Disclaimer: All things pertaining to Harry Potter are the property of J. K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Books/Scholastic Press and Warner Bros. I just like to play with them!
A/N: Okay, don't shoot me. I am currently working on the next chapter of The Surrogate. I actually wrote the majority of this fic before I even started writing Astoria's Secret and I just needed to iron out a few details. Hopefully, this will tide you over until I'm ready to update The Surrogate - please review and let me know what you think...
I solemnly swear that I am up to no good...
***
Hermione Granger was full of surprises.
And never more so than the night Harry Potter graduated from Hogwarts.
It was a strange night for a lot of reasons - mainly because he never thought he'd live to see it. He wasn't a fatalist, but he'd begun to think there was only so many times one could escape death at the hands of a powerful Dark wizard whose raison d'être was to end his life.
And yet here he was. Voldemort was dead and he'd survived once again. Of course the war had not been without losses - his heart constricted as always when he thought about his parents and Sirius, imagining how the ceremony earlier would have been different if they'd been there to see it.
He'd graduated with five N.E.W.T.s, `Exceeds Expectations' in Potions, Charms, Transfiguration and Herbology and of course `Outstanding' in Defence Against the Dark Arts. And in two weeks time, he would begin the Auror training program. He would also be living with Ron and Hermione - when Ron had been recruited by the Cannons and Hermione learnt she'd succeeded in getting a highly-sought-after assistant's position in the Department of Mysteries, Harry had immediately suggested they get a flat together in London.
Tomorrow was the start of the rest of his life, but for tonight, he would enjoy his last few hours of being a student, with his friends and free-flowing Firewhiskey.
A post-graduation party had been held in the Gryffindor common room and for the first time, students from other houses were permitted entrance to join in the festivities. Nobody from Slytherin had turned up though, thankfully - Harry didn't want this night ruined by the likes of Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle.
His musings were suddenly interrupted by Hermione dropping onto the sofa next to him, giggling as she brought a bottle of Firewhiskey to her lips.
"I think I'm a little drunk," she said with another giggle.
The thought of Hermione drunk was rather amusing. She was always so sensible that he found it hard to imagine her letting her hair down.
Harry grinned. "I think someone else is way ahead of you," he said with a nod towards the armchair, where Ron was passed out, snoring loudly.
Hermione rolled her eyes as she took another sip. "I can't believe this is our last night here. I'm gonna miss this place."
"So you're going to miss the library, right?"
"Funny, Potter." She stood up, wobbling slightly and held up out her hand. "Come on, let's go for a walk."
Harry frowned. "A walk?"
"Why not? It's not like you're going to miss out on a sparkling conversation with Ronald."
With a low chuckle, Harry took her hand and they escaped through the portrait hole. The Fat Lady wasn't in her frame - probably off having a few post-graduation drinks with Violet...as if she needed an excuse. On any other night, Harry would have suggested taking his invisibility cloak, since it was well past curfew and but as it was their last night, there was little that Filch could do if he caught them, especially since Hermione was Head Girl.
Taking occasional swigs of Firewhiskey, they made their way down to the entrance hall and slipped out the front doors and into the grounds. It was past midnight and still dark, but there was a full moon and the air was warm and humid. They ambled down the lawn towards the lake and slumped down under the beech tree.
Harry took another drink from the bottle and passed it back to Hermione. "I saw Ginny earlier. With Dean. She looks a lot happier."
He and Ginny had resumed their relationship after the war, but it hadn't been the same. The war had taken a lot out of him and it took a long time for him to feel free of the burden of being the Chosen One. And when he finally began looking to his future, he found that his feelings for Ginny had waned. He still cared for her, as he did the rest of her family, but the spark had gone. He'd wondered then if maybe the passion he'd experienced with her was heightened by the constant feeling of being on borrowed time in the face of the ticking time bomb that was Voldemort. He'd hated the thought of hurting her, but he refused to string her along and during the Christmas break, which he'd spent at the Burrow, he'd ended their relationship.
Hermione looked at him. "I think she is. The break up hurt her a lot - it took her a long time to get over you."
"I guess being a good boyfriend isn't one of my natural abilities. Give me another Dark wizard any day. I mean, maybe Voldemort has a cousin..."
Hermione giggled again. "Well, I can hardly claim success in that area, can I? I mean, how much of the three months that Ron and I were together did we spend not arguing?"
"Oh, about forty eight hours."
Harry grinned and moving his arms behind his head, he lay down and closed his eyes, enjoying spending some time alone with Hermione. He liked the fact that they could sit together and be completely comfortable with each other, despite being of the opposite sex. She was like the sister he'd never had the chance to have.
"Harry, do you think I'm predictable?"
Harry opened his eyes at her question. "What?"
"Do you think I'm predictable?" She repeated her question. "You know boring, conventional, safe? That's how most people see me, isn't it?"
"I thought you were too smart to care what other people think?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "That's not an answer. Come on, Harry, I'm Hermione Granger, bookworm, Head Girl, top of my class. I sometimes wish I was a bit more like you or Ron - breaking rules, having fun."
"You've broken plenty of rules," he answered, counting them off on his fingers. "Hunting the Philosopher's Stone, brewing Polyjuice Potion, helping Sirius escape. Dumbledore's Army."
"Harry, every one of those was for the greater good and they were all planned and carefully considered, well, except maybe Sirius' escape. The point is I've never broken a single rule on a whim or done anything spontaneous."
"Then why don't you?" At Hermione's questioning look, he pulled out Fabian Prewett's old watch. "I mean, there's still a good couple of hours until sunrise. I think you should make the most of your final night of being a student...and a Hogwarts Head Girl...and do something really outrageous."
Hermione smiled, a sly little grin that Malfoy would have been proud of, and stood up, bringing the bottle to her lips and draining the contents in a series of mouthfuls. Evidently not a drinker, she coughed slightly afterwards, before dropping the empty bottle at Harry's feet.
"Close your eyes and count to twenty...slowly," she said.
Harry frowned slightly at her command but complied nonetheless, closing his eyes and smiling as he counted, wondering what his goody-two-shoes best friend was going to do.
But before he had finished counting, Harry heard a splash and opened his eyes in time to see Hermione resurface in the lake. Her clothes lay in a pile and he realised, the thought making his stomach jolt, that she was naked.
He laughed nervously. "Uh, H-Hermione..."
She giggled again and he was surprised to feel his cock twitch inside his jeans.
"Not so predictable now, huh?"
He cleared his throat. "No...no...definitely not..."
"Well, don't just sit there...come on in. The water's lovely..."
The fact that up until now, the notion of Hermione hiding female parts beneath her clothes had barely entered his mind, simply made the knowledge that said female parts were only currently being concealed by five feet of water all the more arousing. And if the sudden tightness of his jeans was any indication, the thought of being up close and personal with a naked Hermione was enough to send that arousal skyrocketing.
Unfortunately it would also mean exposing the obvious result of his desire to his currently oblivious best friend.
He ran a hand through his already untidy hair. "Uh...I don't think...that is..."
"Why so shy, Harry?" Hermione's now familiar giggle made another escape. "Oh, come on...it's not like I'm gonna see anything if that's what you're worried about. Look, I promise to cover my eyes."
As she brought her hands up to do so, his eyes were drawn to the water lapping at the swell of her breasts and any blood remaining in his brain rushed southward. Before he could change his mind, Harry quickly stood up, pulled off his clothes and after casting a quick Impervius Charm to protect his glasses from the water, he climbed up onto one of the rocks that skirted the lake and dived into the water.
The water was only slightly cooler than the air and so did little to dampen his ardour. As he resurfaced next to Hermione, he looked at her, really looked at her for the first time.
Merlin, but she was gorgeous. How come he'd never noticed before? Her sandy brown hair had lost its customary bushiness in the last couple of years, and now framed her heart-shaped face in a halo of wet curls. Her eyes were like pools of chocolate with tiny pearls of water balancing on her long lashes. Her lips were full and soft and looked made for kissing. The areas of her skin that was visible to him were smooth and slightly tanned from warm days spent in these very grounds studying for her N.E.W.T.s.
When he realised he was staring, he tried to school his expression into one of lazy nonchalance, but must have been unsuccessful because she let loose another of those damn giggles and with a flick of her hand sent a wave of water crashing over him.
Pushing his wet hair off of his face, he narrowed his eyes at her, which spurred her on to send even more water in his direction, giggling as she did so. In retaliation, he swung his arm around to send a large wave over her and moments later they were engaged in watery warfare, until Hermione suddenly lost her footing and slipped, grabbing hold of Harry's shoulders to save herself and landing against him, naked skin meeting naked skin and his still hard cock pressing into her stomach.
Harry felt his face burn with mortification and cursed his unruly flesh - he had hardly tackled the issue of his sudden attraction to Hermione, without inadvertently making her aware of the fact also. Now he would be forced to reveal to his best friend of seven years that he wanted to do ungodly things to her.
"Hermione, I..."
Hermione reached up and pressed a finger to his lips, stopping his words and Harry suddenly realised that a smile was playing at the corners of her mouth. Then cupping his face in her hands, she reached up and kissed him.
The feel of her lips on his was a strange sensation, mainly, he supposed, because he'd never imagined he would ever experience it. Strange, yes. Unpleasant, definitely...very definitely not.
The kiss only lasted a matter of seconds before Hermione pulled away. Slowly opening his eyes, Harry looked at her. She was still wearing that little half smile and without a moment's hesitation, he pulled her back into his arms and kissed her.
When he felt Hermione's tongue brush against his own, he slanted his mouth across hers, engaging her tongue in an age-old dance and burying his hands in her wet curls. She pressed her body against his and he groaned at the feel of her bare breasts against his chest.
When he pulled back, his green eyes met her brown ones as he tried to comprehend the enormity of what had just occurred.
"I've wanted to do that for ages," she whispered, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
"Really?" he asked, looking rather dumbfounded by her admission.
The smile returned as she nodded. "Mmm hmm."
"Well, I guess you, uh, succeeded in your mission, cause I would never have, uh, predicted that."
"Good," she said, before closing the few inches between them and brushing her lips against his. "But I'm not finished yet..."
With a splash, she turned and began swimming towards the shore. Harry's eyes, which had slid closed again at the touch of her lips, snapped open. When she stopped swimming and turned around to look at him still standing there, he saw that the water only came up to her waist and his eyes glazed over at the sight of her breasts, rivulets of water running down over them and the slight chill that had recently developed in the air causing her nipples to harden. They were incredible - not too big, not too small; the perfect handful - and his hands itched to touch them.
Tilting her head to the side, she threw him a look that shot straight to his groin.
"Are you coming?"
He barely noticed her double entendre, as he began eagerly treading water to get closer to where she stood waiting for him. But when he was almost at her side, she turned around again and continued moving towards the shore, the water revealing more of her naked body with each step - including her peach of a bottom and her slender, toned legs.
When she was out of the water, she picked up her wand and pointed it at the grass beneath the beech tree, transfiguring it into a soft blanket. Laying down on it, she lifted herself up on her elbows and waited for Harry to join her. When he did, his eyes swept over her, the of sight of laying there naked making him harder than he could ever remember being.
Who would have thought that smart, sensible, Hermione Granger was hiding the body of a goddess under her respectable clothes? His eyes darted to the area between her legs and if possible he grew even harder. Even if he had seen a naked girl before, he would have thought she was perfect.
He barely had time to commit the image she created to memory, before Hermione brought her fingers up and began to explore his chest, tracing her fingertips over his muscles and making him suck in a breath when she came dangerously close to the part of his anatomy that most desired her touch. Following her example, he gave into the urge to touch her, his hand curling around one perfect pink-tipped breast and making Hermione gasp when he brushed his thumb over her nipple.
Thankfully, they were well hidden from the view of the inhabitants of the castle - not that he would have really wanted to stop if they were. And it was unlikely that anyone would venture out now, given that it was after midnight and most of the teachers and younger students would be asleep, while the majority of the seventh year students were either asleep or passed out.
As he alternated between softly kneading her breast and rubbing her nipple back and forth, she reached up to kiss him again, hooking her arm around his neck and pulling him back down with her so that he was almost covering her, his knee resting between hers and his cock pressing against her thigh.
If someone had told him earlier today that he would be lying naked on a blanket beneath the beech tree with his best friend - his best female friend that is; he definitely didn't want to imagine being in this position with Ron - he would have thought them mad. Yet here he was, kissing her and touching her.
But he wanted to do more than just kiss her and touch her breasts - he wanted to explore every inch of her. But he was a bit wary of taking things too far, too fast. Hermione had up to now encouraged his touch without hesitation and yet it was less than an hour since they shared their first kiss.
When he became aware of the almost imperceptible rise and fall of her hips, he was spurred on by the realisation that she was trying to tell him she too wanted more. Determined to stop if she hesitated for even a second, his hand left her breast and slowly moved down her body, until he was rubbing his thumb along her hipbone. But when he didn't drift any further south, she pulled back from his mouth and kissed along the line of his jaw to his ear.
"Please..." she whispered.
Her plea settled any doubts on his part, although his first touch was tentative. His previous experience was minimal and he had only ever got as far as touching Ginny's breasts over her shirt during particularly heavy kissing sessions. Part of him wished he was more experienced, because he desperately wanted to make this good for Hermione and he didn't to ruin this stolen moment with his clumsiness.
As he trailed his fingers up her inner thigh, her legs parted slightly and he slid his hand between them.
She felt incredible, hot and slippery wet. As he explored her intimately, he silently glorified in every moan that escaped her mouth and even more in the way she gasped and her whole body jerked when he discovered her most sensitive spot. He slid a finger inside her and felt her muscles grip him. She was so tight. He began slowly moving his finger in and out while rubbing his thumb back and forth over her clit, causing her juices to flow more freely. When he added a second finger, her body began to rock against his hand and the knowledge that he was giving her pleasure took his arousal to a whole new level.
Pressing a brief kiss to her lips, he slid his mouth to her neck, sucking on her pulse point and then made his way down to her breasts, taking one nipple into his mouth, before pulling back to circle the hard point with his tongue. Moving to give the same treatment to her other nipple, he brought his spare hand up to play with the one he'd left and her back arched, pushing her breasts closer to him.
"Harry...I want you," she moaned, the leg that lay between his shifting so that her thigh rubbed against his hard cock.
His hand stilled and his eyes widened at her declaration. She couldn't possibly be saying what he thought she was saying, could she? He was pretty sure Hermione was still a virgin (the thought that she might have done it with Krum made his stomach crawl with jealousy), as was he. Everything that had happened so far paled in comparison to the thought of being inside Hermione. But it was also a rather scary prospect. He'd gone further with her than he had with anyone and although he hadn't known exactly what he was doing, he'd relied on a combination of instinct and tips he'd picked up from late night talks with his dormmates. But when it came to going all the way, he hadn't a clue - he was going in blind. And he hated the thought that he might disappoint her, especially if it was her first time - she deserved better than a fumbling idiot.
"Hermione...are-are you sure?" Her thigh was still rubbing against him making it difficult for him to think. "I mean...I've never..."
The look on her face was a mixture of desire and shyness that Harry thought was incredibly sexy.
"I haven't either. But I want you...I want you to be my first."
For all his fear, Harry felt a wave of warmth spread through his body at the thought that Hermione wanted him to be a part of something so important. Even so he'd heard that the first time for a girl could be quite painful and he desperately didn't want to hurt her.
"Just go slow, ok," she whispered and he felt a little better knowing he wasn't the only one who was nervous about what they were about to do.
Reaching for her wand, she waved it over her belly with a whispered incantation, which Harry knew to be the contraception charm that all students in their sixth year were taught by the Head Boy or Head Girl.
Kissing her, he slid his hand down to briefly tease her nipple and then further to curl around her hip. With his other hand, he took hold of himself and pressed against her wet entrance, sliding in a couple of centimetres. He continued gradually moving deeper until he met resistance and realised that this was the point of no return.
Her hand gripped his arm and taking her other hand in his, he kept his eyes locked with hers and pushed forward, breaking the barrier and eliciting a sharp cry from Hermione, who squeezed her eyes shut.
He stopped moving, knowing he'd hurt her and feeling terrible. He reached out his hands to stop the tears that were leaking out of the corners of her eyes.
"Oh, Mione, I'm sorry..."
She squeezed his hand. "I'm...I'm ok. Just give me a minute."
He gritted his teeth. She felt so amazing surrounding him, all hot and wet and tight, and all his bodily urges were yelling at him to move, but the most important thing to him right now was that he didn't hurt her anymore than he already had. Several moments later during which he had to imagine Snape kissing Filch in order to control himself, Hermione began to shift her hips slightly, which Harry took to mean the pain had receded. He tentatively withdrew and thrust back in, unprepared both for the wave of pleasure that overwhelmed him and the response he got from Hermione. She began moving her hips to meet his thrusts, her breathing quickening and her eyes slightly shut. She was moaning again, and digging her fingernails into his back, every thrust seemingly hitting a particularly sensitive spot inside her. She also became more vocal, voicing her pleasure in a breathless voice that pushed him ever closer to the brink.
"Please, Harry...oh Merlin, please..."
He knew he wouldn't be able to hold on much longer - he could feel the pulsing begin at the base of his spine. He wanted her to come first and knowing she was close, he slid his hand between them to thumb her clit in a rapid motion. Her moans turned to gasps and then to cries and her legs began to shake even more than before. With a particularly hard thrust, her hips lifted off the bed, her muscles clamped around him so tight that he thought she'd cut off his circulation and her mouth opened on a silent scream, before her body broke beneath him, quivering helplessly and he followed her over the edge, coming inside her and collapsing on top of her.
After rolling off of her, he laid beside her trying to catch his breath, feeling as though his body had been poleaxed, before turning to look at Hermione. Her eyes were still closed and her skin had a post-orgasmic glow - he'd never seen anything so beautiful in all his life. He couldn't stop his hand from reaching out and pushing a lock of hair away from her face.
Her eyes snapped open and her mouth curved in a satisfied smile.
"Well, that was...uh..."
"I think `wow' is the word that springs to mind," Harry said, his grin matching hers.
"Really, really wow."
Slipping an arm around her waist, he pulled her back against him and settled her in the crook of his arm. Taking her hand in his, he threaded his fingers through hers, before bringing them to his lips and brushing his mouth over her knuckles. They laid there in silence for several moments until their breathing slowed, still comfortable with one another, even though they were still naked and they now both had a very intimate knowledge of the other.
"So, uh, you know you said earlier that you'd wanted to kiss me for ages...I was kind of curious as to how long?"
She was drawing lazy patterns on his chest. "Um, well, its rather rather hard to pinpoint an exact moment when my feelings changed from Harry
being strictly platonic. Maybe they've been there all along. I mean, I did have a ridiculous crush on you on our first and second years."
"Oh, yeah?" he enquired with a chuckle. "What turned you on the most - my skinny runt body, my dodgy haircut or my squeaky voice?"
She gave an answering laugh, but her expression with sincere. "All of it. Everything about you. This may sound totally corny and Ron would probably hate me if he heard me say it, but you've always been the best of men, Harry. If we hadn't been friends these past seven years, if it hadn't been for that troll on Halloween during first year, I know I would have most definitely missed out."
"On what? `101 Best Ways To Try And Kill Harry Potter' by Mr T Riddle?"
Hermione smiled. "I didn't say it wasn't an eventful seven years of friendship. And anyway, I was kind of hoping that maybe after tonight, there might be more than just friendship in our future."
She might have been the first to mention what tonight represented for them as friends, but it had been at the back of his mind ever since he'd realised she was naked in the water.
"I think," he said, knowing that now he'd held her in his arms, it would be impossible to go back to the innocence of friendship, "that after tonight, that's a very distinct probability."
She pressed a kiss to his jaw. "You know, I still have my own dormitory for another couple of hours..."
Harry grinned. "I like the way you think, Hermione Granger."
Moving out of each other's embrace, the pair quickly located their clothes and pulled them on and once dressed, Hermione waved her wand over the blanket and it returned to being grass.
"You know," she said, noticing the first rays of sunlight creeping over the horizon. "It's almost dawn. We may have more of a problem sneaking back into the castle than we had sneaking out."
"Well," Harry answered, glancing towards the east. "Don't freak out, but your dorm's at the very top of Gryffindor Tower, right? Now, I happen to know a thing or two about flying and I seem to remember someone teaching me a very useful spell in fourth year."
"Oh, Harry, I don't know...you know how I feel about flying."
He slipped his hands into hers, before trailing them up her arms and down again. "I'll go slow and I promise I won't let go of you. What happened to my girl wanting to be spontaneous, huh?"
His reasoning soon weakened her resolve and she finally nodded, before watching him lifting his wand and saying `Accio Firebolt'.
Moments later, his treasured broomstick came sailing through the air and stopped beside them, hovering. After helping her to get settled, he climbed on behind her and wrapped his arms around her, loving the way she snuggled back against him, while holding onto him with an iron grip. Kicking back, they rose off the ground and Harry began to steer them in the direction of Gryffindor Tower.
After seven years of friendship, he would have wagered he knew pretty much everything about Hermione Granger. But after all that had happened tonight, it was clear that she still had the ability to surprise him - and he couldn't be happier about it.
As the pair circled the castle turrets and battlements, they were spotted by two friends and colleagues enjoying a late night game of Wizard's Chess.
"Well, well," the aged yet sprightly headmaster remarked. "It would appear that I was right all along.
"Barely," grumbled the Transfiguration professor, through a hint of a smile could be detected on her lips.
Dumbledore chuckled. "No need for sour grapes, Minerva. I said the pair would realise their true feelings before they left Hogwarts and they haven't left yet - I won the bet fair and square."
"Okay, okay, I concede," McGonagall said with an exaggerated sigh. "Twenty Galleons, wasn't it?"
Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles. "And a bag of sherbet lemons."
***
Mischief managed!
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