Rating: R
Ship: HHr (main emphasis)
The (unlovely) procedure: all rights go to JKR for plot and characters, Scholastic, Warner, and whoever else has their hands in HP.
Author Note: I read the Potter series before seeing the films. In my head, when I read the part of Hermione I saw Natalie Portman. If I were to cast the part of Hermione outside the Potter series, I believe Natalie would be a great "adult Hermione". She's so nerdy, independent, humble-aspects that fit well with the Hermione character. I'm not too sure about Harry. If Johnny Depp were younger, he'd be a great possibility.
***
Chapter Five ~ Perfection
I'm going to try and explain something that cannot be explained by in words. Webster's dictionary defines perfection as "freedom from faults and defects". Another definition proclaims, "an exemplification of supreme excellence," while another definition of perfection simply says, "an unsurpassable degree of purity". A year ago I would scoff at the word. These definitions were lies. They weren't present in my life; a foreign entity garnering nothing. Until…until now. Right now. Now.
Hermione has been with me for three weeks. Three weeks. Just three weeks. The best three weeks of my life. At times, I felt as if I'd died. Voldemort had to have killed me. This cannot be reality. Let me paint you a picture of what I mean.
This morning we lay in bed for a while, just the two of us enjoying our sublime gratification. She lay on me, her arms across my clavicle and her chin on her hands. I felt their softness where my shoulder blades met in the front under my chin. She kept her deep, cinnamon brown eyes always on me; a smile on her face. Her mahogany locks were like a veil around me, like another curtain of intimate privacy.
My white, snowy sheets created a canvas of which my Hermione was its centre piece. She was the focal point, her head just out of the comforter, her body making a slight hill atop me in the middle of the mattress. From a nearby window, the morning's beautiful rays of sunshine shown in, making streaks along the eggshell-coloured bed. One of those streaks of pretty light cascaded right over and on top of Hermione's features; her brown, wild hair catching much of the sun. The subtle light produced a glow not only along her hair, but some escaped through, bringing a soft gleam to her silvery cheeks.
I lay haphazardly spread out under her; her body aligned in the centre of mine. I had my arms, much like the random way my body settled, under my head to prop it level with her eyesight. I needed to see my angel. She'd kissed me the moment I awoke, and several times after that. The caresses felt completely innocent, and extremely sexy.
Hermione purred, grinning. I felt her body slip on me, moving up. The sunlight breached across her face, the bridge of her nose grazing me, starting from under my chin and going up and over on my cheek. I closed my eyes and gently inhaled, the inhale subsiding into her lips when she met mine. I had my arms out, placing one on the backside of her head, in her chaotic locks, and cradled her to me. Her natural vanilla scent enveloped me, embracing me like her arms did. I felt her knee slip up my bare side, tracing the line my weight made in the bed.
I had her tilt her head. My mouth peck-kissed a line from her lips, down her chin, and to her throat. With my hands around her waist, I lifted her towards the headboard to further access the sweet spots of her neck. I heard her hesitate in breathing. She'd inhale sharply, sigh, and I'd smile when she would moan softly. I had her ribbed-tank top off her halfway, to her breast, and roamed my hands, my fingertips all along the unclad, tender portions.
She had tufts of my black hair in her hands. In intervals, especially during a sharp breath she'd take, she'd grip. With my face buried in her chest, her arms collapsed around my face, I felt her lips lightly caress lines above my brow. I felt her smell my hair and sigh as we had to tame it down. We'd discussed if we were going too fast nights ago. The only part she asked for me was to wait. I loved her, and with that love I felt for her grow every day, if she wanted to wait for that extra-special moment between us, I was fine by it. Full and utter respect, care, and unconditional adoration for Hermione. Snap my fingers, and it was done.
We had a difficult time taming ourselves. Ironically, she'd have to calm far, far more times than I did. I'd smirk, laugh a little, when she'd become flush.
What is there left to ask for? Perfection. She came down on me, my hands loose for her to move, and placed her chin back around where it originally lay. She laughed at my smug look, having made her have a time resisting. She put her face to my chest, smiling with a bit of pink in her cheeks. She took up the edge of the sheet, and comforter, and yanked it over her head. The unshielded light came across me now that the angel withdrew.
Slowly I lifted the sheet and all with my fingers. Slowly her dark brunette hair dropped forth from its containment. Slowly I found Hermione, her eyes locked onto me with a smirk. She laughed and pulled the sheets away from me and back around her. I hugged my little hill, her tiny body squirming. I felt her kiss my chest and ease out of her spot, breaking through the shell she created to my lips. She kissed me softly, her hands on my shoulders. Her fingers found me and intertwined, lacing them between my laying, limp fingers on my pillow.
***
The following day, a minor bump occurred within our passionate, intimate universe. I'd been washing up dishes in the kitchen after our lunch. Hermione got used to me shooing her away. She didn't need to do this when I was home. I'll take care of this manual stuff. Of course, it was because I loved her, not because she couldn't or that she was a feeble woman. The cliche, "damsel in distress". We did make an agreement that she'd cook for me, but I wasn't budging from the dishes. And, washing dishes also included drying them. She tried to find a loop hole in my system.
I was in the middle of wiping my hands off on a clean dish rag. A tiny, pitch-black owl flew in the open window above the sink. The wind increased its power, pushing the little creature further in like the curtains. The owl landed right on the tip-tip of the water faucet. Perched there, my eyes went to the oversized letter; or, at least it looked oversized. The contrast between the owl and its massive letter made it seem larger than normal.
The owl flapped its wings and I noticed the emblem wrapped around its claw: the Official Owl Networking Service. The owl had difficulty with the bulk, and I immediately felt bad for it as gravity pulled its head down. I took up the letter, patted the miniature owl on its head, and watched it take off. For a tiny thing it sure did fly: one moment I saw the black dot flap away, and the next, the owl had vanished in the partially clouded sky.
Instantly, I knew who this was from. I didn't have to second guess; though, this was an actual letter. The person who had sent the other howlers had sent this one, too. This wasn't a howler. The red was remarkably "Weasley" in its nature. Wax, it was, had an imprint of "RBW" from his signet ring. I sighed, ran my hands across the dish rag once more and threw it over my shoulder.
From the den, a continual strumming of a guitar echoed off its walls. She'd been singing acoustic with a guitar after we finished eating. I turned the corner of the kitchen so I could see the den just a step down from me. In the corner she sat between three windows. The centre one in a half-hexagon type of seating was just open, letting some of the wind brush her hair while she fingered each string on the guitar propped on her lap.
Hermione's focus was intent on her fingers. With her head lowered toward the guitar, her hair fell to the side. The wind picked up again, pieces of her hair floating in mid-air. She found a liking to my shirts, wearing a white one which became transparent against the sunlight. I could see her arms around the guitar placed along her side. My dress shirt waved in the breeze around her; she hadn't buttoned it, allowing her pearly crop top to be seen. Her skin hue was just a tad darker than the purity of the white surrounding her, glimpses of it exposed at the wind's mercy.
I stood at the entrance to the den. We had to step down to enter, my feet right on the darkly stained, wooden ledge. I wrapped my arms together and tilted my body to the right so it lay on the frame of the entry. My shoulder and the side of my arm touched the coolness of the similar in colour, stained wooden framing.
"Mama, put my guns in the ground…," her eyes were closed as she nodded her head a little to the beat in her head. Her voice sang out gently across the quiet environment. The only sound was the small breeze slipping in from the window. "…I can't shoot them, anymore."
Hermione opened her eyes when her fingers stroked a different chord. She noticed me standing there and smiled. She lowered her head to the guitar lying between her legs, the knee farthest from me bent slightly, and sang the soothing descant. "That long black cloud is coming down…"
Her fingers frolicked through the chords, "…I feel like I'm knockin' on Heaven's door."
She glanced up at me, strumming, and grinned. The light amongst her created a halo about her form. A glow shifted softly along her contours. She shut her eyes briefly before opening them back to me. She tucked some of her falling hair behind her ear. I didn't want to stop her. My little sprite hummed her tune. The windows, alight with the bright sun, made it look as if she wore wings.
Silently, I tiptoed down into the den. Hermione followed me with her eyes, her lithe fingers getting it done amongst the guitar strings. My own private concert. I sat down on the sofa farthest from her and leaned back against the arm. The letter burned in my hand. The Weasley-red insignia made me nervous…at least the entire letter wasn't all red. Howlers…three he sent, two aimed at me, the first one sent at her. He started on her bad when she opened it and I didn't give it time to say one more word. My hand wrapped around that damn thing and tore it to pieces. Not even magic can find a way around the handiwork of a severely pissed person, and his hands.
Hermione tilted her head up, a notion of wanting to know what was on my mind. Her soft strum spilled from her instrument. I held the letter up, insignia out, for her to see. She closed her eyes and laid her fingers on the last three chords. With her eyes still closed, she set her guitar aside for the moment. Her feet landed on the floor in front of her, having been swung over from her relaxed positions under and beside her figure. She sighed whilst her lithe form prodded over to me gently from her seat by the shining windows.
When she sat in front of me, she immediately went Indian-style. Her body was aligned with mine, parallel. She stuck her hand out, her other taking the hair above her forehead and combing it back. She looked beleaguered, irritated. I didn't hand the letter to her right away, keeping it in my hand. She glanced from the off-white envelop to me, and back to the envelope.
"…Are you sure?" I asked, worried she'd get angry, sad, depressed-a pattern in these letters. "I would have just thrown it out, but I made sure."
Hermione paused, and then sighed again. She repeated her action prior, taking the hair away from her brow and pulling it back to the crown. She looked as if she zoned out for a spell, but came to, "Just give it to me…" the black outline from her liner brought out her eyes as she blinked back-and-forth from the envelope and me. "I've grown numb to his habitual cursing."
"Hey," I cried out softly to Hermione. She looked up at me after staring at the envelope. I'd given it to her, amidst removing the wax to reveal the contents. "I love you."
She made a face, feeling how genuine and heartfelt I was, and leaned across the small breadth between us to lightly kiss my lips. She sat back, the parchment sliding out from the envelope in her hand. The parchment was rather long in length. I could see Ron's handwriting when she'd move the letter further in the sunlight, stretching it out to read everything. I put my hand on her knee. She wore dark blue jean shorts today that didn't make it past mid-thigh. I marveled over everything that mind of hers had in store for herself, and me.
"What's it say?" I said after a while of quietness. She was still reading it, but I'd become antsy. Something fell out from the parchment and into her lap. She went to retrieve it, but stopped to answer my question.
"He…," Hermione exhaled a breath of pent-up air. "He's asking for my forgiveness. He…"
I began rubbing her leg and scooted up so we were less than an inch away from each other, "…go on."
"He wants me back. He's pleading…," she set down the parchment in her lap, continuing to read the last parts. I gazed down to see Ron's chicken-scratch sprawled along the paper in ink. "'…you know I don't mean what I say, muffin, especially when I've had a really rough day at work', he says…and many other things like that…"
"Wow…," hearing Ron actually say something sensible was shocking. A dramatic change.
Hermione picked up a piece of the Daily Prophet that fell from the letter. I knew it was the Daily Prophet by its extreme yellow discoloration. The piece was folded twice, and when Hermione opened it, she immediately crushed it in her palm. She glanced at me, her facial features somber. She looked as if she were to cry.
She took action quicker than I expected…but, I hadn't expected her to do something like this. The piece of the paper was dropped from her hand and onto the floor away from the sofa. She tilted forward, her knees going to the plush of the cushions. She crawled on me and pushed me gently back into the arm. She wrapped herself around me, straddled my waist tight with her legs, and slid her hands behind my head. She brought her lips to mine and kissed me hard.
I couldn't figure out what was going on. Actually, my brain went dead on account of Hermione's tongue teasing me. I had my hands on her instantaneously, feeling her torso wriggle with her slithering motions against my body. The piece of the Daily Prophet…the letter…something had made her react this way.
Confused, but exhilarated, I let her roam about my face with peck-kisses. Down my neck she went, and to my clavicle where she lingered. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the arm. A brief thought flashed through my mind. I wondered if I could see whatever it was she crumpled up and threw out without doing much thinking. The crushed paper sat on the floor like a used, rotting apple core.
I rolled my head to the side; rather, she led me into the roll with her direction of caress. Just enough, too, as my sight struck the mobile photograph jumping around on the squeezed newsprint. The photograph I recognized right away. My own face looked right back at me. It was taken a day or two after Voldemort's death when the various media swarmed us. People, of course, were thrilled during the occasion. I was too, smiling off into the camera. Us three, the "trio", together with Neville, Ginny, and Luna. Beside me, however, was Ron's true intention. Hermione was between Ron and I, and happy as happy can be beside the person she was courting at the time. The picture was never-ending, repeating from the point where Hermione would throw her arms around Ron to when she kissed him in the excitement.
I heard Hermione about my neck. She moaned, kissing my cheek, my chin, and then my mouth, "I love you." The smile on my face spoke everything.
***
I breathed into the gentle breeze. The trees overhead swayed within Mother Earth's sigh. The sunlight hit along the leaves, breaking off a variety of green hues. They sparkled against the purplish sky gradually churning with orange sherbet. The clouds, once white, now mirrored the colours dancing together up above. The sounds of automobiles were far off; only a beep of a horn could be heard every now and then.
I lay in the grass on my elbows. My elbows held my weight as I watched the scene in front of me. A concrete jungle, of sorts, in south London: the Stockwell Skatepark. Hermione wanted to visit the park for the longest time. While we left the confines of Number Twelve, we met up with Ginny and Neville who came with us. Neville sat beside me, Indian-style, and observed the groups of skaters and bikers riding and jumping the loops and barricades. The majority of the patrons held skateboards much like my Hermione.
She and Ginny were trying to get something going. Hermione, in her little white shirt and black baggy pants get-up, drove her skateboard a fraction off a turn and got about an inch or two of air. She looked pleased with herself, an amateur, and I applauded when she came down without falling. Ginny, right behind her in torn dark blue jeans and a black t-shirt, went to mimic Hermione but the nose of the board caught against the cement. She took a few steps off her board from the momentum, her tennis shoes leaving marks on the concrete.
I saw Neville go to get up, his arms clutching the grass. Ginny hadn't fallen down, and with that conclusion, Neville relaxed back on his behind.
"Think we should go help them?" I said, my attention on Hermione and how her shirt was trimmed to showcase her thin physique. The sides on the cotton slid perfectly in shape with the ever-so-slight curve of her torso and down to her hips from her chest. Some of her hair got trapped in the tiny pocket above her chest. Turning around to look at Ginny, she flicked the strand out and had the wind pick it up with the rest of her gorgeous hair flowing behind her. She'd turned her board around and was going back toward Ginny.
"And look like a fool falling down?" Neville snorted. "I might as well be dancing."
I sighed, seeing Ginny get right back up on her board and skate away with Hermione in lead. Hermione's loosened, ebony tie waved in the air as she picked up speed. The bottom tip fluttered, having been shifted under her arm where it grazed the boundary between her sleeve and her skin. The sleeve had been folded up high on her arm, almost to her shoulder. Hermione glanced back at Ginny. I caught her smile; her pink lips in a large grin. She said something to Ginny, tucked a lock behind her ear and took off. Clearly, they were racing.
"Look at her," I sighed again. I heard Hermione laughing in a zephyr. The wind softly pushed on me, and I could feel my crow's nest of mess and tangles being combed by nature. I took a deep breath. "Isn't she just the most brilliant and amazing thing you've ever seen?"
"You guy's seem pretty happy," Neville answered, looking on at Ginny with Hermione. "…Maybe Gin interfering was legitimate."
"She's absolutely sexy and smart," My head swiveled slowly to follow her form with Ginny in chase. I gritted my teeth. The curvatures of her body, the way she moved herself, how she knew herself…everything about her made it so very difficult to not run to her and toss her over my shoulder. "Damn, damn, damn!"
Neville just laughed, and then his tone dropped off as if something died. I glanced at him, vigilant to his trailing off. He did like I had done, turning his head to watch Ginny skate on by, but in silence. I kept my eye on him for a moment, but couldn't resist another laugh of Hermione from afar. That's when he finally spoke up:
"Ron asked about her yesterday."
"He did, did he?"
"He came over to reconcile with Ginny. They've been talking off and on since that day…you know."
Hermione leaped in the air and grinded her board against a rail a foot or two off the ground. She was only on it a few seconds, landing with a smack on two axils. Ginny tried also, getting a few seconds of air-time on the railing, and fell nearly in the same spot as Hermione. Neville and I clapped for our girls on the sideline.
After a brief pause, I asked, "…So, what did he ask? I've got to hear this." I didn't take my eyes off my lithe fairy flittering across the manmade landscape.
"If she'd gotten his letters. He hadn't heard back."
"Oh, yeah, she got them. The howlers included," I rolled my eyes. "Does he actually expect her to reply? In the first howler he compared her to a whore. Can't really blame her for not writing back."
Neville made a light chortle in his hand, "I'm no messenger here. You guy's really are great for each other. I haven't seen Hermione smile so much since Hogwarts, and Ginny is just gushing over how good you are to her `girl'. Sometimes it's sickening it's so sweet."
I grinned and gazed at Hermione as she went to flip the board in the air, but the board landed on its side. She had to stop in her tracks, return the mode of transportation over, and go again. She waved over at me after flipping the board and having it land on its wheels. I waved back. "Neville," I began.
"What's up?"
"I am in love, man."
"I've overheard some conversations of Ginny's between her and Hermione, and Harry," Neville patted my shoulder. "That, my friend, goes both ways. Ginny went into a fit one night and screamed over the phone, `I knew it! I knew you guy's loved each other!' I hear it all the time. You know how vocal Ginny gets when she gets all giddy."
"She gets quite giddy when she's talking to Gin over the phone, too," my heart was a-flutter, and I couldn't stop the massive grin from happening on my face. "But, she always quiets down and looks at me with that smirk of hers when I enter the room. They're up to something."
"They're talking about you, you two," Neville placed his hands under his chin and propped his elbows on his legs and looked on at the people twirling about on their various wheeled rides. "Watch out, though. The other night I was upstairs and heard Ginny cry out something about a wedding. `When's the wedding?'-or something like that."
I let my elbows buckle, and I fell back into the soft, green grass. The sky had grown darker, the setting sun in the far horizon glowing a deep, dark red. The clouds had gone completely purple, matching the night creeping across the atmosphere. I closed my eyes with a smile. I breathed in and slowly let it out. I pictured in my mind Hermione, my beautiful, gorgeous woman, walking down the aisle with bouquet in hand. I stood at the front in my tuxedo, grinning from ear to ear, catching the bug from her as she peered on with that knowing smirk of hers. All of our friends watching us, peering at me, when I pulled back her veil and kissed her after saying, "I do".
***
"All right!…," Ginny called out in a near-yell. She and Hermione were in the kitchen. Ginny and Neville invited us over following the day at the skatepark to watch a movie and hang out. I was sprawled along one of their sofas while Neville sat on their other across from me and between a table. Hermione had been relaxing on me prior to Ginny making her get up to go in there with her. I didn't want to move a muscle. The concaved shape of Hermione still on me, I wished for her to come right back and be with me like before. I thought I'd jinx it if I fidgeted.
A variety of bowls of all forms and colours sat around the table in front of the television. Anything from candy, like M&M's and those pre-packaged, bite-sized bars to buttered popcorn and cheese puff balls lay within the containers. Butterbeer bottles littered amongst the bowls of junk food as well as Coke-Cola and Mountain Dew liters. Four red and white plastic cups sat around with ice melting away in them from the various beverages inside them.
Neville turned around in his seat, his arms over the back of his sofa. Ginny set a large plate of mini-pigs in blankets in Neville's hands and shook a blender of something red at me. I couldn't quite tell what it was in the light, the flash of the television the only thing illuminating the pitch room. I did see it slosh around and make an icy, cold sound.
"What are you boys talking about in here? Being all quiet and secretive…I want to know!" Ginny sat the blender down on the table. As she did so, Neville reached out and gripped her waist. He pulled her down on him on the sofa and pushed her back against the cushions. Ginny screamed into a laugh.
I looked up to see Hermione making her way towards me, her eyes rolling. She went to sit back down between my legs when Neville said aloud, "We were talking about how you women are always so slow!"
Ginny lightly popped his cheek, "Watch your mouth, young man! You'll get your food whenever we feel like feeding you!"
Hermione slid easily on me. A small portion of the sofa was exposed, my thighs becoming the seating's containment. She scooted backward and laid back, a new plastic cup in her hand. She took a drink, and I immediately smelled strawberry schnapps, a strong alcoholic puff of rum in the air. Her fingertips on the leading edge of the cup rim, she raised it for me and I grasped it firmly.
I glanced over at Neville attacking Ginny with his lips and made a tiny, yet exaggerated, gagging noise, "Let's keep it under PG-13 for the kids, eh?"
"Says the guy who just made out for a good fifteen minutes straight." Neville laughed and maneuvered back so he was seated again.
Ginny lay still for a moment, but gradually lifted, saying, "Yeah, you hypocrite-I thought I saw tongue, too! Talk about PG-13…If we weren't here, you'd probably go NC-17 or worse!"
I smiled at the television and peered down at Hermione who also smiled. Flashes of white, red, and blue hit her pale skin at the rate of the pulsating tube. A commercial streaked by at an incredible rate…something along the lines of a new way of cracking nuts. I didn't recall, my attention absorbed in Hermione who leaned out to grab a quilt at the end of our sofa. She pulled it over both of us whilst I took a drink of what I noticed had to be a strawberry daiquiri; the shredding, fine ice chunks melting right when they hit my warm tongue, mixing with the sweetness of the fresh, sanguine berry. The alcohol made me make a face, and I lowered the cup back to Hermione who retrieved it.
"And, who are you calling kids? We're all `underage' the last I counted." Ginny picked up a fresh cup from the stack of them, and then another. She poured the daiquiri into both, keeping one and giving the other to Neville behind her.
"You're the youngest, Gin," I chuckled, seeing her make a face and stick out her tongue. "Shouldn't you be in bed by now, anyway? It's nearly midnight young lady!" I wagged my finger.
Ginny shook her head and laughed. She leaned back into Neville. They weren't quite as low as Hermione and I, but they relaxed similarly; Neville's back against the armrest farthest from the television. "Harry…you wouldn't want us to go to bed right this second…"
Neville wrapped an arm around Ginny's chest while Ginny grabbed a quilt to put over them. Hermione held the cup up for me to take again after taking another swig. I grabbed it, watching her tilt to the side to grab a pig in a blanket. She blew on the miniature hot dog, cut down the centre and loaded with cheese. The cheese had melted out one side and oozed when she bit down. I grinned at her when she jerked her head to catch it from falling on us. She glanced back at me and grinned, raising the rest to feed me.
Hermione placed the rest of the bite in my mouth, and after I chewed, asked, "And why might that be?"
I heard Ginny make a low giggle and saw her peer up at Neville. He looked down at her, slid in and kissed her mouth. Ginny glanced over at me after their release and said with a grin, "Because you'd hear us from here to Number Twelve."
Neville burst out laughing, shaking Ginny around as his side began to hurt.
"Aww…," An image I wanted to get out of my mind of them two entered. I shook my head from side to side and started to play as if I were to about to vomit. I gagged. "TMI!"
Hermione repeated, her nose scrunched up, "TMI. TMI."
"All right, all right…," Neville repeated, his hand finding the remote on the table. He put his finger on play and asked, "Are we ready to start this again?" The DVD had been on pause while the girl's went to "go make something" when they really went in the kitchen to talk about us.
"Go!" Ginny urged. She grabbed the remote from Neville's hand and clicked the play button. She set it down and snuggled into Neville.
Hermione did the same. She wiggled around and found her sweet spot. I found mine while the movie played on the screen. Batman was in a car chase with Two-Face. He latched onto the side of a wall and began driving vertical, letting Two-Face and his thug's crash into brick. I heard Ginny laugh from my left ear, but I heard Hermione make a small-pitched moan under her breath. In her feline position, she'd stretched herself out like a cat; her head near my own, lying on my shoulder. She faced the television like I did.
Her shirt lifted from the bottom edge near her waist. My roaming hands under the quilt explored much of her torso, lingering on the softness of her abdomen. I felt her belly button and circled it with my fingers. I found my touch arouse her, making her fidget just a little to let me know she liked my massage.
I couldn't focus on the television any longer. I made her jump, ticklish she was. She laughed some through her nose, but kept her eyes on the screen. My hormones kicked into drive. My hands went farther down, my fingers hooking into the rim of her pants. I heard her take a sharp, but near-silent inhale; my fingers finding her hips and wanting to push on farther. It really took all of me to figure out where my brain went, and Hermione didn't help me at all. She raised her right arm and bent it back behind her head. I felt her hand go to the back of my head and pull me to her waiting lips. I squeezed my thighs together, squeezing her body between them. I slipped my hands around the brim of her pants to touch the beginning slope down to her ass.
I think I jumped ten feet in the air and wet myself, gone completely unaware of my surroundings thanks to Hermione's warm tongue. Ginny startled me, saying really loud and really fast, "What are you guys doing over there?!?!!!"
My heart leapt from my chest and I jerked my head to see where the noise came from. I saw Ginny laughing her head off, and then saw a pillow being heaved over at us. Hermione yanked the quilt over her head and I went to bow down into it. The pillow sailed and hit the top of my head. I grabbed it and tossed it back over the table. Neville swatted it down whilst his girl continued to snicker.
"Those are brand new coverings, you know," Neville winked. "I'd like to keep them that way for a week or two at least, if you know what I mean."
I tilted my head back from the quilt and laughed. I slid my arms around Hermione's chest and tightly held her. Her arms mimicked mine around her as she laid them side-by-side above mine. The flat portion of my forearm poked against a few buttons along Hermione's tailored shirt; the matte, black coloured tie still loose around her neck. She relaxed her bare feet against mine, playing footsie in our passionate soiree under the sheet.
"We weren't doing anything," I felt her hands begin to rub my arms. Two cylinder-shaped mounds moved horizontal, back and forth. Hermione leaned over and I heard her sift through her previous drink of cola to retrieve an ice cube. Maybe she was trying to cool off? I laughed. "Your sheet coverings are safe."
"My ass you weren't doing anything." Ginny snickered over at us. "Okay, if you were so involved in the movie, what just happened?"
"…Joker caught the girl?"
"Joker's not in this one…," Hermione whispered quick and only to me.
Ginny made a laugh her mother could hear all the way over in Devon. She let slip another, "…my ass you weren't messing around," before she said aloud, "And, you probably didn't hear what I was saying to Neville."
Hermione made circles with her finger nail along my arm while she exclaimed, "Well, out with it, Gin."
Ginny audibly sighed and cleared her throat, "…As I was saying…I was telling Neville how much you look like that Natalie Portman girl, `Mione. You know, from the new Star Wars movie that just came out-Queen Amidala."
"I do not," Hermione replied. She leaned over and grabbed a handful of M&M's. She placed some in her mouth and lifted her hand to me where I took half for my own taste-buds. "Natalie Portman is gorgeous."
"You're gorgeous," I poked Hermione's bare tummy with my free hand. Her shirt was still pulled up to her ribs beneath the quilt. "And, Ginny's right. Especially, the eyes and hair. Your whole face, really."
"Ginny's always right," proclaimed Ginny, giving herself a pat on the shoulder. "Aren't I, babe?"
"You do have a certain resemblance to her, Hermione," Neville nodded along with his lover. "You'd have made a better Amidala, too."
Hermione smirked and rolled her eyes. She motioned toward the television with her head, a few M&Ms in her mouth, "Well, I think you look like Nicole Kidman right there. With Val Kilmer and everything."
Ginny's eyes widened and she busted out laughing. She kicked her feet beneath their quilt. "Yeah! Yeah-okay, right. I'm sure!"
"A younger Kidman, Gin, yeah," Neville shook his head in agreement. "I can see it."
"Psh. If we were all drunk, maybe. Nicole Kidman is a sex symbol," Ginny shook her head opposite of Neville, and exaggerated it. "I am no sex symbol."
"You're pretty damn sexy to me," stated Neville looking Ginny right in the eyes.
"You're beautiful, Gin," announced Hermione, wiping her hands together. She'd finished the seven or so M&Ms. "Get over it."
"You're gorgeous, `Mione," Ginny retorted. "Get over it."
"Beautiful," sang out Hermione, snuggling back into me.
"Gorgeous with a capital `G'," rang out Ginny, feeling for Neville's hand in the flashing lights. "So, shut it before I come over there and smack ya."
Hermione placed her hand inside her soda cup and fished out another ice cube. Carefully watching Ginny from the corner of her eye, she slid right back to me and nonchalantly threw the frozen block over at Ginny. Ginny became wired, her hands and feet flying through the air, knocking her quilt and all off her. Apparently, Hermione's aim was perfect as Ginny stood up and started sifting through her shirt until the melting ice fell out the bottom. She glared up at Hermione, a flash of a smirk evident by the stroboscopic television light.
"You!" Ginny pointed at Hermione and leaped clear over to us.
Hermione screamed into a giggle and immediately dove into me, drawing the quilt over her fast. It wasn't but a second until I had Hermione and Ginny on me, Ginny trying to extract Hermione from her hiding spot. I looked over at Neville who roared with laughter as I fought to get away, stuck in-between. I eventually slid out from the cat-fight ball, the quilt getting a thrashing each time one of them would hit the other with it. Pillows got involved, and Ginny finally submitted after being bonked.
"White flag! White flag!" Ginny lay on her back where I used to be, waving her hands at Hermione who had raised her pillow for another onslaught.
Neville and I applauded from our perch on the other sofa. Who needed a movie? I laughed, Hermione bowing towards the two of us theatrically. She had settled herself on Ginny, sitting on her, when Ginny grabbed her around the neck and pulled her down. Hermione caught herself on the sofa whilst Ginny gave her a bear hug. She kept her eyes on me, and laughed through her nose. Her face scrunched up when Ginny gave her a long kiss on the cheek.
I ended back where I fled from, lying on the sofa to the right of the television with my personal feline creature draped across my figure. The night grew late, early morning it became. The movie was done and over with. Between the Late Show and the Late Late Show, Hermione turned over and snuggled into me, her head on my chest. I wrapped us back in the quilt, and didn't have to go far to feel the bare skin of her back. I'd been making her purr, stroking her tummy while she relaxed; a wanton need to unbutton the last few buttons of her shirt and find the softness beneath.
I lifted when she wanted to slip her hands around, her arms going between the pillow on the armrest and myself. She had her face, her brunette locks a darkened portiere above my heart, on my shoulder. Without opening her eyes, we caressed each other's lips. The pads of my fingers sunk into her back, and I responded to her kiss with a pleasurable noise of happiness. Thankfully, Ginny was out cold on Neville or I wouldn't have heard the last of it.
When I broke away from her, I left her in a smile. She had her head still, raised, and bit at her bottom lip. I couldn't stand it, needing to feel her lips once more, if only for a brief second. I then followed up by caressing the tip of her nose, between her closed eyelids, and her forehead. I heard her sigh, a prickly chill crawling up my spine by her revelry. She slipped right back against me with that grin. I watched my breathtaking beauty drift silently to sleep.
{Inspirations for the Chapter: Most of the fic I had Bob Dylan on loop. Knocking on Heaven's Door became very influential. I think the song is rather sexy in its own right. For the skatepark scene, I went back to The Scientist by Coldplay}
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