A/N: **WARNING: ADULT SITUATIONS IN THIS CHAPTER**
"What are you doing here?"
"I think that's kind of obvious."
"Oh…" Hermione breathed, trying to keep her eyes on Harry's face rather than his dripping towel.
"A more plausible question would be, 'what are you doing here?'" he asked softly, his eyes wandering the sopping witch before him.
"Girls' loo is broken," was all she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, "When did you get here?"
"After you, apparently. I thought you were Dean or Seamus…"
"Not quite…" Hermione said quietly, an awkward smile playing on her lips.
Their eyes continued to search the other's form, both soaking wet and covered with merely a towel. Hermione's breathing became shallow, her eyes hovering on the obstruction blocking her view. She noticed Harry was exhaling deeply, pools of green glued to the the dripping material she held in each fist, centimeters above her breasts.
"So, where were you, then?" Hermione asked timidly, voice quivering with each syllable- dreading his answer.
"Common room- I left my potions essay on one of the tables…" he replied, not taking his eyes off her.
"You weren't out with…" Hermione trailed off, taking a step closer to Harry as her unblinking eyes bore into his. Brown melted into green, as if joining them together, and a magnetic beam was set into motion, drawing them nearer with each passing breath.
"No," he answered faintly, chest heaving up and down as Hermione crept closer.
"You weren't out snogging her, I take it?" her eyes were set ablaze, flames flickering beneath the shiny surface. Beads of water glistened on her creamy complexion, trickling down her chest below the thin partition. She ran her tongue across her bottom lip, flicking her mane of sodden tresses as she gazed intently into Harry's eyes.
"We haven't done that in a while…" he confessed, taking a step closer to her lightly fluttering towel.
"Oh? Well, I can't say that I have either," she drawled, her voice husky as their bodies touched, heat radiating from beneath the gathered fabrics.
"I certainly can't see why…" Harry fiddled with the hem of her towel, feeling the softness of the cloth beneath his fingertips.
"I can't see why you're with Ginny," she uttered, not in an angry tone, but one of general curiosity. Her fingers danced across his gleaming biceps as she lusted for his chest, eyes searing the bronzen muscles that glinted in the morning light.
"She likes me," he whispered into her hair, a trembling hand winding its way through the sodden curls, "No one's really liked me before."
"I do," she breathed into his neck, chills running down Harry's spine.
Their eyes locked in a heated battle, fiery embers of emerald scorching the chocolate brown. Hermione felt the warmth of something on her leg, realizing it was him, and panted uncontrollably as Harry grabbed her in his arms. He covered her mouth with his own, dripping locks of darkest night falling into his eyes.
Hermione kissed back with every fiber of her being, feeling the softness of his lips press back against hers. Eyes closed in ecstasy, she reached for his hair, running a hand through the soaking tresses that felt like silk beneath her fingers.
Harry's tongue slid down her throat, one writhing against the other in a blaze of burning passion. His hands found her sides, smoothing the divider that separated him from the delicious curves of her body. He yanked the towel from around her backside, dropping it to the floor as greedy hands caressed her bare physique.
The door knob rattled from behind them and the magic was torn apart, Hermione gasping as Harry thrust her into the nearest shower, jumping in behind her. Squashed together behind the billowing curtain, they heard a grumbling figure trudge along the patterned ground, followed by a loud 'thud.'
Hermione's wet towel was still on the floor.
"GOD DAMN IT! Stupid Neville using my pants and leaving bleeding towels all over the ruddy place, I ought to kill him in his sleep…"
Harry could feel Hermione shivering beneath him, her eyes wide with fear as they stared at the crack in their flowing barrier. Harry quickly turned on the faucet, the sounds of rushing water drowning out the intruder in their midst. Streams of dampness rained on his skin, gliding down his arms and chest as he stood to face his prisoner.
Hermione was backed against the wall, completely unaware of her nakedness, and briefly met his gaze before slowly lowering her own, lingering on the sodden towel he clamped tightly in his fist. Harry watched her eyes, feeling the urge to look elsewhere, and abruptly opened his palm, the drenched material plopping to the stone basin below.
A spark was lit in her eyes, water pouring down her supple breasts as steam surrounded her features. Harry's unclothed form crept closer, forest green clinging to every curve of her silhouette. He was completely drenched, watching her watching him, eyes filled with desire as he brushed a sopping tendril from her eyes.
Hermione swayed her hips in a sultry manner, biting her lip as their naked bodies found one another, raindrops beating relentlessly on unveiled flesh. Harry feverishly kissed her jawline, Hermione's breath ragged as his hands caressed her ribcage.
She delicately fingered the tip of his appendage, Harry's eyes widening as they stared into hers, a small gasp escaping from his lips. Her hand gently glided over its smooth surface, tightening her grip as she moved it back and forth, the water flowing freely over its exposed façade.
Harry grinded into her, smacking a hand to the wall as he enveloped her mouth in his own, tearing into the velvety lips that quivered beneath him. He kneaded her breasts, running a finger over the hardened nipples as Hermione continued to stroke his protrusion.
Continuously changing pace, she rubbed fast and slow, barely grazing the exterior then vigorously massaging the rounded apex. A living fantasy, Hermione's face was flushed with longing and passion, Harry's body stiffening underneath her sliding fingertips.
He whipped his head back, stifling a cry as bottled passion was released from within. Surrounded by a misty fog, the gentle sound of a waterfall pattered on the basin, the pair in the shower smiling and breathless as the spigot was tightly closed.
Harry tucked his head out from behind the curtain, surveying the room for its other previous occupant. The room completely empty, he handed Hermione the floral robe she had thought to be lost- helping her out of the shower as he did so.
She draped the satin material over her bare skin, the material clinging to her dampened frame. Cheeks tinged with pink, she took Harry's hand, allowing him to lead her into the frigid open. The room was deafeningly silent, the mysterious figure- most likely Ron- having disappeared.
Awkwardness filled the room, hearts beating just as quickly as before with the nervousness of what to say.
"We can't tell anybody."
A/N: Who said it? And why? Find out in the forthcoming installment of "Deceptions"- coming to a Portkey near you! ; )