'Stop drooling Harry. You can have the cookies,' Hermione said, a slight smirk on her face as she saw Harry struggling to keep his eyes at her face level, silently lauding herself for that last-second modification to her shirt.
'What? Oh yeah, I certainly will be needing a few, you barely gave me any last time,' Harry said.
'Well that was because I put you in charge of controlling Ron, a task at which you failed miserably, if I may point out,' Hermione said, giving Harry his mug and conjuring a small side-stool. She laid the plate on it and gingerly sat down on the vacant sofa.
'Well, you didn't have to punish me for that,' Harry replied, immediately setting aside the mug of coffee and digging into the plate of cookies.
'Harry, the cookies are going to stay right there, the coffee, however, is going to go cold,' Hermione chided.
'Hmm, ok, anyway, why did you have to stop me from eating them just because Ron decided to act like a pig?' Harry said, still disregarding his coffee. Then he quickly added, 'And it's almost impossible to stop Ron from having a crack at something that's really appetising to him. You saw him at the Ministry's Victory Day Celebrations.'
Hermione smiled. She remembered all too well the gala that the Ministry held in the most posh suites of the Ministry building. A royal throne room housed the cream of the wizarding world's society and the valiant survivors, where they interacted with the guests of honour ; Harry Potter and his two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Everyone was in awe of the 'Golden Trio', and in wonder at their supposedly unbeatable magical potential, and some people were even slightly nervous to approach them. There was a separate chamber for the most lavish food and delicacies, where they would drink and celebrate. Of course, when Ron saw what was in store for them, his behaviour almost bordered on anti-social, so anxious was he to enter the 'heaven-room'. It was all Harry and Hermione could do to contain Ron and get him to behave. This very public incident between the three, endeared them even more to the wizarding public, who finally saw them for what they really were : three normal teenagers.
'Well, I can't argue with you there,' Hermione admitted. 'Don't eat too many now, you can pack up the rest and eat them later,' she added.
'Wow thanks Hermione!' Harry said, pleasantly surprised. He wasn't too hungry right now, he had a lot to eat and drink at the pub. He would save them up for later.
He set the plate aside and reached out for his cup. Taking a sip, he told her, 'By the way Ron's not the only one who has to be controlled sometimes. You're worse,' Harry said, grinning broadly at her.
Hermione choked on her coffee. Staring at Harry increduously, she asked, 'Me? Worse than Ron? What are you talking about Harry? I eat the correct amount of food for a healthy woman my age at the correct time. I also-'
'Oh, no, you got me completely wrong. You see, I'm not talking about food, Hermy darling,' Harry expertly interrupted her rant, using the nickname Ron often used that Hermione hated.
'Then what are you talking about,' Hermione said, glaring at him, the look in her eyes silently daring him to say 'Hermy' again.
'I'm talking about books, Hermione. Books. Distracting Ron from food is improbable, not impossible. But taking a book away from you...' Harry trailed off, clucking his tongue and giving Hermione a patronizing smile.
'I'm not that bad as you say, Harry,' Hermione said defensively. 'Ron stops paying attention to every good thing under the sun when he's faced with a particularly refreshing meal. I never go into oblivion like that,' she finished.
'Oh yeah,' Harry said challengingly, 'What about the time around six months ago when you were reading what was probably the thousandth update of Hogwarts, A History? Me and Ron did everything we could to grab your attention. Even Ron saying that he was going to get married resulted in nothing from you.'
'It can't be thousand, don't be a fool Harry. There have only been twenty seven updates of the book, the latest one coming out a month ago,' Hermione said hotly.
'Whatever. I finally said I was going to dance naked in front of you when you finally stirred from your thousandth update,' Harry said.
Hermione blushed and forgot to tell Harry that it wasn't the thousandth update. She had seemed to be engrossed in the book, but the truth was that she had actually been dreaming about how Harry would like when he was naked. She had been mortified when she caught the word 'naked' come out of Harry's mouth, and for a moment wondered whether Harry had somehow read her mind.
'What do they update in those books anyway? All they probably have in there is how great three founders were, and how much of a dickhead the fourth one was,' Harry said.
'Harry, language,' Hermione said automatically and Harry grinned. Hermione never swore. Even when Ron frequently dropped things like orange juice or pizza toppings on her books and magazines, she would never curse ; rather Ron would find himself at the wrong end of her wand. In fact the only time Harry recalled Hermione swearing was back in third year when she punched Malfoy, and probably once or twice later on.
'And they do have a lot to update. For example, in the latest edition they put in some interesting articles about its construction and previously unknown enchantments cast on it,' Hermione said, and then added, 'You should really read this one, at least a few sections. It features some of the most bizarre Quidditch matches ever played too, and they even mention you somewhere!'
'Coz I'm bizarre, right?' Harry said.
'Well, actually in this article you kinda seem so. They mention you as the only person in the entire Quidditch history of Hogwarts to receive a life ban and then getting it revoked. Anyway, you should read it,' Hermione said, and before Harry could respond in the negative, she quickly got up and said, 'Let me get some marmalade for you.' Harry watched startled as Hermione disappeared into the kitchen and then smiled softly. This was the way it always was. He and Hermione having a comfortable discussion, occasionally arguing about something lightheartedly. It was always relaxing and Harry was glad he wasn't feeling nervous and slightly intimidated by Hermione anymore and that they had eased into a normal, enjoyable conversation.
He sighed in relief. He had managed to banish all remaining thoughts of sexy Hermione out of his head, and in its place bring back thoughts of good old best friend Hermione. He had pretty much forgotten about his arousal earlier and also about Hermione's red unmentionable playing peek-a-boo with his eyes.
Pretty much.
*
Hermione was thinking rapidly to herself as she looked for the marmalade. The intense atmosphere of earlier was gone, to be replaced by a calm and comfortable one. She cursed silently to herself. She would have to change things. Harry won't be allowed to feel at ease, she thought to herself. To him, she was probably always best friend/sister Hermione, but today she had vowed that she would turn into seductress/temptress Hermione.
*
Harry heard, rather than saw Hermione come back, due to the clinking of her high heels against the floor. Which reminded him, why hadn't she taken off her shoes after coming back home? Hermione always wanted her place spotlessly clean. He barely had time to ponder about that when Hermione came back with a medium-sized bottle of orange-lemon marmalade, two spoons, more coffee and a newspaper, and gave the bottle to Harry who wordlessly accepted it. She sat down and crossed her legs, looking as if she didn't have a care in the world. Harry's eyes widened, and all thoughts of marmalade were driven out of his mind.
Well, not all, he thought with a groan. Topping the cookies with the marmalade was great in Harry's opinion but now he was driven by an insane urge to spread the marmalade as a topping to her great legs and lick it all up. Harry trembled slightly as a wave of hot lust shot through him, as he imagined kneeling before Hermione's sitting form and licking the jam off from the edge of her dangling foot in those strappy, sexy heels right till the place where her skirt stopped at mid-thigh, and perhaps even further ; right up until he reached her core...
'Take how much ever you want Harry, I want some too. But take it light on the cookies, you're gonna take the rest home anyway,' Hermione said bossily.
Harry couldn't imagine how Hermione could be so sexy and yet so nagging at the same time. As it is, it was a narrow distance between both the sofas. Now that Hermione felt she needed to cross her legs and dangle her shoes, if Harry even bent forward he would be touching flesh. Or if Hermione got the desire to stretch out a bit, her feet would be pretty much in his lap, as if he was her footrest or something.
He shifted himself in his seat trying to hide from Hermione what exactly her latest action was doing to him. He pulled his own legs as close as possible towards the base of his own sofa, trying to keep it as far away as possible from those two torturous things. He wanted to take the cookies from the side table, but Hermione's locked limbs were preventing this. He would have to push her leg away gently, if he wanted to take those cookies from the table. But he wasn't sure if he could control himself once he touched those sinfully smooth, lustrous legs.
Luckily, Hermione herself gave him the cookies, but not before doing something that made Harry's pulse race furiously. She uncrossed her legs ; moving them painfully slow in his opinion and for a fraction of a second, Harry saw a hint of red flash at him as she did that. Harry couldn't believe his eyes. He hadn't seen what he thought he saw, had he? Hermione Granger, wearing racy red lingerie?!
Harry took two cookies from the plate she offered him and quickly spread some jam over it. He placed the cookie tray back on the side stool and handed the bottle of jam to Hermione. Hermione thanked him, and refilled his mug with coffee and then proceeded to smear her cookies with the jam. Now she neatly slid one leg over the other, this time left over right and promptly started rotating her feet in circles, her heels nearly slipping off occasionally. Harry vaguely recalled seeing a Muggle movie where the lead female did the same thing in an interrogation cell and wormed her way out of trouble, because the interrogator became goo at her feet.
Well, Harry reflected, he was worse than goo right now. Strangely, he felt like surrendering to Hermione. He didn't understand that weird feeling. It's not like he was fighting a losing battle with her. He saw her disappear behind her newspaper. Frowning, he desperately tried to think of something to say.
'Well, I'm certainly not reading that book ever,' he said.
'What?' Hermione asked, looking at him over the top of the newspaper.
'I'm never reading Hogwarts, a History.'
'Yes, you're going to, and what's more I bet I can get you to read it with me,' Hermione said, a dangerous glint in her eye.
'Ha, I'll take that bet, my friend. You'll never, ever get me to touch that book,' Harry said, slowly coming back to his senses.
'Poor boy, he doesn't know what he's in for,' Hermione thought as she heard Harry accept her challenge.
She finished her coffee, marmalade sticking to the corners of her lips as she devoured a cookie in quick succession. She folded the newspaper into half and continued reading, unaware.
'Hermione, you've got some on your face,' Harry said, gesturing at Hermione's mouth.
'Crap, he's supposed to be drooling at my legs by now, and instead he's pointing out that I spilled jam on my face. Great going with the seduction, Granger,' Hermione thought, as she subconsciously darted her tongue out to lick away the offending jam. She didn't catch any on her tongue, so she put a finger, and felt it almost near her cheeks. She absentmindedly put her finger to her tongue, licking it and then making suckling noises as she swallowed it from her finger. She smiled softly at Harry, but was met with a bewildered expression. Harry looked as though he had been clubbed over the head. Only then did Hermine realise how provocative her innocent action turned out to be. Luck was on her side tonight, she thought happily.
It was time to speed things up. Even though the trio were used to late nights, the maximum time any of them had slept was around half-past two. Hermione made some quick mental calculations while she peered over at a pensive looking Harry, it was 1:40 am and she had around forty-five odd minutes before even Harry would decide he had to leave. She then smiled wickedly, a predatory look forming itself on her beautiful, usually innocent face. If Harry was as enamoured by her legs as she thought he was, then maybe she could speed things along. A raunchy idea came to her as she ran a hand through her chestnut brown curls. If she did this, then twenty minutes would be enough to snag him, not forty-five.
She suddenly gave a slight groan, making sure that it was loud enough for Harry to hear, yet soft enough for her to deny making the noise.
Harry looked at Hermione, 'What happened?'
'What do you mean?' she asked.
'The noise you made, you sounded in pain,' Harry said, finishing off his coffee.
'I-I'm f-fine,' Hermione said, making sure that she stumbled her words slightly.
'Hermione, what's wrong?' Harry asked concernedly, now certain that Hermione was in some sort of pain, and for some reason wasn't telling him.
'It-It's nothing, Harry, I'm fine,' Hermione said, knowing that Harry wouldn't give up till he got to the bottom of it. She kicked her heels off angrily, they went flying in opposite directions.
Harry gulped. 'Can she treat someone that aggressively in bed too? Like, just kicking them away like she just did with her shoes?' Harry wondered, before squashing that idea down. Unbidden, another thought popped up in his perverted mind.
'Wonder what it would be like if she did something like that to me. Grabbing me by the collar, kissing me roughly, bruising my lips greatly in the process, wrapping her legs around me, suffocating me like a python, before shoving me across the room with one flick of her wand.'
'Whoa, I never figured you were the dominatrix-seeking guy, Potty. Everyone knows you're probably the most powerful wizard in the world, so they would naturally expect you to be the 'powerful' one in bed, too.' another voice taunted.
'It doesn't mean I'm not powerful or something, just because I prefer a woman taking control in bed.'
'Sure.'
'What that's it?! You're not arguing with me or making snide comments like you usually do?'
'Nope, you can keep talking to yourself while your best friend keeps sitting there, obviously looking like she's in some pain of some sort.'
Harry jerked back to reality. Hermione was now openly grimacing, and clutching her foot.
'Hermione, is your foot aching by any chance?' Harry asked.
'Yeah, sort of,' Hermione admitted, crossing her fingers.
'Then why did you wear your shoes for so long, even after coming home?' Harry asked, watching her rub her heel with her hand.
'Well, they're---they're-- It's actually kind of stupid really,' Hermione said, desperately thinking of a reason.
'What is it?' Harry said, curious to know what she would say.
'Well-Well, these are new. I b-bought them today, so I wanted to wear it for some time,' Hermione could have smacked herself as soon as those words came out of her mouth. What a stupid reason! To her astonishment, Harry accepted it without question.
'Typical Hermione,' Harry thought fondly. 'Just like when she has a splitting headache and yet sinks into some new book, bearing the pain.' However, Hermione's next words sent Harry's mind into overdrive and his senses whirling.
'Can you massage my feet for me, Harry?' Hermione breathed, stretching her legs, rubbing one foot languorously with the toes of her other foot ; imagining that it was Harry's tongue doing that.
'Ma-Massage your f-feet?' Harry blurted, looking at what Hermione was doing, wishing that he could lick Hermione's feet that devotedly.
'Hmm.'
'Now?' Harry said stupidly.
'Yes, now Harry. I massaged your back and hands so many times when you had your grueling Auror training, remember?' Hermione said pointedly.
'Ye-Yeah, you're right. So, um, okay, um, give me your f-foot. I-I'll ma-massage it for you,' Harry stuttered nervously, unable to believe what was about to happen.
Hermione beamed at him before propping her right foot onto his lap, wiggling it slightly against his crotch, before Harry quickly put a hand against her foot and started pressing it, alternating the pressure. Nevertheless, Hermione fiddled with her foot and managed to make contact with his crotch again, eliciting a barely controlled growl from him. She knew she was destroying any self-control he had left with him and was driving him crazy with her lusty acts.
Harry had nearly died and gone to heaven when Hermione had rubbed her foot against his crotch, so blissful was the feeling. Then he felt his member arise completely when Hermione pressed her heel against it. Her foot seemed to have spent a good three seconds exerting itself on his penis, before she got up.
Jeans usually did a good job of covering, but the evidence of Harry's arousal at this stage could definitely not be hidden by even the loosest pair of jeans.
'What's wrong?' Harry asked, stretching his hands and clasping his fingers together to cover himself, severely hoping that Hermione wouldn't spot the bulge in his jeans.
'It's really uncomfortable, sitting down,' Hermione replied, easily spotting what Harry was trying to hide. 'Come on,' she added.
'Wh-Where?' Harry choked out, not even daring to think about which place Hermione was referring to.
'Bed,' Hermione purred.
Harry certainly felt the goosebumps now. There was a thin line of sweat on his forehead and now Hermione had just told him to massage her feet in her bedroom... on her bed....
'W-Why be-bed?' Harry protested weakly.
'Because, it's much more easy for you to massage and it's more comfortable for me as well,' Hermione said in a no nonsense tone that brooked no argument.
'How is it easier for me to massage you on the b-bed than the-'
'Oh, come on Harry! Why do you always argue with everything I say? I always help you out when you're tired after training, no questions asked, don't I?' Hermione asked, licking her lips.
'Y-Yeah, I'm really sorry, Hermione. I was being stupid,' Harry said, feeling slightly ashamed of himself now. Hermione really wanted a massage, and his dirty mind had gone off in a totally different direction.
'Well, come on then,' Hermione said lazily, before smiling at him and placing a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth, lingering there for an extra second.
She strutted towards her bedroom in a way that would have made Draco Malfoy proud. Dazed, Harry placed a hand on the place where Hermione had pecked him. Just one touch of her voluptuous lips, one innocent brush and it seemed his whole face was on fire.
He followed her timidly, getting a weird feeling that his situation right now was comparable to a dog on a leash following its master.
AN - Well, there's chapter 3. I'm not too happy with the ending of this chapter for some reason, but anyway Hermione is having the time of her life, Harry is REALLY REALLY confused, and they've just moved things to the bedroom! If I get a huge number of reviews (AT LEAST a total of 100), I promise I'll update earlier than usual with a lot of fun stuff next chapter!!