her fingers still stroking.
Hermione ran her tongue down along the shaft to the head, circling it slowly, and was rewarded with a groan from Harry. Taking his length fully in her mouth, her hand gripping it along with her lips, Hermione moved her head and hand together, eliciting gasps and moans of her name from the man above. Harry's hands slid into her hair, his finger massaging her scalp in time to the pleasure she was giving him.
With his manhood in her mouth and his fingers wrapped in her hair, Hermione marveled at how much she truly enjoyed going down on Harry. It was so empowering! She really must do this more often. While he was pleasuring her would be perfect.
She gave a low moan at the thoughts and images of her and Harry tangled together, mouths licking and teasing one another, and she felt Harry jerk and twitch and give a deep, long groan of her name as her mouth filled with his climax. She swallowed and slowly continuing her ministrations, as he slumped further against the bookcase.
After a few moments, Hermione stood, smiling at Harry. “How was that for a reward?” she asked as his hand cupped her cheek.
Harry shook his head, grinning, and pulled her lips to his. “With that for incentive, I'll get straight O's this year.”
*~*~*
Secui Unus: Part One in Latin
Riisuudu: Finnish for undress. Sounds so cool!
This chapter was more random scenes of Hogwarts school life, which is very difficult to write, fyi.
So, this was a few years in the making. The story got away from me as life intervened. I do have plans and ambitions to finish this, however, and I sincerely apologize to those who have been waiting so long for an update. I hope it was long enough to somewhat appease you.
A few things happened, like college, and graduation, and credential program, and adapted physical education added-authorization portfolio, computer crashed, bike crash, new jobs, bike crash, broken elbow, student teaching. I'm more than happy to answer any questions.
Anca: Romanian pet form of Greek Hanna, meaning "favor; grace", from www.20000-names.com/female_romanian_names.htm Anca sounded cool.
The Quidditch pants were based a bit off the uniforms of American football players. Very sexy, for the record.
A tree is like the clouds up high
Except it's in the ground
The clouds are like your bluish eyes
Except your eyes are brown
- Inspired by George and Gracie radio program. Awesome, funny and wholesome stuff.
I would like to thank Andrei of Russia, vishstudio on deviantART, for photographing such attractive, sexy, and tone men that have helped inspire and entertain me.
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