Chapter 25
Chapter Text
"I think I love you!"
Okay. He said it.
The ceiling of Hagrid's hut did not collapse on their heads, and even the flames of the numerous candles, slowly melting in the corners of the room, did not waver, continuing to burn as evenly and warmly as before Harry threw his long-cherished confession at Hermione's feet and froze on the spot, anxiously and hopefully awaiting her reaction.
"Harry..."
"You don't have to answer me right now!" He interrupted hastily. "I know this is all very sudden, and you've always only treated me as a friend, so I'll understand if you..."
"Harry, I really like you too."
"Huh?" Potter stared at the girl, his eyes wide.
"She just said what I thought she said?! "
"I like you!" Hermione repeated, louder. Her cheeks were flushed, but her gorgeous brown eyes were steady and fearless as she looked at Harry. The time for silence and innuendo was over. Today, they were both going to tell each other the truth.
"Oh... that's... that's... Wow!"
"Quite a while, actually. I just never really thought about it before… You know, I'm not the most romantic person in the world," she chuckled with self-irony. "But now I think I've always admired you a little bit."
"Admired? You're saying about… The Boy Who Lived?" Harry was really trying to figure out what exactly she meant now.
"Did Hermione fall for all this "heroic" crap like the rest of them? No, she couldn't… She never acted like a fangirl around me. But then again, she was crazy about that idiot Lockhart all summer..."
"Not exactly. Of course, I was impressed by that person and I mistakenly projected him onto you at first, but that was before I got to know the real you – Harry Potter, not the character from the books." She looked at him warmly, causing Harry's heart to instantly melt.
He just wanted to clarify a few more points, just to be completely sure that he had indeed heard everything correctly.
"And you think… I'm better than him?" Potter asked cautiously. "Than the Boy Who Lived you read about?"
In fact, he had wanted to ask her that for a long time. He had never read those books himself, and doubted that he would ever willingly read anything that contained even the slightest hint about his biography. He was not interested in the opinion of some scribblers who had never even met him, but he really wanted to know what Hermione thought of him.
"Absolutely!" Hermione even nodded vigorously several times in confirmation. "I mean, he's cool, and powerful, and all, but... you're you, Harry. And that's why I like you so much! That's why almost everyone likes you, to be honest. I don't know if you realize it or not, but a lot of people admire you, and not just because you're the Boy Who Lived. You're a really good person and an even better friend. And you truly are a hero – a real one, not a made-up one! I think... no, I'm sure that if we were a few years older, I would definitely fall in love with you."
"But now you…"
"I don't know. Like you said, it's only been a few weeks. I guess we'll just have to wait and see what happens." She gave him one of her little smiles, checking to see if he was too upset by her statement. The last thing she wanted was to hurt his feelings, so she tried to convey her thoughts as delicately as possible.
"Well... at least she was honest."
"Yes. You're probably right," Harry smiled back at the girl a little tensely, trying to hide from her that, despite his own previous words about everything being fine, he was still a little disappointed.
But what else could he expect, anyway? Hermione said it right. A month ago, they were just friends, and even Harry himself had never thought of his best friend in that way. Hell, he had never thought of anyone in that way, and he wasn't even planning on starting in the next few years! It wasn't Hermione's fault that he had fallen in love with her so suddenly and so quickly, and she hadn't fallen in love with him back...
"Don't be a greedy fool, Potter! Hermione is already married to you and is going to bear you children until the end of times! What else do you want from her? For her to immediately fall into your arms and swear eternal love?"
And yet, if he was being completely honest with himself, that was exactly what Harry whished. He knew perfectly well that he was indeed being too greedy right now, but he just couldn't stop wanting Hermione to look at him with the same hearts in her eyes that he did at her. He wanted her to desire him as much as he desired her.
"Well, go and win her love then! Don't just sit here like a statue and whine! Do you want her to love you back? Do something for it!"
Unable to stick around in this smoky hut any longer with an overfull stomach and an emotional whirlwind in his head, Harry resolutely rose from the table. Walking over to the coat rack near the fireplace, he grabbed his and Hermione's outerwear, which had already managed to dry completely, and handed the girl her coat and scarf.
"Let's go for a walk?"
"What? In such a blizzard?"
"Oh..." he froze with one hand in his sleeve, and also looked out the window, where it was indeed still snowing heavily. "Right. I forgot about that..."
"Damn."
"How fortunate, then, that I know the Repulsion Charm, isn't it?" Hermione smirked at him a little smugly and pulled out her wand.
"Wait a minute... You know the Repulsion Charm?!"
"Yep."
"But when did you manage to learn them?! Wait! Don't tell... Better explain, why didn't you use it two hours ago? We could have gotten here normally instead of getting wet in the snowdrifts!"
"Uh..."
"Typical Hermione. Knows a bunch of useful spells, but when it comes to using them in practice..." Harry chuckled quietly, looking at the confused face of his friend, who at that moment was casting an invisible "umbrella" charm on both of them, which could successfully protect them from the bad weather outside.
They both really needed to clear their heads right now, so a walk in the fresh air was ideal, even if they had to trudge through a snowy field. Besides, there was still plenty of time left in the day, and Harry wasn't going to waste a single minute.
As a Seeker, he was used to focusing on his goal, no matter how distant and difficult it seemed and no matter what obstacles stood in his way. Few people knew, but sometimes he could be very stubborn and persistent if it concerned something he really wanted.
Right now, more than anything in the world, he wanted Hermione. He wanted her love. He wanted to be with her.
Finally seeing a clear goal in front of him, he was not going to retreat from it at all, because the reward was worth it. He was ready to fight for Hermione, even if it took years! In any case, they both had nowhere to go – "thanks" to the magical contract, may it be damned...
Grabbing a thermos of hot tea and some snacks, Harry followed Hermione outside, closing the door tightly behind him to keep the frost out. They might come back later, and even if they didn't, there was no point in making Hagrid's house cold.
* * *
The Repulsion Charms and light Warming Charms Hermione had cast on their clothes and boots had been so effective that they could now walk along the edge of the woods without fear of turning into a pair of ice statues and freezing to death. The waist-deep snowdrifts were still a bit of a nuisance, but there were clearing spells for them, familiar to any first-year Hogwarts student thanks to the harsh local winters.
Actively casting spells left and right, Harry and Hermione slowly moved forward without any particular goal, simply enjoying the fresh air and fast walking, which perfectly contributed to two goals: accelerated digestion and putting thoughts in order.
At some point, this routine became boring, and Harry, in a burst of inspiration, began to give the snow thrown aside various shapes: funny little people, stars, various magical and ordinary animals... Most often, for some reason, he ended up with fat, big-faced cats, suspiciously reminiscent of Mrs. Figg's pets, but he tried not to think about it too much, because the subconscious is a strange thing in general.
"Harry, that's amazing!" Hermione praised, with genuine admiration in her voice (there was probably also a bit of envy of his natural abilities, but mostly admiration). She even clapped her hands when the boy created a very realistic copy of Hedwig, then lifted it into the air and made it fly several circles above their heads before it crumbled into snow dust again.
"Thanks," he said, his cheeks turning slightly pink, very pleased that he had managed to impress her.
"I think you have a real talent for transfiguration and charms! Why do you almost never show it in class?"
Harry shrugged:
"I don't know. It all just seems so boring in class..."
He made the snow take the shape of giant flower buds, effortlessly reproducing from memory the plants he had been weeding in aunt Petunia's garden for the past six years.
"All these snuffboxes, salt shakers and vases... ugh... I just don't see much point in it, you know? Or teapots made of frogs? In what situation would I need to turn a frog into a teapot?!"
"I agree, it seems rather strange and not very rational in itself. But we still need to know it to understand the basics of transfiguration before we can move on to more complex things!"
"But why can't we move on to something more practical? For example, I wouldn't mind learning how to transfigure boots out of anything, or food out of anything..."
"First of all, no one can Transfigure food, Harry. Where were you when Professor McGonagall explained that to us in our first lesson?" Hermione was now looking at him with genuine indignation, astonished that he could somehow have missed this basic point. "Even the Founders couldn't do that! No one can permanently turn one thing into another. Some say, Merlin was the only one who managed to do this somehow, but this is just a legend."
"Oh… Okay then. But what about the boots?"
"It is doable, but it is still much more difficult than transfiguring a frog into a teapot, if only because the effect must last much longer. In order for the transformed object not to collapse and return to its original form after a few minutes, it is necessary to violate the physical laws of conservation of mass and energy, and this will require, first of all, a colossal amount of magical power and…"
"Boooooring…"
A few more waves of the wand – and several more snowy peonies, roses and violets rose into the air, swirling with the gusty currents of wind.
"But, Harry, how can you not understand, this is the main principle!.."
Arguing good-naturedly about what was more important – magical theory or practice, a logical understanding of witchcraft or simply the intention to perform magic miracle, they continued to walk steadily between the hills until the sky in the west began to gradually clear more and more, and the snowstorm began to subside, first turning from large flakes to small ones, and then stopping altogether. The low winter sun had already crossed the zenith and was now leaning more and more toward the horizon, painting the snow-covered tops of the Forbidden Forest in bright orange and crimson colors.
Hermione continued to chatter enthusiastically about Transfiguration and Muggle quantum physics, and how magic, to varying degrees, violated each of the three laws of thermodynamics… Harry mostly just listened to her, occasionally interjecting comments or questions when he disagreed with her about something or when he found something new and interesting for himself.
Surprisingly, it wasn't really so boring... well, maybe a little bit, since long scientific discussions weren't exactly how Harry usually preferred to spend his free time. Even when he lost the thread of his super-smart friend's long-winded musings (which happened quite often, because Hermione was literally gushing with ideas, so she kept jumping from topic to topic, using increasingly complex terms that Harry often didn't understand), he could simply enjoy her voice and her presence.
"But why have we never walked like this before?" he was now genuinely perplexed about this.
Walking next to Hermione, just the two of them, listening to her non-stop, joyful chirping about some "vacuum fluctuations," "magical local areas of low entropy," and "Heisenberg's uncertainty principle," was like listening to birds singing – completely incomprehensible, but very pleasant and relaxing.
In the heat of the moment, Hermione spoke for both of them at once and asked absolutely nothing from her interlocutor, except for the opportunity to speak her mind to her heart's content, finally dumping her years of accumulated knowledge and theories about everything in the world onto someone. As for Harry, he was not at all against being her free ears, because, firstly, it did not bother him at all, and secondly, it did not require anything from him except nodding in the right places.
"How could I ever think of her as a boring nerd? Well, yes, she is a nerd... But now I find it kind of cute. It's so weird... And she actually seems to know what she's talking about! She really cares about all this stuff. She'll probably discover some cool scientific thing and be famous before she even graduates! She's so awesome !"
Maybe he hadn't really noticed before how funny and pretty Hermione was in her own charming, nerdy way... Or he just looked at her a little differently now because he was head over heels in love with her... Or maybe they just weren't as different as they seemed.
Both were introverts by nature and preferred solitude and silence to a noisy crowd. Both loved to read, although a little (a lot) in different proportions... Of course, he was very far from Hermione, who literally idolized every printed word she came across, sometimes to the point of complete absurdity (for example, she still seriously believed everything that was written, and therefore it was sometimes very difficult to argue with her), but Harry could understand her love for reading a wide variety of literature. Unlike Ron, who had read "Quidditch Through the Ages" to pieces but refused to open anything else, Harry still sometimes missed his old books about space pirates and adventures in distant lands and galaxies. Now he would not refuse to reread Tolkien or Lewis, if only to compare fictional magic with real magic...
Although Harry had never been and would never be as fanatical a bookworm as Hermione, he had once spent long nights with a flashlight, secretly reading under the covers in his cupboard under the stairs, all the books he could find and smuggle there in his battered schoolbag. At that time, made-up stories and even dry school textbooks were his only salvation from reality, in which there were only endless housework and screams from relatives about what a worthless, useless, nasty little bastard he was, whose alcoholic parents died in a car accident, drunk to the point of insanity, and dumped him on the poor, unfortunate saint Dursleys...
In fact, Harry could even say that in his early childhood, books were his only friends and a window into another, brighter and kinder world, where he could be absolutely anyone, just not be himself, Harry "Ugly Scarface" Potter.
Once he got to Hogwarts and learned that he was not really a bastard and that his parents were not alcoholics, he plunged headlong into the world of real practical magic and very soon forgot about his previous passion for literature. He just always had so many other pressing matters or problems that required his immediate attention... With all those ghosts, talking portraits, flying lessons, mysterious mirrors, philosopher's stones and professors with Dark Lords in the back of their heads, there wasn't much time left for reading, really. And some days you needed to rest, too! Sometimes Harry seriously thought that people like Hermione just never slept at all, they just read, read, read all night long...
While he was thinking to himself about all the oddities, as well as about the people and events that filled his daily life at Hogwarts for the second year now, Hermione continued to talk about something with enviable enthusiasm, sometimes frowning, sometimes beginning to gesticulate passionately when emotions overwhelmed her and began to spill over.
The protective magic around her and Harry was gradually weakening, because they had long forgotten to renew it. The wind was ruffling Hermione's thick hair more and more, making her wince and throw unruly strands away from her face every time, which were trying to get into her mouth...
"She's so pretty!" Harry thought for the umpteenth time.
At that moment, he really wanted to press his lips to her plump pink lips, which he couldn't stop looking at for several hours in a row... Harry held this impulse tightly in check, because he knew that now she was unlikely to reciprocate his desire. Rather, she would get scared and push him away, or even curse him out of surprise.
"…based on the principle of Astral Gravity. In any other case, it simply wouldn't make sense! If the wand serves as a focus for redirecting the threads, then isn't the limitation of its power also an obstacle when trying to reach absolute zero? If we're talking about stones, feathers, or the like, we simply rely on the fact that their magical frequency is low enough, but if we're trying to transform something more subtle in the energetic plane…"
"Hermione…"
"…like a fragile or living object, we would also need to take into account the etheric connections of its threads. Otherwise, it would simply explode, or fly off in an unknown direction, or create a quantum paradox! That is why I believe Smoluchowski was wrong when he suggested that…"
"Hermione!"
"Huh?.. Oh, sorry! I've been talking too much, haven't I?" She bit her lip with an embarrassed look, although her eyes continued to glow with undisguised excitement and a desire to continue talking. She was completely delighted that someone had finally deigned to listen to her rants without trying to run away or demanding that she shut up for at least five minutes, and so she was now overcompensating for it with a surplus, for months to come.
"No, it's all right," Harry assured her, because he really didn't mind and didn't want her to feel embarrassed again about her slightly excessive love of studying.
But he also thought that right now they could take a short break, because they were both pretty tired from walking through the virgin soil. They could have some of that tea and biscuits he was still carrying around with him, because their noses were already bright red from the frost that was getting worse as the evening wore on. And finally, there was one more item on his "Date With Hermione" plan that Harry wanted to do…
"I was just thinking... Do you want to build a snowman?"
Chapter 26
Chapter Text
Wet, frozen and exhausted, but still very happy, Hermione and Harry stumbled into Hagrid's hut for the second time that day and immediately ran to the hot blazing fireplace to quickly stretch out their frozen fingers to it. However, "ran" is a strong word. More likely, "stubbornly crawled", because their numb feet, encased in ice-encrusted boots, refused to move at the necessary speed and were ready to buckle at any moment.
"D-d-damn, I think I've fr-r-rozen all the fing-g-gers on my left hand…"
"Same with my c-c-cheek-k-k…"
"Remind-d-d me why the hell it t-t-took us so long to mak-k-ke that bloody snowman?!"
"Hey! It was your b-b-bright id-d-d-dea!"
"D-d-damn. You are right-t-t-t…"
Their teeth were chattering like castanets from the cold, so that their manner of speech was now a perfect imitation of the notorious Professor Quirrell. With grunts and huffs, they tore off the outer layers of fabric that were stuck to their skin and threw them haphazardly on the floor, not even bothering to hang them out to dry. In the morning they would figure something out about this, but for now they only had enough energy to keep from falling over right there.
Hermione and Harry played in the snow until sunset, completely losing track of time, and came to their senses only when it began to get dark. By that time, they had already managed to get soaked to the skin, numb to the bone and tired to the point where your consciousness begin to fly away into the kingdom of Morpheus, you only have to blink. Having sensibly weighed their remaining strength, they decided that they would first get to Hagrid's hut, which was much closer than Hogwarts, and then decide what to do next...
As soon as they crossed the threshold of the warm house, the Gryffindors immediately realized that they would not be able to take another step.
Now they were sitting stupidly in front of the fire in their underwear, practically hugging the red-hot grate and shivering violently. Although both were now half-naked, neither of them had the strength to feel even the slightest arousal. All they wanted at the moment was to drink or eat something hot, and then crawl under the blankets and pass out until the morning, not thinking about anything.
The clock on the mantelpiece said it was a quarter to ten, which meant that even if they went out right now, they wouldn't make it to the living room in time for lights out. Not to mention all that darkness and cold outside…
"Bed-d-d-d?" Harry suggested.
"Yeah," Hermione nodded briefly, wrapping her arms tighter around her icy shoulders, covered in goose bumps. Her lips were as blue as the boy's.
"You c-c-climb in. I'll b-b-bring soup."
"Ok-k-kay…"
After pouring them each a full bowl of hot stew with chicken and barley, Harry promptly slid into bed after Hermione, who pulled him closer without hesitation, before wrapping them both in thick quilts as tightly as she could. Pressed side by side in the (semi)giant forester's bed, they warmed their palms on the steaming bowls and slowly savoring the soup, gradually beginning to warm up.
"We'll both probably need Pepper Potion tomorrow," Hermione sighed.
Inwardly, she had already resigned herself to the fact that she would spend the next week looking like a steaming mop. Alas, this was the price they paid for their fun outside today, although she still didn't regret anything. Despite the biting frost with a blizzard and the morning accident on the lake, this day had been truly amazing! Ice skating, a delicious lunch and a long walk – everything was wonderful! Even their snowman turned out perfect, even though they had spent their last bits of energy on it and crawled back barely alive, falling asleep right on the go.
But most importantly, she and Harry had finally explained themselves to each other. Although there was still that dark, unresolved tension hanging between them that they had continued to studiously ignore, at the moment even that had faded into the background, crushed by the colossal fatigue.
Glancing sideways at the boy, who was currently focused solely on his food and therefore not paying attention to anything else, including even his friend, sitting next to him in just her underwear and a T-shirt, Hermione involuntarily recalled his confession for the umpteenth time… It was hard not to really, especially when Harry was right there, a few centimeters away from her. All day long, Hermione had been turning his words over and over in her head, sneaking glances at him and swelling up more and more from the emotional whirlwind that was literally bursting her chest from the inside.
It was just all so unexpected… Well, of course, she had sort of guessed before that he had a thing for her. As much of a study-obsessed bluestocking as people thought she was, Hermione wasn't blind or completely devoid of any emotion that wasn't tied to school and books.
Ever since she and Harry had sex, he had definitely started looking at her differently. It was only natural, after all, they had seen each other naked… Hell, Hermione was looking at her best friend differently now too! And how could she not? He had taken her virginity and tried to shove his child into her womb! His cock had been inside Hermione, and would probably be there again soon – until their attempts to create life were successful. Things like that tended to change the relationship between you, whether you wanted it to or not!
Knowing now what was underneath all those layers of fabric Harry wore… oh… How could Hermione stop thinking about it all the time? How could she not remember the feeling of his body against hers? Whenever Harry was in her field of vision for more than two minutes, her almost photographic memory would mercilessly push the image of his erect penis – red, heavy, veined, and rising invitingly upwards, a drop of pre-cum on the thick mushroom-shaped tip, ready to enter her tight slit…
Due to her own emotions, which were off the scale at that moment, and completely overwhelming physical sensations, Hermione could not now recall her memories with one hundred percent accuracy, but she was almost certain that Harry was the proud owner of at least twelve centimeters in length, which was an impressive figure for a boy of his age, according to medical reference books. And he was still only at the very beginning of his puberty! As far as Hermione could see, he still had absolutely no hair on his body - not in the groin, not in the armpits, and especially not on the stomach or chest. His figure, even slightly trained by Quidditch, remained visually weak and childishly soft. It was all the more striking how much male strength was hidden in his seemingly frail torso, and especially in his lower part.
His twelve centimeters, inserted deep inside Hermione's undeveloped, still only forming channel, felt like all twenty, not to mention the girth... And when he began to move jerkily inside her, his hairless balls began to slap her skin very quickly, hitting hard and indecently loudly, and then shot into her a whole stream of semen, of which there was so much that some spilled out of her and flowed down her thighs...
It seems Harry was a very naturally gifted boy, whether he knew it or not. She wondered what kind of man he will become in time...
Thinking about a completely naked and aroused Harry, while he sat mere centimeters away from her, made Hermione's crotch warm up and release a portion of lubricant as usual, but right now she was too sleepy to even be properly embarrassed about it.
Well, yes, she and Harry had a physical interest in each other. So what? Many teenagers their age were already beginning to think about each other in that way. Just a few of them, however, had yet had sex… and for good reason, actually. It wasn't like Hermione and Harry had much of a choice in the matter, anyway… Besides, for some time now, Hermione had suspected that Harry actually liked her – at least from a physical point of view. It was quite flattering, and even raised her self-esteem, which was usually somewhere in the depths of the Mariana Trench, by a couple of notches…
"But he didn't say he just want me or like me. He said he love me!"
Her cheekbones did yet turn a little pink as another wave of warmth swept through her body... Seriously, what exactly was in that bouillon?! Surely it wasn't Amortentia?!
"Don't talk nonsense! Amortentia smells like what a person likes the most. I doubt I like boiled chicken the most! If that really was the Love Potion, I'd probably be smelling grass or a new book... or Harry's skin... Ouch..."
Realizing where her thoughts had accidentally led her, Hermione quickly stuffed the remaining few spoonfuls of soup into her mouth, trying not to look in the boy's direction anymore, so as not to provoke her already wild imagination once again.
After each had finished a serving of the hot broth, she and Harry simultaneously and instinctively reached out to press themselves even closer together, arms and legs entangling. There was nothing sexual or even particularly romantic about it right now: just two very cold people trying to warm up, using the most logical and accessible means to do so right now – each other.
It was only when she was under the protection of a solid roof, in close proximity to a blazing fireplace, that it dawned on Hermione how close they had actually come to freezing to death today.
And if anything had happened, no one in the castle would have even looked for them until Monday at the earliest! No one, not even Professor McGonagall, would have noticed their absence, because it was the last weekend before the holidays, and many students were taking advantage of the general chaos to sneak out of the common rooms at an unauthorized hour. Although Ron might have noticed, perhaps… unless he was busy sulking at his friends again, because he felt left out (which was partly true, and Hermione couldn't help but feel guilty about it, intending to talk to him later and try to make peace).
"Harry and I are both complete idiots," Hermione came to the disheartening conclusion, still shivering slightly from the deep-seated cold despite all the warming measures taken and Harry's warm embrace.
The boy's arms were wrapped tightly around her shoulders while her own were resting on his waist. This left almost no space between their chests and stomachs, except for their mutual breath as they snuffled into each other's necks, with the blanket almost over their heads. Hermione's right leg was slid between Harry's thighs, brazenly pressing against his soft penis and scrotum, which she could feel through the fabric of his boxers. At the same tome his left leg was thrown over her body, cupping her buttocks in an equally frivolous manner.
As the blankets warmed up above them, Hermione's icy feet thawed, regaining feeling, and she relaxed further. Harry's soft snores, also almost asleep, sounded like the best of lullabies to her.
"This feels so nice... I think I could get used to this..." she thought languidly, just before she finally fell into a deep sleep, filled with visions of the forest, Christmas, Harry, and snowmen dancing the reel.
Chapter 27
Notes:
This turned into one hell of a long scene, so I even had to split it into two chapters, because this somehow accidentally went in a completely different direction than I had originally planned, and... well... I hope you enjoy it anyway. ^_^
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The morning was just breaking, slowly creeping into Hagrid's hut with weak rays of sunlight barely able to penetrate the frost-covered windows, when Hermione woke up with a strong feeling of déjà vu.
Something hard, wet and hot was pushing against her from behind, roughly and insistently poking at her crotch through the fabric of her panties. Heavy snorting was heard near her ear along with streams of hot, moist breath that sent large shivers down her spine.
"Mmm... mmm..." Quiet moans accompanied all this action, echoing the rhythmic thrusts with which Hermione's body, against her will, swayed on the bed, while someone else's equally soft, warm from sleep body pressed tightly against her back, ass and legs. In her sleep, Hermione's T-shirt had ridden up almost to her armpits, exposing her navel and ribs, and now someone else's palms were possessively grabbing her bare waist, lightly stroking her sides with their fingers, burning her thin skin with their bold touches...
"What the hell?!"
Still terribly sleepy, she didn't panic and try to jump out of bed with a loud squeal only because she remembered in time who exactly was next to her and why.
"Harry!" She hissed into the silence of the room, trying to stop his unauthorized sexual rocking, but the boy did not respond or stop his provocative actions. On the contrary, hearing her voice, he moaned a little louder, but still inarticulately, and began to press into her more persistently. His breathing, however, was still measured and deep, as if he...
"Oh… He's still asleep, I think?"
And indeed. Turning her head and stretching her neck as far as she could, Hermione managed to see Harry's face: his eyes were tightly closed, and his expression remained relaxed and peaceful. It seemed that he really was still deep in sleep.
"A very hot and wet dream, by the looks of it."
Hermione blushed deeply as the full reality of her bottom being used as an object for self-pleasure hit her. As if she herself was just an object! Oh… And Harry wasn't even aware of his actions at the moment. When he woke up, he would be so ashamed… They would both be so embarrassed…
"Oh, god…"
What should she do?! Should she wake him up right now… or… or should she wait and… um… let him ejaculate?
"Mmm… Hermione… mmm…"
"So he sees me in his dreams right now?!"
While her feverish mind was racing between various options, trying to find one that wouldn't lead to both of them being extremely embarrassed and potentially having a fight, the girl's subconscious had already made the decision for her.
Harry's hard flesh pressing tightly against her crotch had caused her body, saturated with teenage hormones, to respond in the expected way, as a result of which they were both now unconsciously gently swaying on top of the mattress, pushing towards each other.
"Oh…"
"Mione…"
"Harry… oh…"
"Oh, shit... what am I doing?! What are we doing?! I need to... I need to stop... right now..."
However, her brain, filled with estrogen, dopamine and oxytocin, could not find any compelling reason at the moment why she should immediately stop all this.
"But Harry... he's asleep... he doesn't understand what's happening..."
As for Harry, he seemed to be enjoying this as much, if not more, than Hermione was. If anything, his thrusts were getting harder as he tried to brute force his way through the two layers of cotton. His cock, still hidden by his boxers, was hard as an oak tree and oozing wetly, as if Harry had ejaculated at least once in his sleep (which he probably had). He was thrusting hard between Hermione's buttocks, going as deep as he could, pressing roughly against her anus and brushing against her vagina, making Hermione leak more and more with each passing second.
"Oh, god… Harry… Harry!.."
This was it! This was the feeling she had been desperately and unsuccessfully searching for during those lonely weeks in the shower!
"Harry… Harry… Harry-y-y-y..."
Hermione had to bite down hard on the pillow to keep from screaming loudly as the boy's cock pressed right into her clit. And then again. And again. And again...
"Yes... like that... like that... oh... oh, Harry... yes... like that... god..."
She was panting, sweating and burning. The blanket was pressing down on her and was unbearably stifling, so she pushed it to the side, sighing with relief as the cool morning air hit her heated skin. In a fit of uncontrollable lust, she allowed Harry to slip his hands under her shirt and grab her underdeveloped breasts. His fingers unconsciously tightened on her hardened, erect nipples, too hard, and Hermione hissed, reflexively flinching away from him as the pleasure suddenly gave way to a flash of pain.
"Ouch!"
The sound must have been too loud because Harry flinched and stopped moving, waking up abruptly.
"H-Hermione?"
At first, a confused expression appeared in his sleep-clouded green eyes as he tried to distinguish dream from reality, but after a second it was replaced by panic.
"S-sorry! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to! I..." He babbled, simultaneously trying to move as far away from her as possible on the sagging mattress, but Hermione grabbed his hand.
"No! Wait!" She insistently pulled him back towards her.
Oh, no! Not a chance! They would not run in that circle again! Not today. Not when she finally seemed to have managed to ride the wave!
"It's okay. Really," Hermione tried to put all the confidence and calm she could into her voice, but Harry still wasn't convinced.
"But…"
"It's all right," she repeated, and as proof she leaned back, demonstratively pressing her ass against his still very hard penis.
"Oh..." He winced as if he had been struck, and froze with his eyes tightly closed, heavily inhaling air through his nose. The muscles in his cheekbones were playing, and his fists were crumpling the sheets. He looked as if he was fighting with something with the last of his strength... Probably this "something" was himself.
"But why? Why fight?! It doesn't make any sense! If we both want it so badly, why not just give in? We need it! I need it! Why are we still putting it off, damn it?!"
"Harry... please... please, could you continue?" Hermione croaked.
She never thought she would beg like this. She was well aware that she sounded absolutely slutty at this moment... It was hot and dirty, but it only made her more aroused. She bit her lip, restraining herself from the desire to rub against Harry again... She was terribly afraid of scaring and pushing him away with her excessive ardor, which, in truth, even slightly frightened herself.
"I'm going crazy... Oh my God, I'm absolutely going crazy! I'm acting like a total cock-hungry whore, but I don't care! I want it! Now! I WANT HARRY!"
She was really tired of fighting this. The ritual. Herself. Harry… The way her vagina had been clenching and throbbing for weeks in an irrational, desperate and helpless desire to grasp something solid – something that would expand and fill her the way she needed it.
She was tired of fighting the emptiness in her womb, which – she just knew it on some subconscious level – could only be gotten rid of in one known way…
"Harry, please…"
A moment later, she was rewarded a hundredfold for her persistence and courage when Harry whined in defeat and slammed his pelvis in bestial manner into her, instantly returning his hard flesh to her crotch burning with desire.
"Oh, ye-e-es…"
"O-oh…"
They moaned in unison, pressing themselves into each other as hard as they could and began rocking again, resuming their previous rhythm. They tried to increase the contact by any means necessary, without going too far. It wasn't that they had anything to lose, but Hermione still wasn't sure if her inexperienced body could handle what she wanted.
She... oh god!.. she so strongly, to the point of tears and complete frenzy, and heart-rending, languid pain in her lower abdomen, longed to be taken and mated, like an animal right now!..
But she also still remembered too well the extreme discomfort of her first time and was afraid of a repeat.
Two opposing impulses were fighting fiercely inside her at this moment, trying to figure out who was stronger, and that was why Hermione was still hesitating… Fortunately, Harry wasn't trying to rush her either. At the moment, they were both quite content with this frantic friction of their clothes against each other, which was causing Hermione's brain to melt uncontrollably inside her skull, turning her usually orderly chains of thoughts into an incoherent stream of consciousness, capable of holding only one single concept, which sounded like:
"Harry… Harry… Harry… Harry…"
With every minute that passed, with every strong thrust of Harry, with every groan of his and her own answering cry, fear dissolved more and more for Hermione, swallowed up by a whole sea of lust that made her forget about any barriers, any decency and reasons not to do what passion so persistently inclined her to.
Oh, yes… it was exactly that – passion, lust. The most primitive human need, which has existed since time immemorial, forcing one to forget about everything else and find another equally aroused human being with the sole purpose of fucking and reproducing at any cost.
Still too young and inexperienced, Hermione could not fully understand what was happening to her at these moments, and so she simply allowed herself to mindlessly feel and absorb every movement with which her body instinctively pressed itself against the body of the boy next to her, who responded to her with such bold, infectious enthusiasm, with such a powerful and obvious desire, that Hermione could not stop wanting more from him – more strong, more complete, more real connection...
"Harry… please… I need you… inside…" she begged between sighs and moans, but Harry didn't listen.
His pelvis slammed into her harder and harder as he furiously fucked her buttocks through her clothes, unable to stop. He was already on the verge of orgasm and desperately chasing his own release, completely out of his mind.
"Hermione... ah... a-ah... Hermione! Ah! HERMIONE!" Screaming loudly in his hoarse, high-pitched voice, he pressed himself against the girl one last time, almost pushing the panties into her anus, and came powerfully, splashing hot seed all over her crotch.
Several streams hit her naked back and even her hair, while Harry continued to chaotically push into her hips for a few more seconds, and then froze absolutely motionless, breathing hoarsely and heavily.
* * *
"Great!"
Hermione's inner muscles were still hopelessly clenching around the empty space. She wasn't satisfied at all.
"Harry..." she called softly when she felt the boy's breathing behind her begin to even out again.
"Will he go back to sleep now?"
"Uh-m...?" He did sound sleepy, but Hermione had other plans for both of them today.
Every tiny cell in her body tingled with a wild, unresolved desire. If Harry could have it, then she should at least try too. Otherwise, what was the point? Being a submissive little wify, laying down under her husband for his – and only his – pleasure? Pfft…
Hermione turned deftly in Harry's arms, bringing her nose to his. Still without his glasses, the boy squinted short-sightedly, but at least he no longer looked scared or guilty. On the contrary, floating on the waves of post-orgasmic haze, he smiled lazily at Hermione, and then without warning, he moved a little closer and…
Their lips touched each other softly for the first time in their lives.
For people who had already done so many more adult things, it was so strange that they had never kissed anyone before this very moment… It was Hermione's first kiss, and she was sure it was Harry's first kiss as well.
It started as a short wet peck that ended rather quickly and made them both giggle at the funny sound their lips made when they pressed together.
It was cute. And not gross at all. In fact, it was quite pleasant…
They both felt a little silly because their noses had managed to bump into each other in the process, but their sparkling curiosity and desire to continue the experiment were much stronger than their natural awkwardness.
Hermione lifted her head on the pillow and pecked Harry back. Then he pecked her back. Then she pecked him again… Hermione snorted when Harry suddenly decided to move up a little and kiss the tip of her nose. And then her cheek. And her neck…
"Harry! It tickles!" Hermione laughed, writhing under his playful touches and trying to push him away from the hollow between her collarbones, which turned out to be terribly sensitive.
In response, the boy smiled wider and kissed her nose again, and then just as quickly pecked both cheeks in turn, and her chin, and her forehead, and her temple...
"A-ha-ha! Harry, stop! A-ha-ha-ha...!"
He quickly grew bold enough to lunge at Hermione, pinning her underneath him and pressing her hard against the mattress so quickly that she didn't even have time to blink. He braced his elbows on either side of her head and greedily pressed his lips to hers in a new, slower and much more intense kiss.
"M-hr...?!" Hermione opened her mouth in surprise, and then their tongues accidentally collided, and then...
"God!!"
Hermione's clit was pulsing like crazy, as if it was directly connected to her tongue, which was now pressing against Harry's in an absolutely delicious, mind-blowing manner.
"Mmmmm…" Harry moaned softly into her mouth, cupping her cheekbones with his hands, while Hermione just as automatically grabbed his neck and the back of his head to pull him closer to her.
They kissed sloppily, roughly and, to be honest, rather slobberily. Their movements were completely inept and still a little wooden, but that didn't stop them in the least. Every now and then, their noses and teeth colliding, while they explored each other's mouths with ever-increasing ardor, grabbing each other's shirts and hair, pressing their chests and stomachs together... Soon they were again rubbing their genitals against each other unrestrainedly and greedily, like two overexcited monkeys in the jungle, in a new comfortable position in which Harry was positioned between Hermione's wide-spread thighs, while she tightly grabbed his ankles around her arse, forcing him to press as hard as possible into her crotch with each new thrust.
Their position now was a perfect copy of how they had lain together the first time, but how different those two moments were! Then Hermione had been overcome with doubts and paralyzed by the fear of having too early and unpleasant an experience, and now she was voluntarily offering herself to Harry.
Finding herself completely in his power, she sighed with relief, as if all the peace of the world had suddenly descended upon her... At that moment, she realized with particular clarity that she would not want to be anywhere now except in this bed with Harry, who looked at her so warmly and tenderly, hugged her so tightly and hotly, kissed her with such awkward, bright passion and obvious need that Hermione could not feel herself in any other way than desired and loved very much...
"I love you, Hermione!" Harry moaned as if reading her thoughts, and then smiled at her brightly and openly, as only he could.
Not wanting to leave those heartfelt words hanging in the air, Hermione reached out to Harry and tried to kiss him the way he had kissed her. She tentatively touched her tongue to his lips, and he responded enthusiastically, opening his mouth to let her in.
This time the kiss was slow and thorough. They deliberately tried not to rush, to thoroughly explore this new area for both. Gliding softly along each other's tongues and gums, they periodically stopped to make another short, funny "smack" or catch their breath, and then deepened the kiss again, unable to resist.
Hermione's fingers gently ruffled the soft hair at the back of Harry's head, her nails lightly scratching his scalp, causing him to sigh contentedly and squint, smiling into their kisses. Sliding her palms over his neck and shoulders, Hermione moved a little lower and experimentally ran her hands down his back, rubbing it softly and feeling the boy's muscles tense and then relax again under her hands...
Her lead role was short-lived, but unlike her usual willful attitude in class and in life, she now yielded to Harry with ease and even delight, allowing him to take the lead again.
Once again invading her mouth with force, but not so much that it was unpleasant, the boy made their tongues collide roughly for a while, as if they were wrestling with each other. In a burst of playfulness, he lightly bit her plump lower lip with his teeth, and then sucked it into his mouth…
"Mmmmm…"
Their hands continued to wander over each other's bodies, sometimes stroking the soft lines of their cheeks, sometimes burying themselves in their already tangled hair sticking out in all directions, sometimes going lower and starting to draw invisible lines over their shoulders... At some point, both of them found themselves without T-shirts and first stopped for a few minutes, looking at each other with ardent interest and the slightest hint of their former innocent embarrassment.
Hermione bit the inside of her cheek, secretly waiting and dreading the verdict Harry was going to give about her awkward body – not at all curvy and still not at all feminine, almost boyish, which made her feel inferior compared to her more developed female peers.
"Pretty... so pretty..." Harry's mumbled words and his lust-filled gaze as he stared at Hermione's almost non-existent breasts told her all she needed to know.
A bright crimson flush of pleasure painted her cheeks as Harry eagerly reached out and grabbed her right breast, his fingers squeezing gently but very possessively over the tender flesh.
"Hermione, you are so pretty! You are the prettiest girl in the whole world!"
"Oh, come on! I'm not..."
Her lower half jerked up reflexively, and her knees spread even further apart as he leaned down to her again and kissed her hard, shutting her mouth with his own and thus completely depriving her of the opportunity to object to his bold statement.
Briskly invading her lips with his tongue, Harry simultaneously began to push into her crotch again in the same rhythm, but now even that was not enough.
His penis and her vagina, to their mutual irritation, were still hidden by their underwear – already so wet that it looked transparent. Every fold of Hermione's swollen labia and even the tiny pea of her clitoris, protruding from arousal, stood out clearly under the fabric, so sticky and hot that she simply could not stand it any longer! She looked with hatred at Harry's worn-out underpants, wishing that they would simply disappear and stop hiding his beautiful cock from her! She was sure that a little more of this passive torture, and her elemental magic itself would evaporate their damned underwear to hell!
"Take it off... take it off... Now!"
Obeying her request, which sounded more like an order, Harry quickly pulled the rest of her and his clothes off, throwing it somewhere to the side. However, instead of immediately returning to his original position between Hermione's legs, he first hovered, looking at the girl with wide-open eyes as if he was seeing her for the first time in his life. In a way, it was.
He had never seen Hermione like this before. Even she had never seen herself like this before…
Naked, sweaty, languidly sprawled on top of the crumpled sheets, with her red lips swollen from kisses and her tousled hair scattered across the pillows, with her legs spread wide and her wet slit on display, she looked invitingly at Harry from under her half-lowered eyelids and fluffy eyelashes with a look burning with arousal.
She was absolutely shameless.
"Beautiful..." Harry muttered, looking completely intoxicated. Drunk on her.
Hermione's pupils – so wide at this point that they almost covered her brown irises – hypnotized him, pulling him towards her by an invisible leash, as if he were a rabbit and she a boa constrictor, ready to swallow him alive. And judging by his painfully aroused look which he gave her, he clearly didn't mind being swallowed at all! Quite the opposite, in fact!
"Harry... come to me!"
In response to this call, his member jerked quite distinctly. Having just recently ejaculated a generous portion of sperm, he was already rapidly rising vertically again, preparing for the second round. After all, even at a very young age there were advantages…
Hermione beckoned the boy towards her and helped him settle comfortably between her thighs again, receiving another shower of hot kisses all over her face, neck and collarbones.
"So good... so nice... oh..."
In truth, she wasn't quite sure yet how she and Harry would pull it off in a way that would leave both of them happy and satisfied, but she was going to try anyway. She didn't care anymore that they didn't have a theoretical basis. No matter! They had themselves and a whole bunch of unspent teenage excitement, so they would just figure it out as they went along.
The most important thing was that she trusted Harry completely, as she always had, ever since he had saved her from the troll. She believed that he truly loved her and cared enough to satisfy her need for comfort as much as he sought to satisfy his own desires.
Besides, maybe the second time would be easier and not so painful for her… after all, she was no longer a virgin, so the worst part should be behind her… At least, she really hoped so, because today she was definitely not going to back down, no matter what. She was afraid, and then she waited too long.
She was going to see it through to the end today and get pregnant with Harry's child, and have fun in the process, no matter how much effort and time it took.
No one had ever dared to accuse Hermione Granger of being a coward or of giving in to difficult tasks! She would handle this like any other multi-level problem: slowly, meticulously, and with the highest possible score, because she simply would not settle for anything less! She's a straight-A student, after all.
Chapter 28
Chapter Text
Harry was sleeping and had a wonderful dream.
In this dream, he and Hermione were both wearing funny fluffy pyjamas with a pattern of snowmen and house elves, and they were lying together in a warm bed in a spoon position: Harry was the big spoon, and Hermione was the little spoon. Her sweet round bottom was pressed boldly against his groin, thereby causing a completely natural physical reaction in his young body, but Harry was in no hurry to do anything about it yet.
They felt so calm, warm and nice together, hugging like this under one blanket, like a couple of carefree puppies in a basket... Their bodies perfectly complemented each other with every line, shamelessly pressing all their soft places, as if he and Hermione were born for this moment...
The pressure on his groin was growing, and since this was a dream, Harry wasn't at all surprised when the next scene showed all of their clothes mysteriously gone and his sex-starved cock pressed firmly against Hermione's unprotected pink vagina.
"Fuck me, Harry!" The girl's hot whisper penetrated his ears, instantly igniting his blood and accelerating his heartbeat. "Fuck me right now!"
Of course, she would never use such vulgar expressions in reality, because she usually could not stand rudeness and foul language, and she herself swore very rarely, but since it was just an illusion, Harry simply accepted it as a given and happily obeyed her command.
As he exhaled, he thrust his hips forward, entering Hermione in one powerful thrust and immediately plunging into her to the base, causing them both to moan loudly.
"Yesssss! Fuck me!"
He began to thrust into her quickly and with a sweeping motion, pounding her womb in a merciless manner, just the way he wanted it, listening to her unbridled screams and himself whining and moaning uncontrollably with each thrust.
"Mmm... mmm..."
"Harder, Harry! Faster!"
"Hermione... ah..."
"Fuck me all the way, Harry!"
"Hermione... a-ah... a-a-ah! Hermione! Mione...!"
Was it still a dream... right? Or was it not?!
Suddenly he really did find himself lying under the same blanket with Hermione. His hands were tightly gripping her waist like pincers, forcing the girl to press her back and bottom against him, while his pelvis was violently slamming against her thighs, simulating intercourse.
The difference between the dream and reality was that in reality they were both still wearing clothes, and so he was not fucking Hermione's vagina, but the cleavage between her buttocks, hidden by her panties.
As soon as he realized what he was doing, Harry did the only thing his sleepy, scared brain thought was right in this situation, namely, he tried to immediately and cowardly flee the scene, but Hermione suddenly grabbed his hand, physically holding him close to her. And then something completely unbelievable happened: she not only told Harry that everything was fine, but very persistently asked him to continue what he had started!
What was going on?! Christmas came early? Harry had obviously been a very good boy this year to be getting such presents… Or was he, on the contrary, a very bad boy? Did that even make any sense?!
Since he wasn't a complete idiot, no matter what some people said about him, Harry didn't even try to rationalize Hermione's behavior right now. Instead, he let himself be carried away by the moment and grabbed with both hands (and legs, and lips, and cock, and everything else he had) what was being offered to him with such fervor.
He started thrusting into Hermione again, and she – God, he still couldn't believe his luck! – was actively responding to him! They were slamming their lower halves into each other in unison and moaning loudly and uncontrollably throughout the house, not caring if anyone could hear them. They were completely alone here, in a tiny, empty hut lost in the fields a few kilometers from Hogwarts, separated from the rest of civilization by hundreds of acres of virgin snow. The chances that someone would be able to get through such snowdrifts to them were close to zero. Besides, apart from Hagrid, who was somewhere deep in the forest, no one knew they were here, and therefore would not have burst in here on purpose to demand that the sexual outrage immediately cease… And even if that had happened, Harry wasn't at all sure that he would have been able to stop anyway.
"Oh… o-oh… Hermione…"
"Harry… oh, Harry…"
The tender flesh of his cock rubbed hard against the crumpled fabric of his panties as he thrust it repeatedly between the girl's buttocks with a loud, smacking sound. Their underwear was already so wet and slippery from their combined secretions that Harry barely felt the friction… or so it seemed. He didn't care if he was about to rub his penis raw! He was willing to take that risk.
He buried his nose in the back of Hermione's head, breathing in the heady scent of her hair and sweat, and something tart and thick and musky that was completely mind-blowing... He fought the animalistic urge to sink his teeth into her neck, as if they were a pair of mating cats in the spring.
"Harry... ah... please... Harry... I need..."
He barely heard what she was muttering. All he could concentrate on at the moment was the desire to penetrate her as deeply as possible and come. His ass worked like a piston, pushing non-stop until Harry felt the now familiar wave in his lower abdomen, rapidly growing, threatening to push him over the edge.
"Hermione... ah... a-ah! HERMIONE!"
A couple more powerful thrusts and he was overcome with an orgasm of such terrible force that his mouth literally began to water and his eyes rolled back in his head. It was as if a bomb had exploded in his head, blowing his brains out and sending him straight into space for a few seconds that seemed like an eternity… Regardless, his body continued to shudder, thrusting chaotically, while his cock splashed out new portions of semen until his balls were completely empty and he relaxed.
"Hermione... oh god... Hermione..."
For an indefinite period of time he completely fell out of reality, floating on invisible waves in the vastness of space somewhere high, high in the sky, surrounded by stars and tailed comets racing along the inside of his eyelids.
"Uh…" he tried with difficulty to catch his breath and come to his senses in order to get his bearings, but the euphoria just wouldn't let go.
He had jerked off dozens, if not hundreds, of times over the past month, and he had even begun to consider himself an absolute expert at reaching climax, but this… God, this was so much better than anything he could do with his own fist! It wasn't even close! No comparison at all! He was damn sure he would never be able to get that much release just by masturbating himself, so there was no point in even trying!
Hermione squirmed in his arms, trying to turn over, and Harry's eyes slowly opened. This time, her face was very close to his, so that their noses were only a few centimeters apart. He didn't even need his glasses to see the bright sparkle in her brown eyes, and the pale freckles on her rosy cheeks, and her slightly parted pink mouth…
"I'm not sleeping! This isn't a dream! I just fucked Hermione again!" the jubilant thought raced through Potter's brain with triumphant fanfares and confetti. His lips parted in a wide grin.
Even though he knew that technically it wasn't quite true, and that he'd only come in his own pants, the joy of having Hermione – just as aroused as he was – next to him at that moment overshadowed any hint of awkwardness.
He looked again at her wet mouth, so close to his own mouth…
Without thinking, Harry closed the tiny space between them, kissing Hermione for the first time.
"Oh…"
Her lips were exactly as he had imagined them to be: soft and luscious and delicious, so pliant under his lips… They tasted a little like the soup they had eaten the night before, but somehow Harry didn't find it disgusting. Maybe it was because underneath the chicken broth he could still taste something else… something that felt like… Hermione.
Having tried it once, he immediately wanted more. With increasing excitement, he began to kiss all over Hermione's face and neck, until he reached her collarbones and shoulders, each time more and more amazed by the softness and sweetness of her skin, so thin, so sensitive... The girl writhed under him, giggling at the tickling feeling with which Harry's lips smacked her all over. Squealing with laughter, she tried to push him off of her theatrically, although in reality she was clearly enjoying it as much as Harry was.
In return, she also left short, wet smacks everywhere she could reach, kissing the boy on his cheeks, forehead, chin and neck, which made him sigh happily, and then begin to return the favor with even greater fervor…
Very soon their playful exchange of kisses reached that very boiling point, after which Harry could not stand it and once again bit into Hermione's lips, kissing her greedily and hard. He wanted to taste her again so much that he could not resist and simply licked her lips, as if they were an ice cream cone or a candy... He did not expect at all that her mouth would suddenly open slightly, and his tongue would fall inside, instantly colliding with her tongue, and it would be so...!
"Mmmmm…"
If he hadn't come ten minutes earlier, he would have done so right then. Hermione's tongue met his somewhere between their teeth, instantly engaging in a battle that turned every muscle and bone in Harry's body to jelly. Hermione's saliva splashed into his mouth, mixing with his, and he moaned again, because it was so wonderful, and hot, and wet, and right, and…
Their noses, chins, and teeth continued to clash awkwardly over and over as they desperately kissed with tongues, their arms and legs entangled in each other once more. Melting in Hermione's hot embrace like butter spreading in a frying pan, Harry finally allowed himself to realize what he had dreamed of for so long – he buried his fingers deep in her long chestnut strands. Maddened by the softness and fluffiness of them, he absentmindedly massaged her scalp, drawing circles on her cheeks with his thumbs, causing Hermione to moan softly and sigh contentedly into his mouth.
"I love you, Hermione!" He could repeat it hundreds and thousands of times because it was true.
He felt as if someone had cast a permanent euphoria spell on him, which grew stronger every time Hermione was near him. It was the most intensely bright feeling he had ever experienced, and Harry didn't want it to ever end.
In response to his words, Hermione's already huge pupils dilated even more, and then she reached for Harry with both hands, grabbing his hair and neck, and was the first to stick her tongue into his mouth, drawing him into another series of hot, sloppy kisses.
Soon they were thrusting into each other again, but now it was definitely a deliberate, mutual impulse, and not just the result of Potter's lonely nocturnal emissions. Lying on top of Hermione, in the warm circle of her legs, he diligently rubbed her wet groin with his already slightly lengthened member, which had managed to recover from the previous eruption and was now rapidly hardening again. Harry knew from experience that he would want to come again very soon, and this time he really hoped that he could do it right. He wanted to be inside Hermione when it happened, and from the looks of it, this time she genuinely wanted it too.
The way she subconsciously arched into Harry with every movement, the way she breathed heavily and moaned invitingly, left no doubt that they were on the same page in this. Her hands groped brazenly under his shirt, lightly digging her blunt nails into his back every time the boy's pelvis made another powerful thrust forward.
In an uncontrollable desire to get rid of any barriers between their hot, sweaty bodies, they tore off each other's T-shirts, which finally gave Harry a great opportunity to examine the upper half of Hermione's body in all its detail.
As he had imagined many times, sneaking glances at her figure under her school uniform and sweaters, her chest was very similar to his own. Where some of their female classmates already had rather impressive "assets", Hermione had only a couple of modest, barely beginning to grow mounds.
Still, Harry stared hungrily at those tiny, pale breasts with their erect, pink nipples, surrounded by a barely visible scattering of freckles. They looked so much like strawberries and cream that he immediately wanted to lean down and take one of the "berries" into his lips. He wanted to kiss them just like he had kissed Hermione's mouth. He wanted to lick them all over, and then take them inside and...
"Fu-u-uck…"
His cock pulsed painfully sweetly, releasing a large drop of pre-cum as Harry imagined sucking, biting, and licking Hermione's plump nipples in turn... He desperately wanted to know if they tasted as sweet as they looked.
"Shit… Does anyone even do this?!"
He had no idea if it was normal to suck a girl's tits during sex or if he was being a total freak again. Not wanting to offend Hermione or give her the wrong idea of his intentions, Harry resisted the wild urge to kiss her breast, though not quite. Unable to control himself completely, he reached out and cupped her right breast with his fingers.
"So soft…"
"So beautiful…"
Hermione blushed as red as a poppy and tried to object out of habit, but today Harry was determined to hear only sounds of joy from her and nothing more. Fortunately, he now knew one very pleasant and effective way to make her shut up to their mutual satisfaction.
A moment later, their lips and tongues were once again colliding in a dizzying kiss, and their lower parts resumed their thrusts, causing the hut to once again fill with wet claps and loud moans.
"Take it off! Now!" Hermione demanded hoarsely between breaths, tugging at both of their underwear.
He immediately and obediently tore off the soaked rags and threw them far away. It seemed that his own underpants flew straight into the fireplace and instantly turned into a pile of ash, but Harry frankly did not care. His eyes were riveted to the most stunning sight he had ever seen in his life.
Completely naked, relaxed and flushed with arousal, Hermione lay casually in front of him on the bed in the dim rays of the winter dawn, with her fluffy hair scattered across the pillow and her thighs spread wide apart, invitingly open for Harry, like the gates to heaven.
"And all this is just for me! Forever!"
Harry knew he really shouldn't feel happy or excited about this, since this whole situation was wrong to begin with and technically he and Hermione were both under duress, but… he just couldn't bring himself to care about it anymore.
Staring hungrily at Hermione's tight, juice-slicked vagina, openly laid out before him, waiting for his cock to enter, fuck and impregnate her properly, Potter felt like the luckiest, most fortunate son of a bitch in the universe! Even if he would probably feel bad about his crude thoughts later, he was fucking enjoying every second of it and didn't want it to ever end!
"If life gives you lemons..." Harry smirked before jumping on Hermione again and kissing her aggressively, landing hard between her thighs and making them both gasp at the overwhelming sensation of their now exposed sexes slapping against each other.
This time they tried not to rush, moving in a steady, smooth rhythm, stretching out the pleasure of foreplay and gradually adjusting to each other, preparing for more...
Harry was stunned by how much sticky wetness was coming out of Hermione's hole – the knickers he had removed from her literally needed to be wrung out. No longer hidden by any barriers, her crotch was glistening brightly with natural lubrication running down the tiny star of her anus and onto the sheets, causing a small stain to form on them.
"Wow! You're so wet!" Harry exclaimed, mesmerized by the girl's flowing slit, surrounded by plump labia. A dry, embarrassed cough came from Hermione, but no word for Harry to shut up or stop devouring her groin with his eyes.
Even the sparse golden fuzz on her pubis was matted and darkened by the moisture they had managed to spread around in their frank caresses so much that some of it was now drying on their stomachs.
Harry had never heard or read anything like this, but he instinctively knew it was something good. His nostrils flared, taking in the warm, intoxicating scent that flowed from Hermione and mixed with the scent of his own arousal.
His penis was also generously coated with lubricant from tip to base. The boy cupped the unusually smooth shaft in his palm and bounced the skin up and down several times experimentally.
"Oh, fuck…"
And why hadn't he tried putting something other than spit on his palm before? Some ointment, for example... or butter... He could probably sneak some butter at dinner without anyone noticing...
Harry closed his eyes and slowly jerked off for a few minutes, not thinking at all about how he looked. He only came to his senses when he heard Hermione panting and quiet moans.
"Harry…" the girl stared at his slippery cock, while her own right hand was right between her labia. "Please… continue."
"Uh…" He swallowed, nodded, and slowly moved his fist down his cock again, letting the burgundy head slip out of the leather pouch and simultaneously carefully watching Hermione's reaction.
"God…" She also ran her hand over her slit with a choked sigh and then began rubbing it in a circular motion.
Their hands worked in sync as they touched themselves in front of each other. Being more experienced in matters of self-pleasure, Harry soon realized that Hermione was unconsciously copying his pace, and he began to deliberately speed up and then slow down slightly again, playing with both of them and trying to delay the inevitable release.
He had tried to imagine many times before, but he still didn't know if Hermione had ever done this to herself. If not, it would probably be as overwhelming for her as it had been for him the first time…
"Oh... that feels so... good..." Hermione muttered in surprise between breaths. Her face and chest were flushed, and her ribs heaved heavily from the labored breathing as she started vigorously moving her fingers over her crotch.
"Yeah… I know…" Harry smiled slightly at her and groaned softly when she suddenly started working her fingers more actively, so he had to speed up as well.
"Mmm... God... Harry... ah…"
"Fuck…"
He gasped as she brought her left hand to her vagina and dipped her middle and ring fingers in, then pulled them out with a generous dollop of lube. Then she dipped them in again. And pulled them out again. And dipped them in again…
"Ah... ah... Harry..."
"Hermione... Shit..."
Now she was using both hands at once, fucking herself furiously with loud slurping sounds, so that the clear liquid under her fingers quickly turned into a real creamy foam.
"Ah... a-ah... Harry... I... ah... I think I'm…" Her palm became a blur in the air, and her pelvis lifted off the bed, pushing up to meet her fingers. She began to visibly shake, breathing rapidly and noisily, as if her own body was no longer obeying her.
"Fuck, she's cumming! She's cumming!" Harry pumped his fists fast, trying to keep up with her.
"Harry... ah... ah... Harry... HARRY!"
"Hermione… A-ah… FUCK! MIONE!.."
Through the roar of blood in his ears and the electric haze of orgasm, he could hear the muffled cries of pleasure of the girl who, just like him, was now writhing on her half of the mattress, thrusting her open, quivering vagina towards Harry and furiously cumming with him.
"A-a-a-ah... Harry..."
"Fu-u-u-u-uck…"
For a few seconds they continued to move their hands between their thighs, each time more slowly and lazily, drawing out the last remnants of pleasure, and then simultaneously fell on the mattress in two boneless puddles.
"O-oh…"
"Uh..."
"That was..."
"Yeah... I know…"
"I've never..."
"Really?"
"Yes..."
Fighting off the usual post-orgasm drowsiness, Harry pulled himself up onto his elbows and crawled closer to Hermione to lie down next to her again. To his delight, she immediately rolled over onto her side, wrapping her arm around his waist and throwing her leg over his hips. Her lips pressed to his cheek in a wet, slightly ticklish kiss, bringing a wide smile to his face.
"Thank you," a quiet whisper reached Harry's ear.
"Hm?"
"For this... For everything."
"You're welcome," he grinned, and then, on a wave of uncharacteristic impudence, added in his best annoying advertiser voice: "Please, feel free to contact me anytime!"
"You are such a prat, Harry Potter!" Despite the ironic tone and snort, something in the very depths of her hoarse voice told Harry that he had actually hit her mark.
"Oh, shit… She seemed to really like that! Does this mean we'll f…?" He clenched his jaw to keep from dumping that and a dozen other questions on Hermione's head out of the blue and ruining the perfect moment.
All this could wait.
It was a bit of a shame that he hadn't managed to cum inside her again, but he would just have to be patient here too. At least this time Hermione was enjoying it as much as he was, and that was really worth it! She had cum while watching him cum, and… damn, it had been the hottest, sexiest sight Harry had ever seen in his life! Now he absolutely wanted to see it again, and he was going to do everything he could to make it happen.
He looked at the peaceful face of Hermione, who was already snoring softly, having managed to doze off on his chest. Her long wavy hair covered their naked bodies from above, softly shimmering with all shades of copper in the light of the burning fireplace. Blinking sleepily, Harry continued to admire her, struggling in vain against languor and losing more and more…
"The most beautiful girl in the world... My Hermione," Harry sighed happily and smiled.
Pulling the edge of the blanket up, he covered them both as best he could and closed his eyes, intending to get some sleep himself. They had nowhere to rush anyway, did they? Hagrid wasn't going to be back for a few days, so there was no need to worry about them being caught naked in the same bed…
With that soothing thought, Harry finally allowed himself to join Hermione in a deep, dreamless sleep.
Meanwhile, the clock above the mantelpiece continued to quietly tick away the minutes of Monday, drawing ever closer to classes, something neither of them had remembered.