Dudley's Girlfriend

greenevans

Rating: NC17
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 30/07/2008
Last Updated: 06/04/2013
Status: in_progress

Dudley has a girlfriend, & Harry’s been relentlessly teasing him about her. Dudley retaliates by with the typical, “At least I have a girlfriend,” causing Harry to pull out a picture of Hermione and claim she’s his girlfriend. What happens when the Grangers show up at the Dursley’s and Dudley demands proof of Harry and Hermione’s “relationship”? My submission for the totally awesome "Invitation-only KiwiMelon15 Challenge" Officially NC-17 as of Ch 7

Chapters

1. Dudley's Girlfriend

2. Toilets and Clothes

3. Of Bribery and Men

4. Bloody Nosey Parents

5. Life-Size Harry Dress-Up Doll

6. Sun on the Beach!

7. Wanking Woes and Repayment

8. Hide-and-Seek

9. Carbo-Load

10. Summer Daze

11. To Hogwarts

12. At Hogwarts: Secui Unus

1. Dudley's Girlfriend

Dudley's Girlfriend

By: Amanda, a.k.a. Rosie

Based on an idea from Silver Dragon. Also part of *big announcer voice* “The Invitation-only KiwiMelon15 Challenge”.

Disclaimer: Yeah, I'm as stupid as JK Rowling. Not.

Also, I'm posting this without it having been “officially beta-ed”. I've read through it several times so it should be peachy-king, fine-and-dandy

This is set with the background that Voldermort was killed at the end of sixth year. And Dumbledore didn't die and isn't gay*.

Summary: Contrary to the title, the story has NOTHING to do with Dudley or his girlfriend (thank God, right). Dudley has a girlfriend, & Harry's been relentlessly teasing Dudley about her. Dudley retaliates by with the typical, “At least I have a girlfriend,” causing Harry to pull out a picture of Hermione and claim she's his girlfriend. What happens when the Grangers show up at the Dursley's and Dudley demands proof of Harry and Hermione's “relationship”?

*Please see Author's Note at end of Chapter One

*~*~*

“Aww, Duddykins going to see his wittle girlfriend,” Harry teased as he followed his cousin up the stairs. “Well, she's not so little, is she, Dudley? She's got a good size on her.” He leaned casually against the doorframe of his room watching Dudley's retreating back continue down the hall, Harry commented, “What's she five foot six, two-fifty?”

Dudley turned, anger in his eye. Seeing the smirk on Harry's face upset him more. Harry, knowing what was going through his cousin's slow brain, crossed his arms. “Now, Dudley,” he said, “need I remind you that I am seventeen years old, of age in the wizarding world, a legal adult and able to perform magic outside of Hogwarts.”

Dudley paused in his advance on Harry, his eyes narrowing as if trying to read a bluff. “You wouldn't,” he replied finally. “Dad'll beat you good and lock you in the cupboard.”

Harry blew air through his lips creating a sputtering sound of mockery. “Yeah, I'm sure,” he told Dudley sarcastically before backing into his room. “Have fun with your hippo tonight,” he called out before shutting his door. Hippo was the name Harry had taken to using when referring to Dudley's girlfriend since the girl had come to meet the family (minus Harry, of course, but he'd caught a glimpse of her). While his Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had fawned over how cute a couple they were, Harry believed there had been a mix up with the cages at the zoo. Since when did hippos and pigs breed?

Seething, Dudley barged into Harry's room.

“Ever heard of knocking?” Harry asked from where he was lying on his bed.

“You know what?” Dudley yelled, ignoring Harry's question. “At least I have a girlfriend!”

“Are you implying I don't have a girlfriend? What would give you any reason to say one way or another?”

“Who would want to date a freak like you?” Dudley pressed. “You're a freak among your other freaks.”

“Yes, because `Mister Former-Junior-Boxing-Champion' over here is such a desirable catch.” Harry sat up on the bed and swung his legs over the edge. “Dudley, leave my room, now,” he told him seriously.

“HA! I am right! You don't have a girlfriend and you're jealous of me because I do!”

“Yes, that's precisely it; I'm envious that you're dating a whale.”

“And now you admit it!” Dudley stated triumphantly, missing the obvious sarcasm in Harry's words.

Fed up with Dudley and vastly annoyed by him, Harry realized the only way to shut his cousin up and get him out of the room was to prove him wrong. “You don't think I have a girlfriend?” Not waiting for an answer, he went to his nightstand and picked up a picture of Hermione and him taken earlier that spring. He stared at a moment, reflecting on the day it was taken, how gorgeous Hermione had looked. “This is my girlfriend,” he told Dudley, handing him the frame, hoping Hermione wouldn't find out and hex him within an inch of his life.

Dudley's eyes grew wide. “The picture!” he gasped. “It's- It's m-moving!”

“Well, it's from the wizarding world, you dolt,” Harry responded, taking the picture back and gazed down at it, watching as the picture versions of himself and Hermione hugged slightly and waved at the camera.

“It's that the girl you're with at the train station every year? Hermione?”

Harry nodded absentmindedly, not caring how Dudley recalled her name, still absorbed in the beauty of Hermione. “Why wouldn't I be if she's my girlfriend?” he said, wishing more than anything those words were true. At the end of fifth year, Harry had realized he cared for Hermione a great deal, and throughout their sixth year (after having some surprising and arousing thoughts regarding him, her, and a empty Quidditch locker room), he came to the conclusion he loved her in the romantic sense. Feelings as strong as his for her could only mean that.

“She's been your girlfriend all these years?” Dudley asked, looking impressed and awed.

“No, you prat. We were best friends until the end of this year, when we became involved.”

“Have you shagged her?”

Harry glared at him. For one, he seemed a little too eager to know, and two, that's not something Harry would be willing to share with Dudley.

“Dudley, leave before I get my wand. Why don't you go get ready to return your girlfriend to the wild animal park?”

Dudley glowered at Harry. “You're lucky I need to change,” he muttered, exiting the room, the door shutting behind him.

Harry let out a sigh of relief. “Thank Merlin,” he said, reaching for his wand and locking the door.

Feeling tired, Harry felt a nice nap was in order. He hadn't slept much the night before. He'd stayed up to finish some homework then had one of the various nightmares he endured and hadn't been able to go back to sleep after waking. This time, he didn't see dark, scary things of death, but beautiful, calming memories of him and Hermione.

*~*~*

A warm weight was on him, straddling his waist, firm, tender breasts pressed to his chest, soft lips against his, delicate hands grazing his skin. Her tongue touched his bottom lip seeking entrance and he willingly opened his mouth to hers.

He brought his hands over her smooth back to her bushy hair. “Hermione…” he gasped as her lips skimmed down his neck. He moved his hands to cup her butt pulling her down as he thrust up himself up slightly, showing her what she was doing to him.

“Harry,” she moaned, feeling his arousal pressing into her. “I want to taste you,” she told him, placing kisses down on his bare chest heading towards the erection straining in his boxers. She slipped the interfering article of clothing off his body and eyed him appraisingly. “Oh, Harry, I must say I'm impressed,” she said before lowering her head.

Tap, tap, tap

Harry woke to a small noise and the morning sun creeping through his window. A look at the clock told him he had slept the rest of yesterday and all throughout the night, and it was now six a.m.

Hmm, thinking about Hermione helps more ways than one, he thought with a grin, have to keep that in mind…

Tap, tap, tap

There it was again; that infernal sound that woke him from his wonderful dream. He glanced at the window and saw Hedwig there, clutching a note in her beak. Pulling on his glasses, he could make out his name written in the neat cursive that was Hermione's.

Grinning madly, he leapt out of bed, his morning wood momentarily forgotten in his eagerness to read what Hermione had to say.

Harry,

Since Ron is visiting Bill in Egypt with his family, my parents and I are coming tomorrow to take you to get your school supplies. And so you won't have to go back to those awful people that are your relatives, you will be spending the remainder of the summer at my house.

I won't take no for an answer, Harry James. We'll be at your house at eleven sharp, so be ready. See you tomorrow.

Love from,

Hermione

“As if I'd say no,” Harry muttered to himself, stripping and walking into the private bathroom he'd conjured for himself as soon as he was able to legally. Spending the rest of the summer with Hermione was his idea of heaven.

Thinking of Hermione returned his attention to what his dream had caused. He stepped under the warm spray that cascaded down his body, imagining it was Hermione's fingers caressing his body. His thoughts turned to his dream as he soaped his body, remembering how Hermione felt on top of him, what she was about to do to him, what he wanted to do to her. His lathered hand moved to grasp himself, sliding from head to base and back again.

Imagining Hermione's body against him, he thrust repeatedly into his hand. Her curves at his finger tips, her tight, wet warmth wrapped around him, her beautiful brown eyes staring into his, her full pink lips curling into a smile as she whispers three little words to him…

Harry groaned, leaning back on the shower wall, her name escaping his lips in a breath as he came.

He smiled sadly, resuming his shower. Dreams, fantasies, and masturbation will have to suffice, he thought, since I'll never have the real thing.

*~*~*

On his own accord, Harry woke at six-thirty the next morning, excitement coursing through his veins. He had thought of nothing else but her arrival since receiving Hermione's letter. He was nervous, anxious, enthusiastic, and praying that being so near to her, yet so far away wouldn't kill him

Two hours later, he had eaten (as much as he queasy stomach would allow), packed, and showered and was now pacing nervously in his room with Hedwig watching him as she sat sleepily in her cage.

Thinking back to breakfast when he had informed his aunt and uncle Hermione was coming over later that day, he scowled, hoping his “family” would mind their manners.

“Yes, Vernon,” Harry had said in a bored tone, refusing to give his uncle a respective title anymore, “she's like me, but her parents are like you.”

“So they'll know my pain,” Vernon had replied form behind the business page of the paper.

Harry rolled his eyes, thinking, His pain my arse. Too happy about Hermione coming later that day to start an argument, he had gone straight up to his room and packed.

Ten-thirty rolled around and Harry checked his appearance for the eighth time since getting dressed. “Maybe I should wear the black sweater she gave me for Christmas,” he mumbled, looking at the reflection of him in loose blue jeans and a black shirt that showed his muscle definition. “No, too hot for a sweater.”

“Talking to yourself, freak?” Dudley asked form the doorway.

“Dudley, how would you like to be in a full body bind?”

“Why do you care so much how you look? It's only one of your freak friends coming to get you.”

“Don't say that about Hermione,” Harry replied slowly through a clenched jaw.

“The girl from the picture? Hmm…” Dudley said as if in thought, leaving the room.

Harry nodded, not realizing his cousin had left, his attention focused on the link of his shirt. Palming his wand he muttered a cleaning charm that acted as a lint roller and waved his wand over his body. “Better,” he said, checking his appearance as the doorbell rang.

At that simple sound, Harry's eyes widened, his head snapped in the direction of the door and the butterflies in his stomach increased tenfold.

“It's just Hermione, just Hermione,” her repeated to himself quietly as he headed quickly down the stairs. Yeah, just Hermione, who you're in love with and who doesn't know it.

He reached the entry hall when Hermione was stepping through the door his uncle held open for her and stood in awe at the beauty before him. Her hair, no longer bushy but curly and full, hung loose around her shoulders, her fitted sundress ending at mid-thigh accentuated her slim figure, the light pink color of the material looked perfect on her. It was a simple dress, but looked exquisite on her.

Her eyes met his and she smiled happily at him. “Harry,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck as his encircled her waist, “I missed you so much.”

Harry pulled her close to him, inhaling her scent. Strawberry vanilla. “You look so beautiful, 'Mione,” he whispered, barely audible, “and you wouldn't believe how much I missed you.”

Whatever Harry expected Hermione's reaction to be to that, it didn't come. Instead, her embrace seemed to tighten around him. Vaguely in the background, he heard his uncle say, “Dr. Granger, what brings you to our home?”

“What?” Harry said, reluctantly drawing away from Hermione as Vernon's words sunk in. “You know the Grangers?” he asked thoroughly confused.

“The Grangers are our dentist, boy,” he replied, placing emphasis on our. The Dursleys had never taken Harry to a dentist; it really was a wonder he still had all his teeth, “as if it's any of your concern.”

Hermione frowned at him, an expression Harry was sure was mirrored on his own face. “Let's get your trunk, Harry, we don't want to have to spend any more time here than necessary. I'll introduce you in the car,” she added, knowing Harry was going to say he needed to meet her father.

“Alright, my trunks in my room.”

She nodded, calling over her shoulder as she headed up the stairs, “We'll be right down, Daddy.”

Harry followed Hermione upstairs, watching the sway of her hips as she took each step, then chastising himself for staring so blatantly at her. Then continuing to stare. He was a teenage male, after all.

She led him right to his room and he was impressed she remembered that his would be the one with the numerous locks on the outside doorframe. Throwing a few shirts he was debating to change into at the last minute in his trunk, they were in the middle of locking it, enjoying the easy small talk about Dudley's second bedroom when Dudley himself stopped in the doorway.

“So this is your girlfriend?” he asked, eyeing her disgustingly and appraisingly.

Harry moved so he was standing in front of her, blocking Hermione from his perverted view. “Go away, Dudley, I'm trying to leave.”

“Easy, cousin,” he replied, causing Harry to narrow his eyes. Dudley never acknowledged they were related. “I just want some proof.”

“Proof of what?” Harry asked, knowing full well what he meant.

“That you're really dating. I think you were lying to me, and you couldn't get a girlfriend, even another freak like you, if your life depended on it. And there's no way in hell you could get someone as hot as her.”

Harry's eyes blazed angrily before panic overtook him. Oh, shite, Harry thought, not caring what Dudley's opinion of him was, Hermione's going to kill me. I can't lose Hermione's friendship, especially not for something as stupid as this. And I'm quite sure I'm overreacting but, dear Merlin, I'm a guy, that's what I do with the opposite sex.

At a loss for what to do, Harry simply stood there, staring at Dudley with hatred in his eyes. Then he felt her hand on his shoulder, touching lightly, asking him to turn. He faced her, his back now to Dudley and the door. He mouthed his apologies to her repeatedly, only stopping when she placed her hand softly to his cheek. Not to slap him, but to sooth him.

“Harry, if he wants proof, why not give it to him and prove him wrong?” she told him with a quick wink and small smile.

“Um…okay,” he responded slowly, automatically, no other words coming to mind and not realizing how Hermione intended to prove to Dudley they were dating.

Comprehension dawned on him when her hand moved from his check to the back of his head, the other sliding up his chest to his neck. Instinctively, his hands went to her hips, then around her back pulling her close to him. Even if it isn't real, I'll take what I can get, he thought miserably.

Hermione tilted her head up, bringing Harry's to meet her. He grazed his lips against hers in a gentle, chaste kiss. He went to pull away, but the pressure form Hermione's hands refused to let him. Harry had no choice but to continue kissing her. Poor me, he thought slyly, his mouth forming a slight grin against Hermione's.

As if taking his smile as a cue, Hermione's mouth opened under his, her tongue brushing across his lower lip. Again on instinct, and maybe partially shock, Harry parted his lips to her, allowing her to deepen the kiss.

It was so perfect for Harry, excluding that Dudley was watching. Her mouth tasted so sweet, so uniquely Hermione. His hands moved to her hair, cradling her head softly.

He felt his body begin to react to their closeness and actions and had to fight to control it. Judging from the very quiet moan Hermione gave into his mouth, he hadn't completely succeeded.

“That's, uh, proof enough,” Dudley stammered. Hearing his cousin's voice brought him back to reality and Harry reluctantly broke apart from Hermione, his chest heaving. He stared at her in amazement and admiration, thinking in the back of him mind she looked disappointed, while in the forefront he was wondering, Why on earth would she do that for me?

“We better get back downstairs,” he said to her, turning from her and lifting his trunk and Hedwig's cage. “Your dad'll be wondering what's taking so long.”

“Harry,” Hermione said in the hall, “as much as I enjoy seeing your muscles in action, there's an easier way to do that.” She pulled out her wand, giving her wrist a swish and flick, murmuring the levitation charm and directing the trunk to the entry hall, the owl cage perfectly balanced on top. “Now you can do this,” she added softly, taking his hand in hers.

Words, yet again, escaped him and he stared down at his fingers laced with hers. Her hand was so warm, so soft. Just like her, Harry thought, a smile coming to his face as they walked down the stairs.

Seeing Hermione's parents standing near the door conversing with his aunt and uncle sent a jolt of fear through Harry and he dropped Hermione's hand from his. He immediately regretted it, missing the soothing comfort of her hand instantly and the slightly hurt expression on her face nearly broke his heart in two.

“Actually, we're quite proud of our daughter,” Dr. Granger was telling Vernon Dursley. “She's the top of her class and has become quite accomplished.”

“And I must admit, some spells do come in handy around the house,” added Hermione's mother with a laugh. “Oh, there you are, dear,” she said catching sight of Harry and Hermione.

“Harry,” her father began, offering his hand, which Harry shook, “a pleasure to finally meet you properly. Hermione's told us a good deal about you.”

“Nice to finally meet you, too, Dr. Granger, both of you. And most of what you heard is most likely exaggeration.”

“Please, call us Robert and Helen, and somehow I doubt Hermione exaggerated at all.”

“Deliberately withheld information is probably more accurate,” included his wife. “Hermione said you were good looking, but she neglected to tell me how very handsome and so fit you were.”

“Mother!” Hermione hissed from his side, blushing crimson.

“Thank you, ma'am,” Harry felt his face warm as well at the compliment, and that Hermione thought he was good looking.

“Well, why don't we get going, then?” Robert said before his wife could embarrass his daughter further. “Have everything, Harry? I don't believe you'll be coming back for some time. If ever,” Harry distinctly heard him mutter.

“Yes, sir, I'm sure,” Harry answered, holding back his laughter. I'm not the only one that dislikes the Dursleys.

“Well, good,” he said, clapping his hands together. “We'll stop off at the house to drop off your trunk before heading into London.”

“Yes, sir.” He turned toward his relatives, the ones who had so poorly cared for him the past sixteen years. “Well, bye. Maybe I'll stop by after graduation,” he said politely, without emotion before walking out the door, his trunk floating in front of him to the car where they placed his trunk in the boot.

“Thank you for letting me rescue Harry, Daddy,” Hermione said as she and Harry slid in the back seat of the car.

“Yes, thank you very much, sir,” said Harry, “I really appreciate it. I can only entertain myself for so long in that house.”

“Think nothing of it, Harry,” Helen smiled. “After all the times you've saved our little girl, it's the least we can do.”

“I actually think Hermione's saved me more than I've saved her. She's the brains behind our…escapades. I'm just the one that's usually the reasoning behind it.”

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. “You swear like it's your fault, Harry. And half the time I have to force you to let me come along so I can save your neck.”

“Yeah, but 'Mione, if it weren't for me-” he began, turning to face her, but she silenced him.

“Harry, it's not your fault, okay?” she said, taking his hands in hers. “Stop blaming yourself, please, Harry? We'll talk more about this later,” she added with a subtle gesture toward her parents in the front seat.

He sighed heavily and nodded, recognizing to some extent, Hermione was right. He looked at her soft hands holding his rough ones, then up to meet her chocolate eyes. Harry felt a sudden, strong surge of affection, more so than usual, towards her that made his head spin.

That she could calm him with just a touch or a few choice words was what one of the things he loved most about her. Second only to the fact that she saw him as Harry, not The-Boy-Who-Lived (or the Man-Who-Conquered or whatever they were calling him these days), and stuck by his side enough to help him after endangering her life so many times.

Harry heard Hermione's mother give an odd sort of hum from the passenger seat and he looked up to see her having some sort of non-verbal conversation with her husband at the stoplight. He turned to Hermione again, giving her a questioning look with a glance at her parents. She gave a shrug in response before he realized they were doing the same thing as the Grangers. The thought caused a grin and a small laugh.

“What's so funny, Harry?” Hermione asked, a smile of her own creeping to her face at his random laughter.

“I'll tell you later, 'Mione,” he replied, lacing her fingers with his giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Okay, Harry.” He felt her watch as he laid his head back on the seat and closed his eyes. “Tired?”

“Mm-hmm. Got up early; too excited to sleep.”

“Why were you so excited?”

“'Cause you were coming,” he answered, cracking his eye a bit to gauge her reaction. She was blushing; he made her blush. He smirked a bit at the thought, feeling pleased himself.

“Oh,” was all she said. After a moment, she laid her head on Harry's shoulder and he never wanted her to leave.

*~*~*

Thanks for reading. Please leave your thoughts.

Chapter 2 soon

=)

* My reasoning for omitting Dumbledore's sexual orientation is simply because it had absolutely no relevance to the story. I have nothing against homosexuals or anyone in the gay community in general. But I do not see what Dumbledore being gay could possibly add to the story, especially when Rowling announces it after the series is completed.

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2. Toilets and Clothes

Chapter 2

Toilets and Clothes

Thank you for all the reviews. They are much appreciated. To reiterate, yes Voldemort has been defeated, at the end of sixth year, and no, I am not homophobic. Thank you.

Today is my birthday, so I am now another year older and a few years wiser, and decided to post the next chapter. Twenty-three feels so old sometimes, yet so young…

I love to hear birthday wishes ;)

And I'm not lying, kids; August 3rd, 1985, 4:33 am (a few short hours from my West Coast time), after seven hours of labor, this *points at self* little bundle of joy came into the world

And everybody: Aw…

*~*~*

Harry must have dozed off. The next thing he knew, Hermione was shaking him gently. “Wake up, Harry, we're home.”

Harry had never associated the word `home' with anything other than Hogwarts, but hearing the words “we're home” coming from Hermione's mouth, he realized where ever she was, that would be his home. With her. Home is where the heart is and his heart belonged to her and her alone. If she'll have me, which I doubt, he thought dejectedly getting out of the car and dragging his trunk to the front door. Like Dudley said, I'm even a freak among my friends.

Taking a moment to look at her house, Harry thought this was the ideal home for the Grangers. Very modest and quaint, two stories with pale yellow paint and white trim. Walking in, he could see evidence of her growing up with loving, proud parents. Pictures from various grades framed on the mantle or hung on the wall along with family photos and numerous certificates of achievement.

Harry gazed around the tidy, well-furnished room feeling poignant and envious, wishing he still had what most teenagers take advantage of: parents.

Hermione came up beside him, both her arms wrapping around his left. “I'm sorry, Harry,” she said quietly, sincerely.

He gave a small, sad smile, not the least surprised she knew what was bothering him. “It's not your fault, Hermione. No need to apologize.”

“I know it's not my fault, but I…just wish I could make it right. That I could help.”

“You do help, 'Mione,” he told her, turning to face her and placing his hands on her shoulders, “everyday you're there for me, everyday you've been my friend. Knowing you care is enough,” he finished softly.

“As touching as this is, kids,” Robert interrupted, “we have a bit of a drive to London, so we better get going.”

“You know, Robert,” Helen said, coming from the kitchen where she'd been, “I think it'd be better to go tomorrow. It's already been a long day and I'm not really up for drive to London.”

“But they need -” Robert began before his wife cut him off.

“They still have over three weeks, sweetie. We can go tomorrow. Don't tell me you're up for driving to London and back?”

“Well, I have a bit of energy.”

“You have energy, do you?” Helen repeated with an arched brow and gleam in her eye. “I know what you can do with that energy,” she said moving closer to her husband.

Harry looked between the two adults, hoping they wouldn't start with sexual innuendos for his and Hermione's sakes. Parents, even if they weren't his, and sex wasn't something he wanted to think about. And he was sure Hermione didn't either.

“And what's that?” Robert questioned, a smirk on his face as he encircled his wife's waist in his arms pulling her closer to him.

Helen moved her mouth closer to his ear and Harry's eyes widened in fright. “Fix the downstairs toilet,” she whispered.

Harry and Hermione broke out in laughter at Helen's words and the shocked and disappointed look on Robert's face.

“Bloody hell,” he grumbled, letting Helen go and walking towards the stairs.

“Hermione, show Harry the guest room, please,” her mother requested.

“Sure, Mum. Follow me, Harry,” she said, levitating and directing his trunk up the stairs.

The top of the stairs found him in the middle of a hallway and Hermione explained the general layout of the house.

“To the right is the master room and bath, my parents' room, you know,” she gestured, “it's over the kitchen and living room. I learned to be careful about sitting up and reading down there late at night. The door straight across is the upstairs bathroom. Down here on the left is the guest room, your room while you're here,” she opened the door to a spacious room of neutral colors, decorated in different shades of blue with an oak desk and matching dresser. The window looked over the lawn and street and Harry figured he was over the garage.

Hermione set his trunk down at the foot of the double bed and Hedwig's cage on the table near the window. “You'll be sharing the bathroom with me. Sorry in advance if you find anything you're not used to seeing that gives you the creeps.”

Harry chuckled. “I'm sure I'll be alright. I should be apologizing, though. You wouldn't be used to sharing a bathroom with a boy. We tend to be messy, you know.”

“I'll live, I'm sure,” she laughed. He loved hearing her laugh. It was so pretty, feminine, innocent. He wanted to make her laugh more, but couldn't think of anything to say offhand, and settled for watching her with a smile.

“So, any questions about anything, Harry?”

“Not really,” he shook his head. He pointed across the hall. “Your room?”

Hermione nodded. “If you need anything, just ask.”

She lingered, her hand on the knob of the ajar door. “Harry…” she began timidly

Harry raised his brows, encouraging her to continue, though he knew it was about the kiss they shared at the Dursley's.

“Harry, about at your aunt and uncle's, well, I mean, what happened between us -oh, never mind!” She turned to leave, her face crimson and frustrated.

“Hermione, wait,” Harry said, grabbing her hand. “It's okay, you can talk to me. We should talk about it.”

She nodded and took a deep breath. “About the…kiss, I agreed to it, well, initiated it, to help you with Dudley; I know he's always been a jerk to you. I mean, I didn't feel like I had to and I know you didn't ask me to or anything, but I don't want you to think I'm some sort of tart.”

“'Mione, I could never think anything bad about you,” he said gently taking her other hand in his so he was holding both her hands.

“You weren't…you weren't put off by it?” she questioned hesitantly.

Harry smiled. “Hermione, you know I was anything but put off by it.”

She blushed, but continued with her next question. “So what does all this mean, Harry?”

“I know how I feel,” he began after a moment, “but I don't want to assume how you feel and I'm afraid of what might happen if something happens.”

Seeming to ignore the second half of his statement, she asked what Harry knew she would. “And how do you feel, Harry?”

Harry stared into her eyes, her beautiful brown eyes there were begging for the truth. He could never lie to her, and her never would. He respected her too much for that. “'Mione, I'm in-”

The door swung completely open, causing Harry to jump back in fright. “Hey, Harry,” Robert called. “How 'bout you change your clothes and help me fix the toilet? I could use someone who actually knows what tool is which to hand them to me,” he added with a pointed look at his daughter.

“Honestly, Daddy, I have better things to do than study the difference between an open-boxed screwdriver and a Philips or flathead wrench.”

“Philips or flathead screwdriver and open or box-ended wrench,” Harry and Robert corrected in unison.

Chuckling, Harry asked, “You mean there's something Hermione doesn't know?”

“Shush, you,” she said pushing him while smiling.

“So you wanna help Harry?” Robert asked. “You don't have to, but I'd like it if you did. We can have some man-to-man time. I've been around estrogen for too long.”

Harry laughed again. “Sure thing, sir, it'll be a way to earn my keep. I'll change and be right down.”

“Eh, don't worry about that, son. Hermione, why don't you go help your mum make a late lunch for us?” Robert suggested.

“Alright, Dad,” she sighed, leaving the room. Harry could tell she was just as disappointed as he was that her father had interrupted them at that moment.

Harry changed into some of Dudley's hand-me-downs, after shrinking them to fit better, and headed for the downstairs bathroom.

“Thanks for helping me out, Harry. I can't tell you how glad I am to have some more testosterone in the house. I'm telling you, I've been surrounded by estrogen for so long, I think I might start suffering for menopause with my wife.”

“No problem, Robert,” Harry chuckled. “It's the least I can do with you taking me in for the rest of the summer.”

Robert lay down on the floor beside the wall to check the piping behind the toilet. “You're going to keep thanking us all summer, aren't you?” he smiled.

“You have no idea how grateful I am, sir.”

“I think you're right there, from what Hermione's told us. And I've a feeling she left the bigger stuff out. Flush the toilet, will you, Harry?”

Harry did as he was told, then heard the sound of spraying water, followed by “Oh, shite,” and sputtering from the dentist.

“Yes, that needs to be replaced,” he said, wiping his face, while Harry was trying his best not to laugh. Robert removed the lid and peered into the toilet basin. “Hmm…yeah, just the piping needs to be changed. Up for a trip to the DIY store after lunch?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Harry agreed.

“Good,” Robert said as Helen called them to lunch. “Harry and I are going to the DIY store after we eat,” he told his wife as they sat down.

“Going for some male bonding time?” Helen teased.

“Hey, there's finally a balance in the hormones, I'm going to enjoy it while it lasts.”

Helen patted his cheek. “You do that, hun. Just remember,” she added leaning closer, “there'll be a balance when they leave for school, too.” She winked before taking her own seat.

The exchange was not lost to Harry, and he glanced at Hermione to see how she was reacting. She hardly appeared to have noticed and seemed absorbed in thought. Harry cocked his head, looking at her, wondering what was on her mind. His eyes were drawn to her mouth, where her bottom lip was pulled between her teeth, being nibbled lightly as she thought.

He stared, imagining what it would feel like to have her nibble on parts of his body. His pants felt tighter at the idea.

“So, how's it you're Mister Fix-It, Harry?” Helen asked, drawing both him and Hermione back to their lunch.

“The Dursleys,” he answered simply. “Vernon was always too lazy to do anything himself and too cheap to call a repair man until it became vital, Dudley couldn't fix anything to save his life, and Petunia was clueless. If something broke, that left me. Not that they gave me any choice. It was more like `fix this, boy, or you won't eat for a week',” he imitated his uncle's gruff voice. “Who knew it'd come in handy some day.”

The talked turned to Hogwarts and school supplies to avoid discussing Harry's relatives.

“So, it's finally official? Hermione Jane Granger, Gryffindor Prefect, Hogwarts Head Girl going on the résumé?” Harry commented with a grin at the end of the meal.

Hermione blushed and rolled her eyes, smiling all the same. “Yes, they sent me my badge with my letter the other day. I wonder who Head Boy is,” she thought aloud.

“I think I can tell you,” Harry said. Reaching in his pocket, his hand emerged a closed fist. He turned it so his palm would face up and opened, revealing a badge with gold HB set against a scarlet shield and gold lion intertwining through the lettering.

“Oh, Harry!” Hermione screamed, hugging him. “I'm so proud of you!”

“Congratulations, Harry,” smiled Helen.

“Yes, congratulations, son,” Robert said, offering his hand to Harry when Hermione released him. “This calls for a celebration. For dinner, we're going to that fancy Italian place in town. On us, Harry.”

“Oh, sir, you really don't have to. It's not necessary at all. Really, there's no need,” Harry insisted.

“Nonsense, Harry. It takes a lot of hard work to earn that. We were planning on going out for Hermione anyway. This just gives us more of a reason.”

“Alright…” Harry conceded. “But only if you let me buy lunch at the Leaky Cauldron tomorrow.”

“Deal,” he agreed, shaking hands once more, “Ready to go?”

“Yep, just let me grab, never mind, nothing I need to get.”

“Aright, then, I have my keys, wallet, list of what we need-”

“Cell phone,” Helen called clearing the table.

“And that blasted mobile I don't know how to use. So we're set. Be back in an hour, hun,” he told his wife, giving her a quick kiss.

“Okay, sweetie, try not to buy more than you need to,” Helen said, returning his kiss.

While Robert retorted that she was the one who bought more than necessary most of the time, Harry followed Hermione, who still had the look of deep thought on her face, out of the kitchen.

“Well,” Harry began, “I guess I'll see you later, Hermione.”

“Of course, Harry,” she said matter-of-factly, but something seemed amiss to Harry. “You're staying here with me, after all.”

“Yeah, well.” He glanced toward the kitchen and still hearing conversation between her parents, looked back at Hermione. “Maybe we could…” his voice trailed off, his courage faltering as he tried to get the words out.

“Yes, Harry?” she prompted, a hopeful expression on her face that confused him.

“Maybe we could finish our-”

“Ready, Harry?” Hermione's father interrupted again.

Solemnly, Harry nodded, his gaze locked on Hermione's eyes and the disappointment hidden in their cinnamon depths as Robert steered him gently toward the door.

“So, Harry,” he began as they buckled up, “Helen and I were talking, and the Dursleys never bought you any new clothes, did they?”

Harry snorted. “The Dursleys never got my anything that could be considered remotely new.”

Robert made an odd, short hum before putting the car in reverse. After a short drive, they pulled in front of a large department store.

“This doesn't look like a DIY store,” Harry commented, eyeing Robert warily.

“You're right, we're going shopping.”

“Huh?” Two guys going shopping? That doesn't seem normal, he thought.

*~*~*

Dun Dun DUN!

That was “the plot thickens” music, if you didn't catch it

Many thanks to Libby, my beta <3

I have a joke I want to share: When is a door not a door? When it's ajar! Lol, makes me chuckle

I learned from a Brit they “tend to refer” hardware stores as DIY stores. Hardware store is such an American Phrase

Chapter Three in… whenever I get to it. Should be soon

Of Bribery and Men - Coming soon to a computer screen near you

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3. Of Bribery and Men

Chapter 3

Of Bribery and Men

Thank you for all the reviews and birthday wishes =)

This chapter is a bit of a birthday present to my friend Amanda (August 5th) and bestest little buddy/beta, who's been through thick and thin, high and low with me, Libby (August 6th). We're all awesome Leos born within days of each other. =)

*~*~*

“Harry, there's something I've been wanting to discuss with you,” Robert said suddenly while they were walking through the racks to shirts in the store.

“What's that, sir?” Harry asked holding out a red, plaid-print shirt, his face slightly scrunched as he decided if he liked it.

“It's about my daughter, and how you feel about her.”

Harry let go of the shirt in surprise; that was the last thing he expected to hear. He caught it quickly before it hit the floor. Seeker skills come in handy in the muggle world. “What exactly would you like to know, sir?”

“First, stop with the `sir' all the time, and second, I'm not blind, Harry. I see the way you look at Hermione.”

“And how's that, si-Robert?” he questioned, hoping his feigned ignorance would end the conversation.

“Like you'd go to hell and back, taking on every monstrous obscenity in between for her,” Robert said obviously, “like you'd die to keep her happy. Very much the way I look at Helen.”

Harry sighed. “You caught me, sir. I'm completely, utterly, and desperately in love with your daughter. I suppose you'll want to kick me out now.”

Robert chuckled. “Lord, no. Helen would have my head, if Hermione didn't take it first. Now, I ask you, what are you going to do about it, son?”

After a pause where Harry flicked idly through a row of t-shirts, Harry began, “I was going to tell her, but you interrupted accidentally and asked me if I wanted to help fix the bathroom. Now, I'm not sure I should tell her. She deserves to know,” he continued before Robert could say anything, “she has every right to know, but I don't want to make her a bigger target for any lingering Voldemort supporters out there than she already unfortunately is.”

“You do have quite a conundrum, Harry,” the older man sympathized.

Harry moved further into the clothing section. “What should I do?”

“I can't tell you what to do, son.”

He nodded. “What would you do in my place?” he questioned next.

Robert sighed. “I honestly can't imagine being in your place. I wouldn't lie to her about how you feel. And know this, Harry, if you hurt my little girl in any way, shape or form, I'll hunt you down and make you regret being born a male.”

“If I hurt Hermione, I'll hand myself over to you,” he told Robert seriously. “Do you...know how she feels about me?” Harry asked hesitantly.

After a pause, Robert said, “I have my ideas. Helen knows, I'm sure, but Hermione must have told her not to say anything to me.” He gave a small scowl at that. “As if her own father can't be trusted.”

Harry turned to a rack of clothing on the wall and sighed heavily, still with his quandary, grabbing at some random shirt. “Why does being me have to be so complicated?”

“Why does shopping have to be so bloody complicated?” Robert said, trying to lighten Harry's mood. “Oh, sod this; we're just getting the essentials. Helen and Hermione can take you tomorrow in London.”

“Sounds like…it'll be an interesting experience,” Harry commented, cringing at the thought of practically being the two women's dress up doll.

“I'm sure you'll have fun,” the dentist said, smiling evilly at the young man beside him. “So, now you need dressy clothes for tonight, socks, underwear and a few undershirts and we're done here. Thank God. Okay Harry, grab whatever you think fits and looks decent. I've never spent this much time in a store and it's starting to get to me.”

*~*~*

Harry walked from the hall shower to his room at the Granger's house with only a towel about his waist; he had gotten used to not taking clothes to the shower with him when using his private bathroom. Robert had made him get his hair trimmed, too, after stopping at the DIY store. “You can't look like a five year-old at a nice restaurant,” he'd said. They had successfully fixed the downstairs toilet when they returned home and were cleaning up for dinner. He'd spent his shower continuing his personal battle concerning his feelings for Hermione. Maybe he would just flip a coin…

He was almost to his door when the object of his affection left her room and bumped into him.

“Oh, I'm sorry, Harry,” Hermione said, her eyes traveling down his naked torso. “I was- I was…” she shook her head. “I was going to my mum's room.”

“No worries, 'Mione,” Harry told her, focusing very hard on not letting his eyes wander to her tank top and shorts, her hair and make-up already done, or letting his imagination follow. He didn't want a reaction to occur when he was so scantily clad. “I'm just glad I had a hold of the towel,” he laughed.

Hermione gave him a small smile, her eyes still roaming his body.

“You look very pretty, 'Mione,” he said, standing in his doorway. “And I'm sure you'll only look more so when you're dressed.”

“Thank you, Harry. I'm anxious to see how you'll look tonight,” she commented.

He grinned at her. “I think you'll be pleasantly surprised.”

She gave him that beautiful smile of hers that made his heart flutter, the one he saw her only direct at him. “Just as long as it's pleasant, Potter.”

“I'll be nothing compared to you, I'm sure. You're bound to stun me into shock with your beauty. And have members of both genders checking you out,” he added as a joke.

“Thanks, Harry,” she said dryly, “now I have to try to look pretty tonight, if only to live up to your expectations. Just for that, you better knock my socks off, mister.” She emphasized her point by poking his chest. What Harry was sure was meant to be a quick jab turned into Hermione almost caressing his pectoral with her index finger. The feel of her fingertip on his bare skin sent chills and goose bumps over his body.

“You never have to try to look pretty, Hermione,” Harry told her, softly, seriously as her hand slowly dropped from his chest. He saw an unfamiliar look in her eye and decided to continue, changing the mood the conversation had taken. “And it sounds like you've presented me with a challenge, Miss Granger. Though I'm sure I'll fail miserably, I intend to give it my all. Somehow, I'll surpass your expectations,” he vowed, giving a mock salute before stepping fully into his room and shutting the door. But not before he heard Hermione quietly say, “You already have, Harry.”

Those four words and the sincerity behind them sent Harry into a new level of depth of thoughts on the situation with his love for Hermione.

*~*~*

He stood at the bottom of the stairs anxiously awaiting her descent. He wanted to see her first, alone, without her parents in the room.

His mind wandered to the how similar this was to muggle prom, minus the corsage and the fact that Hermione wouldn't be his date.

“Harry,” her angelic voice broke his thoughts.

His head snapped up and he stared in awe at the beauty on the stairs before him. The fitted black dress she wore accentuated her slim figure and hidden curves, the halter top design and mid-thigh length showed off long, slender legs and her lovely, tone back he ached to caress. The heels she wore seemed to emphasize the shape of her legs and they looked even more luscious. Her hair styled on top of her head had tendrils of curls hanging loose, framing her face. He longed for the privilege to toy with them between her fingers, to have her other curls slid through his fingers as he teased her to screaming his name in ecstasy.

Don't think about that now.

“Harry, are you alright?” Hermione asked.

Harry grinned. “Yes, 'Mione, you just rendered me speechless with how gorgeous you look. You look absolutely amazing,” he told her honestly.

“Thank you, Harry. You clean up nice, as well,” she complimented taking in his attire. Harry felt himself blush under her gaze and praise. “Green and black always looked good on you.”

“Your dad and I decided to play it safe. Green dress shirt, black dress pants, I'm bound to look decent and formal enough. Shirt's a bit snug, though.”

“You look better than decent, Harry. Much better. The tight shirt…” her voice trailed off and she drew a shaky breath, “looks very good on you.”

“Did I succeed in `knocking your socks off'?” he teased.

“Yes, you did,” she smiled and his heart swelled. Harry was sure he heard her mutter, “You have no idea how much,” but in the commotion of the Grangers entering the room, he couldn't be certain.

“You know, Harry,” Robert began, “for just grabbing whatever you thought would fit, you did a good job.”

“Thanks, Robert,” Harry laughed. “We could've grabbed a size larger in the shirt, though.”

“Oh, no,” interjected Helen, “you look marvelous, and I'm sure Hermione doesn't mind the smaller shirt.”

“Mother,” Hermione groaned.

Confused, Harry said, “Thank you, Helen, you look spectacular, too.” He leaned close and whispered so only she could hear, “Sorry, ma'am, but Hermione gets my vote for most beautiful tonight. Those curls…” he grinned.

Helen laughed with him. “As well she should. You look beautiful, honey,” she directed at Hermione then telling Harry, “That's alright, dear, I get Robert's vote and that's the one that counts for me.”

“What did I vote for?” Robert questioned.

Helen and Harry shared a smile and a wink before shaking their heads. “Let's get going,” Helen advised. “Our reservations are in half an hour.”

They arrived at the restaurant to a very intimate setting. Small tables were scattered about the spacious room, with a small Italian band playing music softly in one corner. They were shown to their table immediately and Harry pulled out Hermione's chair while Robert did the same for Helen. A waiter came and took their drink orders and Harry felt himself grow annoyed as the waiter stared openly at Hermione. It was one thing to joke about others checking her out, another for it to be done right in front of him.

Harry became to mentally plot ways to swipe the ogling waiters tip. He'd give it to charity.

Dinner with the Grangers was much more enjoyable than with the Dursleys. Harry could count the number of times on one hand with fingers left over the Dursleys had taken him out to eat with them. Fewer times than that he'd ever had a pleasant meal with his relatives.

The four of them laughed and teased and talked about school and life. Childhood stories of Hermione came up during which she blushed and Harry learned more of his best friend.

Every time the waiter came to their table (which was far too often in Harry's opinion), the schmuck would fawn over Hermione. It was disgusting how blatant he was; it made Harry clench his fists under the table. He nearly glowered when he saw Robert and Helen hiding smirks behind their hands and how Hermione seemed to be enjoying the out-of-work actor's attentions.

I wonder if I can tie his shoelaces together with wandless magic, Harry mused to himself, allowing a small smile at the mental image of the waiter falling.

“Excuse me a moment,” Harry said, a much better idea coming to him. He headed off to the restrooms, then darted off to the host station when none of the Grangers were looking. “Excuse me, sir, may I speak with the manager?” he asked the host.

The manager arrived within a minute, a respectable looking man in a made-to-order suit with a slight Italian accent. Harry felt jealous of his perfectly combed hair. “Can I help you, sir?”

“Yes, I'm at that table,” Harry indicated inconspicuously, “and the waiter is visiting frequently, making inappropriate comments and practically leering at my girlfriend and her mother.” Slight exaggeration wouldn't hurt anything.

Harry needn't say more. The manager waved a hand saying that was enough of an explanation. “I'll have him put on break immediately and moved to another section when he returns. You'll have another waiter in less than a moment.”

“Thank you very much, sir. I'm sure you'll understand I would feel much more comfortable with a female waitress, however.”

“Of course, sir, that can be arranged without trouble. I apologize for this inconvenience. I'll have ten percent removed from your tab.”

“That's not necessary, but appreciated, sir. Thank you for your help, sir.” Harry shook the man's hand, slipping him a ten pound note at the same time. He had learned that greasing the wheels always helped matters along. One thing Vernon had taught him that was useful.

A moment after Harry returned to the table, a female waitress stopped by to refill their drinks, check that their food was as expected and explain their previous water was now on his lunch break and she would be taking over for the night. Harry swore Robert winked at him.

The remainder of meal was much better for Harry, without worrying or getting upset about some jerk of a waiter hitting on Hermione. With most of his attention on Hermione, he did notice her giving the waitress some mean looks. Harry felt it was a good thing Hermione couldn't perform wandless magic.

“Oh, Hermione, stop glaring at the poor girl,” Helen said after the waitress had brought their desserts. “She's acting nowhere near as bad as the other waiter and I doubt Harry has even noticed her eyeing him,” she added.

“What?” Harry asked, as Hermione blushed and scowled at her mother. “The waitress has been `eyeing' me?” he glanced at Hermione and smiled slightly as comprehension dawned on him. “Are you jealous, Hermione?” He was rather flattered.

“Says the boy who bribed the manager into switching waiters,” she retorted.

“I didn't bribe him,” Harry defended, shocked that she knew. “The money was to make it happen faster. And I got ten percent off the check,” he added, elbowing Robert and grinning.

“That's my boy,” Robert laughed, clapping him on the shoulder as the women rolled their eyes.

Harry's heart seemed to stop. That simple phrase affected him so deeply it had him stunned.

Hermione watched Harry as he stared at his plate, the words her father had spoken affecting him. She knew what he was feeling and why he was feeling them, even though she could never relate.

“Oh, honey, you've touched him,” she heard her mother whisper to her father.

Hermione knew her father was doing this on purpose, trying to give Harry that fatherly pride he had never experience growing up with the Dursleys. She hoped nothing would embarrass Harry, though.

Lifting his drink a little, her father said, “To the new Head Boy and Head Girl of Hogwarts.”

Harry lifted his head and joined in the toast, clinking his glass with theirs. “Thank you, sir,” he said sincerely and Hermione saw, as her parents probably did, too, that Harry meant it for more than the toast.

Robert smiled and gave a slight nod, accepting for all implications.

*~*~*

Aww… I feel a tear. And I wrote it.

Maybe I'm PMSing and that's why.

ANYWAY, tell me what you thought, what you think, what you feel, what you want, who you want, where you are, anything and everything, and I'll give you more. Bwahaha

Yes, I am a dork

Thanks to Duncan007 for filling in as my beta, as mine was celebrating her birthday, the naughty (lucky) little girl ;)

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4. Bloody Nosey Parents

Chapter 4

Bloody Nosey Parents

Thank you for all the reviews and support and the birthday wishes to my friends. Thank you, and now, Chapter Four…

*~*~*

“So,” Harry began. They were following Hermione's parents out to the car after dinner. Harry slipped his arm around her shoulders as they walked. “You were jealous, eh?”

She glanced up at him. He had a silly little smirk on his face. It annoyed her that her mother had pointed out her glares at the waitress for Harry to realize. She couldn't have been that obvious. “Again, says the boy who bribed the manager.”

“Yeah, but I'm a guy; it's expected of me.” He grinned down at her. “You, Hermione Jane, were jealous.”

“Don't flatter yourself, Harry.”

“So you won't mind if I go back and ask her out?”

Hermione stopped walking and stared at Harry. Her heart was beating a mile a minute in her stomach. He wouldn't, would he? I thought he had feelings for me… “If you really want to, fine,” she told him, resuming her stride, her voice crisp and her back unusually erect.

“Naw,” Harry said. “Be too hard to find her.”

He was bluffing! The male, she thought. Boys are so bloody complicated. And her mother assured her they didn't get any less so. “It's a matter of degree really, honey,” she had said.

Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulders again. “Wanna take a little walk when we get to your house?” he asked in a voice that screamed forced casualness.

“You sure you don't want to walk with Sarah?” she asked, surprised by the dripping sarcasm.

“Who?” Harry looked completely baffled. Hermione's heart rose; he didn't even know the waitress's name. Hermione could have floated to the car.

“Never mind,” she told him and he shrugged. “I'd rather sit in the backyard. It's really quiet and pretty, especially on summer nights when the temperature is perfect.”

That was what brought her and Harry to her patio swing late that night. Hermione had spent the entire trip home wondering what Harry wanted. She knew what she wanted. She wanted him, Harry, all to herself openly and brazenly. She wanted the freedom to hold and hug him and touch him and kiss him and yes, to be jealous and possessive over him; she was tired of waiting for some blasted reason to. Hermione wanted Harry to be hers and she wanted to be his.

The question tugging and her heart and mind was: “Are we on the same page?”

Harry was fidgeting, like he always did when he was nervous. Hermione was trying very hard to maintain her composure, but all she really wanted to do was grab Harry's face and smother it with deep passionate kisses.

She gave a small excited shiver at the thought of kissing him again, his gentle lips pressed to hers, his tongue caressing hers, his strong hands on her back, the way he felt against her when her kiss began to arouse him…

“Are you cold?” Harry asked.

“What?” she said. “Oh, no, I was just…” thinking of kissing your gorgeous body. I can't say that. Can I?

He smiled knowingly, and Hermione did her best not to look horrified that she had been found out. But Harry slid closer to her on the bench and stretched his arm across her shoulders, pulling her closer to him. “You can't fool me,” he told her with a smile. “You're always cold.”

She laughed a little and leaned her head on his shoulder. This is how they act together. None of this nervous fidgeting crap. What is going on with me? she thought. This is Harry; I should be able to tell him how I feel and have him understand. Especially when I am near positive he feels the same.

Hermione was only at “Very Strong Suspicion” before, but with the way Harry had been acting today she was at “Very Sure”. Then that wink from her father, the wonderful, confusing, joking, understanding man he was, when they left the house for dinner, and at dinner when Harry paid off the manager and when they headed out to the backyard, she thought she knew what he meant. Now she was at “Nearly Positive” on Harry's Feelings.

It should be a book. Then everything would be explained and I would know what the hell was going on in his head.

I'd have to be the one to write the bloody thing, though. Who else knows him better than me?

A satisfied smile touched her lips at that thought.

The sliding glass door opened and Hermione's parents stuck their heads out. Both of them. The blasted nosey people. It's a pity they didn't have other children whose lives they could spy on and meddle in. But she loved them and they loved her. She must remember that.

It succeeded in making Harry pull away from her slightly, to which she gave a small annoyed glowered at him and her parents.

“Just wanted to remind you two not to stay up late because we're leaving for London at nine tomorrow,” her father said. “And it's been a long day already. I'm surprised you're both still up,” he yawned.

“You'll especially want to have plenty of rest, Harry, for trying on all the clothes,” her mother added with a smile.

“Yes, ma'am,” Harry replied, a nervous tremor in his voice. Oh, tomorrow was going to be fun.

“Goodnight, sweethearts,” her mother told them.

“'Night, kids,” her father echoed with a wink before closing the door.

That man is getting wink-happy. And it is getting late, blast it all.

Hermione decided to take initiative. “Why did you want to come out here, Harry?” she asked innocently.

“I wanted to go for a walk, you wanted to sit out here,” he retorted with a smile.

“You wouldn't be walking in heels, though,” she told him, smiling back. As soon as they walked in the front door, Hermione had kicked off her heels and sighed with relief. They were very expensive and made her legs look great, made her arse look terrific, made her back look amazing, made her boobs look fantastic, so of course, they were the most uncomfortable pair of shoes she owned.

Harry was quiet in a way that told Hermione he was thinking. How to phrase his words, she decided. But what words will he use was the question.

“I want to finish our conversation from earlier,” he said, “when you showed me my bedroom.”

She nodded. Harry turned to face her, taking both her hands in his. “I never had any friends growing up,” he began after a moment, “because of Dudley. But then I went to Hogwarts, I met Ron and finally had my first friend.”

Oh no, he's not gay, is he? was Hermione's first thought, irrational as it was.

“And then this little Know-It-All comes into our compartment,” he continued with a smile, “and somehow inserts herself into our lives, and became my second friend, one of my best friends, one of the best friends a person could ever ask for.”

Hermione smiled at Harry, her throat getting tight at the sincerity and affection in his voice. I will not cry at this, I will not cry, I will not be a total sap.

“Then puberty hit and the hormones made me start noticing girls, like Cho.” Hermione pursed her lips slightly in annoyance. This speech of Harry's had been going so well. “But each girl I took interest in, didn't see me for me, wasn't there for me, wasn't a friend to me. They all just wanted the Boy-Who-Lived.”

Harry scowled at that and Hermione didn't blame him; she had been furious about what those hussies had done to her Harry. She didn't think he had ever found out (and she wasn't about to tell him) that after each tramp had broken his heart they had mysteriously contracted a horrible case of acne and a severe case of hemorrhoids. For some reason Madam Pomfrey had a difficult time curing them, as well.

“Then I realized,” Harry continued, “that you were a girl, Hermione.”

She scowled at him. “And I wasn't before?” she asked almost harshly.

“No, no, that came out wrong.” Harry looked distressed. Poor boy, Hermione thought, and covered his hand with one of hers to reassure him. He calmed instantly. “What I meant was I wanted a girl like you. One who treated me like Harry, who saw me as Harry, who yelled at me when I needed it, who kept me focused and on track of what I needed to do, and most of all, was always there for me when I needed her.” Harry's voice was so soft and tender at the last words, Hermione felt herself choke up again and her heart begin to pound in her chest.

“Throughout last year, 'Mione, I realized I didn't have to look very far to find that girl.” Hermione's heart felt like it was going to beat its way out of her chest. “I didn't have to, because she had already found me.”

Harry lifted one hand, tucked a stand of curls behind her ear and cupped her cheek. “I'm in love with you, Hermione Granger.” His voice was hoarse with emotion and Hermione thought she would burst into tears at his declaration. He touched his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. “I love you more than anyone could ever imagine.”

“Oh, Harry…” she said softly. Hermione couldn't wait any longer, she had to touch him more, touch him again. She closed the few inches of space between them and pressed her lips to Harry's, wrapping her arms around his neck. Just like this morning, his lips were soft and caressed hers perfectly. His tongue slipped into her mouth and massaged her and it felt incredible. Harry wrapped his arms around her waist and swiveled and then she was sitting in his lap, her legs draped on one side of him, as they kissed like the inexperienced hormone-driven teenagers they were.

Harry had effortlessly picked her up, his hands gentle but firm on her body as he moved her. Strong Harry is hot, Hermione decided with a smile. After moments (hours, days, weeks, who knew really?) of fevered teenage lip smacking, Harry gave Hermione a chaste kiss and leaned his forehead against hers. They were both panting slightly.

“I love you, too, Harry,” Hermione said. She kissed his lips, his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, and hugged him close to her.

“Last year, you were the one to stand beside me when I faced Voldermort,” Harry said into her chest. “You were the one who gave me the strength to fight him, to do what I had to.”

Hermione stroked his hair, tears sliding silently down her face. She had no idea she meant that much to Harry, to her Harry.

“I had to win, if only to keep you safe,” he murmured.

“Oh, Harry…” Hermione said before lifting his face and kissing him madly once again. He returned the kiss with as much fervor, his hands roaming her back.

He pulled away suddenly. “You're crying,” he said immediately concerned.

Hermione smiled at him. “They're happy tears, Harry. You have made me very happy tonight,” she told him, as tears welled in her eyes once more.

He grinned, but Hermione could see he didn't quite understand. He wouldn't, being male and growing up in that Dursley Hell Hole; he never would have seen a mother cry at a first word or graduations from school or a special mother's day or anything else a woman and mother finds sentimental. It was something she would have to teach him.

“I hope I only give you happy tears.” He kissed her nose, her eyes, and then he pressed his lips to hers in a kiss of gentle, tender passion, full of promise and love that had tears streaming down her cheeks once more.

They parted once more and Hermione rested her head on Harry's shoulder. His arms held her close to him and she hadn't felt this safe since she was a little girl in her father's lap, when the scariest things were the “monsters” under the bed, or a B on a test.

“Hermione,” Harry whispered after a few moments, maybe longer. She was starting to doze.

“Hmm…”

“We should probably go to bed. Our beds, our own beds, in our separate rooms,” he babbled and Hermione smiled. It was adorable.

“I'm comfortable,” she told him, only half teasing.

“Of course you are, but my arm is starting to fall asleep. And I'd rather your dad not be tempted to kill me on my second day here.”

“Oh, alright,” she said standing up. “You wouldn't kiss all that well if you were dead.”

Harry stood and wrapped his arms around her from behind. “Glad to see you have your priorities in order.” He nuzzled her neck and Hermione could feel the smile on his face.

“You would be warm either,” she continued, “and you couldn't hold me like this.” She leaned back against him as walked back into the house. Hermione heard a slight scuffling in the kitchen as she opened the patio door. She sighed and shook her head. Her parents… But she loved them.

They walked up the stairs and stopped at Hermione's bedroom door. “Goodnight,” Harry said softly and kissing her just as softly. “I'll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight,” she smiled and kissed him again. And again. His lips were so soft.

“There's one thing,” Harry began in between kisses, “I wanted to ask you.”

“Mm, what's that?” She pressed her lips to his.

They savored the kiss together for a moment. When they pulled away, Harry whispered softly, tenderly, “Will you be my girlfriend?”

Hermione beamed and her heart leaped in her chest. “As if you had to ask,” she told him before kissing him again.

“That's a yes?” Harry asked with a small smile.

“Of course it's a yes, Harry.”

It was several smooching minutes later before she was actually in her room and Harry in his. Hermione couldn't stop grinning. This, by far and so far, had been the best night of her life. Better than finding out she was a witch, better than having Harry and Ron as friends and all the escapades that entailed, better than realizing she was in love with Harry Potter. Very few things could top tonight for her, and all she had in mind involved Harry.

Hermione danced and hummed and sang around her room as she prepared for bed, changing her clothes, removing make up, brushing her hair. Everything was done on autopilot; she was floating on Cloud 9 and loving every minute of it.

Humming, she twirled onto her bed and pulled out her journal. Not one of those frilly, prissy, girly diaries that made her ashamed to be female. A lovely leather bound journal that she recorded everything about her life in. Everything. Tonight's entry would center entirely on the wonderful Harry James Potter and how they professed their love to one another and made out like the sex-starved teens that they were.

It was a good thing they'd had The Talk, Hermione decided. She entirely doubted she could have lasted Harry staying in her house the rest of summer without pouncing on him. Literally and figuratively.

Hermione fell asleep that night with a smile on her face, her dreams full of the dark haired wizard with brilliant green eyes, the words he spoke to her tonight and his lips on hers.

This was going to be the best summer of her life.

The best summer of your life so far.

*~*~*

I was watching the Simpson's Movie (so funny and so wrong at the same time) and it inspired the “The best summer of your life so far” line, since Homer says something like that like three times in the movie.

I also like how the Simpson's watch the end credits, 'cause I always do. For the names, not the chance of an end clip. I like finding unique names like mine, and pulling a Mystery Science Theater 3000 =)

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5. Life-Size Harry Dress-Up Doll

Chapter 5

Life-Size Harry Dress-Up Doll

Complete with Speedo and over-active hormones

Thank you again for all the reviews.

Thank you Libby for being my beta; without you, my chapters would be riddled with stupid mistakes, like “Voldermort”, lol, and Lord knows what else.

Decided to post a little early this week, because there seems to be a lull on Portkey, but maybe it's just me. And now, the shopping day, bwahaha! Long chapter, over 8 pages of story, so enjoy =)

*~*~*

When Hermione woke the next morning, she could have floated around the house, no matter how bloody early it was. She glided about getting ready for the day, which included a brief five minute (ten, twenty?) “good morning” kiss with Harry against the bathroom counter when he was leaving for the first time and she was entering for the second. Thankfully they had both brushed their teeth already.

Hermione decided she loved Harry after a shower and especially kissing him after a shower. He smelled so nice and clean and Harry. Pity he'd taken clothes with him that time.

The trip to London was normal, for Harry and Hermione. Not as extreme as Dark Wizards leaping out determined to end their lives prematurely, but not dull.

Her parents surprised them when they were heading down the road, her father in particular. “Going steady now, kids?” He grinned that cheeky grin her mother seemed to adore at them through the rear view mirror.

Hermione groaned.

Harry blushed and stammered.

Her mother cooed.

Hermione groaned again.

“Oh, it's sweet, Hermione,” her mother said. “Harry was so sweet last night.”

Hermione wanted to - and tried to - sink into the seats. She could feel Harry fidgeting next her.

“You know, dear,” Hermione's father began, “we probably don't have to treat them any differently.” He glanced in the mirror again with a small smile. “And I think we've succeeded in embarrassing both of them.”

“Thoroughly, Dad,” Hermione muttered.

“Alright, sweetie,” Hermione's mother said, but she couldn't resist adding, “I'm so happy for you two, honey.”

Hermione buried her face in Harry's shoulder. “Why can't we have normal lives?”

“'Cause you're a witch and I'm a wizard,” Harry whispered to her as her parents laughed.

“Smart ass.”

The rest of the trip was nice and eventless, thankfully.

When they arrived in London, they headed straight for the muggle department stores, to turn Harry into a dress up doll for a few hours. Harry needed clothes, and he had to try them on to see if they fit; this was a perfectly charitable excursion. Never mind Hermione and her mother were also choosing clothes solely for the enjoyment of Harry trying them on and that they had no intention of actually letting him buy.

Harry had fun with it at first, doing a mock runway model strut in front of the fitting rooms. His energy and enthusiasm waned, however, as the clothes kept coming.

“Please,” Harry nearly begged after two hours when they brought him a light pink sweater vest and white collared shirt to try on, “no more. I'm tired and hungry.” Hermione almost laughed at how scared he looked.

“I'm with Harry,” her father piped up from where he'd all but fallen asleep in a chair. “It's past my lunch time.”

“And we all know how your father gets cranky when he doesn't eat,” her mother whispered to her.

“I heard that,” he grumbled.

“Okay, Harry, no more clothes,” Hermione told him and he instantly looked relieved. “You need a pair of swim trunks, though,” she smiled innocently.

Harry groaned.

“And then we'll go eat,” Hermione's mother promised.

“Okay,” Harry conceded. “Can we make it quick? I'm starved.” He looked so woebegone Hermione couldn't resist kissing his cheek.

“Don't forget to model,” she told him, handing him two pairs of swim trunks, one deep red and blue, one white and light blue, and smacking his bottom playfully as he headed for the changing room. He scowled slightly over his shoulder at her as she grinned.

“Poor bloke,” her father muttered.

Ten pairs of trunks, twenty-five winks, nine offered phone numbers (from women who were old enough to quite possibly be his mother), six whistles, two “modeling” offers, one poor harassed Harry and one slightly disgruntled Hermione later, they were at the checkout counter with all Harry's clothes.

“It's not like I'm invisible,” Hermione was grumbling. “Am I?”

“Of course not, sweetie,” her mother replied absentmindedly, making sure none of the clothing was misplaced on the counter.

“I mean, I was standing right there in front of Harry, he was looking at me, and they have the audacity to hit on him in front of me!”

Harry felt bad that Hermione was upset about the swim trunk incident, but there was nothing he could really do other than pat her back, hold her hand and tell her it was okay. She would have to get over it in her own time.

“Some women just don't care if a man is taken,” Helen said, proving she was listening, “or if he's with his wife at the time. Just be glad Harry's as clueless as your father about it,” she told Hermione.

In a way, Harry thought Hermione deserved a bit of what happened for trying to get him to try on those blooming Speedo things. “But your bum will look so nice,” she'd said. He should've tried them all, teach her a lesson. Just imagine how many of those slag twits would have flocked to him then, eh?

But now she was upset and it made him feel sad and he felt bad for what he was thinking.

“Helen, ma'am, you really don't need to buy anything for me,” Harry tried once again. “I can pay for it, it's really not… I appreciate it, but I can.” He had fumbled over his words every time he tried to explain. He didn't want to seem rude, but he didn't want to just let them buy clothes for him. He wasn't a mooch.

“Oh, don't be silly, Harry,” Helen told him handing a card to the cashier. “We know you can, but we want to treat you. Robert's always wanted a son and now that you're staying with us, you're like a surrogate in a way. And we can afford it just fine.”

Harry was horrified; he hadn't wanted to insinuate that they couldn't. He knew from experience with Vernon how little people like that. Cheapskate though he was, Vernon liked people to know he could afford virtually anything, hence Dudley's size and multitude of broken toys. “I didn't mean that, ma'am,” he stammered quickly. “I just don't want to… I don't want you to think I want you to buy me stuff,” he finished lamely.

Helen laughed. “You're such a silly boy, Harry.” She ruffled his hair; it made him feel soothed, like a mother making everything right in his little world. “We know you didn't mean that, but understand,” she took his face in her hands and held it close to hers, “we will treat you whenever we want and there's nothing you can do to stop us.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Harry answered. “Thank you, ma'am.”

“Simple manners like that are all I ask in return, Harry dear.”

Harry nodded. She was very much like her daughter, or Hermione was very much like her mother, with a damn stubborn streak. “Yes, ma'am.”

Helen released his face and Robert clapped his shoulder. “You've just survived your first encounter with Helen's stubborn side, son,” he told Harry overly serious. “The best way to survive the next attack is to just go with it. Makes things much smoother.”

“Oh, just like with Hermione, then,” Harry replied.

“Shush, you,” Hermione told him, slapping his arm a little, “as if you ever listen.” The slap was just an excuse to touch him, though, since she hugged his arm right after. He took her other hand in his and kissed her head. Harry loved being able to touch her now, to kiss her, to hold her, to hug her whenever he wanted simply because he wanted to; it was simply delightful and made his heart soar.

It was so comfortable with her parents, too. They didn't mind small, subtle displays of affection, possibly because they were guilty of it themselves. Helen would look at the two of them with an affectionate, motherly, almost tearful smile, and Robert would give them a small smile and a quick wink. He was getting wink happy.

“Let's take the bags to the car and get some food,” Robert said. “I've been ready to eat for an hour.”

As the four of them headed to the Leaky Cauldron, Harry slowed his steps to fall a few feet behind the Grangers. A thought had just struck him and it terrified him. “Hermione,” he said quietly and seriously, “we're going to the wizarding world.”

She looked at him and her mouth formed a silent “Oh”. His mind was tempted to roam to thoughts of her face with her lips in that expression wrapped around his Willie, but reined it in and focused.

“You know it'll be a million times worse in there than at the department store,” he told her, focusing on Hermione's eyes instead of the delectable way she was nibbling her lower lip.

She nodded. “It would be best if everyone, or anyone, found out we're a couple while we're at Hogwarts, so they can't harass us or anything.”

“Ooh,” Harry said, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her close as they walked, “so this will be our little secret. Sounds kinky.” He nuzzled just behind her ear, pressing his lips gently to her neck.

“Rein it in there, cowboy,” Hermione told him with a smile.

“I have to go hours and hours without touching or holding you, I need to get as much as I can now,” he told in a logical tone.

“You've gone six years without touching or holding me,” she countered, “I think you last the rest of the day.”

“I wasn't in love with you for five of those years. Or didn't realize it at least.”

“And last year?” she inquired, giving a small moan as continued to kiss her neck and hold her close.

“I pined and pined for you day after day after day,” he told her. That was very, if not completely, true, though Hermione would probably think he was teasing.

When she threw her head back and laughed, he knew he was right. But her neck was exposed to him and he couldn't resist trailing his lips up and down her slim neck. Hermione was such a beautiful woman Harry didn't know what she saw in him, but he was so thankful.

Hermione turned in his arms. “There's the Leaky Cauldron,” she whispered.

Harry sighed. “Back to Harry and Hermione, Best Friends for the afternoon,” he said softly. “But tonight,” he added with exaggerated flair, “we can resume being Harry and Hermione, Teens in Love.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and Hermione laughed.

“One last kiss?” she asked with a playful smile.

“Anything for you,” he told her, bending his head to capture her lips with his.

It was a few moments (Harry always lost track of time when he was with Hermione) before they remembered where they were and where they were going and pulled apart. The held each other a moment more before reluctantly stepping a few feet from one another.

“Best friends,” Hermione said, and Harry could see her setting her resolve.

“Always,” Harry replied, steeling himself also. This would be a long afternoon. After touching and holding and caressing and kissing and loving Hermione, having her love him in return, to go back just friend would be killer. “I love you,” he told her, just to remind her, so she wouldn't forget, so she wouldn't think he didn't, because he did. Now he was rambling to himself.

Her smile, her beautiful smile that lit her face and eyes, told him all the love she felt for him.

Together, but now separate for the time, they headed to the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron. Hermione's parents were waiting near the door for them and Robert cocked an eyebrow at the two of them when they met them. Harry didn't know if the eyebrow was because he and Hermione weren't holding hands or their delay in catching up, but Hermione decided to answer as if the former had been asked.

“Harry and I are just best friends until we leave the wizarding world,” she said as soon as they stopped.

“Ah,” her parents said together. “Smart girl,” Helen told her.

“Smart Harry,” Hermione replied, causing him to blush slightly.

“Looks like you did earn that Head Boy badge,” Robert chuckled, cuffing Harry's shoulder.

“Thank you, sir,” Harry said grinning. “Now let's eat; I'm starved.”

Harry led the way into the bar followed by Hermione and her parent and hurried to find Tom the barkeeper while they waited.

“Tom,” he said quietly leaning over the bar to shake the man's hand, “can you give me, Hermione and her parents a private room for lunch, please?” He released the barman's hand, leaving a gold coin behind. “And keep it quiet that we're here, too?” he asked with a grin.

“Of course,” Tom answered with a toothless grin and ushered him toward the back of the restaurant. Harry motioned for the Grangers to follow him, hoping he didn't draw any attention to himself.

“Getting your school supplies?” Tom asked in his gruff voice as they seated them.

“Yes, sir, Tom,” Harry answered. “Hermione and her parents were kind enough to bring me since the Weasleys are in Egypt and my aunt and uncle aren't so kind.”

“Such friends are a rare gem,” Tom commented taking their orders.

“Yes,” said Harry quietly sharing a special smile with Hermione, “they are.”

The four of them ate sandwiches while talking and teased Harry about trying on the clothes and teased Hermione about getting jealous and what their classes might be like. Talk of school and classed turned to the gossip of Hogwarts, which Harry more or less tuned out, leaving Hermione and her mother to it. That was the thing with women; they liked to talk about people and what so-and-so is up to and who's cheating on who and yadda yadda yadda. Men didn't gossip. Women couldn't resist it. Not even logical, rational, intelligent Hermione.

But he still loved her, of course.

So while Hermione chitchatted about who was with whom to her mom, Harry contented himself with watching her while he finished the last of his Butterbeer. It amazed him how beautiful a girl Hermione was. It was such a simple, natural beauty, none of that high maintenance crap like Lavender or Parvati. Hermione was the kind of girl who was gorgeous no matter how she looked, whether she was dressed elegantly for a ball or in her pajamas for bed or doing chores around the house.

Harry wanted to help Hermione with chores. Or at least watch. Help and watch, maybe. Especially watch her bending to pick things up, to put clothes in the dryer and stretching to put things on shelves or get cleaning supplies. Hermione bending over is a beautiful sight, her nice round bum stretching and simply inviting him. He could fit right behind her just perfectly.

These were very not Best-Friend-Hermione related thoughts and staring at Hermione with a boner hidden under the table was not very Best-Friend-Harry, but he didn't care; who would see them in here besides her parents and who would see his pants under the table? Exactly.

“Harry,” Hermione was saying. She was leaning toward him to with a playful smile on her face. Harry wanted to play with Hermione, wanted her to play with him, with his erection. He smiled at how nice and fun that would be. “You know you can't do that this afternoon, Harry,” she said.

He sat up. “What?” Can't play with Hermione? What is this nonsense?

“You can't stare at me when we leave the Leaky Cauldron,” she smiled.

“Meh…” Harry grunted and she laughed.

After Harry didn't have an obvious bulge in his pants and had paid the lunch bill, the four of them entered Diagon Alley and headed for Gringotts for money exchange and withdrawal. Diagon Alley had recovered drastically in the past year, in the past few months, since Voldemort had been defeated and most of the Death Eaters had been captured. There was still evidence of the destruction and devastation that occurred in the past months, but businesses had been refurbished and remodeled, and families had returned, proving how tough and resilient people truly were.

They ran into Dean and Seamus in Flourish and Blotts, chatting a bit to catch up from the summer. Dean asked if either of them knew when the Weasleys, particularly Ginny, were going to be back from their trip, but Harry hardly heard. Seamus was making eyes at Hermione and Harry was very tempted to hex Seamus and smooch Hermione proving she was Harry's to kiss. It was a very possessive urge.

But Harry refrained from doing so. He tried to be rational and told himself that if Seamus knew Hermione was madly in love and with Harry, he wouldn't try to ask her out. The hormonal part of Harry ignored the rational part of Harry.

“Are you going back to the muggles after this, mate?” Dean asked Harry. Hermione must have answered his Weasley related question.

“Thankfully, no,” Harry said. “Hermione's parents were kind enough to lend me their guest room for the next few weeks till school starts.”

“Sweet deal, your muggles don't sound fun.”

Harry nodded. “It is nice to not have everyone flinch when I walk in a room.”

“Man, my brothers and sisters think it's so awesome,” Dean told him. “Ever since I turned seventeen they've been bugging me to show them stuff and Seamus when he comes over.”

“Aw, that's so cute!” Hermione gushed. Girls and little kids, everything's cute to them, Harry thought.

“They begged us to tell them about last year…” he paused a moment, his jaw clenching slightly as if a flashback passed before his eyes. Harry understood exactly how Dean felt; some parts of The Final Battle when the Death Eaters invaded Hogwarts had been bloody and gory and they all would be affected for life. “So we told them some, just that we help fight off really bad guys, and they think we're heroes now. They tell all their classmates their big brother's a hero and helped save the world.”

“Well, you guys are,” Harry said, a serious look on his face while Hermione beamed at them. “We needed all the help we could get. I would have never made it to face off with Voldemort without everyone's help.” Dean and Seamus stiffened slightly at the name, but nothing more. Hopefully, with time, no one would fear his name anymore.

It was then Dean's mother and siblings and Seamus's mother called for him and he and Seamus left. A little boy about eight tried to jump on his older brother's back as they left and a little girl about eleven pulled Seamus's arm to whisper in his ear.

The little buggers are cute.

“Really, Harry, you can't seethe every time another boy talks to me,” Hermione said quietly as they made their way through the aisles of books.

“I wasn't seething and he was flirting,” Harry defended almost curtly.

She smiled at his tone. “Just a few more hours; it can't possibly be that difficult for you.”

“Easy for you to say,” he muttered. “No one's tried to pick up on me.”

Hermione laughed. “No, no one has, they've just been staring incessantly and practically drooling over you from a distance.”

They found Hermione's parents standing in line with their books and joined them. Harry kept fidgeting wanting the line to move faster; they only had everywhere to go after this and he was being unreasonably impatient. Funny how being Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived slash The Golden Boy slash Man-Who-Conquered never seemed to work in his favor…

Hermione suggested stopping by Weasley's Wizard Wheezes to visit the twins before their loads got heavier. Fred and George's store was booming with business as usual and they once again bestowed upon Harry anything he wanted from the store, free of charge.

“Anything for our Number One Investor,” George told him with a tip of an imaginary (or invisible) hat when Harry tried to decline.

Fred showed Hermione their new line they decided to create in honor of her: Study Aids and Study Pranks, with the tag line “Everything you need to earn straight Os and torment your classmates”. Some of the pranks they twins had made years ago, like Exploding and Spell-Checking quills, but now had a special section to advertise them in.

Hermione laughed at some of the gadgets the twins had fashioned; a Dome of Silence to block out unwanted noise and distraction, Flash Cards that could be programmed and reprogrammed for multiple subjects and flashed different colors, Smudging Erasers that didn't really erase but smudged the entire word into one big blot, and dozens of more things.

Harry stood with George a few feet away and watched Hermione as Fred demonstrated and showed everything off to her. Since Fred was still dating Angelina, Harry didn't have to worry about him flirting in a “get with her way” and could just enjoy the beauty of Hermione.

“So how long have you been Jonesing after Hermione?” George asked suddenly.

“Dammit!” Harry said, causing his friend to laugh at him.

“Sorry for pointing it out, mate, but it's obvious,” the red-head told him. He looked at him slyly and commented casually, “She's into you, too, you know.”

Harry grinned; he wasn't the only one who was obvious. “I know,” he told George with a dopey grin still on his face, “we didn't want anyone to find out we're together till we're at Hogwarts. Keep the press at bay kinda thing.”

“Smart man,” George commended, “lucky man. Hermione's a catch, Harry; don't bullocks it up,” he added with a grin and a wink as he headed over to show some stuff to Hermione's parents.

When the four of them left Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, it was with bags of tricks and treats, most they were given for free, some they had to talk their way into buying. “Such nice boys,” Helen commented with a smile, “I would not want to raise them, though.” Harry and Hermione laughed.

Three and a half hours they had finished their shopping in Diagon Alley.

At Madam Malkin's Harry and Hermione bought a few new robes for school, had a few others in excellent condition tailored to fit and donated some they no longer needed.

Harry stopped in Eeylops Owl Emporium to get some more owl treats for Hedwig and a new perch for her cage. He also bought her a larger water dish; she never really drank from it, but he had noticed she liked to splash around a little when she preened. Hermione wanted to get Crookshanks some new toys and treats, so they headed to Magical Menagerie after that.

They filled up their potion supplies at the Apothecary and ran into Neville and his grandmother. During their sixth year at Hogwarts, leading up and during The Final Battle, Neville had filled out and changed from the clumsy, awkward boy to a total bad ass to put it simply. His grandmother was very proud of him, joining the DA in their fifth year and fighting against Voldemort last year. “He's just like his father,” she would say, and Harry would see Neville blush and duck his head, a proud and pleased smile on his face. Harry appreciated that Mrs. Longbottom had come to Hogwarts to help, as well, and one kick arse old fighter had she turned out to be, taking on and killing Bellatrix Lestrange. Neville had his share of vengeance that day, too, eliminating Rodolphus Lestrange. Together, grandmother and grandson completed the revenge of Frank and Alice when they cornered Rabastan Lestrange. All that was found afterwards was a pile of dust.

Harry sometimes saw a darkness cast over Neville's eyes, when the subject would touch that day. He had seen it in several of his classmates, and would for a long time, reliving things they had done, things they had seen, things that had been done to them. War was gruesome, but necessary. Harry read a quote somewhere earlier that summer, something to the extent of, “Evil continues when there are no good people to stop it.” That was what they did, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Neville, the Weasleys, the Hogwarts staff, the students, everyone who fought that day and over the years. They stopped an evil from spreading. And Harry knew they would do it again in a heartbeat.

They chatted with Neville while his grandmother paid the cashier, asked how his summer was, how his scars were healing. Neville, it seemed, ended up with more scars and bruises and burns and broken bones than half the injured put together; none of the wounds hindered him, though, and he didn't stop till everything was done.

“The doctors at St. Mungo's don't think this one's going to heal completely,” Neville said, pointing at a gash on his right cheek. “Pretty nasty curse if I remember right. Anyway, I don't mind too much; girls dig scars, don't they, Harry?”

Harry smiled, touched that Neville still looked up to him for whatever reason, and looked at Hermione. “Hermione would probably answer best.”

Hermione withheld a smile, a Special Harry Smile, when she glanced at him. “It depends on the scar and the story,” she answered in a neutral tone. “Don't worry, Neville, I'm sure loads of girls will `dig' your scars.”

The Longbottoms left, heading out to further their shopping, and Harry and Hermione went along the Apothecary aisles replenishing their potion supplies. “Neville's looking good,” Hermione commented while looking at a bottle of rat liver.

Harry sputtered. “What?” Neville? What about me, Hermione?

“Well, you can't deny that he's not that pudgy, klutzy, forgetful boy anymore,” she said. “He's grown and thinned out, he's not tripping over himself and he's only slightly forgetful. And that scar makes him look like a bad boy. You may have some competition for Sexiest Wizard at Hogwarts,” she teased with a grin.

His eyes stared into hers. “Who would your vote go for?” he asked.

Hermione's gaze was just as intent as Harry's, but more playful with a smile tugging at her lips. You, she mouthed at him then winked and rounded the corner.

Harry grinned like a silly school boy until they walked by Quality Quidditch Supplies. “Ooh, let's look in here!” he exclaimed, not caring that he sounded like a ten year-old passing a toy store.

Hermione rolled her eyes playfully and followed him in. Robert looked around just as enthusiastically and Harry heard Helen mutter, “Boys,” under her breath. She was smiling at them, though, as Harry explained everything to Robert. “Why couldn't you be into sports, Hermione?” he asked and she frowned at her father.

“I like books, Dad,” she said flatly. “I don't mind watching the games, but I'd rather not play.”

“She doesn't like flying,” Harry translated with a teasing grin and Hermione gasped indignantly.

Harry bought new Quidditch gloves, oil to help the gloves last longer, broom polish to refill the kit Hermione had bought him years ago, and some really nice indestructible goggles.

“Don't you only have one year of Quidditch left, Harry?” Hermione asked as they left the store.

“At Hogwarts, yes,” he answered, “but the Auror Academy has a Quidditch team, too. They play against other schools around Europe. Oliver told me about it before he graduated. I'm going to owl them when I get to Hogwarts.”

“You better not break or kill yourself playing there,” she told him with a look that said she might if he did.

“I don't think there will be rogue bludgers and power-hungry professors or dementors after me at Auror Academy, Hermione.”

“You never know,” she defended. “I'm just saying, be careful. I'd rather not lose you,” she added so softly, Harry almost didn't hear.

“Hey,” he said, stopping in the street and pulling her to the side with him, “nothing's going to happen to me.” Harry ducked his head to look into her eyes and gave a reassuring smile. “I promise I'll be extra careful.”

Hermione returned his smile and nodded, looking at ease for the time being.

“This isn't a very good way to hide that you're a couple,” Hermione's father said with a smile, coming up beside them.

“I think we're done shopping,” Helen said, “so let's get some ice cream.”

Sitting at a Florean Fortescue table with Hermione while Helen and Robert browsed the Flourish and Blotts books once more, Harry somewhat regretted Helen suggesting ice cream when he saw how Hermione was going to eat it. He knew she would never eat it such an insinuating way if her parents were here, but at the same time Harry was transfixed and enjoying it. The suggestion of her tongue licking at the scoop of ice cream, catching the melting drips, her lips pulling at it, Harry thought he was going to pass out from loss of blood to his brain.

At least she didn't have a Popsicle.

“You're such a witch,” he told her when she was done.

Hermione looked at him, eyes wide in innocence, but the corners of her mouth twitching in a smile. “What do you mean, Harry?”

He leaned over the table, still hiding his erection, toward her and whispered, “Need I remind you I am a hormonal teenage boy?”

Her grin was huge, her eyes sparkling brightly at him. “That's what I'm counting on.”

*~*~*

The Final Battle stuff I'm more or less borrowing from the end of Deathly Hallows, with a few changes here and there. Like Harry won't be a Christ figure.

Dome of Silence in reference to Cone of Silence on Get Smart, awesome show, awesome movie.

The scene with Dean's siblings is similar to ones I've seen at work and the “The little buggers are cute” is something my best friend and I have said many times

I've always wondered what exactly the owl treats would be... Birds of prey have no interest in anything that isn't meat. No, you cannot make an owl, hawk, falcon, or eagle a vegetarian, they will not eat it, they cannot digest fruit or vegetables, and they would die. I have an owl, he thinks I'm Mommy, so I know this for a fact (tho he did try to eat snow once). That said, would they be like dried rodents? Like Jerky Mice? Little compressed bits of rodent?

We had a Red-Tail Hawk at my work for a long time who loved to take baths in his water dish. He would even break the ice in the winter to sit in it. The owls we have will on occasion splash around in their water for a bath, too.

Oh, and for Hedwig to be as white as she could, she would have to be male. The females have more spots and are darker to blend in while incubating the eggs. JK should have done some more research.

Ice cream seduction scene is from my past…experiences

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6. Sun on the Beach!

Chapter 6

Sun on the Beach!

Thank you for the reviews =)

1) I'm posting this a day early because I have an hour and a half till my next class starts (that's right! Rosie started college again!*) and the Diet Pepsi Max I had with lunch has made taking a nap on the bench out of the question.

So, I'm bored, there are no hott guys in view at the moment and my friend is sick, so she gets a post. Feel better, Amanda; yerba santa and vitamin c =)

2) I love my Author's Notes; they're the reason I write my chapters. Just kidding! But I do enjoy adding the things that go through my mind while writing the chapters and I hope you do, as well =)

If not, well, just don't read them, eh? Lol

3) I was asked in a review where I get my inspiration. Honestly, I have no idea. Some things are from my life, some things I create off other things I've read, some things my beta comments on one thing and I write a whole new section that's virtually unrelated, but mostly it just rattles around in my mind and somehow comes out on paper. I'll be honest, tho, the requirements set for this challenge are really helping me develop the story. Not so much inspiration, but definitely direction.

Lol, now I'm going to be making a conscious effort to figure out what inspires me. Tom Welling =) Libby knows, lol. And Michael Phelps, and Zachary Levi, and my not so little birdman *sigh…*

*~*~*

Life at the Granger household was much more fun than at the Dursleys, no contest. Harry didn't feel like an intruder or unwanted. He didn't stay locked in his room as much as possible avoiding people. Hermione and her parents included him in everything and made him feel like he was part of the family. They were such sweet people, even after the initial pleasantries were past and the family returned to their normal routines, yet including him. Seeing how considerate they still were, Harry knew this is how they honestly were, and weren't putting on a show for him.

What else should he expect from the parents who raised Hermione?

Harry also found over the next few days that he desperately wanted to be a part of this family. He wanted to truly be a son of Helen and Robert. If he had to marry Hermione to accomplish that, then so be it. It was something he would just have to suffer with. Harry grinned to himself.

It was in that first week of being with Hermione that Harry decided he wanted to marry her when they graduated Hogwarts. So what if they were young. His parents were young when they got married; Hermione's parents were young when they got married. They were best friends first and in love second and with that combination, Harry didn't see how they couldn't make a marriage between them work.

There were two things Harry was certain of for his future: he wanted to be an Auror and he wanted to marry Hermione. No, three: he wanted to father Hermione's children.

For now, that was all he needed.

Harry woke one morning to find Hedwig sitting on his wardrobe; she'd gone out hunting and hadn't returned for a few days. “Hey there, girl, I was about to start getting worried about you,” he said to his owl, his first friend. “Where you been?”

In response, the snowy owl turned and picked something up in her beak. Hoping she wasn't bringing him a dead mouse as a present, Harry was much relieved when he saw a scroll of parchment.

“Thanks, Hedwig, I got a treat for you the other day,” he told the bird reaching for a box of owl treats.

While Hedwig munched on the raptor snacks, Harry read the letter she had brought. It was from Ron, a short note in his friend's scribble.

Harry,

Sorry we couldn't get you from the muggles. We were in Egypt visiting Bill and then we stopped in Romania to see Charlie. Hermione said she'd rescue you, though, so I hope you're having fun reading for the rest of summer break.

Ha ha.

I can assure you, I will be enjoying myself here in Romania. There's a girl here, mate, who just loves my red hair! Ginny won't leave me alone, and neither did Fred and George when they stopped by the other day. Ginny at least shut up when I started teasing her about precious Nicu (some bloke Charlie works with). Fred and George don't stop for anything, the blasted gits.

Anyway, I'll see you at King's Cross.

Ron

Harry smiled; he would be having fun this summer with Hermione. And he doubted there would be as much reading as Ron thought. Unless reading was code for something else, like snogging.

Late the day after their London trip, Harry and Hermione sat on the porch swing while her parents were at the office, watching the summer afternoon and occasionally “reading” (Harry snickered at his new code word).

“Harry, I've been wanting to ask you,” Hermione said tentatively, “do you think about…last year much?”

Harry met her gaze, there was so much compassion and understanding in her eyes he had to look away, afraid of what she might read in his own. “A bit,” he answered. “Do you?” It was probably wise to talk about this, traumatic experiences and all. Didn't the government offer all their soldiers psychologist appointments when they returned?

Hermione's eyes dropped to the stones under their feet and she nodded. “Mostly I dream about it,” she said softly and Harry tightened his arm around her shoulder. “I don't really want to think about…what I did and saw and…” She stopped her sentence and Harry knew what she began: and what they did to me… It made his heart break.

“But I need to sometimes,” she continued, “to make sense of it, I suppose.” Her jaw clenched and her voice took a steely note. “I don't regret anything I did that day.” She sounded so resolved Harry wondered what had happened the times they had been separated. Then he realized he didn't want to know, that he didn't need to know. They were alive still; that was all that mattered.

“I know, love, I know,” he said gently, hugging Hermione to his chest when he saw her eyes fill with tears. “I don't either, and I won't hold anything against you.” She cried silently into his shirt as he held her. “I try not to think about it, because I want to forget it…” Harry started talking and found it did help and the words kept coming. “But it's a part of me now, and always will be. It's part of what made me who I am.” He paused and swallowed his emotions; his voice was sounding gruff. “When I don't think about it, when I push it away, then I have the nightmares. Always what I couldn't do, who I couldn't save…”

His voice trailed off and now Hermione was holding him to her chest as tears streaked down his face. When had he started crying? Did his heart always hurt this much when he remembered that awful day? Had his stomach always wanted to heave until he couldn't breathe?

Yes, it did. But Hermione holding him, her gentle fingers running through his hair, her reassuring words, even as she cried herself, helped to sooth him. She always helped him. Why hadn't he seen that sooner? Falling asleep thinking of her held the nightmares at bay, being with her kept the memories from the front of his mind, holding and touching her kept the ache from consuming him.

“Oh, Harry,” she murmured softly, “you couldn't be everywhere, you couldn't do everything. It's not your fault; you're the reason thousands more didn't die.”

“I know,” he choked out, “but some part of me doesn't.”

Together they cried, for what was lost those few months ago, for what has been gained since then, for what will come in time, but mostly, they cried for each other, and the pain the other endured, the pain they couldn't take away, but in time, may ease.

And together, they made one more step to recovery.

*~*~*

The first weekend Harry was with the Grangers they announced that Sunday they were going to the beach. Harry had never been to the beach before, or on anything that could be considered a trip or vacation. There was that zoo trip for Dudley's birthday when he was ten; that was the first and last. Well, he supposed when Vernon was trying to outrun his Hogwarts letters, but that was nowhere near fun for any of them.

Needless to say, Harry was extremely excited when he went to bed Saturday night. Hermione teased him while they were out in the garden. They were sitting on one of the wooden benches and Hermione was leaning against him while he was asking her questions about it.

“Well, there's sand and water and some tide pools in volcanic or sedimentary rock,” she told him and he could hear the smile in her voice. “I think the one we're going to has really nice tide pools.” A small frown of thought at that last sentence.

“What are in the tide pools?” Harry asked.

“Didn't you learn that in grade school?” Hermione turned her head to look at him. He kissed her lips and her nose.

“Maybe, but I like hearing it from you,” he smiled. He wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her tighter to him. Hermione was his favorite blanket, and pillow, and cuddle buddy.

So she told him about the crabs, sea urchins, sea anemones, and other sea creatures that live in the small pools of water protected in the rocks at low tide.

“Wow… And it's free?” Harry couldn't believe this. It sounded so amazing! He couldn't wait till tomorrow.

“Some of them are; the nicer ones charge a parking fee.”

“Which one are we going to?”

“A nicer one.” Hermione kissed his arm and he kissed her head. She smelled so good. Harry was having a time keeping his body and hormones in check. Her laying on him, his arms wrapped around her, her smelling so good (it had to be some sort of pheromone perfume), was sending his body into overdrive. Harry was definitely going to need some private fantasy time before sleep.

“Hermione,” Harry said with a sly smile, “can I kiss you?” Harry had asked her the other day and she thought it was so cute and adorable and whatever other synonyms she had used that she had kissed him until his toes curls. He figured, if he didn't overuse it, the question could keep working.

She turned in his arms and stretch over his body as he leaned back, putting delicious weight on his groin that almost made him groan aloud. “You're so sweet and silly,” she said smiling. Her arms wrapped around his neck to play with his hair as she pressed her lips to his. Her tongue slipped out of her mouth and into his and Harry was lost in her. Whenever she took charge like that it threw him for a loop and his head spun with emotions and hormones and keeping his body in check became a distant thought.

Harry's pulled her closer to him, her breasts pressing into his chest. Hermione's hands playing in his hair, with his ears, with his neck were making him want her all the more than he always did. He knew his body was responding to her but he couldn't stop it.

And then Hermione was pressing her hips into his thigh and their tongues and lips danced together. Was she..? Is she? Did I? were the broken thoughts running through Harry's head.

Hermione's subtle squirming against him emboldened Harry and took a bold risk of running a hand from Hermione's back to her round, perfect bottom, caressing the denim-covered area. She moaned into his mouth, which Harry took as a good sign. Encouraged further, he made another daring move and slid his other hand up Hermione's ribs to the side of her breast. She squirmed against him and moaned and Harry felt a surge of manliness at the fact he was causing this. It aroused him more than he already was and he groaned.

Somehow, in his hormone-clouded, blood deficient, preoccupied mind, Harry registered footsteps on the path. His hands immediately flew to more family friendly regions of Hermione's body, resulting in her ending the kiss and scowling at him slightly.

“Your parents,” he grunted, trying to sit up with her on his chest. Harry could have sworn Hermione growled at his words.

Helen came walking around the hedge a moment later, just as Harry had crossed his leg to hide the massive bulge in his pants. His erection to making out with Hermione was not something he wanted advertised to her parents.

“Oh, there you kids are,” Helen said smiling at them. “Your father and I have made some hot cocoa if you two would like any before bed. Hot cocoa always puts me right to sleep,” she added smiling still and closing her eyes in happy satisfaction.

“Translation,” Hermione began, “`it's getting late; go to bed'.”

Harry laughed, only slightly nervously, afraid at possibly having to stand up for Helen to see what him and her daughter had been doing or near doing or practically doing or whatever. Lucky for Harry, Hermione was a genius and rescued him.

“We'll be right there, Mum. We were actually just about to head in,” she told her mother with an innocent smile.

For some reason that smile made Harry want her all the more.

The witch probably knew that, too.

Helen nodded then headed back to the house, glancing at them over her shoulder.

“I'm sorry,” Harry said immediately.

“Whatever are you sorry for?” Hermione asked incredulous.

He thought for a moment on how to phrase his reply. “Being bold,” he told her.

Hermione frowned at him for a second, then blushed and smiled. “Harry, you have nothing to be sorry about,” she reassured him. “Trust me,” she emphasized by rubbing his knee.

That simple contact sent the blood, which had been returning to its proper circulating body parts, rushing back to his groin. “Hermione,” he felt like panting with the effort of concentrating on not having his erection return, “if you want me to get up any time soon, you'll need to stop touching me.”

“Oh,” she pulled her hand away as if it had been burned, “sorry.” Hermione even scooted a few inches down the bench from him.

Harry tried to focus on things that were not sexual, but everything kept becoming sexual. Even Quidditch, since Hermione riding a broom, naked, kept creeping in. Finally he became desperate enough to think of Dudley and that did the trick in a heartbeat. He also nearly vomited.

“Okay, we can go now,” Harry said bolting to his feet. He wanted some of that hot cocoa to wash the vomit taste from his mouth.

For the rest of his life, Harry would firmly believe the Grangers had slipped something in that hot cocoa. As soon as he finished a cup, he felt exhausted and ready to curl into bed. Even as he dragged his feet up the stairs, drowsily following Hermione and her lovely bum, Harry knew private fantasy time was a must unless he wanted a mess to clean up in the morning.

So, after saying goodnight to Hermione at her bedroom door, Harry relaxed under his blanket in bed and let his mind wander back to kissing Hermione on the bench, the feel of her bum, the feel of her breast, the feel of her on him. He imagined her touching him, stroking him instead of his own hand. Moments later, he was done. Harry cleaned up and felt much more relaxed than with the hot cocoa alone. He fell into a deep sleep filled with dreams of Hermione.

*~*~*

Harry woke with excitement early the next day but continued lying in bed, eyes closed, thinking about what the beach might be like. If it was a nice beach, there would probably be a bunch of rich, preppy, pretty boys who thought they shit silver or pissed platinum or were arrogant dickhead assholes for some other reason and could do whatever the hell they wanted. And if they didn't have their rich, preppy, high maintenance girlfriends (or even if they did, some guys were low-lives like that), they would be oogling and hitting on Hermione. His Hermione.

Maybe the beach won't be so much fun after all…

Harry scrunched up his face; he felt something strange, like he was being watched. He knew the feeling, it happened a lot, but never while he was in bed.

His hand wrapped around his wand under his pillow before cracking an eye open to see Hermione stretched out on his bed, head propped on one arm, watching him with a smile on her face.

Harry was slightly confused at first; he had said goodnight to Hermione at her room, hadn't he? His dream of falling asleep with her had been just a dream, right?

Sod it. It was too early to think, not to mention the blood flow to his brain was diverted to his morning stiffy.

“Morning,” Harry said.

Hermione smiled and kissed his nose. “Good morning.” She had been lying beside him for five minutes wondering how long it would be before he woke. She had been very tempted to crawl under the covers and snuggle with him or kiss him awake, but had resisted. The boy was already wondering if she had slept in her own bed or in his and snuggling would have just confused him more.

It would have been fun, though, to confuse him, and simply wonderful to pretend to wake up in his arms.

“If you want to go the beach today, you're going to have to get out of bed,” Hermione teased Harry.

He smiled and scrunched up his nose at her. “I'll get up in a minute,” he told her.

“Okay, I'll wait,” she replied with a grin.

Harry's eyes widened a little, then he frowned, then grinned. Strange boys, Hermione thought. Strange boys with their strange emotions.

“If you wait,” Harry began, “then I get the shower first.”

What is he playing at…?

Hermione didn't really care since she wasn't planning on showering. They were going to the beach so what did it matter was her opinion? She was curious, though.

“Why do you want the shower first?” Hermione asked suspiciously.

“Because you always get it first.” He sounded almost indignant.

She laughed. “Okay, Harry, you can have the shower first.”

He paused a moment, blinked, then said, “So you're actually going to wait?” He seemed very surprised.

This aroused Hermione's curiosity even more. “Well, you are getting the shower first,” she answered.

“Oh, ok.” Then Harry pulled on a What-the-Hell, carefree, Devil-Be-Damned smirk that, if Hermione had been anyone but Hermione, she would have swooned. She did feel vaguely light headed and her breathing was slightly faster.

Harry threw back the covers and climbed out of bed, clad only in a pair of boxers from the wizarding world that had zooming Quidditch players and snitches on it, and stretched his arms above his head and out. Hermione sat up against the headboard and admired Harry's strong back and arms as the muscles flexed and relaxed while he stretched.

“Are you going to wear your suit to the beach?” he asked turning to look at her. Hermione didn't entirely hear the question, however. As soon as Harry turned, her mouth fell open in a gasp and her gaze was transfixed on Harry's boxers. Not on the magical aspect of the shorts, but on the tented groin of Harry's boxers, only emphasized by the Seekers rocketing around on the cloth.

“Hermione?” she vaguely heard Harry say. “Hermione.” She tore her eyes from his crotch momentarily to look at his face. He looked completely relaxed, like nothing out of the ordinary was happening when, in fact, this was a HUGE step for their relationship. Groping last night was one new thing and slightly expected, but now seeing Harry in only his boxers with a giant erection was a big leap for the next morning.

It was so arousing and enticing, Hermione couldn't help but stare at it. She had managed to close her mouth, but she could not for the life of her keep from gazing at it. “Yes, Harry?” her voice even sounded breathy to her own ears. Her eyes flickered to him and back to his boxer covered erection. Was it peeking out?

“Are you going to wear your suit to the beach or change there?” he repeated.

“Um…” she began. It was…hard…to focus with Harry standing there all nonchalant with his giant pup tent. Hermione wasn't even sure giant was the word for it. Massive, enormous, colossal, those might fit better. Was it really that big? Oh great, let's add that to the cocktail of thoughts Hermione had regarding Harry.

“I was going to wear my suit there,” Hermione finally managed to answer.

“Okay, thanks, 'Mione,” Harry said, and he had a smirk on his face! The blasted wizard was doing this on purpose! Oh, it is so on, Hermione thought.

Harry turned to get his swim trunks and headed for the door and Hermione was given a profile view of Harry as he lazily and casually sauntered. Massive was definitely a more accurate word than giant, Hermione decided as she watched him strut. How it was still confined in the boxers was a mystery to Hermione. Fabric could only stretch so far! She allowed herself a satisfied smile that Harry checked the hall before venturing out for the bathroom.

As if Hermione wasn't thinking about Harry and Harry's body enough after that first kiss in his room, and their kissing last night and every other kiss in between. NOW she would have thoughts and images of how big he was. And he had done it intentionally! That's what that bloody blooming smirk meant.

Oh, she would get even. Today she would get even for his little show; she would have a little show of her own.

Hermione grinned almost evilly; she knew the perfect swim suit for the beach today.

*~*~*

Harry fidgeted the entire drive to the beach, practically bouncing in his seat as he watched out the window. Hermione was surprised he didn't incessantly ask “Are we there yet? Are we there yet?” She couldn't blame him for being excited, though; he'd never been to the beach before. She hoped today would be fun enough for him, that she could give him one happy vacation memory for his childhood, teen though he was.

When they pulled into the parking lot, all of Harry's restless shifting stopped and he stared intently at the sand and ocean. He practically leapt from the car as soon as it stopped and stood staring, taking deep breathes of the salty air.

“He's never had a vacation before,” Hermione told her parents softly as the three of them watched Harry.

“I never did like the Dursleys,” her father said in his gruff, no-nonsense voice, “and now I don't like them more.” He paused a moment and glanced at his wife. “Do we still have to be their dentist, sweetie?”

“I don't see how we can get out of it,” Hermione's mother answered as she got out of the car. “Speaking of dentists, we should take Harry in sometime before he and Hermione leave for school.”

“Brilliant idea. Who knows if he's ever been.”

Harry came back to the car to help them unload and Hermione couldn't stop smiling at how eager he was. They found a nice sandy spot higher on the beach clear of large rocks and branches and seaweed and a little more isolated from the other groups.

“You see, Harry,” Hermione's father began in his “passing on valuable life information” voice, “it's easier when you go to the beach to find a spot that's further from the water, so when high tide comes in, you won't have to move.”

Harry grinned and he looked even more like an excited little boy out with the family. Hermione could only imagine how being with her parents, who were so interactive and involved and willing to talk with and teach you, must be like after coming from the Dursleys.

Harry looked down at the waves lapping in. “So it's low tide right now?” he asked.

“Yes, it is,” her mother answered with a smile, unfolding her lawn chair under the umbrella. “The tide will start rising in about 3 hours.”

Harry's eyes lit up like someone turn on Christmas lights and he took Hermione's hand. “Let's go to the tide pools, 'Mione!”

She laughed; it was hard not to be affected by his enthusiasm. “Okay, Harry, we will,” she told him with a smile only used with him.

“Sunblock,” her mother's voice came from behind her magazine. “I don't want any whining about sunburns later.”

“Yes, mother,” Hermione replied with exaggerated obedience and a smile at her mother, who shook her head and muttered, “Teenagers.”

Hermione grabbed the bottle of SPF 50 that claimed to be sweat-proof, rub-proof and water-proof. “Take off your shirt, Harry,” she said opening the bottle.

“My, aren't you forward, Miss Hermione,” he teased, pulling the white t-shirt over his head.

Hermione was very glad for her sunglasses as she couldn't help but stare at Harry's incredible body. She bit her lower lip as she squeezed sun block into her hand. She had felt his body under his shirt, she had seen him topless a few times, but now she was touching his beautiful, naked torso. Her hands slid over the defined planes of his back and shoulders, over the bundles of strong muscles coiled there. She felt Harry sigh and relax under her hands.

Applying the sunscreen to his chest and stomach was another story, however. Apparently Harry was rather ticklish, a fact Hermione filed away for later, and spreading the cream over his stomach had him squirming and giggling like a little girl.

“Harry!” she exclaimed when he wriggled away from her for the seventh time. “Here,” she squeezed some into his hands, “you rub it on your stomach and chest since you're so ticklish and I'll put it on your face.”

“Okay.” He seemed resigned as he tucked his glasses in his swim trunk pocket. Hermione admired him a moment before lathering his face with sunblock. He cut a fine figure in his swimsuit, the green hibiscus pattern bringing out his eyes, the style of the shorts highlighting his lean and muscular body. Hermione would have to keep an eye on him or some hussies and trollops might try to swoop him up. Harry was too nice to defend himself against a bunch of girls, no matter how evil their intentions.

After Harry had been covered in sunscreen, it was Hermione's turn. She felt a little nervous about what Harry's reaction to her suit might be as she pulled off her shirt and shorts. She need not have worried, though; Hermione could tell by his silence Harry was absolutely stunned by her appearance. She allowed herself a small pleased smile.

“Hermione Jane!” her mother exclaimed. “How on Earth do you plan to keep that on?”

“Magic, Mum,” she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, to which her mother rolled her eyes and Hermione grinned. It wasn't that bad. She supposed the strings could untie, but that's what magic sticking charms are for, and the triangle shaped top covered most of her breast and the bottom wasn't as low as some suits out there. Really, some of the suits some girls were look like the things strippers strip down to.

Hermione turned her back to Harry to have him apply the sunscreen. She smiled again when she heard him gulp. Hermione did underestimate the sexy factor of Harry's hands rubbing across her skin. It was almost intoxicating the feel of his callused hand on her.

“I think Hermione can take care of the front part of her body and her legs, Harry,” her dad said suddenly, giving a stern fatherly look over his sunglasses at the two of them. Hermione almost wanted to throw the Coppertone bottle at him.

“Yes, sir,” Harry said quickly in an unusually high voice. He did help put the sunblock on her face, leaving a blob on her nose.

“We're going to the tide pools, Mum and Dad,” Hermione told her parents then took Harry's hand and headed down the beach.

In the car, realizing Harry would quite possibly spend as much time at the tide pools as he possibly could, Hermione had conjured up some nice comfy scuba shoes for them. “This way,” she told Harry when she handed him his pair, “we won't tear up our feet and our toes will stay nice and dry.”

“As long as water doesn't go over the top,” he commented, tugging them on. “Ooh, cozy,” he smiled

Harry and Hermione had great fun exploring the tide pools, but Hermione had more fun watching Harry. His notorious Seeker skills were put to use catching various tide pool creatures. With his hands already under water, he was uncommonly successful and would very gently examine the creature for a moment, showing it to Hermione, before her returning it to its home. Harry always made sure to return it to the same pool of water he had pulled it from. “What if it has a husband or wife and kids?” he said when she commented on it. Hermione loved how childlike Harry could be and could never resist kissing him when he showed it. This time was no exception and they kissed softly and playfully while balancing on the uneven rocks.

Catching the small tide pool life forms also resulted in Harry having several small cuts and bruises on his hands. “I told you the crabs and lobsters were fast and strong,” Hermione chided gently, turning his hands tenderly in hers. “I'll heal them when we get back to the car.” At Harry's small frown at what Hermione assumed was the pain, she kissed each boo-boo. “Kisses have magical healing powers when given with love, so all better,” she told Harry with a smile. Her father had told her that when she was a little girl, falling off her bike, and it always made her feel better. Psychology was an amazing thing. Now, Harry beamed back at her.

The octopi amazed Harry the most, though, especially when Hermione told him how smart as well as strong they were. “They'll escape from their cage and break into another cage to eat all the fish in there, then go back into their cage. Scientists have filmed it quite a few times in labs.”

“Brain and brawn,” he muttered. “Whoa…”

“Just like you, when you try,” Hermione told him with a smile.

Harry retaliated by tickling her sides and stomach, though they ended up kissing again.

When the tide came in, the couple headed back to Hermione's parents for a snack and drink and Harry spent most of the time telling the two dentists about everything they saw at the tide pools. They listened patiently, with smiles and questions and comments (Hermione had been their child after all), until he was all talked out and stretched out on his beach towel.

Hermione relaxed on her towel watching him, talking occasionally with her parents, and munching on some carrots her parents had packed. Dentist had interesting choices in snacks. She would look around now and then, taking in the beauty of the beach while overlooking the swarms of people. She did notice the other girls staring, drooling, over Harry and glancing, scowling, at her.

It upset Hermione. It also made her want to show the slags and slappers who Harry belonged to, but in a delicate, feminine, artistic way.

She leaned over and rubbed a hand over his chest, pressed her lips to his cheek and murmured, “Let's go swimming, Harry.” Or be a bit more blunt.

Harry's eyes cracked open and he grinned. Instead of answering, he jumped up and took her hand to head to the water.

“Be back for lunch soon,” her mother called after them and they waved in response.

They swam out past the waves to where the water was smooth and splashed and teased and dunked each other and swam around. Most of the dunking and teasing resulted in caresses and kisses. She grinned against his mouth as his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her close.

“What are you smiling about?” Harry asked as they pulled away.

She pressed her lips to his in a chaste kiss and murmured against them, “I get you when all these other girls want you.”

“Mm, yes, you do,” Harry said. He ran one hand over her bum and pulled her hips closer to his. She could feel him against her. It gave her a special thrill and excited her to know she could do that to him, that he was aroused because of her.

His other hand slid up her back and a finger slipped under her bikini ties. Hermione's breathed hitched; Harry's hands had such an effect on her. “I can say the same thing about all these…schmuck…boys staring at you.” He kissed her again, his tongue gently rubbing into hers as his fingers danced along her back and sides. “This suit you're wearing isn't turning their attention from you, either,” he added, a finger trailing along the edge of her top, just brushing her skin. It sent shivers along her body and made her slightly light-headed.

“It's payback for this morning, Bucko,” she retorted, when she recovered, pinching Harry's side slightly.

He gasped in mock indignation. “Me? What did I do?”

Hermione pressed her body into Harry's firm length a little more. “You know what you did.” She enjoyed how his eyes fluttered shut at the contact, almost as much as she enjoyed the contact herself.

“Oh… Yes… Well, you insisted on waiting until I got out of bed.” He seemed to focusing on getting his words out. “I was hoping to tease you,” he said in explanation, a half-glare directed at her.

Hermione smiled. “Tease me you did, Harry James.” She pressed against him again; he groaned and she giggled.

“I love you,” Harry said, hugging her close to him.

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione clung to him, the shifting waters rocking them into one another. Her heart swelled whenever he said the words. “I love you, too.”

*~*~*

Ah! A bit of angst there! Had to keep it realistic

Thanks to Libby! She's my savior =)

Nicu: Diminutive of Nicolae; Romanian form of Nicholas; From the Greek name Î�Î¹ÎºÎ¿Î»Î±Î¿Ï‚ (Nikolaos) which meant "victory of the people" from Greek Î½Î¹ÎºÎ· (nike) "victory" and Î»Î±Î¿Ï‚ (laos) "people".

I actually just thought it sounded cool and Romanian and used it.

Hibiscus: a large (200-220 different species) genus of flowering plants in the Malvaceae family native to tropical and subtropical regions; Hibiscus rosa-sinensis is the national flower of Malaysia; Hibiscus patterning has become popular in clothing lines in recent years, mainly in summer attire (board shorts, swimwear, mu'umu'u, etc.)

Underestimated the sexy factor inspired by the 2008 E*Trade Super Bowl commercial

Childlike and childish are two very different things. Childlike is fun, childish is annoying. I freely admit I'm childlike =)

The Magical Healing Kisses is something I more or less elaborated on from my mom

Tis true about the octopi. My friend's uncle would catch the fish while scuba diving that his science buddy would use.

After mentioning the zoo trip from Sorcerer's Stone, I was thinking about the movies for Sorcerer's Stone and Chamber of Secrets and I have the urge to point this out: Snakes don't have eyelids or ears, so they can't wink or hear.

Hollywood really should research things a bit more.

In Transformers, they say they carbon dated the All Spark to 10,000 B.C. I personally don't believe there was a 10,000 B.C., but you definitely cannot carbon date a rock. Rocks have carbon, but not the carbon in the atmosphere that they used in carbon dating. Furthermore, carbon dating is only accurate to about 8,000 years.

The sad thing is scientists make the same mistakes…

* I am a Kinesiology major at Cal State Northridge where I am currently taking 17 units. We'll see how this affects this story. Feel free to ask me any questions =)

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7. Wanking Woes and Repayment

Chapter 7

Wanking Woes and Repayment

1) Thank you for the reviews. The number per chapter has been declining the last few updates, so I'm wondering what you guys aren't liking so much about the story? Is it the lack of intimacy? Feedback helps me a lot with writing the chapters. You think we authors just say that, but it's very true.

Hopefully, if it is that the story is not quite NC-17, this chapter will help alleviate that problem.

2) Libby = Best Beta Eva! Ah, and I do love our conversations after your comments… =) I live to please :-D

Yes, I am including some of her comments from the AN in red

3) Okay, I know some of the things I say can be controversial, but if you're going to contradict me, leave an email or sign in so I can reply. Like seriously, you can't be a pansy if you're going to debate. I'm not going to yell at you or be mean or anything, but I will explain my point.

Like snakes do not have ears, or holes in their head that hear (which would be ears). Snakes have sensitive bones in their ears, like the malleus, incus, and stapes (more commonly the hammer, anvil and stirrup) found in human ears that sense the vibrations of movement and sound, but they do not hear sound.

Scientists say they can use carbon-14 dating for 60,000 years but they can't with anything remotely near accuracy. Scientists who believe in evolution will say anything that supports their hypothesis of evolution. Fossils cannot be carbon dated because they are rock and rock has no organic material in it.

I'm a kinesiologist, geologist, botanist, astronomist, anthropologist, biologist, ecologist, dendrologist, naturalist, herbalist, sexologist, herpetologist, etc. so I do know what I'm talking about with pretty much everything I say. And if I don't know, I'm a person will look it up and research it.

*~*~*

The beach had been load of fun for Harry; it was like a vacation within a vacation. The tide pools had been so interesting and amazing and fun, Harry found a new hobby within the muggle world.

Hermione had looked incredible in her swimsuit. Harry had fought very hard to keep himself under control and show appropriate propriety in front of the Grangers and a public beach. He was quite proud of himself.

Swimming had been a wonderful idea and brilliant cover to touch each other. Harry must remember to tell Hermione that, when they weren't at breakfast, when her parents weren't around.

Standing in the water up to Hermione's shoulders, the gently rolling waves rocking them against each other, while they were hidden from prying and jealous eyes, Harry had been brazen enough to actually cup and caress Hermione's breast. Far from slapping and cursing him, like he was half afraid of, she had moaned deep in her throat as they kissed and leaned into him. Her entire body had been pressed against his and, after an hour of kissing and rocking and fondling Hermione's breasts, Harry had nearly climaxed.

Maybe not nearly, but it probably would not have taken much effort for him to get off. The fact that they were in public made it taboo and seem much more erotic.

Thinking about the beach, Hermione in her sexy suit, touching her amazing body was sending Harry's hormones into action. He really didn't want an erection while sitting at the kitchen table with Hermione and her parents. With just Hermione, that would have been fine, might even have been fun, but her parents… No… Harry wanted to live.

“So Robert and I will take you in tomorrow, Harry,” Helen was saying to him, about what, Harry hadn't a clue.

“What?” He thought back frantically in his mind to the subject of the conversation. “Oh, the dentist.” Too busy today, tomorrow morning is very open. “Yes, ma'am.” Harry had never been to the dentist before. The way Dudley always complained and whined and screamed about going just last month, made Harry a little nervous. “It won't…hurt, will it?” he asked, trying to sound unconcerned and nonchalant.

“Only if you have a cavity,” Robert answered from behind his paper. He folded down one corner with a finger and peered at Harry. “Then we have to drill,” he said in a gravely serious voice.

“Oh, stop trying to scare him, Robert,” Helen slapped at his arm. “You would know if you have a cavity, dear,” she told Harry. “Tomorrow we'll give you a cleaning and x-ray to see if there are any areas you need to watch, nothing to worry about at all.”

“Meh…” Harry muttered.

“So what are you kids doing today?” Robert asked, setting aside his paper and spearing a sausage with his fork.

“I have an essay to finish,” Harry said. Now that he didn't have to hide under the covers while doing his homework, now that he was allowed to do it freely, homework didn't seem nearly as much fun. At least he only had one left.

“I suppose I'll read until Harry can come out and play,” Hermione teased.

Though Harry knew the remark was a completely innocent reference to childhood, in his currant raging hormone state, the words took a much more erotic and arousing sense. Images of caressing and kissing a naked Hermione, of a naked Hermione caressing and kissing a naked Harry, among many more non-kitchen-table-with-parents-friendly thoughts flashed before his eyes.

Robert glanced at his watch. “Oh, look at the time, Helen. We're almost late.”

“Dad means they're almost not going to be early,” Hermione told Harry with a smile. She leaned towards Harry a bit to mock whispering it and he could see the curve of her breast down her tank top. Harry smiled back at Hermione, but he wasn't sure why.

Nevertheless, the dentists rushed out the door with a hurried “Bye kids, behave.” And Harry and Hermione were alone.

Hermione leaned on her elbow on the table and looked at Harry through her thick lashes. She looked utterly innocent and utterly seductive all at once. “So, Harry, what do you want to do when you're done with your essay?”

Ravage your body with mine, his mind and groin screamed. “Um… I don't know,” he answered. Liar. “We can figure that out when I'm done,” he smiled, willing his subconscious to shut up.

“Okay, are you going to eat me?”

Harry blinked. Down boy. “What?”

“Are you going to eat that, or are you done?” Hermione repeated, pointing at his plate.

“Oh, no, I am very done, full, not hungry.” Harry stopped his rambling and took a breath. “I'm going to work on my essay in my room,” he told her. He kissed her cheek and left quickly.

Up in his room, Harry shut the door and leaned against it. Stupid, bloody hormones, he thought. What the hell good are they?

Harry decided that ignoring his body and its perverted desires was the safest idea and took out his parchment for his Transfigurations essay. After having to refocus his attention every thirty seconds and starting the same sentence ten times only to have each outcome include Hermione's name, an intimate body part or a sexual act, Harry realized ignoring his body and attempting homework was the stupidest idea he'd ever had.

“Maybe some Private Fantasy Time will help me concentrate,” he muttered to himself, his penis already sprung to life.

Harry unzipped and stepped out of his shorts and boxers; he wanted to do this comfortably, without the clothing getting in the way. If his hormones were going to control him, by golly he was going to do it his way and Bob's your uncle!

He stretched out on the comforter of the bed and slowly began to stroke himself. He wanted to take his time with this, do it right. Harry closed his eyes and pictured Hermione in her bikini. She was so beautiful, she always was. He remembered how it felt to touch her body, to feel her pressed against him, her little moans as they kissed when he caressed her breast. His hand slid over his shaft, rubbing around the head, pretending it was her soft, gentle touch instead of his calloused one.

Blimey, Hermione was amazing; she could get him all worked up and hot and bothered without even trying. Harry thought of how innocent and seductive she could look, at the same time! He wondered if she knew what she did to him…

“Hey, Harry, do you want some help…” Hermione's voice trailed off as she walked through the door.

Well she does now, his brain said.

Harry looked up surprised, startled, shocked, stunned, flabbergasted, etc., at Hermione, his penis in his hand. He'd only just professed his love to her and now she walks in on him in this private, slightly embarrassing moment. He was horrified. This could be the most humiliating moment of his life. Merlin, his Smiley Face Hot Stuff boxers were even lying on the floor. Just bloody perfect.

Hermione stood staring at him, his hand still on his erect penis (he wasn't about to remove the little cover and decency he had remaining), saying nothing, just staring, just…admiring.

Harry was suddenly very turned on. Still mortified, but now extremely aroused at being caught in The Act by Hermione, the object of The Act's fantasy. His hand began to move on its own volition. He remembered reading or hearing or something somewhere that masturbating in front of one another was a couple's truest sign of comfort and trust.

Stop it, you fool! the logical part of his brain screamed.

No, it's hot! Get off to her watching you! encouraged the hormonal, perverted part.

Harry was torn between the two; it was extremely arousing, but it might intimidate Hermione. It was one thing to show her the pup tent in his boxers, but this was an extremely exposed and erect penis staring at her. Undecided, Harry's hand slowly continued its motion on his penis.

Just as slowly as Harry's hand was moving, Hermione turned around and Harry closed his eyes in horror and disgust. He had scared her away, ran through his mind when he heard the door close quietly. The best thing to happen to him in his life, and he scared her away.

Then he heard footsteps coming toward him and he opened his eyes in disbelief. Hermione was standing at the edge of his bed, looking as though a torrent of emotions were rolling through her mind and body. One thing was clear: she was determined. Harry was so shocked, his entire body stopped functioning. Then oxygen deprivation made him breathe again and his heart resumed beating, but the rest of his body help statue still.

Touching his leg gently, she encouraged him to move till he was sitting at the edge of the bed. She stood a mere foot in front of him and Harry, his hand still gripping himself, had never felt so vulnerable, emotionally or physically, let alone both at the same time.

Hermione touched his cheek softly with her hand.

“Hermione, I -” Harry began, but she silenced him with a finger to his lips.

“Shh…” she told him softly and ran her hand through his hair. She stepped closer and Harry was transfixed on her eyes, her beautiful deep brown eyes. Then she kissed him, softly, tenderly, one hand running through his hair, the other trailing down his chest.

Harry was so dumbfounded he just sat there, not reacting, except for his stiffy, which pulsed with his racing heartbeat, begging for attention. His dick had grown harder, if that were possible.

Hermione's lips left his to pull his shirt over his head and drop it on the floor. Harry was now completely naked in front of her. She kissed his lips again, and this time Harry started to react when her tongue touched his, but Hermione pulled back and began kissing his neck.

Harry moaned a little as she kissed down his neck and pressed a couple simple kisses on his pecs, and then she was on her knees in front of him. Harry's breath caught in his throat at the sight of her between his naked legs; it was the most erotic thing so far in his short life.

Hermione took his wrist and moved both his hands to the bed on either side of his body. Harry was now fully and completely exposed to her. Her hands rested lightly on his thighs as she examined him.

That's exactly what it was: an examination. Harry should have known Hermione would be this way, the adorable bookworm she was. She probably already researched every aspect of relationships from emotional to intimate.

Harry was suddenly very curious and concerned about what Hermione thought of his member. Did it look gross to her? Was it…small?

No, it couldn't be. He had never measured it exactly, but the shaft was almost two of his hand lengths. So his dick wasn't short. Was it too thin?

What was that he'd heard in the locker room? Long and thin, too far in; short and thick, does the trick.

What was thin? He couldn't be, could he? No… it was a handful for him. Was it too thick and scared her? Ah criminey! Being male was so nerve-wracking!

What if she thought his pubic hair was gross and should shave it all? Did she think he shouldn't shave any of it? Harry couldn't stand having hair on his balls for some reason; it just irritated him to no end, and had taken to shaving his boys every day. He liked having some above his shaft, but if Hermione wanted it all gone, it would be all gone; if she wanted him to grow it out…he would suffer. Whatever his Hermione wanted.

Hermione's hands danced lightly up his thighs, and one of her small hands gently grasped his length at the base and Harry inhaled sharply at the contact. His dick looked so much larger when she was holding it and Harry felt a surge of manly pride. She continued to study his penis and Harry now understood why adults played “Doctor”; it was hot, especially when he imagined Hermione in one of those skimpy nurse costumes.

Her fingers skimmed his skin and the feeling made Harry want to squirm in desire, but he held still; he didn't want to do anything that might startle Hermione or make her stop. Her hand slid up and down his shaft and he stifled a moan, but gasped when she ran her thumb around the head of his penis.

Harry never took his eyes from Hermione. He wanted to see every flicker of thought that crossed her mind as she…examined…him. He saw the fascination on her face when she took his hand away, the enthrallment when she touched him. Maybe it didn't scare her, then? Maybe she really liked it! And she would touch him more!

When Harry gasped at her touch, he saw the satisfied smile cross her face. In Harry's mind that confirmed that they would most definitely be doing this again. Maybe she'll let him touch her…? The thought made him groan in anticipation.

Hermione rose to her feet and Harry stomach plunged in disappointment. Had he done something she didn't like? Her fingers threaded into his hair to pull his mouth to hers in a hungry kiss. Guess not, he thought, his hands moving to her hold her waist. Hermione pulled away, kissed his cheek, bit his ear lobe gently, and whispered, “Don't hold back,” before dropping to her knee again. His hands she placed on the bed once more.

She pressed a kiss to Harry's inside thighs, one then the other. Not a little peck of a kiss, but opening her mouth and swirling her tongue on his skin. If he hadn't been hard as a rock, he would have been in an instant after that.

Hermione grasped his member again, her soft hand stroking his length gently from base to head and the delicate contact made his head swim.

When she pressed slow, purposeful kisses up the sides of his shaft, alternating each time, Harry thought he would explode from the sheer surprise of it. Was she going to…? Hermione do…that...to him? She reached the round head of his penis and looked at it quizzically. Harry watched mesmerized as she contemplated it, her hand still stroking the shaft. Hermione kissed the tip and his penis gave an involuntary twitch. She smiled and ran her tongue around it.

Harry's eyes rolled and he groaned aloud when Hermione took the head of his penis in her mouth, still swirling her tongue around. She took more of him in her mouth, one hand stroking in time with her head, the other clutching his thigh. She gave long strokes to his dick with her mouth and her hand, her lips gripping the shaft pleasurably.

Harry gave a deep moan at the feeling and couldn't resist threading his fingers in her hair and massaging her head as she massaged him. Harry watched as her head bobbed on him, stroking three, four or more times, pausing at the head to circle her tongue around it, then resuming her stroking. That was her rhythm: stroke, stroke, stroke, swirl, stroke, stroke, swirl, stroke, swirl, swirl and so on, mixing it up. The swirling felt nothing short of amazing, with extra emphasis.

Harry was amazed at the magic of her tongue, mouth and hands as he watched Hermione work. When she glanced up and met his gaze, she smiled around his dick and it was enough to make him twitch and have to resist an involuntary thrust.

Then Hermione was taking more of his length in her mouth, much more, most of it, actually, until her felt the back of her throat and Harry gasped and gawked and groaned at the sight and sensations. Now she included that in her rhythm; stroke, stroke, deep, swirl, stroke, swirl, stroke, stroke, swirl, stroke, swirl, swirl, deep, swirl, swirl, stroke, stroke and on and on and on and it was tough to decide if the swirling or deep-throating was better.

Harry's brain was swimming, his head spinning, his mind reeling. This was Hermione, Hermione, about whom he had fantasized, dreamed, lusted and loved, doing this to him. Hermione, the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, the woman he wanted to bear his children, the ultimate love of his life, who loved him back.

All her actions, all the physical feelings building in his body, coupled with knowing her love for him, feeling her love, experiencing her love for him was Harry's undoing.

“Oh, oh, Her- Hermione…” he groaned as his orgasm washed over him and he slumped on his elbows. Hermione stroked him a few more times with her mouth and hand as his penis spurt and twitched. While his member was still in her mouth, Hermione met his gaze and very deliberately swallowed. It made Harry want to come all over again.

Hermione pulled her mouth away from Little Harry and crawled on the bed beside Big Harry. She smiled at him and he wrapped on arm around her shoulders to lie beside him. Crikey, she was beautiful, he thought.

“Did you like that?” Hermione asked, stretching out beside him. She laid her hands on his chest and rested her chin on them so she could watch him. She sounded somewhat self-conscious now that she didn't have his erect penis in her hand or mouth. She was even blushing! Harry should have known there would a question time, the curious little witch Hermione was.

Harry chuckled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Of course I did, sweetie.” He kissed her forehead and wrapped both arms around her for a hug, whispering in her ear, “What you did felt so amazing and incredible. It was by far the best experience of my life,” he told her honestly.

She drew away from him slightly. “So far,” she said, giving him a peck on his lips.

“Oh, Hermione!” Harry groaned, before laughing with her.

“Does it always do that?” Hermione asked, looking down his body at his penis.

“Do what?” Harry followed her gaze to where his penis was still erect even minutes after his climax. “Oh, yeah, usually for a good ten minutes or so, longer if he gets some attention,” he added suggestively with a grin and a waggle of his eyebrows at her.

“That goes against everything I learned,” Hermione said, her voice somewhat in awe. “I've never read about anything like this before.” Oh yeah, she definitely liked his dick. Now that it's something new and different, she'll never get enough of it, Harry thought with a smile on his face, in his mind, while “Little Harry” was doing Jumping Jacks of Joy. “So you could orgasm again?” Hermione's forehead creased in thought, despite her blush.

Harry reached his arms above his head, groaning at the relaxing feel of the stretch, and folded his arms behind his head. “Yep, I would last a lot longer, though, since I'd already came.”

“Have you ever done that when…” She gave a hand gesture to indicate what she meant.

“When masturbating,” Harry supplied. He grinned at her innocence, even after having gone down on him. “A few times, when I have a lot of Private Fantasy Time.”

She nodded, a slight smile on her face, which Harry figured was for the name he had given his masturbation time. “Do you usually last as long as you did?” she asked looking up at him. “Or was that just because it me and not you?”

“Eh, it depends,” Harry answered, feeling rather smug that he was teaching Hermione something. Never mind that it was his body he was telling her about and he was just as clueless, if not more so, about her body. “Sometimes I just really want to get off and I have a quickie session, sometimes I want to make it last and go slower. I think Little Harry's stamina comes from that I masturbate a lot.”

“Mhm,” Hermione said, and Harry almost could see the gears in her head turning, processing and filing the information.

All the logical, non-sexual dirty talk and no action had made his penis go to sleep and Harry sat up to pull his boxers on. That seemed to break into Hermione's thoughts and she kissed his cheek. “Thank you,” she told him sincerely. “For letting me do that,” she added when he looked at her.

He laughed and pulled her into another hug. “Thank you, Hermione, for doing that, 'cause I don't mind at all. Trust me; you can do that anytime you want.”

She laughed and kissed him again before relaxing into his arms. Harry held her, breathing in her scent, reveling in her soft womanliness. It almost scared him how much he loved her, how much he needed her beside him. “I love you, Hermione” he said seriously, “for everything.”

Harry felt her smile against the skin of his chest and a tear fall. “I love you, too, Harry.” she raised her head and beamed at him, “Now do you want help with your essay?”

*~*~*

It was a day later before Harry had an opportunity to repay Hermione for what she did for him. Little Harry was still loving the memories of the event.

The two teens were home alone again. Harry's dentist appointment had gone just fine and dandy (they did tell him to floss more, though) and Robert had just dropped him off at home and returned to his office. The dentist had been nothing to worry about, for a cleaning, at least. Dudley was such a wimp.

Harry walked into Hermione's bedroom to ask if she was hungry and wanted lunch and saw her at her computer. The door was open so Harry saw no reason to knock, and paused for a moment to watch her being studious Hermione.

It took him a second to realize something very strange was going on. Hermione was staring intently at the computer screen like when she read, and there was some text so Harry figured she was reading. She was also nibbling on her lower lip, pressing her legs together and squirming in her chair. Intrigued, Harry took a few steps closer. Hermione didn't even notice, that's how focused on the screen she was. To him, she looked distinctly aroused.

SexInfo101.com, Harry read at the top of the screen. Interested further he stepped quietly behind her to see what was so enticing to Hermione. He smiled when he saw the giant picture on the screen; he wasn't the only horned up teenager in the house.

“I don't think sex positions are Hogwarts-approved,” he said aloud, commenting on the Deck Chair position on the screen, making Hermione jump in fright.

“Harry!” she gasped. “I was just, um, just…browsing?” she tried. Harry laughed and looked closer at the screen.

There were 3D animated positions; that was very interesting. Reading the description, and looking at the animated illustration, he clicked the back button to see a few of the other positions Hermione had viewed, Delight, Drill, and Victory, and read those, as well. He could see why Hermione was squirmy; he was getting warm and aroused imagining him and Hermione trying these. The animations were pretty realistic, too.

Harry looked from the screen to Hermione; she looked embarrassed and anxious, and Harry decided he was going to do something he'd been wanting for a while to make her feel better and reassure her at the same time.

Standing in front of her, Harry wrapped his arms around Hermione and pulled her to his chest. She stiffened at first, for reasons she would never know, before sinking into his embrace. He tilted her chin and kissed her, and her breath caught in her throat.

It was always a thrill kissing Harry; he was so passionate and seemed to know exactly what kind of kiss to give for every moment. Hermione loved the way he decided to reassure her for this sex position thing. It was a little embarrassing, but she had questions and this site had virtually all the answers. She needed to know, if only to satisfy her own curiosity, but also so she could tell Harry. Harry needed to know, too. Maybe she should let him explore the site on his own…

Suddenly Harry scooped Hermione in his arms and set her on her own bed and kneeled beside it. What was he doing? The door swung shut by itself and Hermione gave Harry a mock glare. Really, must he show off with his wandless magic?

He leaned over and pressed his lips to hers again. When they parted, he said huskily with a grin, “Time for me to repay you.” Harry started to lift her shirt, his fingers brushing her skin and giving her goose bumps, then paused. “Do you trust me?” he asked her very seriously.

“With my life,” she breathed.

“What about your body?”

Hermione pulled his face to hers and kissed him hard and long. “With my life, mind, body and soul,” she told him softly, removing his glasses. He was near-sighted, he would see just fine.

Harry smiled and kissed her nose. Raising her arms, he pulled the tank top over her head and stared in astonishment at her bare chest. Hermione didn't always wear a bra around the house. They were uncomfortable and restricting and gravity wouldn't affect her too much in the long run.

Harry leaned her back so she was lying completely on the bed and kissed her. “You're beautiful,” he whispered and her heart swelled.

His hand tentatively reached from her breast. Poor, Harry, Hermione thought, he's so nervous. Her heart swelled for him again; it was her turn to reassure him. She took his hand in hers, kissed the palm and placed it over her chest. “I trust you,” she told him.

Harry kissed her again while massaging her breast and she moaned into his mouth. His hands were so strong and firm, yet gentle as if afraid of hurting her. Harry kissed down her neck and then his mouth was on her nipple and she gasped. She ran her hands through his hair as he lavished attention on her body.

Lost as Hermione was in the sensations of Harry's hand and tongue on her breasts, she didn't realize he had somehow removed the rest of her clothes. Wandless magic? she wondered, but wasn't concerned with the answer. All that mattered to her was Harry and Harry's hands and Harry's mouth and all the beautiful things they could do to her.

And then he was kissing down her body, his lips tickling her stomach and when he reached her hip, he spread her legs. Oh, he's going to… Hermione's mind trailed off as Harry's fingers touched her there, stroking along the outside and she could feel how wet she was, could feel it soaking his finger. His finger bumped her sensitive nub and she gasped and jerked suddenly and she saw Harry smile. When he slipped inside her womanhood and began to move his fingers against the roof of her passage, she cried out and pressed into him, “Ah! Harry!”

Harry's fingers continued their dance inside her as he kissed the inside of her thigh. Had it felt this good for him? she wondered as her brain tried to keep up with all the sensations and pleasure she was feeling. Her brain went into sensation overload when she felt his tongue replace his fingers and touch her, felt him lick slowly up and dipping his tongue deep into her. Her hands dove into his hair again, encouraging him.

That's what he meant by repay, she thought vaguely as his tongue now found her clit and her hips bucked. She just knew he was grinning when he did it again and again to the same squirming reaction. “What's this position called, Hermione?” Harry asked while kissing her thighs.

Hermione's hazing brain somehow registered the question and found the answer. “Spread…Eagle…” she panted.

Hermione twist and writhed under his ministrations. Just when she thought she couldn't take much more, Harry's fingers were inside her moving and hitting just the right spot and his tongue was paying full attention to her clit.

“Harry! Harry!” she screamed over and over, and one final incoherent shout as she bucked and wriggle and twisted and thrash and felt her body literally explode in pleasure and warmth and happiness.

Hermione panted heavily, her heart racing. “So,” she began in between breaths when she had calmed some, “that's…an orgasm.”

Harry crawled up to lay beside her on the bed. “You've never… Not even on your own?”

She blushed and, rolling on her side to face him, shook her head. “Never. I mean, I've…started, but I always stopped before…finishing. Maybe now I'll finish…” she mused to herself.

He grinned and kissed her forehead. “I'm glad I was your first.”

“Was I your first… the first…to give you…an orgasm,” Hermione asked shyly, in almost a whisper.

“No,” Harry answered, “my hand was.” He grinned at her. “You were the first person, though,” he added.

“Brat,” she told him, slapping his arm and he kissed her forehead again.

“Why were you looking that stuff up?” Harry asked softly, running a finger idly up and down her side.

Hermione cheeks flushed slightly, but she answered. “Almost every time we kiss I can feel you and after seeing you…” she blushed beautifully at what she was alluding to, “I've had these physical urges…down there. I feel physically ready and I've been emotionally ready for ages. I was just curious and wanted to know some more before I talked to you about it.”

Harry got an exaggeratedly smug look on his face. “It makes me very proud to inform you that half the time when I kiss you, I am not even partially aroused.”

“Are you saying…?” Hermione's voice trailed off as comprehension dawned on her.

“Yes, ma'am,” Harry grinned proudly, “my relaxed package is naturally protruding that way. I have to be careful when I buy trousers and shorts. So,” he said, turning on his side toward her, “did you find anything interesting and useful?”

“Yes, your penis is above average in size. Well above average. Length and width.”

“Well, you have well above average boob size,” he countered and she laughed. She kissed him for being sweet, her tongue touching his, and Hermione felt Harry's excitement at the fact that she was tasting herself.

“I like your penis,” she told him seriously but with a coy smile.

Harry hummed deep in his throat; she knew it made him feel all manly and indestructible when she told him things like that. “I love your boobs,” he told her with a smile and Hermione couldn't help but grin back. She knew Harry loved and respected her mind, but to hear him say he loved her body made her feel like a woman, plain and simple. Like a cherished woman, she thought as she hugged him, her head tucked under his chin.

“Even though they're small,” she teased. Her breasts weren't small, about a C cup, but they weren't large either. She always felt they should be larger for some reason, but that was probably just society's influence on her self esteem.

“Oh, no, sweets, they're not small at all,” Harry told her. He cupped one of her bare breast, running his thumb over her nipple as he did so. “See, they were made perfectly to fit in my hands. That's how we know we're meant to be,” he told her in such a sincere and childlike tone, Hermione couldn't decide if she wanted to laugh or cry. Her mind settled for both, and tears trailed slowly down her cheeks as she giggled and hugged Harry for all she was worth, kissing every bit of his skin near her.

*~*~*

The next day, Hermione walked up to Harry where he was reading Quidditch Weekly on the couch and said, quite suddenly, “We need a new name for your penis.”

Harry jerk, frowned and looked at her. She was utterly serious.

“`Little Harry' just doesn't fit it,” she explained. “He's not really little.”

Harry nodded his head. It was true. Hermione had looked it up on several websites and would know. It had been fun getting exact measurements, too, he remembered grinning. At eight and one quarter inches long and six inches around, Harry Potter had a large penis.

What could the phrase for his penis be then? “Long and thick is a double trick?” “Long and thick, twice the trick?” “More pleasured chick?” Eh, Harry would never have to really tell anyone; the only person who mattered already knew.

He set his magazine aside and pulled Hermione over the arm of the sofa into his lap and kissed her a moment before asking, “What did you have in mind?”

“Well, I like `Mr. Incredible', like the cartoon superhero from Pixar, because he's big and strong and he's,” she gave a pointed look toward Harry's crotch, “big and strong.” Such simple logic, he couldn't help but smile and kiss her again.

“If you want to call him Mr. Incredible, I have no arguments,” he told her and kissed her again. “You wanna see just how big and strong Mr. Incredible can be?” Harry asked with a smirk, rubbing against her slightly.

“Mm, as much as I'd love to taste you and have you taste me, we can't. My parents will be home soon,” she added when he pouted.

“I can still get a kiss, right?”

“Yes, you may,” she answered, her hands going to his cheeks and bringing his lips to meet hers.

The front door open and Hermione's parents came in. They were talking about something and were very focused on it. Harry wondered if they would notice if he and Hermione were actually doing something naked.

As if thinking “Hermione” and “naked” in the same sentence, Robert attentions were drawn to them. “Hey, kids,” he said setting his briefcase down, “what are you up to?”

“I was reading and Hermione sat on me,” Harry told him, sounding almost obnoxious.

“He was only reading sports magazine, Dad,” Hermione retorted, sounding equally childish, but she was grinning like Harry.

“Now, kids, play nice,” Helen said, going through the post, “or no dessert after dinner.” She dropped the letters on the wall table. “I think we should just cancel, Robert,” she said to her husband, who made a distinct unhappy face.

“Cancel what, Mum?” Hermione asked, moving to sit beside Harry instead of on.

“Well, at the beginning of the year, your father and I booked a week-long vacation for our anniversary next week, thinking you'd be gone somewhere by then,” Helen explained to Hermione. “Only you're not, and Harry's here, too.”

“Sorry, ma'am,” Harry said, but he was sure everyone ignored him.

“We'll lose so much money if we cancel, Helen,” Robert was saying. “They're big kids; what's the worst that could happen?”

Helen arched an eyebrow and looked pointedly at Harry and Hermione on the couch. Feeling rather on the spot and that it would be polite to leave the Grangers to their discussion, Harry excused himself to his guest room. Hermione followed but sat at the top of the stairs to listen. Harry battled inwardly for a moment before joining her. The voices were hushed but they could here every word.

“They're good kids, Helen, they won't get into trouble.”

“I know they're good, but they're dating now; that's what worries me.”

“Honey, we've raised Hermione the best we could. She's a brilliant young lady, all thanks to you,” Nice application of flattery, thought Harry, “and we can trust her. And Harry is a fine young man.”

“So you're fine leaving a seventeen-year-old couple home alone for a week?”

“To be honest, it scares me shitless, but they're responsible, young, well-behaved adults. Plus that have that little magical advantage. And I trust them to make the right decisions. In two weeks they'll be hundreds of miles away at school where we can't do anything to stop anything from happening.”

They heard Helen sigh. “But what if they give into their hormones?” Her voice was so soft Harry had to strain to hear.

“Then we'll have to trust that they'll take the right precautions. If they're thinking about it, sweetie, it's going to happen whether we stay or go, here or at Hogwarts. So why lose all that money I put down on the trip? For you, all for you, so you can have the best anniversary ever.” The last was added hastily, so Harry assumed Helen glared at Robert.

There was a long pause, then, “I suppose you're right, Bobby-Boy; we'll go. But you better lay down the law before we leave.”

“Trust me, baby, I will.” Harry could see, not literally, but in his mind's eye, a hug between the dentists. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. You better make this the best anniversary ever, mister.”

Robert laughed. “Oh, I will, you can bet on that, babe. Should we call the kids and tell them?”

“Nah, we'll tell them in the morning.” The voices were getting clearer and Hermione stood quickly, Harry following. “Besides, they're probably sitting at the top of the stairs listening.”

*~*~*

And it is now officially NC-17. Yeah, baby!

And very, very long, but I had to set up the next chapter.

And I doubt many are complaining =)

I always loved the phrase “Bob's your uncle”. It's so fun and funny =)

The comfort and trust thing about masturbation is true, I promise ;)

A friend of mine, a shorter stockier, mountain climber guy (who was extremely attractive), actually told me the little saying, “long and thin, too far in; short and thick, does the trick”

Crickey! Crocodile Hunter! I love Steve Irwin; he made me feel what I do with reptiles was safe and sane =) RIP, man.

SexInfo101.com is a brilliant website that can answer pretty much every question imaginable and send your mind to work ;) But, please, use responsibly.

I don't always wear a bra, if anyone was curious why I wrote that, lol Hell the first thing I do when I get home is unhook my bra. I also have similar feelings about my breasts needing to be larger, as I'm sure other women do, as well, from pressures of society. Like those damn singles' websites advertisements! Gah! Aggravation!

I named my ex-ish man's penis Mr. Incredible. And it was ;) He also had the same…gift…Harry does. There's that bit of There's that bit of inspiration! Lol see, thing is, I totally, TOTALLY know who this is.

Challenge Requirements

Harry stay at Hermione's house: CHECK

Harry and Hermione go to the beach: CHECK

Hermione catches Harry wanking: CHECK

Hermione caught researching sex positions: CHECK

And more to come… =D more to COME! Puh-duh-dunk! Lol

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8. Hide-and-Seek

Chapter 8

Hide-and-Seek

With a kinky twist

AN

1) So, when reading chap 7, my wonderful beta Libby commented (just after the “doctor” comment paragraph, if anyone is wondering) that she thought this was the most NC-17 part I've ever written. From the comments I received (thank you, btw =]), many of you agreed. So thank you, I think… lol

2) I guess there's only one… Michael Phelps on SNL! *swoon* lmao

3) Wow, three, and I thought there would only be one. Readers and Fans of One Pair, there is an AN at the end especially for you =)

4) FOUR! Yes, I know I missed my usually upload day, but honestly, this is the first substantial amount of time I've spent online since I got the chapter back from my beta, who, btw, is incredible. So, a warning, dear readers, uploads will most likely have larger gaps them. School is demanding.

*~*~*

The next morning at breakfast, the two dentists informed Harry and Hermione they were indeed taking the trip for their anniversary.

“And there will be absolutely no misbehaving while we're gone,” Robert said in his most stern, no-nonsense, father voice. It made Harry want to behave forever.

“Can we misbehave when you get back, Daddy?” Hermione asked sweetly with a cheeky grin.

“Smart aleck,” Robert muttered.

“She gets it from you, darling,” his wife told him, patting his cheek before sitting down.

“So where are you going, Mum?”

“Greece,” Helen answered, looking dreamy and excited, “we're leaving tomorrow evening and we'll be back the Friday before you leave for Hogwarts.”

“Your mother and I will go food shopping for the week for you and Harry,” Hermione's father put it, “and we'll bring home some take-out for dinner. Tomorrow we'll leave work early to have dinner together before we take a cab to the airport.”

“We could always apparate you to Greece if you want,” Harry offered with a smile.

“No, thank you, Harry,” Robert said stiffly.

“Oh, come on, Dad!” Hermione beamed excitedly. “We've both aced our exam. It'll be fun and you'll save money on the plane ticket.”

“It's fine, sweetheart,” Helen smiled. “Thank you for the offer, but we already have the tickets and your father likes the peanuts.”

Robert glanced at his watch and drained the last of his coffee. “We better be leaving,” he said to his wife. He kissed Hermione's head, “Be good today, kiddo.”

“I'm always good, Dad,” she smiled at him, and then smirked a little at Harry. “Tell Harry to behave.”

Robert kissed the top of Harry's head. “Be good today, kiddo,” he told him in the same tone he had used with Hermione. Harry just laughed along with Hermione and Helen.

The dentists left for the office, Harry glanced at Hermione. “It's not very nice to tease me in front of your dad, 'Mione,” he told her, but he was smiling.

“I could say the same to you, Harry,” she retaliated. She stared at him intently with dark eyes, nibbling her lower lip. She had learned very quickly what could turn Harry from innocent boy wizard to testosterone-filled sex fiend faster than a speeding bullet. He stared back at her just as intimately; Hermione knew exactly what she was doing and where it would lead, so two could play at this game.

Very slowly and deliberately and still holding Harry's gaze, Hermione licked her lips. Ooh… Glancing down shyly, innocently and purposefully (witch was a genius of seduction now), she arched her back. Not in an extremely seductive, drawing-attention-to-my-chest arch, just simply sitting up straight. It did the trick, though.

She won, Harry thought. He lunged from his chair to grab her just as Hermione jumped to run from him; she would know whatever he was thinking. A chase would be fun, though.

Hermione ran from the kitchen to the living room and up the stairs with Harry right on her heels. She headed for Harry's room and sprawled on the bed, grinning and panting.

“Bad move, Granger,” Harry said in a low husky voice. His eyes were drawn to her chest as she breathed in and out. He wanted to see her breasts again, touch them, feel them. “You never run up stairs when you're being chased.” He wanted to taste her again.

“I got news for you, Potter,” Hermione told him, smiling devilishly as he began to crawl on the bed to her.

“And what's that?” Harry hovered over her, his hands and knees on either side of her body. There was no way she was getting away from him.

As his lips drew closer to hers, she whispered, “I'm a witch,” and vanished with a loud clap.

Harry gasped. “The witch,” he muttered and flung himself off the bed. Now it was a game of Hide-and-Seek… Harry smiled, just as fun and more exciting.

Harry looked in Hermione's room, and didn't find her. He headed for the master bedroom, but stopped before reaching the door and thought better of it. It was like the Grangers marriage sanctuary; Harry couldn't go in there! Hopefully Hermione wasn't hiding in that room…

Tiptoeing down the stairs, Harry peeked around the living room and fancy dining room. It became obvious that Hermione was not obvious and he would actually have to look to find her.

Harry grinned. More challenge, more exciting, more fun.

Hermione lay under the coffee table, listening to Harry tiptoe around that downstairs and wondering how long it would be until he found her. Stretched out under the low table in the living room was not that difficult of a hiding place. Hermione was sure her feet must be showing.

Maybe he wasn't trying that hard.

It was at that moment that Harry's face filled her vision, grinning from ear to ear. “Gotcha,” he said wickedly.

Hermione smiled back, winked, then apparated away again, leaving her shirt behind. She wished she could see Harry's face when he saw her shirt and realized that she, Hermione Granger, perfectionist of all spells, charms, potions and miscellaneous crafts, would not leave it by mistake. Hopefully he would get the idea.

Now she sat waiting in the pantry, curled up on the bottom shelf. Thankfully it was more or less empty today and Hermione didn't drop in on tons of canned goods and cereal boxes. She had left her shirt instead of her shoes or something so it would be crystal clear to Harry what she was playing out and what she had in mind.

How long before Harry would find her? Maybe she would choose more noticeable hiding places from now on…

Hermione shifted her weight and bumped the door a little. If this had been a real game of Hide and Seek and not the kinky version they had made, she would have been terrified at the noise. In this game, their game, the faster Harry found her, the faster they could move onto the naked fun. She was getting wet just thinking about it.

A moment after the small sound had been made, the door opened and Harry grinned at her. And he was shirtless, a very nice sight. Hermione winked again and disappeared, leaving her shoes behind this time.

And so the game went on, Hermione hiding, Harry finding and Hermione disappearing again, each time leaving an article of clothing. After leaving her shoes in the pantry, Hermione apparated to the dining room where she left her socks, then her shorts in her bedroom.

From her bedroom she went and stretched atop the dining table, as seductive as she could. Clothed only in her bra and knickers aided the sexiness to the point where reclining pretty much made her look like a model.

Harry hurried into the room wearing only boxers and stopped in his tracks to take in the sight of her. Hermione smiled and bit her lower lip at the look of lust in his eyes. Glancing down, she blushed at realizing how excited he was getting. With another smile, Hermione disapparated to the living room sofa, now clad only in her knickers.

Hermione leaned on the couch, waiting for Harry; he would have heard the pop of her reappearance in the living room. Instead of walking in, however, Harry suddenly materialized from nowhere hovering over her.

His eyes trailed down her body and returned to meet her gaze. “You've been a very naughty girl, Miss Granger.” His voice was husky and he pressed his hips into hers. They both gave soft moans at the contact.

Reaching down, Hermione pulled her last remaining article of clothing off her body. Harry watched as she held them up and dropped them on the floor. She pressed her lips to his in a brief kiss, a promise of what would come. “Find me once more.” With that, she disappeared.

Her body dropped a few inches onto her bed. Harry, getting her all riled up, made it hard for her to focus and she apparated in six inches above her bed.

Harry walked past her room, stark naked with a raging erection, and Hermione frowned as he continued down the hall. A second later, he doubled back and stood in her doorway. Hermione bit her lip as she stared at him; he was so unbelievably attractive and sexy and the need to feel him, to touch him burned deep inside her.

He crossed the room to her and knelt at the edge of the bed at her feet. His hands slid up her legs to her knees, when suddenly he pulled her to him. Hermione felt a rush of excitement and adrenaline at the more dominating Harry.

Harry was now kneeling between Hermione's spread legs as he stared into her eyes. “You caught me,” she said to Harry, feeling decidedly wicked, “now what are you going to do with me?”

Harry growled, actually growled, before crashing his lips to hers. Her hands buried into his hair as his roamed her back and body. Hermione was gasping when Harry's mouth left hers to trail down her neck. “You have no idea,” he mumbled in between kisses, “how much I want you.”

“Oh, Harry…” she moaned at the pleasure of his tongue on her nipple. His hand cupped and caressed her other breast and she arched into him. Fingers from his other hand slid into her and she gasped, the sensation of his fingers filling her.

How would it feel when they made love? With his penis stretching her instead of his fingers?

Harry was rather…large in that area. Hermione had been amazed she had been able to…take as much of Harry as she had the other day.

Her train of thought was lost as Harry's lips and tongue left her right breast and pressed to her center, his tongue and fingers finding a perfect rhythm. She cried out in surprised pleasure and fell back on the bed.

“Oh, Harry!” she cried over and over, her hands threading in his hair. He was even better than last time.

Oh, how she loved him, loved him, loved him, loved him! For everything, from how he could arouse her with just a look or touch or thought to how he made her feel emotionally and physically. He had learned her body so fast. She supposed she had, too, but Hermione had been studying everything about Harry since the day they had met. Partially because she had to know, partially to help him someday, but mostly because she loved him.

Hermione gasped and bucked against Harry. She needed him, needed to taste him. Her hands were still in his hair and she pulled him to her face. He moaned as she kissed him deeply and knew why; it excited her to taste herself on him. It didn't seem gross or wrong or anything. This was Harry, her Harry.

After some tugging and strange naked wrestling while kissing - probably why it took a few minutes - Harry was finally laid stretched across the bed on his side, and Hermione had very easy access to his very lovely penis. She had found a new favorite toy, and this one interacted with her.

She grasped his length firmly and gave short quick jerks. Harry gasped and pulled his mouth from hers, moaning her name. Oh she loved hearing him say her name that way, she felt so womanly.

Hermione rotated until she was staring face to face with Harry's very impressive manhood. She softly trailed her fingertip along the underside while her tongue followed opposite. Harry groaned as she licked slowly around the head, her hand stroking leisurely.

When Hermione did this to Harry the first time, when she found him touching himself (quite flattering that had been), she didn't realize how much she would enjoy it. Did that make her a slag?

No, she thought, I could only do this to Harry. Only Harry, ever.

She stroked his thick length with her mouth and hand, delighting in the soft moans and groans and gasps of her name.

Hermione loved that Harry trusted her enough to do this, loved how comfortable they were together, clothed and naked.

Hermione's thoughts were pulled again from traits she loved about Harry and was reminded of one more reason when his hands pulled her leg over his shoulder and his tongue touched her again. She moaned at the feel of his warm tongue on her clit, running along her, dipping inside. She moaned with Harry's penis still in her mouth, the vibrations running down the shaft and making him groan and twitch.

Rolling onto his back, Harry pulled Hermione on top of him and his hands were everywhere of her body, running up her legs, over her bum, along her back. Her hips pressed into him as his tongue worked on her and she groaned and very enthusiastically continued sucking, licking, and stroking him.

This is bloody brilliant! Her mind screamed, the pleasure building. The pleasure of him touching her, of her touching him. Whoever thought of this position is genius!

The 69 positions on SexInfo101.com had intrigued and aroused her. Thinking about going down on Harry while he was doing the same to her (almost), even before he had actually done it, had sent her imagination off and running.

It was better than she had dreamt. His tongue dove into her, his lips kissed her clit, his tongue caressed it. His hands moved from roaming her legs and butt to her breasts and seemed quite content to stay. Her back arched her breasts into his hands as Hermione pulled back and swirled her tongue around the smooth round head of Harry's beautiful dick.

She giggled, feeling naughty for thinking such a naughty word (dick, she giggled around a mouthful again). Hermione, still feeling mischievous - and because - moved a hand to cup and gently massage Harry's balls. She did like how they were clean shaven.

Harry gave a small thrust with his hips as he moaned her name against her thigh, and she felt and tasted his orgasm. She eagerly enjoyed every bit of it and kept licking and stroking him, remembering Mr. Incredible's unique gift. She liked that he had climaxed first; now she could enjoy all the pleasure without worrying about forgetting Harry.

Hermione continued working on Harry's extra sensitive member and felt the vibrations of his deep groan rocketed through her clit and that was the metaphorical straw. She bucked against him as pleasure coursed through her entire being, only vaguely aware in the back of her mind that she might be hurting Harry, gasping his name. Her head fell on this thigh as her heartbeat slowed more or less to normal.

Harry kept gently kissing and caressing her as she kept gently stroking him. They continued their adventure and fun with this position for hours, both climaxing several times (multiple orgasms were amazing), until food and water became a dire necessity.

They lay sprawled in the bed regaining some composure and normal breathing patterns after their final orgasms, Hermione's eighth (or ninth, she lost count, maybe even tenth) and Harry's fourth (Hermione was still trying to wrap her mind around that concept).

“I'm famished,” Harry said.

“Hmm, and thirsty,” Hermione agreed.

“I don't want to get up.”

“My legs are jelly, thanks to someone,” she commented, poking Harry in the side.

He grinned. “You weren't complaining when you were riding my face screaming `Yes, Harry! YES! More, more, lick me, Harry!'”

Hermione blushed; she hadn't said that, had she? “You make me lose myself,” she said in defense. She snuggled up against him, her body molding perfectly to his, and looked up at him with big eyes. “I'm hungry, Harry.”

“Oh, 'Mione, you're going to drive me crazy with that look!”

“What look?” she asked innocently.

Harry gave her a slight glare, then frowned in thought. “Do we have pizza? I really want pizza right now.”

And so they ate pizza for lunch. Having burned as many calories as they did, coupled with their teenage metabolisms, they could have eaten pure lard and it wouldn't have mattered.

Harry and Hermione spent the rest of the day lounging around the house naked (with all the blinds closed, of course), reading or watching TV, kissing and occasionally fooling around. Harry was insatiable it seemed, and was pulling her around with him. Not that she minded at all, as she lay on the couch and his fingers worked her clit into an orgasmic frenzy, his green eyes staring into hers the entire time.

At five, her alarm, signifying her parents were getting off work, rang out in the house and Harry and Hermione went around collecting all their clothes and getting dressed. Getting dressed had been unusually long and difficult, with all the touching and caressing and kissing they couldn't help but do. And Harry had taken a liking to pinching Hermione's bum when she walked in front of him, which only left her the choice of pinching his when she followed him.

Eventually, though, they were fully clothed and relaxing in the living room, looking the exact picture of an abstinent couple. Hermione laid her head in Harry's lap while they watched an American sitcom called “Two and a Half Men” and waited for her parents and dinner.

Harry made her lay on a pillow in his lap, though. “Wouldn't want your parents to walk in on anything naked and screaming, would we?”

Her parents came home with bags of groceries (which Harry brought in all by himself, the big strong man) and take-out Chinese food. The four talked over dinner about the trip to Greece and what the Grangers planned to do and all sorts of things.

Hermione's parents hadn't made a dent in their packing, so they did that while Harry and Hermione watched movies and occasionally helped with the packing. “Which suit should I bring, dear?” “Can you bring us some plastic bags, Hermione, sweetheart?” and so on.

The next day passed much the same as the previous for Harry and Hermione, though with not as many orgasms; her parents were coming home early after all. The day went by fast and soon they were out at dinner, still talking about the trip to Greece and Hogwarts coming up and what not.

The cab to the airport arrived ten minutes after the Grangers called for it and they loaded all their luggage and gave last minute instructions before leaving. “Here's some money and we hid some in the kitchen in case you want to order in or eat out.” “Don't eat only junk, kids; remember your vegetables, please.” “Don't do anything stupid.” That warning came with a significant look. “And, please, don't get caught doing anything…unusual. We really don't want to come back early for a witch-burning or Ministry hearing.” Her father smiled to show it was a joke, but it held some important and very real advice. With a Ministry hearing, Hermione might get expelled from school.

Her mother and father hugged and kissed her and her mother hugged and kissed Harry before climbing in the cab. Her father shook Harry's hand, clapped his other hand on Harry's shoulder and said, with a serious look in his eyes, “Keep her safe, son.”

“I promise, sir.” The same solemn look in Harry's gaze.

Harry and Hermione waved at the cab as it drove down the road calling the usual farewells of “Have a safe trip” and “Have fun.” And then her parents were gone to the airport, gone to Greece for a week, and she and Harry were left alone.

Whatever will they do with themselves?

*~*~*

My dad always called me kiddo when I was young, still does actually, and now I call kids at work and my friend's younger siblings kiddo. I'm not sure if it's a very European term tho

I'm not entire sure if a person can apparate away minus an article of clothing or what now (seems like they could, just not concentrate on it), but I call creative license.

Ten orgasms in one session isn't terribly unrealistic, if the guy knows how to work it (speaking from experience).

I have a fast metabolism; I love it. Random Rosie Fact.

I love Two and a Half Men; it's such a brilliant combination of hilarity and political incorrectness =) I would never let my children watch it, tho; not until they can legally vote, at least.

For those of you who read One Pair and the Author's Note at the end of the epilogue, I am please to tell you that I have chosen a pseudonym (with the help of you readers) and am some-what steadily working on my own unique, individual story (which I realized could be altered to H/Hr fanfiction fairly easily =]). Information will be posted in my profile as it is available (pseudonym, publication, etc.) and I will eventually be creating a myspace account for my alter ego =)

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9. Carbo-Load

Chapter 9

Carbo-Load

Thank you for all the reviews. Yes, what will Harry and Hermione do? My Beta: Play scrabble? Chess? Perhaps pin the tail on the donkey?

I had wanted to get to the particular scene (you'll know which one, trust me ;)) in chapter eight, but it was getting long and I didn't want to rush. So I postponed it and I hope it will be worth it ;)

Thank you, Jacqueline, for covering as beta

I have (you decide whether that emphasis is enthusiasm or obligation) to dedicate this chapter to Ryan, because much of the scenes in this chapter were inspired by a very incredible…experience I had with him (the silly, almost arrogant boy that he is) on MSN Messenger. And we'll leave it at that.

Sorry this took longer than usual to get posted. My beta and I both got swamped by school, which has stolen our lives. Unfortunate, yes. Expect a break just as long as this until the next chapter. Sorry, but things get crazy mid-semester

CSUN has stolen my money, life, and soul.

Last chapter was the least reviewed, 25 reviews out of over 4400 hits. Strange… Did school steal your lives, too??

*~*~*

The night Hermione's parents left for their anniversary trip, she and Harry went to bed in their own rooms, mostly out of habit. Hermione woke a little later, though, and snuck into Harry's room.

“Freeze or you'll wake up in a week,” Harry's voice, harsh with the threat, said in the dark room.

“Harry, it's me, Hermione.” Blasted wizard, blasted Moody with that “constant vigilance”. She should have known Harry would be on guard still, after so many years of looking over his shoulder.

“Prove it.”

“Your patronus is a stag, mine is an otter.” Deciding to tease him a little, she added, “And Mr. Incredible loves what I can do to him.”

She heard Harry clear his throat before asking, “What are you doing in here?” The lights came on suddenly and she blinked at the brightness. Harry was sitting in bed, his wand now resting on the nightstand. Hermione had no doubt it was just pointed right at her.

“I wanted to cuddle,” she said. She was trying to look cute and irresistible, and judging from Harry's smile and how he pulled the covers back on the other side of the bed, she succeeded. Hermione slid under the blankets and stretched out next to Harry as he leaned on his elbow over her. “I want to wake up with you in the morning,” she added softly, looking up into his green eyes. His gaze was so intense with emotion sometimes, like now, Hermione had to try to not blush and look away.

He nodded, staring intently at her. “You can stay as long as you want,” he told her. He glanced away before saying, “I was, uh, in the middle of something, though.”

The mischievous feeling instantly captured her. “What were you in the middle of?” she asked with a small smile.

Harry cleared his throat again. “It's, uh, personal,” he answered.

Her hand touched his cheek turning his face slightly to look at her. “Can I watch?” she asked seriously. Her voice had dropped in pitch, sounded huskier, and she could see Harry's breath quicken.

Harry stared at her for several second before finally answering, “If you want.” His voice was low and deep, and sounded rough. It sent a thrill through her.

He rolled onto his back and Hermione moved to rest her head on his shoulder as he kicked the blankets off his legs. Harry was naked under the sheets and Hermione decided that's how she liked him in bed. His penis stood tall and firm, and excitement and arousal filled Hermione when she saw. It really was perfect.

Harry's hand began to stroke his length, slowly and deliberately, seeming to savor the feel.

Hermione didn't realize how erotic it would be to watch Harry touch himself, watching his hand move up and down rhythmically. She pressed into him and he groaned slightly. His breathing increased with the pace of his hand and she watched mesmerized and aroused as his hand circled the head of his penis then caressed the shaft, moving in a blur.

Hermione touched a hand to her crotch, rubbing over her pyjama shorts, then finally slipping them off to slid her fingers along her skin and inside her. Harry groaned loudly when he saw her, murmuring words of encouragement to her.

She watched his hand and he watched hers as they pleasured themselves, panting and whispering the other's name. Hermione slid her fingers inside and rubbed herself the way Harry had and ran her fingers around her clit. Harry's free hand reached for hers and he gripped her hand, moaning her name softly, his hips giving shallow thrusts into his hand.

Oh, but it was hot.

Seeing each other masturbate, getting aroused by watching, getting off to watching. Hermione's fingers moved faster, dipping into her folds, circling her clit, matching Harry's hand pumping on his shaft.

It was too much for Hermione and her orgasm rocked her body with shudders as she gave a soft cry of “Harry!”

He followed seconds after, with a loud gasp of “'Mione,” and splattering over his stomach. His hand stroked a few more times before grabbing his wand and muttering, “Evanesco.”

Hermione kissed his cheek. “Thank you for showing me,” she whispered to him.

He smiled and held her gently as she pulled on her shorts. “Thank you,” he said. “Watching you was very…exciting.”

She grinned and Harry pulled a light blanket over them. Hermione snuggled more comfortably against Harry, who wrapped his arms around her and held her close. Together, they feel asleep in each other's arms, and it was most peaceful night either had ever had.

*~*~*

AN: No, not that scene ;)

*~*~*

The next morning (after taking care of Harry's morning wood with a blowjob that turned into a delicious session of 69), Hermione decided to take some initiative with Harry. He was such a good boy, such a shy gentleman; he wouldn't take the steps she wanted to take this week. Not without encouragement, at least. So, while Harry was in the bathroom, she moved a week's worth of clothes, a couple books she was reading, and her stuffed tiger from when she was a little girl into Harry's guest room

He did offer for her to stay as long as she wanted.

Hermione had big plans for her and Harry that night, big plans she wanted to surprise him with. She moved Hedwig's cage into her own room. The owl had been in the backyard since she got here but Hermione didn't want her to accidently intrude on anything. There were things that needed to be in the room for The Plan which she hid under the bed. Then she went on the computer to that brilliant website for some more tips, ideas, and a bit of assurance.

She was ready, oh was she ready, but could she do what she wanted for Harry confidently?

Hermione was acting very strange, Harry decided. She was very preoccupied and distracted and they had only fooled around three times. Three! And it was almost evening now. It was unheard of considering the past few days, and her parents weren't coming home.

Was she bored with him? Did he do something wrong?

Harry didn't think so. Hermione had even moved some of her clothes into his room for the week. If that didn't say “I still love you” he didn't know what would.

To make him more confused, Hermione was going all out making dinner. When he asked why, she had said, “Just to treat you special.” As if that made any more sense. She let him help, though, when he asked. He made the fruit salad, but she wouldn't let him do anything more than kiss her and cup her boob when he was done. She almost got snippy with him.

Harry decided to watch TV while she made dinner to avoid the temptation of touching her. When he went in the kitchen for a glass of water, he saw Hermione in a very nice simple summer dress. Maybe I'll put on a fresh shirt… he mused.

“Dinner will be ready soon,” she smiled at him, that special smile, his smile. She wouldn't give him that smile if she was mad at him and she definitely wouldn't make him dinner.

Harry went to his room and pulled a long sleeved black dress shirt from the wardrobe, one of the shirts the Grangers had bought him, and decided he might as well pull on clean jeans, as well. He washed up and tried vainly to comb his hair to submission before returning to the kitchen.

“Smells yummy,” Harry told Hermione and kissed her cheek.

She was starting to set the table and he offered to help. She told him to sit, though, while she brought the food to the table and she looked nervous while hovering the bowls and dishes over. Was she afraid he wouldn't like it? He was a teenage male; he'd eat virtually anything.

The plate of lasagna settled gently on the center of the table and Harry's mouth began to water. It smelled better in front of him, and looked delicious. There was also garlic bread and the fruit salad Harry had made.

Hermione's nerves were rubbing off on Harry. He glanced up at her shyly as she served a huge helping of lasagna to him. “You look very pretty, 'Mione,” he told her sounding almost bashful.

She smiled at him. “Thank you, Harry. I like that shirt on you.”

“You should, you picked it out,” he grinned.

As they ate, their nerves settled and they were the comfortable, natural best friends and now lovers Harry and Hermione again. Harry raved about how delicious the lasagna was (which it was; Harry was not lying or exaggerating) and made Hermione blush.

After the lasagna, bread, and fruit salad (Sure are a lot of carbs, Harry thought), Hermione brought out dessert: chocolate covered strawberries. That was an interesting experience; Hermione ate the strawberries in a very…imaginative way. The way her lips gripped and pulled at the sauce covered fruit sent Harry's blood boiling and mind flying to events this morning, and past days. He couldn't resist kissing her and pulling her into his lap to show her what she was doing to him.

Hermione smiled with a slight blush and returned his kiss, her tongue touching his and tasting of chocolate. “Let's take the rest of these to your room,” she murmured against his lips. She didn't wait for an answer; she picked up the half empty plate of deserts and sauntered from the kitchen.

Harry sat in the chair, mesmerized by her swaying hips as she walked away. She rounded up the staircase and winked at him before heading up to the second floor.

Harry sat stunned for another moment before practically flying up the stairs after her. Hermione was nowhere to be seen in the hallway so Harry headed straight for his guest room. The door was closed and when he opened it and stepped in, he stopped dead in his tracks, sure he was dreaming. All thoughts of chocolate covered strawberries were completely gone from his mind at the sight before him: Hermione in lingerie.

Some part of him wondered how she had changed so fast. But then, she was a witch. His witch, his very sexy witch.

Harry had seen Hermione naked several times and that was very arousing, but seeing her so close to naked, only hinting at all the delicious bits was so much more enticing and erotic.

Hermione looked unbelievable. Her long, taut muscles of her legs wrapped in her soft luscious skin looking more exquisite than ever, her bum arched toward him as she walked. Her body, her poise, her clothes, her, was inviting Harry to take her. Everything from the lacey black bra that hide nothing and somehow made her breasts look so full and delicious, to the lacey black boy-cut booty-cut whatever-cut panties that hide nothing and cut in to show off her lovely firm bottom, to the five-inch black heels with lace wrapping up her ankle that made her walk in a way that sent Harry's imagination, hormones and blood into overdrive, destination penis. His well above average penis. Insert smirk here.

Can you say Fuck-Me-Heels, some deep part of Harry's mind thought watching Hermione walk to the bed. “Adadkid aiwoie heajahs,” he mumbled incoherently. Hermione smiled at him over her shoulder. Apparently not.

Those blasted shoes made her looks so deliciously sexy and hot and sweet Merlin, why was he still standing across the room like dazed school boy?

While Harry was taking in the oh so appealing figure of Hermione, from the long slender legs to amazing ass to tone sexy gracefully arching back to beautiful perky handfuls of breast and every gorgeous bit of skin, hair and face in between, Hermione had sat on the bed and no longer looked like the seductress of moments before.

Now, she looked nervous and scared. Frowning slightly, Harry walked over and sat next to her on the bed.

Hermione smiled shyly at Harry; she felt so embarrassed. Who tries to seduce her boyfriend, starts to feel like a prostitute, then gets horribly self-conscious?

Apparently Hermione Jane Granger.

“Hi,” she said softly to Harry.

“Hey,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and rubbing her arm reassuringly. “You okay?” he asked.

She nodded. “I wanted to surprise you, Harry. Show you how much you mean to me, how special you are and how much I love you.”

Harry kissed her temple. “You don't have to do anything extra to show me that, sweetie.”

“I want to, Harry, because you are. I just didn't realize how nervous I would feel putting on this show for you,” she added, her voice quiet and self-conscious.

“Well, you do look very…sexy,” Harry told her with a shaky breath and she gave a small laugh, “but you always do, love. You don't have to do anything special. I love you.”

“Oh, Harry,” she whispered, and kissed him, a hand going to caress his cheek. She leaned back onto the bed, the pressure of her hand on his cheek and her lips on his encouraged Harry to fall with her.

He kissed her gently, leaning over her on an elbow, his hand caressing her cheek. “I love you,” he told her again and the sincerity in his voice made Hermione more positive than ever that she was ready, that they were ready.

“Show me, Harry,” she whispered, a smile spreading across her face as her arms wrapped around his neck. “Make love to me.”

He looked at her for a long moment, his eyes roaming her face. “Only if you're sure,” he finally said and Hermione felt a surge of love.

When she was reading Her First Time on SexInfo101.com for insight on her decision for her and Harry to lose their virginities tonight, she had mentally screamed yes in answer to the three questions: Do you trust this person? Do you see yourself in a long-term relationship with this person? Are you having sex for you or somebody else?

The last answer had been “Yes, and Harry”. And she knew Harry's answers were the same.

She laughed a little. “Look at me, Harry,” she told him with a grin. “I'm hardly dressed in an outfit that screams `take me!'” Her smile softened to compassion, but her eyes were as serious as her words. “I'm sure, Harry, that's why I did all this. Make love to me.” It wasn't a request or question she was asking; she was telling Harry she was ready to share this intimacy with him, that she was giving herself to him.

Harry pressed his lips to hers and sparks flew. Hermione lost herself in the fervor of Harry and would not have been surprised if sparks were really flying around their head, all the magic and love and passion between them.

The kiss ended for a moment and Harry rested his forehead on Hermione's. “Tonight,” he began in a deep voice that sent shivers through her body, “is all for you.” He pressed his lips to hers briefly. “I'm going to give you more pleasure than you can handle.”

“I'll hold you to that, Stud Man,” Hermione smiled, her fingers toying the hair on Harry's neck.

Harry kissed her tenderly, his hands gliding gently over her body. Everywhere he touched seared with desire. One hand trailed up her side and gazed her breast, sending a shiver through her, moving to her back.

“It unhooks in the front,” she told him. Though it might have been fun to see him confused, she thought.

He smiled at her and began kissing her neck. Hermione's hands ran over his back, in his hair, her body pressing against his, touching him everywhere she could. Harry's lips kissed her down her chest, along the swell of her breast as he unclasped her bra and the fabric fell away.

He kissed around her breast, making his way gradually to her nipple. When his lips touched the perky flesh, she gasped and arched her back. His tongue swirling around, his lips tugging lightly, felt more incredible than before. Harry's teasing, building suspense and tension had her so sensitive already, she shuddered in anticipant pleasure of what the rest of the night would be like.

His fingers fondled her other breast and nipple, caressing and when he pinched lightly, she jerked against him in surprise. Harry grinned and released her breast from his mouth to sit up. He kissed her mouth lightly, pulling away before she could deepen it, and slid the bra straps down her arms, tossing it somewhere in the corner.

Kneeling on the floor between her legs, he kissed her thighs, his fingers tracing the lines of her muscles and making her squirm. Hermione reached for him and kissed him hard, needing to touch him more, feel him around her.

He laid her on the bed again after a moment and his fingers slipped under the lacey fabric of her underwear and began to slide them down. “These need to go,” he said, pressing his lips to her stomach. Hermione closed her eyes; the contact was so close but so far. She needed this boy, this man, her Harry, so much in so many ways.

He slipped them carefully down her legs and over her very expensive heels. When she saw them in London, Hermione knew they would be perfect for tonight, for showing Harry how much he meant to her, for giving herself to him.

“These,” Harry said with a devilish grin, tracing the lace wrapping of the heels and looking over her body at her, his eyes full of lust and love, “can stay on.”

Hermione sat up and touched Harry's cheek. “First,” she said softly, “I want to undress you.” She gave him a timid smile.

Harry stayed kneeling upright between her thighs while she stayed seated on the bed. With her eyes locked on Harry's, a frock of black hair falling over his green eyes that held so much lust and love for her, Hermione gently removed his glasses from his face and set them safely aside. She pulled his shirt from his pants and undid the buttons slowly, one by one revealing Harry's white muscle shirt stretched over his broad chest and shoulders.

The shirt was pushed down his strong arms, the strong arms she loved to have wrapped around her. The undershirt stretched over his flat stomach. Harry had such a swimmer's physique, with broad shoulders, long arms, and narrow waist. It made him incredibly attractive.

Her hands moved down his sides to the hem of the t-shirt and he squirmed. Hermione smiled at how ticklish he was. His arms rose over his head when she pulled the muscle shirt off, tousling his hair even more. Her hands moved over his body over the trapezius, deltoids, pectorals, marveling in the strength and definition, how warm his skin felt under her hands.

It amazed her how much she loved him, that one person could feel so strongly for another. Sometimes she felt her heart would burst with emotion for him, that it would consume her.

Hermione ran her hands down Harry's tone obliques and abs, following his faint happy trail to the waist band of his jeans and stood, tugging him up with her. He had a small smirk on his face and she could just imagine the smart remarks going through his head. She pressed her lips to his in a quick, heated kiss, a promise of what to come, as she gently caressed his already hard length through his clothes. The kiss ended and she began to undo his belt and unbutton his trousers, still staring deep into his eyes.

Harry kicked off his sandals and let his pants fall before kicking them off, too. She before him, naked but for her heels and he stood before her in only his Quidditch boxers, this pair with Chasers throwing Quaffles through hoops scattered over the fabric. Hermione had bought Harry the complete Quidditch boxer set in Diagon Alley as a late birthday present. She smiled at how appropriately this pair fit the “scoring” metaphor.

Hermione sat on the bed again, pulling Harry forward to stand between her legs, and slowly tugged his boxers down his legs, freeing his erection. One hand held Harry's gorgeous manly hip while the other stroked his velvety hardness. It really is a beautiful penis, she admired loving the feel of the skin against her palm, loving how it stood tall and proud with desire for her.

Grabbing her wand from the bed, she tapped it just above his delicious dick, muttering “Infecundus”, then to her lower abdomen, saying “infelix”. The protection part complete, Hermione dropped her wand and could fully enjoy the most intimate part of Harry.

“I love your penis,” she murmured, watching it. It was so large and looked even bigger when she held it in her hand. She wondered if Harry liked the sight of that as much as she did.

She heard Harry laugh a little, the smile in his voice, “Thanks, I grew it myself.” He moved her hand away gently and kneeled in front of her again. “As much as I enjoy you touching me,” he said kissing her hands, “tonight is all for you.”

He kissed her gently, his hand behind her head as he laid her on the bed. He looked at her with such adoration, and said, “You're so beautiful,” with such sincerity, she couldn't speak. She could only look at him with watery eyes, and touched a hand to his cheek.

He kissed her forehead, he kissed her nose, he kissed her lips, he kissed down her neck slowly, tracing a path he already knew so well. While his lips continued their journey down and around her chest and stomach, Harry's fingertips slid down her side, following the curve of her waist to her hip, then trailed along her iliac crest to her center.

“I love this line,” he muttered against her skin, tracing one side of her hip bone with hand. “It's so sexy and leads right to the sweet spot. So sexy.” He pressed kisses to the arc of bone as he continued his lavishing of her body and continued to make Hermione squirm and wriggle beneath him. This slow pace was driving her mad but building up so much tension and anticipation.

Kneeling squarely between her legs, Harry's lips began kissing up her thigh, slowly, teasingly, up one side then the other. His tongue would trace designs on her skin as she squirmed and tried to encourage him to touch her there. There, where she wanted to be touched, where she needed him to touch her.

When Hermione thought she couldn't possibly wait any longer without exploding in frustration or hexing Harry into compliance, he wrapped his arms around her legs and placing them over his shoulders, very gently, very slowly began licking her. She was so effing wet, every touch was like an electric shock.

His tongue reached inside her and rubbed against that sensitive spot there, the circled and pressed into her clit and repeat. He flicked and circled and teased in that exasperatedly slow pace. She could feel her orgasm building, though, gradually, steadily.

She moaned as Harry continued his massage on her with his tongue and gasped when two of Harry's thick fingers slid into her, rubbing firmly and rhythmically against the spot that made her groan and writhe. She loved how it stretched it and couldn't wait to feel more than his fingers.

Her breath came in short gasps and pants and occasional interjections of “Harry!” and “Yes!” and moans of “Oh…” Her hands ran through his hair, clutched at his shoulders, encouraging him, telling him without words he was driving her wild.

Soon, far sooner than Hermione would have thought with Harry's slow pace, her body tensed, a scorching heat flooding her body. Her hands flew to grip the edge of the bed, her back arched, her legs quivered as she cried out Harry's name.

His tongue and fingers continued their work on her and Hermione twisted and thrashed as another orgasm ripped through her body and making her shudder and rock underneath him.

Hermione felt his hands and mouth leave her, felt the bed shift beside her as she lay panting, a sheen of sweat covering her. Harry's finger brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “I love how you look after an orgasm,” he whispered hoarsely. “Gorgeous.” His hand trailed down to her breast and began kneading it gently and she closed her eyes and moaned. “I love touching you, how responsive you are.” Harry kissed her neck again, his fingers toying with her nipple. “I love how you taste,” his breathe was warm against her ear as he talked. “I love how you scream my name,” he took her earlobe in his teeth, tugging gently, and she gasped.

He was working her up, arousing her again, slowly. His hands and lips skimmed her stomach and arms and legs, barely brushing the curls between her legs, avoiding the tender spots. Hermione moaned as the pleasure and tension from his hands began to build once more. She was ready, if she wasn't ready to take him now, when would she be? She felt even more excited at the thought.

Her hand reached down and wrapped around his hard member. Seeing it in her hand, how large it was, she wondered whether it would fit, then smiled at the irrational thought. Of course it would, and any pain would be more than worth it to feel all parts of Harry, inside and out. She wondered if she still had a hymen; there was that tree climbing incident when she was seven, and those flying lessons at Hogwarts first year.

“You need to be lubricated,” she said, hoping her smile looked seductive and not awkward. She pushed him onto his back then straddled his lower legs. She ran her hands over his thigh and her brown hair dangled and brushed his skin as she leaned over him. One hand held the base of his penis, stroking slowly and softly, and she quickly enveloped his long length in her mouth. She heard him gasp, felt him jerk slightly and loved that she could do that to him, loved that he let her.

Hermione loved the feel of him in her mouth as she slid up and down his length, her tongue skirting along the underside as she moved. She felt herself getting more aroused than she thought possible as she preformed her mouth's new found talent on Harry's incredible penis, thinking of how it would feel to have it inside her sex.

Harry's hand touched her cheek, gently pulled her from him. “That's enough, love,” he said in a husky voice. He rolled her onto her back and Hermione found she was lying in the middle of the bed with Harry settled between her legs, his erection pressed to her thigh. It made her moan with anticipation.

One hand toying with a strand of hair near her face, Harry slid the other down her body. Down the outside of her leg to the lace wrapping of her stiletto heels digging into the bed and back up, her body tingling with lust for him. His fingers caressed her vaginal lips gently, brushing her clit, then two slipped inside her again. Harry kissed her as he slowly probed her sex, his tongue matching the rhythm of his touch and Hermione arched and gasp and groan under him.

“Harry, please,” she moaned after only seconds, “I'm ready.”

His fingers left her and his lips met hers. “I love you,” he said in her ear. “Bite my shoulder if you need to.”

Hermione kissed his check, her arms wrapping around him and hold him close. She felt the head of his penis touch her and she gave an aroused shiver. Oh, how she wanted him!

He began to press into her slowly, easing his thick length in. She reveled in how he stretched her, how he wasn't hurting her, how there was nothing but pleasure. Then Harry was in, completely and utterly and Hermione had never felt so absolutely complete and whole.

He was groaning in her ear, she was gasping in his and they stayed connected like that, relishing in this new and glorious experience. Now, Hermione felt that she really belonged to Harry, that they were truly one.

There was no pain for her, no breaking or tearing like other women had; just the pure contentment and joy of being filled by the one she was in love with, who returned her love. It couldn't have been more perfect and she sighed with contentment of the moment.

“Harry…” she moaned and jolted her hips into his. She, and her body, wanted, needed, him to take her, to bring her to fulfillment, to fill her with his orgasm.

He hissed slightly then shifted his head to look into her eyes. His strong arms supported his weight above her and framed the side of her head. He looked down at her, eyes dark with desire and devotion. She saw the unasked question in his eyes and nodded, smiled. It was okay to move. Please move, Harry, her body was telling him. Please move and bring all the pleasures you imagine for me.

Harry pulled out of her slowly, and slid back in just as slowly, and they groaned together. His forehead fell gently on hers and they stared into each other's eyes. She could see his soul, could see everything his heart felt for her, and as he continued gliding in and out of her, the feelings of delightful ecstasy intensified. Her nails dug into his back, her legs wrapped around his waist and they both groaned at the new depth of penetration. Hermione had a vague thought in the back of her mind that her nails and heels might be hurting Harry, but he didn't seem to be complaining.

Their bodies found a rhythm together, dancing a slow waltz, and their eyes never wavered from the other's. Hermione was moaning and gasping loudly now, drowning out Harry's own groans, with every drive of his member.

His pace picked up slightly to a tango, Hermione meeting him thrust for thrust, and she felt a warm tingle beginning to spread throughout her body. Harry kissed along her neck, bit her earlobe gently, whispered, “I love you, you're beautiful,” and Hermione's body exploded. Her hips bucked hard against his, every muscle in her body clenching and tightening in the rush of pleasure, all the air left her body in her cry of “Har-Har-Harry!”

It was moments later, when her orgasm subsided and she could think clearly again, that Hermione realized Harry had not moved during her entire spasmodic climax. He had lain, holding her as she writhed under him. “Did you…?” she asked hesitantly. She would be disappointed if he had climaxed already; she wanted to feel him fill her.

It could an excuse to have another go.

As if they needed one… Ha!

“No, sweets,” he shook his head slightly against her neck. “Didn't want to risk it, though, with all your twitching and gripping and screaming.” He kissed her neck, sucked gently at the skin, and she could feel his smile. “I want this to last as long as possible,” he told her.

He began moving slowly again. Hermione felt so tender, so sensitive, after a few moments she felt like she would orgasm again. His tempo increased, sliding in and out in long thrusts and once more she was groaning and squirming as her body prickled then burst with euphoria. Harry's pace escalated more as she came. With a loud moan of her name, Hermione was filled his climax as well as his dick and it felt simply wonderful.

His eyes would be the death of her, Hermione decided, as Harry continued driving into her, with his eyes boring into hers and his momentum growing. Hermione would never know if she had two separate orgasms or one long continuous one as her moans merged with his in an opera of climatic octaves. With another grunt of her name, Harry stiffened in a second orgasm.

Hermione lay panting, Harry's head resting on her shoulder, their chests pressed together and his weight resting on her.

“Am I too heavy?” he mumbled into her hair.

Hermione tightened her arms around Harry's back. “It's a comforting weight.”

His lips pressed to her neck and lifted his head to look in her eyes. His lips touched hers and she felt a shock, a tingle, from the contact. “I love you,” he said. “You're incredible, you know that?”

She smiled at him, feeling mischievous. “You're incredible; he's incredible.” The emphasis on “he's” and the flexing of her inner muscles left no doubt whom she was referring to. He was still hard inside her, after two climaxes and several moments of rest. It amazed her.

Harry groaned and dropped his head to her shoulder again. “That feels amazing, love.” She did it again and was rewarded with another deep moan. “Don't start something you can't finish,” he told her with a mock glare.

“What makes you think I won't finish?” she said with a sly grin.

With that Harry rolled onto his back, still inside her, so she was now lying on his stomach. She gasped in pleasure and surprise at how deep he felt. She sat up and her gasp turned to a groan. It was unbelievable! She began to gently rock her hips experimentally, feeling his member pressed against her inside, she lifted herself up with her knees and slowly lowered herself. Having the control was half the fun with this new amazing sensation.

Harry's hands slid from her ankles, following the lace of the heels up her legs to her hips as she continued to rise and fall, his strong arms aiding her. Like power steering, she thought; she was in control, but he made it easier. Hermione leaned back a little as she rode Harry and cried out as his penis rubbed against that sensitive and now tender spot inside her. Harry began thrusting up to meet her downward fall and her cries grew with every thrust.

A long time later (hours, maybe? What time was it? How long had they been in bed?), Harry's thrusts became more urgent and Hermione experience one long giant orgasm that had her screaming Harry's name and jerking for several minutes as he pounded into her.

With a cry, he came and his thrusting gradually slowed until they both lay sated and breathing heavily in bed. She brushed the sweat matted hair off his forehead and kissed his scar; he tucked her damp hair behind her ear and kissed her deeply. They parted and Hermione rolled off Harry and curled up beside him, her leg draped over his, his arm around her shoulders.

“I love you,” she said to him, and kissed his chest.

She felt the pressure of his lips on her head before the words, “I love you, too. Thank you.”

“For what?” what could he possibly be thanking her for?

“For everything tonight,” he answered. He turned to face her and hugged her with both arms. “It meant a lot to me.”

With a smile on her face, Hermione snaked her arms around Harry. “That's what I was going for.”

All the exertion and hormones released were making her feel very sleepy now, and she said as much. Harry chuckled and conjured a blanket without his wand. “Showoff,” she muttered and he kissed her again.

Hermione made a mental note to research other magical birth control potions. The spells she had used were only potent for a guaranteed twenty-four hours. Hermione had an idea that they would need something that assured quite a few weeks or months. They would be careful, though. Every morning, she decided, she would cast the spell on her and Harry. And maybe before bed, too. She would look into that.

They fell asleep together, arms wrapped around the other's naked body. Satisfied, content, joyful, a million synonyms could describe them, but happy and in love would top the list.

And Hermione was still wearing her heels.

*~*~*

So, wow, nine chapters before they have sex. That's like a record for me, lol. This story turned out to be much longer than I expected. Hope you're all still enjoying it!

My response to my Beta's “Play scrabble? Chess? Perhaps pin the tail on the donkey?” someone's going to pin someone *dun dun DUN*

There's a boy I flirt with on Facebook and DeviantArt who I call “Sexy Man”, “Stud”, and any other synonyms I think of, `cause, well, he is =)

Push-up bras are gold

I'm keeping her name Hermione Jane because it was Hermione Jane in Order of Phoenix the JKR was abducted by aliens.

“I grew it myself” inspired by the Burns and Allen radio broadcast, the Alan Ladd - Making George Jealous episode. Hilariousness! They don't make comedy like they used to.

Infecundus - Latin for “sterile”; Infelix - Latin for “infertile”, as is Infecundus, imagine that…

Eye contact thing is partially taken from the silly, almost arrogant boy I flirt with on AIM/MSN and Myspace. Only partially because I already knew it, he just brought it to the forefront of my mind. There's your damn credit, Ryan!

I'm a Kinesiology major, hence all the technical terms for the muscles and such =D The plural is trapezii, not trapeziuses *nods matter-of-factly*

Challenge Requirements

Harry stay at Hermione's house: CHECK

Harry and Hermione go to the beach: CHECK

Hermione catches Harry wanking: CHECK

Hermione caught researching sex positions: CHECK

Hermione in heels: CHECK

And more to come… =D

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10. Summer Daze

Chapter 10

Summer Daze

Heh Heh ;)

Omg, this took forever to write! I'm so sorry. School has a way of sucking the fun and life out of life. All these crazy time-consuming assignments started bombarding me, we had busy busy weekends and weekend camps at work so I couldn't do schoolwork then. It has been eventful.

Then it was written and needed to be beta'd and my betas and I were busty studying and doing papers and all sorts of crap.

Then the holidays…

Ugh… Better late than never I suppose…

For the record, Hermione will not become pregnant anytime soon. Definitely not while attending Hogwarts. I'm a firm believer in birth control, and if you're too stupid to properly use birth control, you're too stupid to have sex. So, even if it is not mentioned in the story, all birth control precautions are being used effectively.

Yay for Jacqueline for beta-ing! =)

Thank you Jonnie Jon Jon, for helping me ;)

Thank you Libby for beta-ing and being you =)

*~*~*

Harry woke the next morning, stretched, and realized he was naked, and his back felt tender. A second body curled toward him as he stretched, and he looked down at the fuzzy form of Hermione. Memories of the night before came flooding back to him and he grinned, pulling her close to him. Her naked body against his aroused him more than his body already was.

Hermione woke up, her long arms reaching above her head, her legs pointing and back arching toward him as she stretched. The blanket slipped to her waist, exposing her pert breasts to him and Harry didn't wait for an invitation to duck his head and take a nipple in his mouth.

Hermione's moan from a pleasurable stretch turned to a moan of pure sexual pleasure and her hands laced through his hair. Harry loved her nipples, loved her breasts, loved every thing about this woman. When she touched him or when he touched her it felt like a dam of emotion was breaking, like love and lust and respect and adoration and everything he felt was being released and flooded into their movements.

Hermione arched into him, encouraging his ministrations on her, and draped her leg over his waist, the point of her heel touching the bend of his knee. Her hands ran down his back and over his shoulders, and the tender bruises were far from his mind. Wherever she touched felt like fire licking at his skin. It was unbelievable.

Her hips pressed into his, her sex brushed against his member, and Harry didn't need her to insinuate any more. One hand held her hip, pulling her body nearly flush to his, while the other grasped his length and slid easily into her wet warmth. They both sighed with contentment. They were one again.

They relished the feeling of being together as a man and woman for several moments. They were in no hurry. They held each other, gave tender kisses on face and neck, and enjoyed this unity.

Harry slid out and back in slowly and they moaned together. He loved the feeling of her gripping him, of her damp heat wrapped around him

They made tender good morning love, with soft gasps and quiet exclamation.

After their simultaneous climaxes, they laid together, wrapped in the warmth of the morning, the afterglow of making love and the love of one another.

“I'm hungry,” Hermione said after a time, her cheek resting on Harry's chest.

“Me, too,” Harry concurred. He slapped her leg playfully. “Go make some food.”

“Harry…” she said softly, slowly, deeply. She was stretched out against him, her naked body pressed into his with her head back, looking up at him through lovely thick lashes with big brown eyes. She blinked and her lip looked so full and luscious, her eyes holding promises, and Harry knew he would do anything she asked, that he would be helpless to deny her the world.

He kissed her nose. “Grab my wand and I'll make us something.” Harry gasped when her hand wrapped around his now resting member. Giving her a teasing glare, he said, “We'll never eat if you start that.”

Hermione laughed beautifully and reached over the side of the bed. Palming his - ahem - wand, he climbed out of bed to head for the kitchen. Harry heard Hermione give an appreciative sound as he left the room, and he allowed himself to strut down the hall towards the stairs.

He lazily flicked his wand at the blinds to ensure they were closed and there were no peeping neighbors to see his and Hermione's naked shenanigans throughout the day.

In the kitchen, Harry used his wand to guide various food items to the counters and prepared a spectacular breakfast (not to toot his own horn) of scrambled eggs, French toast, ham, and orange juice for two. He laid it out on a giant breakfast tray and conjured a pretty daffodil to add that little something special.

He cast the levitation charm, remembering the smart, almost snotty, witch who had shown everyone how to do it back in first year, and directed the tray up to the bedroom with his wand.

Hermione was very impressed with Harry's breakfast-making skills and thought the daffodil was a “very sweet touch.” It earned him a kiss. Harry inwardly beamed.

They enjoyed the food and lay together, cuddling in bed, Harry's arm wrapped around Hermione's waist as she read a book. Harry and Hermione shared a lazy day together in bed, on the sofa. They made love after lunch (Hermione had become quite apt at ways to seduce Harry while eating), and again before bed.

Harry reflected as he drifted to sleep with his head pillowed on Hermione's breasts, that the day had been one of the most relaxing and fun in his life and knew it was almost solely because of the woman whose arms were holding him close and making him feel like a precious gift.

*~*~*

Harry pinned Hermione against the counter. It was Monday afternoon, their third whole day alone together and she had been driving him crazy all day.

But crazy in a good way.

His lips ran up and down her neck, savoring the taste of her skin, the little moans she gave, the feel of her body. He suddenly remembered a can of whipped cream was in the fridge. Hermione was driving him mad with lust; he was going to drive her crazy with dairy products.

He spun them so they were pressed together near the refrigerator. He was so hard, he wanted her so bad, but this would be so much fun. Like Kinky Hide-and-Seek, but with food.

Hermione pulled Harry's face to hers and their lips met in a searing kiss as he groped blindly in the open fridge for the can. His hand found it and he popped the top off, shaking the can and pulling away from Hermione with a grin. With a sweep of his arm, the kitchen table cleared and Harry perched Hermione on the edge.

With a smirk he knew she would see as devilish (she blushed and he knew he was right) he pressed the tip and trailed some whipped cream along her collar bone. His head dipped and his tongue and lips worked to slowly lick up the foamy treat.

“Mmm, chocolate,” Harry murmured against her neck.

He spread some more down the valley and around the curve of her breast. His tongue followed the path cream and Hermione moaned at his touched. Her body leaned back on the table as Harry ran his tongue and lips and hands over her body.

Harry paused to squeeze more chocolate whipped cream from the can, drawing it along the contours of her chest and waist, around her breast and on her nipple, along the iliac crest of her hip, down her thigh, over her sex. Her hands stroked through his hair as his tongue traced the path of the cream. He loved when she played with his hair, loved the feeling of her hands over him.

Her moans and twitches made Harry want her all the more and he licked the whipped cream along her hip bone and then along her womanhood. Hermione moaned loudly and ran her hands more furiously through his hair as his tongue worked up her slit and around her clit. He stopped before she climaxed and slid his length into her in one thrust. She gasped at the feeling and gripped at Harry inside her. He thrust quickly into her, unable to contain himself. Judging from her squeals of “Yes, Harry! Yes!” Hermione was enjoying herself too.

With a finger, Harry scooped the whipped cream off Hermione's leg. He spread it around her clit, making her jerk against him, then pulled out and dropped to his knees to taste her and the chocolate mix.

Harry licked her until he could sense Hermione was about to climax, then rose to his feet and slid inside her once more. She was so wet, Harry slid in and out easily with his rapid thrusts. Hermione moaned and flailed on the table, her hands and nails digging into his shoulders and arms, her legs locked around his waist as he thrust.

And then she came. Hard. And loud.

Harry paused to enjoy the show of Hermione writhing and screaming in pure ecstasy on the kitchen table. That he caused it, that she responded so easily, that she was so aroused by him, made Harry feel nothing short of a stud. Watching her climax so enthusiastically because of him was almost as good as his own orgasm. Almost.

When Hermione had calmed down some, she moved until Harry's member left her completely and slid off the table to the floor. The can of whipped cream was now in her hand and she trailed a line of the chocolate foam along the length and around the head of his penis.

The cool contents of the can gave an interesting contrast and sensation to the heat of his erect penis. Hermione's tongue licked up the whipped cream and her lips clamped on around his crown. She sucked at the dessert still on him with a swirling tongue as her small, warm hand stroked his shaft.

Harry groaned at the actions Hermione was undertaking. His body sagged and he leaned his hands on the table to support himself. He was leaning slightly over Hermione and it took all his effort to not thrust into the warm sheath of her luscious mouth. Her hand slid quickly and her mouth bobbed in short lengths as her tongue continued twirling at the head.

His head was swimming in pleasure and sensation. Merlin, he loved being with Hermione like this, loved being with her always, loved how she could excite him so effortlessly and surprise him. The feeling of her tongue and hand and lips working her magic on him, the knowledge that she was tasting him, tasting the chocolate whipped cream, tasting herself on his dick was so exhilarating and erotic that Harry couldn't last. His climax hit him hard and he gave a wordless cry that had Hermione's name somewhere in it.

Harry slumped, dropping to his knees in front of Hermione and rested his head on her shoulder. Her arms wrapped around him and they held each other. A moment later, Hermione pulled away and climbed shakily to her feet.

“I'm sticky,” she said when she stood regaining her balance. “I'm going to go shower.” She sounded coy. She walked slowly, her legs still wobbling a little, from the kitchen to the hallway. At the dividing jamb where hallway met kitchen, she turned slightly, looking at him over her shoulder and said, “Feel free to join me,” before continuing on.

It took a moment for the words to sink in, then Harry tried to jump up to follow. His legs weren't cooperating completely yet, and he sprawled on the floor before successfully rising to his feet. By the time he reached the bathroom, Hermione had the water flowing and was stepping in. Harry joined her immediately under the warm spray and took the soap to lather her body.

The shower seemed larger and thought it was his imagination until he spotted Hermione's wand on the sink counter and comprehension found him. Enlargement Charm.

Hermione stood facing the shower head, the water cascading onto her chest and gliding down her body. Harry moved to stand behind her, his hands bubbly with soap, and began to caress her back. Hermione moaned contently at his touch; she loved when he touched her, loved his strong hands.

Somewhere between soaping her body and soaping Harry's, the shower turned more sexual and they were making slow and sensuous love under the jet of water, Hermione sitting on Harry's lap as he was impaled in her and leaning against the side of the tub. His arms wrapped around her toying with her nipples and breasts, occasionally sliding down to touch her clit. His lips trailed on her shoulder as the spray massaged her body along with his fingers.

They collapsed against each other in their simultaneous orgasms, sighing the other's name. It was a very eventual and satisfying Monday.

*~*~*

“Let's go to a movie,” Hermione told Harry the next day, crossing her arms against the back of the sofa and leaning against them. She was in a modest bikini, not nearly as scandalous as the one she had worn to the beach a few weeks ago, but the suit and body posture gave him a nice line of cleavage to glance at.

“But we can't go outside naked,” he replied, his eyes wide.

“Then we'll get dressed, silly,” she said tugging at his arm so he would sit up from his reclined position on the couch. “Please, Harry, let's go out.” Hermione looked at him with her big brown eyes.

“Okay, we'll go see a movie,” he conceded with a smile, “but no chick-flicks,” he warned.

Hermione gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “Thank you, Harry!” she beamed at him and his chest metaphorically swelled. “And I'll find the sappiest movie for us to watch,” she added before running off to change.

“You better be joking!” Harry hollered after her. He had the feeling though, as he ascended the stairs to find a shirt to match the shorts he was wearing, that he had stuck his foot in his mouth.

A few hours later, Harry and Hermione were walking out of Wall-E. It had been nice, cuddling in the movie, but that Hermione wanted to actually watch Wall-E (and that there were hundreds of children in every row of the theater), put a bit of a damper on Harry's flame.

“I love that movie! New favorite!” Hermione was saying as they walked down the hall, her hand laced in his, and continuing on how cute it was, how sweet Wall-E and Eve were. “And I think it made several important points about conservation and recycling, and obesity and health issues.” Leave it to Hermione to analyze a cartoon. Harry loved her for it, though.

“A robot love story… Only Disney and Pixar would.”

“Admit it; you liked it.”

“Yeah, okay, I did,” conceded Harry. “Only Disney and Pixar could make a cockroach cute.”

Hermione leaned close to Harry's “I know another cute cock,” she whispered hotly in his ear, one of her hands trailing gently down his chest. She stopped when she broke out in giggles.

Instantly, all of Harry's teenage male interests were at attention. Then he frowned. “He's not supposed to be cute,” he said.

Hermione laughed and kissed his cheek, her arm linking with Harry's. “He's cute in a very macho, impressive way,” she told with a smile.

“I guess that'll do…” he said blandly and Hermione kissed his cheek again.

Harry learned he and Hermione were still the best friends they always were. That their relationship had not entirely changed in the past few weeks. Except now they kissed and had sex. But they still teased one another, still talked about everything, still helped one another, and Hermione still told Harry when he was being a prat.

What more could I guy ask for in a girl?

*~*~*

A swim had seemed innocent enough when Harry suggested it Wednesday after they had eaten lunch and cleaned up. Hermione had agreed and told Harry she would meet him out there. Harry changed and began swimming laps lengthwise while waiting for Hermione.

When she emerged from the house, Harry stopped at the edge of the pool where he'd left his glasses and pulled them on. His jaw dropped when he looked up at his girlfriend. She was wearing a bikini similar to what she wore to the beach, but…smaller, lower.

Even without his glasses Hermione looked unbelievably sexy. She… sauntered past him, dropping a towel on a lawn chair and continued to the deep end of the pool. Her knees bent and she sprung into the air and dove in the pool perfectly, elegantly, her arms and legs stretched out as she entered the pool.

Harry lost sight of her underwater for a moment, until she broke surface right in front of him. Her body was so close to his, so tantalizing as it brushed ever so slightly against his.

Harry was reminded of the beach, swimming in the ocean with Hermione, her in that wonderful bikini that left very little to his imagination, when they were dancing together in the waves to stay balanced, how she drove him crazy with lust.

Today was the same, except now he knew what treasures were hidden beneath the scraps of cloth she wore.

“Hi, Harry,” she said and her innocently seductive tone, coupled with her breasts brushing against his chest sent his dick from flaccid to raging hard-on instantly.

He reached for her and she backed away, a coy smile on her face. He reached again and was successful. He pulled her flush against him, his mouth latching to hers. It was one of the most intense and heated kisses they had shared.

Harry's back bumped against the cement wall of the pool and he turned so Hermione was between him and the wall. Her legs wrapped around his hips and pulled him close to her, her center rubbing against his arousal.

He couldn't take it, he had to have her. Soon. Now. After now. He needed to already be sated from having ravished Hermione's luscious body.

Harry stumbled up the steps out of the pool holding Hermione's hand and looking around. Everything was a giant blur and he couldn't focus; his attention kept drawing back to Hermione in her scantily clad bikini and the reaction she was causing in his body. He couldn't help but wrap his arms around her and pull her close, kissing her and showing her what she was physically doing to him.

Harry couldn't wait; he needed to be with her, be inside her. But where? Who knew what Peeping-Toms for neighbors might be around here and no way in hell was anyone but him going to see Hermione in only her gorgeous skin, in the throes of passion and ecstasy he brought her to.

Harry felt Hermione pulling at him and let her have complete control of where they were going. This way he could stare at the fuzzy form of her perfect arse and its sway as she led him away.

Hermione knew Harry couldn't see anything and wasn't familiar with her backyard enough to know where everything was, so she took charge. She pulled him to the nearest building: the pool house.

His lips attached to her neck as she worked the knob to the small building and they stumbled into turning into the bathroom of the pool house. Spinning in his arms, Hermione's lips crashed to Harry's as they fumbled around among pool supplies. They bumped into giant hoses hanging on hooks before colliding against the wall and tearing at the meager clothing covering the other's body.

His swim trunks were bunched around his ankles, her bikini bottoms untied on one side and dangling loosely on the other as Harry wrapped her legs around his waist. Hermione loved how strong he was that he could lift her so easily. Harry slid inside her in one fluid motion and her back arched in a loud gasp at the wondrous sensation. One of his hands pushed her top up, exposing her breasts to him and his lips latched onto a nipple. She wondered briefly if Harry even noticed the chlorine on her skin, but the thought flew from her mind as he pulled out and pushed into her again.

Hermione gasped and groaned, moaned and squealed at Harry moving inside her, of him stretching her in this new position. The feel of gravity weighing down as he pressed up into her brought her to a new level of sensation.

Her back against the wall with the feel of the wood against it, her legs gripping tightly around his hips, their clothes pushed off only as much as was necessary to join together, her inner walls gripping tightly at his length, Harry thrusting into her urgently. It was so erotic, so intense, so animalistic to have him taking her against the wall like this. Hermione felt she might orgasm at the mere thought of it.

It was then that the tide of pleasure crashed through her body, crashing against every nerve in her, physical euphoria from Harry's body flooding her and she cried out.

Harry thrust faster, more intensely, and Hermione rode one long giant wave of orgasmic pleasure, her cries growing louder with each drive from Harry as it sent a new surge of bliss into her, until she felt Harry swell and climax with a manly cry.

He slumped against Hermione and she against the wall, panting as if having sprinted a marathon. Gradually, they slid to the floor as their breathing calmed, Hermione lying atop Harry, their swimsuits still disarrayed.

“That was…” Hermione began.

“Intense,” Harry supplied.

“Incredible,” she concurred, providing another synonym for the experience.

“Unbelievable.”

“Erotic.”

“Oh, like that, did you?” Harry quirked an eyebrow at Hermione and she felt herself flush. It amazed her that, as close and physically and emotionally intimate as they were, this man could still make her blush.

“It was…heady,” she said softly.

His hand slid along her side lightly. “And what was heady about it that you liked?” he asked. She could hear the smile in his voice; he was having entirely too much fun with this.

“Did you see the letter from Dumbledore?” Hermione asked, changing the subject.

“Yep,” Harry answered, rolling them onto their sides so they were facing each other. “Private dorms for the Head Boy and Girl,” he continued in an excited tone. “I never knew they had their own rooms! That's so awesome!”

Hermione smiled at him, at his childlike enthusiasm, and how easily distracted he was. She wondered if he had read the part that the Head Boy and Head Girl share a dorm? Well, separate rooms, but sharing a small common room and a bathroom. Did Harry not see the possibilities of that arrangement? Dumbledore must trust them to be mature abstinent teens.

Ha! Not likely.

Which room will we christen first…? she wondered.

With that thought, Hermione sat up and kissed Harry, a long, soft, promising kiss. “Let's go inside and romp around some more,” she whispered.

Harry grinned at her. “Have some more `heady' fun?”

“Oh, you're never going to let that go!” she cried.

He laughed and held her close to him and Hermione closed her eyes. She loved being in his arms like this; she felt so safe and protected. Suddenly they were on a bed, Harry's bed, and his lips were on hers, gentle and loving, and Hermione remembered another way she loved being in Harry's arms.

*~*~*

As I wrote this chapter, I've noticed how nearly desperate I am. Another Random Rosie/Jacqueline ( Beta Added) Fact.

If you fit, showers and bathtubs can be fun.

Wall-E was awesome and cute and I loved and I can't wait for it to be released on DVD. Hermione's analytical perspective is very much mine. I think this was the perfect time for this movie to be released, with the “Go Green” conservation movement and obesity rates soaring, Wall-E is a real eye-opener. It shows that humans need to take care of the Earth (“You came a long way for a drink of water. You just need someone to take care of you.”), that the world needs more Naturalists and Physical Educators. I happen to be both, ergo, the world needs more Rosies =D

For the record on that note, I recycle regularly, conserve water and electricity where I can, and am a big advocate and participant in physical activity and fitness, and at 5'8” 147 pounds (172 cm, 67 kg), I'm in the nice healthy range for my height and weight.

KIN Majors Kick Gluteus Maximus.

Do I know private dorms are overdone? Yes… Do I care? No…

Lazy Rosie… lol

Challenge Requirements

Harry stay at Hermione's house: CHECK

Harry and Hermione go to the beach: CHECK

Hermione catches Harry wanking: CHECK

Hermione caught researching sex positions: CHECK

Hermione in heels: CHECK

Chocolate whipped cream sex*: CHECK

Pool sex: CHECK

And more to come… =D

* I'm not entirely sure that aspect of the challenge required sex, but I envisioned it that way when I read the email and what else would you do in an NC-17 fic? Lol. Also, it was chocolate OR whipped cream, but it stuck in my mind as chocolate whipped cream.

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11. To Hogwarts

Chapter 11

To Hogwarts

So… The plan to finish this during my winter break... didn't happen. Sorry. And this past semester was… intense. Simply, unbelievably intense.

BUT, I'm on summer break now. Yay! Three months of blissful freedom. Plus work and random projects and PE Club events, but that's all fun =)

*~*~*

Hermione spent one more night sharing Harry's bed with him before having to move back to her own room, and they most certainly made the most of the last morning together. They made love with a passion and intensity Hermione hadn't experienced and their simultaneous climaxes were one of the most powerful yet.

After untangling from one another and climbing out of bed, Harry and Hermione spent Friday cleaning the house before the Grangers returned home. Having the advantage of magic, it didn't take long to straighten up the kitchen, living room, dining room and Harry's bedroom.

The task that took the longest was combing the house and yard for any incriminating evidence that might have been overlooked. Hermione did not want her parents to come home and find her thong dangling from the dining room chandelier from their breakfast romp or her bra draped over the patio swing from a late night outdoor excursion.

“We should have dinner ready when my parents get home,” Hermione suggested to Harry once they were sure there was nothing left out that would cause him to run for his life from her father. It was more of a “let's” idea than a suggestion, so Harry immediately agreed and they skimmed cook books from something nice and simple they could cook.

Hermione had always loved working with Harry at Hogwarts, in the library, in the common room, anywhere. They worked so well together, so smoothly and easily. Living with him this summer and especially this past week was no different. It didn't surprise her at all, either.

What did surprise Hermione was how distracting he could be. Whether he did it on purpose or it was part of his clueless charm, almost everything about Harry turned her on or caused her to lose focus some other way.

Hopefully she could pull it together for school. They had N.E.W.T.s this year!

Cooking was not an exception to the Harry-Makes-Hermione-Lose-Focus fact. Whether it was tickling her so she would squirm against him or having a puppet show with the vegetables, Harry Potter was a distraction. Finally she shooed him out of the kitchen so she could get the dinner ready with time to spare.

Hermione's parents had said they would be at the house around five thirty and by four, Hermione had the dinner completely ready and staying fresh under the appropriate charms. Plenty of time to get dressed and relax. Life was so much simpler with magic.

Hermione had just sat on the couch and put her feet up on the table to rest a bit when a familiar guitar tune filled the house.

When I wake up

Well, I know I'm gonna be

I'm gonna be the man who wakes up next to you

Harry came strutting-dancing into the living room.

When I go out

Well, I know I'm gonna be

I'm gonna be the man who goes along with you

Hermione laughed as he began more or less singing along with the words.

If I get drunk

Well, I know I'm gonna be

I'm gonna be the man who gets drunk next to you

Harry had danced, strutted, swaggered his way across the room to her and held out his hand to Hermione. She shook her head laughing, but he gave her that look and that smile and she couldn't say no a second time, and he pulled her to her feet.

And if I haver

Well, I know I'm gonna be

I'm gonna be the man that's havering to you

But I would walk 500 miles

And I would walk 500 more

Just to be the man who walked 5,000 miles to fall down at your door

Harry swung and spun and danced her around to The Proclaimers, singing along with the lyrics. Hermione danced along with him, following his lead, laughing and listening to the lyrics. From walking hard for you to growing old with you to come back home to you and all the words in between, Harry sang them to her as he held her close to him.

“I think I'll hold you to all that,” she said with a smile when the song ended.

“As long as you remember `almost every penny',” he replied and she laughed, “but yes, every word, love,” he told her with a kiss.

Hermione relished in the kiss until they broke apart. She rested her forehead on his. “So this is what you do when I ask you to set the table?” she asked.

“Already done, babe,” Harry said proudly. “This was to make you smile. And it worked,” he added, brushing her cheek with a finger.

“You're such a sweet boyfriend,” she hugged him, liking that he did something just to make her smile.

“And by my calculations,” he continued, “we still have an hour at least-”

“To shower and change for dinner,” Hermione finished.

“We can shower together and save time.”

“Save time, yeah, right, Harry.”

“Water conservation. We need to `Go Green', hun.”

“We would probably use more water together.”

“It'll be fun, though.”

Was he always this persistent?

“It would be,” Hermione agreed, “but we wouldn't want my parents to pull up in their cab and wonder why we're both getting out of the shower at the same time.”

“We'll set a timer.”

“You've thought of everything, haven't you?”

“I'll only have thought of everything if it convinces you,” he replied, pulling Hermione close to him. His fingers rubbed along her spine and she moaned softly. It wouldn't be a bad idea if they set a timer… Especially if he massaged her back like this.

“No fooling around, though,” she told Harry firmly, heading to the staircase.

“Yes, dear,” Harry smiled, following her up.

“And you set a timer for forty-five minutes.”

“Yes, dear.”

They shared a nice, warm shower, chaste by most standards, and Hermione was proud that they could refrain from intimacy. It showed there was more to their relationship than sex. Which, of course, there was.

Harry helped Hermione shampoo and condition her hair and washed her back, complete with massage, and Hermione returned the favor. After the shower, Hermione shaved Harry's face, the little hair there was. She liked that Harry trusted her enough to let her do this, she liked that she could show how much she cared for him by doing this.

The two went to their separate rooms after their chaste shower and dressed. Hermione already missed sharing a room with Harry. Maybe I won't have to wait that long… she thought, applying light make-up in the mirror and remembering the private dorm for the Head Boy and Girl.

Prefects get their own bathroom, Heads get their own dorm. Perks do come with power.

Hermione was checking the food, seeing that it was still fresh for dinner, when her parents walked through the door. “We're home!” they called, dragging their luggage.

“Why didn't you have the cabbie honk?” Hermione asked hugging her mother. “We would have come out to help with your bags.”

“You can't levitate them into the house, dear,” her mother answered.

“Harry can help carry them. He's got those Quidditch arms.”

“It's so nice to be volunteered,” Harry said dryly as he came down the stairs and hugged Hermione's mother and shook her father's hand.

“Well, the house is still standing,” her father said looking around in a mock survey, “and there's no massive damage. You kids aren't in the stocks or burning at the stake. Good job taking care of things, Harry.”

Harry's smile looked, to Hermione's eyes who knew him better than any other, slightly uncomfortable and she knew she was thinking of how he “took care of things”. Hermione's face warmed with a blush at her thoughts of the week, of Harry's hands on her, of his tongue touching her...

“Are you okay, sweetie?” her mother asked her.

“Yeah, Mum,” she answered quickly, smiling. “It's warm in here, isn't it? I have dinner ready if you're hungry. I'm sure you are after your trip.”

When the door was safely shut, Harry levitated the suitcases up the stairs and Hermione seated her parents and began hovering dishes to the dining room table.

“Look, Helen, they brought out the fancy plates,” Robert said. “Our homecoming is a special event.”

“Oh, shush, you,” Helen told him. “Just because I don't want my nice, expensive plates to get ruined doesn't mean I don't think events are special.”

“Oh, Hermione, dinner smells delicious,” her father exclaimed as she set the food down and Harry entered the room.

The four of them ate dinner and Hermione's parents told stories of their trip. After dinner they gathered in the living room and shared photos they had taken.

They stayed up fairly late sharing stories from their week before heading to bed. Harry and Hermione went to their separate rooms after a brief, chaste good night kiss.

Hermione lay in her bed, vowing not to be pathetic and miss Harry when he was right down the hall. She had grown used to sharing a bed with him, and liked his strong arms holding her, his warm body pressed against her, sliding into her…

She moaned and rolled on her side, hugging her pillow. Her body already ached for Harry's.

This was going to be a long weekend, Hermione decided.

*~*~*

Saturday and Sunday were probably the two longest days of Hermione's life, thus far. It was as though a giant clock was following and slowly clicking away the seconds until she could be with Harry again.

Not that she wasn't with Harry; he was always nearby somewhere. But to be with him, to hold him, and to kiss him and snog him senseless, to lay naked with him, and make sweet love to him… Oh, how she missed it.

And it had only been a day. She felt pathetic.

Hermione found that she missed laying together with Harry the most. Waking up beside him for the previous week had been the best part of the summer.

Though slow, the weekend was busy, with packing of trunks, washing of cloths, finding of books that had been scattered about the house.

Finally, after long last, after hours and hours of no more contact than hand holding and brief hugs, they were loading the car to drive to King's Cross. In just a few short hours, Hermione could trap Harry in the prefect's compartment and snog him till his toes curled. Among other things.

Hermione was saying good bye to her mother while her father and Harry loaded the trunks and animal cages into the compartment when her mother said, “Hermione, there's something we need to talk about,” in the serious-mom voice.

Her stomach felt the beginnings of dread and humiliation as she nodded and managed a staggered, “Okay.”

With compassionate and concerned eyes, her mother asked, “Were you careful, sweetie?”

Hermione nodded, her eyes dropping to the wooden boards of the train station, “Yes, Mum.”

“Good,” she said, her arms wrapping around her in a hug. “You better stay that way.”

That's it? Hermione thought. No lecture, no chastising, no disappointed sigh, nothing? “That's it?” Hermione voiced, perplexed.

Her mother smiled, “You're a big girl now, honey, and you're smart. You've always made good decisions, and you're old enough to live your life and any consequences your decisions lead to. Would I rather you'd waited, yes, but it's your life, Hermione, and things are different from when I was your age.”

Hermione was stunned. Never would she have expected her mother to make that statement and so calmly. “How did you know?” she wondered.

“Your father and I aren't blind or stupid, sweetie.”

“Oh…” Her father knew. And was alone with Harry. “Is Dad scolding Harry?”

Her mother put an arm over Hermione's shoulders and they walked toward the train door. “Scolding, warning, threatening, castrating… He was very vague when he mentioned it,” she answered, then laughed at Hermione's worried expression.

*~*~*

Harry and Hermione did not get have a chance to be alone in their Heads Compartment for some time after the train ride began. After donning their school robes, complete with shiny Head badges, they met the year's prefects and gave them the instructions for the trip and for arrival at the school before sending them off.

They visited with Ron, Neville, Luna and Ginny for some time, sharing their summer vacations, laughing at embarrassing stories and joking with one another.

“We better do our rounds, Harry,” Hermione said pointedly after looking at her watch.

Harry gave a heavy. “Yeah, I suppose,” he agreed wearily. Hermione couldn't tell if he was acting or if he really didn't want to leave their friends. Her intentions were to do the briefest of inspections then lock the two of them in their compartment with the necessary charms in place and become reacquainted with the sexiness of Harry Potter.

“New badge, same bossy Hermione,” Ron commented with a grin.

“Stuff it, Ron,” she retorted with a mock glare. “Don't forget to do your rounds, too.”

“Aye, Aye, Head Girl Granger,” he saluted.

After a quick (very quick) glance along each car in the train, Hermione pulled Harry into their private compartment, careful to not be seen by any inquisitive eyes. Once inside, she drew her wand and cast a Silencing Charm, a Locking Charm (with a little something extra to ensure security) and a Trespass Charm down the hall.

Dropping her wand on the seat, Hermione sauntered to Harry, her hands releasing her robe to pool at her feet. She walked her fingers up Harry's chest to the clasp of his school robe.

“Did you really,” she slid the robe off his shoulders, “want to stay with Ron” a tug at the tie loosened it, “and Neville” a shirt button flicked open, “and Ginny,” another button, “and Luna?” Hermione tugged at the shirt, buttons clattering to the floor. “Or did you forget about our private Heads cabin?” she asked, her fingers now trailing down his chest and abs to work on his belt.

Harry smirked, leaning against the wall to watch Hermione do the work of undressing him, and she felt a flood of excitement rush to her center. Did he know how that smirk affected her?

Time for fun, Hermione thought with a seductive smirk of her own.

Pulling hard, she ripped the belt from the loops and Harry's eyes widened slightly in surprise. The smirk faltered when Hermione pushed him back against the seat. Pulling at the ankles of his trousers, she freed Harry of them and his shoes. She straddled his lap, skirt riding up to expose her bare thigh, and her hand slipped inside Harry's boxer to feel his hardening member.

Harry moaned at her touch and Hermione moaned at touching him. Yes, a weekend is far too long, she thought as Harry's hands grabbed at her bum and pulled her against him, his lips pressing to hers in an immensely passionate kiss.

Their hands roamed the other's body, becoming reacquainted with every curve of skin and muscle after the absence. Harry's hands moved up Hermione's back under the shirt and unsnapped her bra. She gasped, pulling away from the kiss and arching into Harry, as a hand cupped her breast and pinched the nipple and Harry's lips and teeth nipped at her neck.

She was so wet and ready for him, so aroused, so in need of being filled by the splendid, wonderfulness of Harry. Hermione ground her center against Harry's firm manhood pressed between them.

“Harry… Please…” she moaned. “I need you.”

He moved both his hands to her arse and pulled her to him as he thrust against her and she gasped. His fingers looped under her panties and ripped them off her. “That's for ripping my shirt,” he growled in her ear and another surge of arousal stream to her core, to where she desperately needed Harry to touch her.

His hands tightened on her hips and lifted her onto his stiff member, and gasped loudly, “Oh… sweet… leaping… Harry!” and thought she would orgasm instantly from the sudden fulfillment after two and a half days of deprivation.

Hermione's eyes rolled in her head as Harry moaned and suckled at her neck. “It's been too long, sweets,” he said, and she groaned in agreement.

Holding her body close to his, Harry flipped them so he hovered over her. “You know, love,” he began, nuzzling her neck, “I've always done wanted to do you in this school girl uniform.”

He rotated his hips and she groaned deep in her throat. “Oh, by all means, Harry, do me,” she told him with a twitch of her eyebrows.

Grinning wickedly, Harry kissed her as he began to thrust, a few slow and deep strokes leading to driving into her quickly and firmly. Hermione moaned, opening her mouth to massage Harry's tongue with hers.

His rhythm began slow and steady and soon Hermione felt the pleasurable tension begin to build. Harry's mouth latched to her neck, kissing and sucking. She moaned and gasped as he moved inside her and his lips kissed down to lavish attention on her sensitive nipples.

“Oh, Harry!” Hermione cried, her breathing increasing in speed and her gasps rising in pitch as she neared her orgasm.

Harry's face hovered over hers with a sly grin. “Not yet, sweets,” he told her with a kiss and change of pace and motion in his thrusts. He moved slower, pressing himself to rub firmly against that oh-so-tender spot inside.

Every time she neared climax, Harry adjusted his rhythm. The variations were driving Hermione up the wall with pleasure. She needed release. She needed that dam filled of pleasurable bliss to burst and wash her with sexual satisfaction.

“Harry…” she moaned. “Please…”

With that devilish smirk that always made her inwardly swoon, he licked his fingers and swirled them gently and firmly against her clit. A moment later, Hermione's jaw dropped in a silent scream, fireworks exploded before her eyes and she felt doused in pure ecstasy as her orgasm crashed over her.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she registered Harry's grunt of completion and his warm, comforting and sweaty weight resting on her.

Breathing returned to normal and Harry rolled to a sitting position beside Hermione, with her legs still sprawled over him.

“That was... intense,” Harry said after a moment.

Hermione could only smile and moan in agreement.

“Two days is far too long for us, dear,” he added and she nodded lazily to concur.

They were silent a while, enjoying and reacquainting with the harmony of post-coital bliss. Hermione loved lying tangled with Harry after making love. It was so intimate and comfortable and she felt was one of the ways that really showed the companionship of their relationship.

“You know,” Harry said slyly, his fingers creeping their way along her leg to her womanhood, “we have a good fifteen minutes till we have to do our rounds again.” The suggestion was not lost to Hermione as his finger caressed her clit gently.

Hermione grinned wickedly as she grabbed his lapels to pull his lips to hers.

*~*~*

Hermione exited the carriage, with another glance at the thestrals. It was new for her to see them. Harry had seen them the past two years, but it still unnerved her a little. More so than believing the coach was pulled by nothing but magic. She waited as Harry climbed out and stood beside her. Ron, Luna, Ginny and Neville had exited first and began walking up the steps, several girls glancing at Neville as he walked past, but Harry and Hermione held back.

Hermione looked up at Harry, knowing the torment of emotions she would see, and gave his hand a comforting squeeze, telling him without words, I'm here for you, love. Their friends stood at the doors as other students skirting past, waiting to see if they were okay, if Harry was ready to return to this place. Glancing down at Hermione, Harry nodded slightly, gave a small half smile Hermione returned, and together they took the steps one at a time to their future.

Last year when they left for summer, the Entrance Hall had been vast and empty corridor, with tapestries and painting on the wall, much of them devastated. Now the hall was fully restored, and in the middle of the hallway stood an impressive memorial Dumbledore had assembled. A tall spire engraved with the names of those who lost their lives that final day of battle, of those who fought to defend what they thought was right. At the top on all four sides, in large distinguished, block letters clearly visible, stood the words, “WE WILL NEVER FORGET”; it summed the night perfectly, in Harry's opinion, in all aspects.

Shadowed lightly over the names were portraits of heroic events from that bloody night, images and illustrations of centaurs and house elves, of witches and wizards, all fighting with one another to overcome the evil that was Voldemort and his supporters.

It was elegant in its simplicity and conveyed the honor and bravery of those who fought, who lost their lives, without unnecessary flair that distracted from the point.

“You okay?” Hermione asked gently, taking his hand in hers.

He nodded solemnly. “Just wish I could have done better,” Harry told her softly.

“Harry…” He had made so much progress! He could not start regressing now. She wouldn't allow it!

“I know,” he said. “I know; I did all I could at the time. I just still wish…” his voice trailed off.

Hermione hugged his arm and they continued to the Great Hall for the Welcome Back Feast of their final year at Hogwarts.

*~*~*

I love I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles) by The Proclaimers. It came on at a PE Majors party we had and we all started rocking out to it. 80s music flashback + alcohol + good friends = awesome fun

Serenade = cheesy, but I don't care, haha

I always liked shaving my ex… *sigh*

The part with the memorial at Hogwarts I wrote just after the 7th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks on the United States. It seemed fitting.

Random Side Note: Dry Spell ended! *content sigh*

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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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