Hermione yawned again, even though her every nerve was tingling with anticipation.
'Come on, Hermione, get up,' Harry said.
Hermione moved her hands as if in a daze and 'accidentally' brushed them against Harry's groin. His reaction was instantaneous, Hermione watched through heavy lidded eyes as Harry gave a soft yelp and looked anywhere except at where Hermione's hand had strayed.
Harry cleared his throat and ran his hands through his messy, black hair, a clear sign that he was nervous. He quickly got out of the taxi, not wanting to remain cooped up in a cramped area with a ticking bomb.
Hermione's euphoria increased enormously when she felt the rock-hard bulge in Harry's jeans. Until now, she was pretty sure Harry was nervous about what was going on and maybe a bit turned on, but this was the first clear proof she had of the effect she was having on him.
Hermione proceeded to open the door of her flat, while Harry payed the taxi driver. Hermione quickly went in, knowing she had to make a few changes before Harry could enter the house. She took out her wand and pointed it at her skirt, shortening it by a few inches, until it was just below mid-thigh. Ideally, she would have made the skirt show almost the entire length of her legs, like some of the slutty skirts Ginny sometimes wore. But she couldn't push her luck too far, because if Harry walked in and saw Hermione wearing something that covered just a little more than a thong, even he would get suspicious.
Hermione took a critical glance at her legs, before directing her wand at her modest, yet fitting shirt that complemented her upper body nicely. She made the cut of the crisp, white V-necked piece go down a bit deeper, exposing just a bare hint of her cleavage.
She made her way to the living room where there were two single sofas and one divan. With a flick of her wand, she sent the divan to the guest bedroom, and scooted the two sofas that were facing each other closer, till they were two feet apart. She quickly took a seat and made sure that her legs were as close as possible to her own sofa, so that Harry could sit in his own sofa with ease.
Harry walked in just then, surprised to see Hermione in the living room.
'Hey, what about the free coffee you promised me?' asked Harry, a smirk on his face as he plopped down on the other single sofa.
'Don't worry, Harry - I'll give you much more than a measly coffee. I'll give you something no one can refuse,' Hermione said, leaning forward, her eyes never leaving Harry's.
Her eyes bore into his, as she added in a soft, low voice, 'I bet even you can't refuse.'
'W-Wha-What more than c-coffee can you g-give m-me?' Harry stuttered, unable to take his eyes from her penetrating gaze.
'It's something you like and I'll give it to you however you want it to be served. You really want some...' Hermione said, and quickly added, 'of my mum's special home-mades. It's been a year.'
'Oh, yeah, with the marmalade on top, that's what you meant, r-right,' Harry said, keeping his eyes firmly focused on Hermione's face.
'Of course that's what I was talking about,' Hermione said breezily.
'How come she hasn't made a fresh batch for such a long time?' Harry asked.
'Well, in case you don't know, she's a dentist, not a baker. But yeah, I know what you mean, I miss those cookies,' Hermione replied.
Hermione got up.
'I'll just put the pot on for some coffee and bring the food,' she said and walked towards the kitchen, knowing that he would follow soon enough.
Harry watched her go, cursing himself silently for noticing the enticing sway of her hips as she walked and the sound of her high heels tapping against the marble floor.
A gurgling noise escaped him before he could stop it. Couldn't she see what a short fused bomb she was? That smoking body of hers? Her eyes, her chest, her hips, her legs...
Harry moaned again, he had to be near her, he had to be in her intoxicating presence, she was killing him without even knowing it. He got up and made his way to the kitchen and nearly fainted in shock when he saw what Hermione was up to. There she was, stretched to her maximum, reaching for something in a cupboard that was just slightly beyond her reach.
Harry's mouth went dry and his brain failed to point out that she could have just summoned whatever she wanted with her wand. No, his brain was pretty non-functional at that moment. He knew his best friend was beautiful, but he didn't expect this. He knew Hermione hated any kind of sport or physical game, which left him wondering where she got those sexy abs. Her shirt was well above her belly button, showing off her wonderful, toned stomach. Her skirt was almost riding up her hips as she stretched and he could see every inch, every fine detail of her smooth, creamy legs which were begging to be touched, begging to be worshipped.
For a fleeting moment, Harry wondered if Hermione was up to something and trying to tease him. 'Nah, this is prim and proper Hermione we're talking about. Besides, she didn't know you would walk into the kitchen to leer at her, which, by the way, you should stop doing right about now.'
Unfortunately, the lecherous part of Harry won over and he continued checking his best friend out unabashedly, his eyes roving over her rack (Hermione's rack!) more than one time.
Hermione had managed to get the jar of cookies she was reaching for and she turned abruptly, wanting to catch Harry staring at her bottom. She wasn't disappointed as she noticed Harry quickly take his eyes off of her and look around two feet to her left. He opened his mouth to speak but she beat him to it.
'See something you like?' Hermione purred, walking slowly and seductively towards him. She shook the cookie jar a few times, so that Harry didn't know what she was really talking about.
'Y-Yeah, the b-best c-cookies in the world,' Harry said, instinctively taking a step backward.
Hermione could've thrown the cookie jar with joy when she saw Harry stutter and edge away. Good. Step Two was pretty much completed. First he was nervous and antsy in the taxi and now he was a stuttering fool who was properly intimidated by her, as he very well should be. Now the only step left was to get him properly aroused... Well, of course, after that there was the sex to be had. But Hermione didn't see that as a step, she just saw it as a completion of the formalities.
'Uh.. I was just wondering if you wanted help with anything, the coffee perhaps?' Harry asked.
'Harry, I know I'm pretty awful at cooking, but I can certainly make coffee!' Hermione said sternly. 'Help me take off my clothes. Fuck me hard right here in this kitchen, while we eat these cookies. Help me by doing that.'
'Go sit down, Harry you had a long week of Auror training and those crazy missions, so take it easy. I'll bring these in,' Hermione replied, and then she internally smacked her forehead. He came seeking her and now they were here in the small, cozy kitchen and she had sent him away. She waited for his reply, praying that he would insist on staying in the kitchen and helping her out.
'Ok, I'll be in the living room,' Harry responded, and turned around and left the kitchen.
'Crap,' Hermione thought, watching his sexy figure retreat from view. She could've done something here, like drop a spoon and then bend over to pick it up. An unbidden image of her sprawled languorously on the kitchen counter with her legs spread wide apart and Harry sucking on her cunt, sliding in a cookie every now and then sprang into her mind.
A familiar, exciting feeling of warmth pooled in her centre and Hermione slid a hand under her skirt. She pressed a hand against her knickers, feeling the dampness that Harry had unknowingly caused. How could she last any longer without any form of gratification? Even though her naughty little plan was working beautifully so far, she knew she couldn't go on any longer until she was at least temporarily satiated. She slipped two fingers inside, finding the spot immediately. She gasped wildly as her fingers wove in and out of her, as her body reacted.
With her other hand, she took her wand out of her skirt pocket and created a silencing cone around the room. She tossed her wand away, not caring where it fell. She started caressing her breasts, loving the feel of her pert nipples under her fingers. She squeezed them until they could become no harder and then she erupted. She moaned loudly as she came, her back arched, her juices gushing out with amazing intensity and she shivered one last time and then came to rest.
Hermione fumbled her way toward the place where her wand lay, still in a daze from the mind-blowing orgasm she just had. She cleared the mess she had created with a deft flick of her wand and sat down against the wall with a sigh. She made her shirt cut down even deeper, so that a decent amount of cleavage was now lying exposed, but still leaving a lot to the imagination. She shortened her skirt by another good two inches, and it had now reached the length that Ginny mostly wore and Hermione never wore.
She waited for another minute or so, humming softly to herself. She poured some coffee into two large mugs and put an enormous amount of cookies onto a steel plate. She gathered everything into her hands and was about to leave the kitchen, when an idea struck her.
She set the things back on the kitchen counter, and pointed her wand at her shirt, muttering a soft spell. The effect was immediate. One could easily see slight hints of a lacy, red bra through her now semi-transparent shirt.
'Harry won't know what hit him,' Hermione thought smugly. Grinning like a Cheshire Cat, she took one last look at her now mid-thigh length skirt and headed for the living room, eagerly anticipating Harry's reaction to her change.
*
Earlier, after Hermione had gone upstairs to open the door of her flat, she had left a drooling and disbelieving Harry behind. He hated admitting it to himself, but he had been more aroused by those twenty minutes in the taxi, than he had ever been in his life. And considering the fact that he was the Saviour of the World and all that crap, and even had beautiful women of all ages ranging from fifteen to forty throwing themselves at him, willing and eager to carry his child, that was saying something.
He paid the taxi driver and watched absently as the taxi crossed a small junction and drove off into the pitch black night. He sat down on the pavement and put his head in his hands. In truth, he was feeling kind of ashamed of himself and also a little bit guilty for enjoying Hermione's presence too much.
She was feeling sleepy in the taxi and it was certainly an accident when she had gotten out of the taxi and brushed her arm against his manhood. And here he was, revelling in that fact, sitting on the pavement in a semi-wanking mood, thinking about his best friend for eight years performing fellatio on him. Some best friend he was.
He would deny the mind-numbing effect Hermione was having on him to anybody who questioned him, but there was no denying the fact that Harry now had a full blown erection, waiting to be relieved. But his willpower won through. He refused to jack off to the image of his sexy, bookworm best friend. He would not blow away Hermione's dignity like that.
Afterwards, when he had finally managed to lure the little general back into the shape of a cotton bag, he ran up the stairs and opened the door of Hermione's flat. He managed to stop his jaw from dropping when he saw Hermione curled up in a chair, sitting as if she was royalty that was waiting for her servants. 'At least, she hasn't crossed her legs or something, I don't know what I would do if she crossed her legs wearing those three-inched heels and that skirt, which somehow, miraculously looks a bit shorter.'
Harry pondered on that thought for a moment before banishing it from his mind. Hermione had just gotten there and it was the same skirt she was wearing before. He was hallucinating and he was being too hopeful of seeing Hermione in less and less clothes each time he saw her. He cursed himself again for taking advantage of Hermione like that, even though it was only in his mind. What next? Hermione would be wearing a see-through shirt and a lacy bra would be popping out right in his face, wouldn't it? Or her skirt would be even more shorter than its current length.
'Crazy, delusional prat. You're going to have a hot cup of coffee, and then you're going to go have a cold shower when you reach home,' his mind told him as he took a seat opposite Hermione.
Afterwards, when he had sat down again in that same seat after unsuccessfully offering Hermione help in the kitchen (but still getting a first-class view of her booty), he was a dazed man.
'How would it be if she shoved her hips into your face and wriggled them,' Harry thought.
'Stop it, you wanker, you're dreaming about your best friend over there!!'
'What are you saying, I'm not saying anything out loud, and I'm not jerking off or something. I would never insult Hermione that way. I'm just thinking... kind of..'
'That's the definition of dreaming, you idiot.'
'Yeah, I guess. I wonder if she would consent to walking all over me with those sexy heels of hers and feeding me those cookies.'
Harry felt a lower part of his anatomy react instantaneously at that last thought.
'There it is. Your little general has gone from a bag of cotton back into diamond mode again.'
'Shut up,' Harry responded irritably, as he tried in vain to adjust himself, so that the now rapidly growing bulge would go away.
Hermione walked back in sometime later, with two steaming mugs of coffee in her hands, along with a plate of the cookies Harry loved.
Harry was about to get up when she came in, and unload the stuff off of her arms, but this time his jaw really dropped. There it was, just like in his daydreams. Right there. She had a transparent shirt on, okay, in all fairness, translucent one, and... and there was a lacy, red bra gleaming at him from underneath. And her skirt! It was mid-thigh, the exact same one from his thoughts.
It took all of Harry's formidable determination to not drool or fall at her feet. It took all of his mental stamina to not throw her against the wall and shag her senseless, or worse, do something like begging her to treat his aroused soul.
Still, he couldn't take his eyes away from her bewitching frame.
He was hallucinating, right?
He honestly didn't know what the answer to that was.
However, he did know that his little general would now stay in that dreaded diamond mode, and would not revert back to the original form any time soon.
AN - Well, that's chapter 2. Stay tuned for the next one with a really bewildered Harry and a naughty Hermione, lol!
You won't find out what Hermione bought in the pub yet, but I can assure you it's not a contraceptive device or an alcoholic drink.. And one of the reviewers mentioned a lust potion. No, that's Ginny's job (although she is portrayed as a good character in this story, I hate her)
Anyway, please review!!