Chapter 51Notes:This was supposed to be one chapter, but it... ahem... grew. So you can consider this part one. Part two is already half written, and I'll try to post it as soon as possible. There's not much plot here, but it's necessary for the overall narrative. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it.
Chapter TextHermione was vaguely aware of the pages rustling and crumpling around them, but she couldn't bring herself to care – not when Harry's tongue was ravaging her mouth and his hands were roaming under her jumper, which he was frantically trying to pull off. A fire was burning between her legs, so intense she could barely stand, but thankfully, she didn't have to. Taking them both by surprise with his assertiveness, Harry pushed her back onto the table, forcing her to lie down.
"Sh-shit..." Hermione fumbled with the button on her jeans, her hands trembling, and after the fifth or sixth attempt, she finally managed it. "Help me get them off!"
He was so eager to grant her request that he nearly yanked her legs off along with the trousers, but Hermione didn't particularly mind. Her cotton knickers and shoes flew after the jeans a second later, leaving her in just her jumper and socks. She could see just how aroused Harry was by the way his own flies bulged, and she could think of nothing but his cock, still hidden under all that stupid fabric.
Oh, how she ached to see and feel it!
Her hips were trembling, parting uncontrollably on their own, giving him a perfect view of her pulsing, wet cunt. Any more – and she might start dripping right onto the table.
"Harry, please…!"
His fingers were trembling and clumsy too, so Hermione had to help him with his belt – and then, finally, he was free. Harry didn't even bother to take his clothes off properly, just shoving his trousers and pants down to his ankles before lunging back towards her. They were both so hot and ready that they couldn't bear to wait a second longer.
"A-ah!" Hermione let out a long moan and clawed the edge of the table, convulsing with a mixture of pain and relief as Harry forced himself between her folds for the first time.
He filled her agonisingly slowly, parting her tight walls, and she was literally gasping for air, her mouth wide open in a silent scream, feeling every single inch of his hot, pulsing rod stretching her wider and wider. She could hear Harry's ragged breathing and feel their frantic, shared pulse with her entire body.
Maintaining that same intense concentration, Harry pressed into her with excruciating leisure until the head of his cock met her cervix. His warm balls rested against her arsehole, which clenched reflexively at the slightest stimulation.
It was so good, so deep, and yet so catastrophically not enough that Hermione could barely stand it.
"Move! Oh god, Harry, move! Please!"
She thought she'd go mad if he didn't do something. Her eyes darted feverishly over his face, his bitten lower lip, his furrowed brows, until they found the green irises behind his askew glasses.
Leaning down even further, Harry pressed his lips to hers in a deep, sweet kiss and, at the same time, gave a soft roll of his hips.
"Mmmph!" Hermione moaned into his mouth, instinctively trying to push back to meet him, though their position wasn't ideal for it. Harry had her shoulder blades pinned to the table, leaving her with the choice of either hooking her legs up or planting her feet on the floor. Hermione chose the latter.
Without breaking the kiss, Harry began to make short, deep thrusts inside her, but still not hard enough, making Hermione's brain melt even more, forcing her to tremble, to yank at his hair, and to whine hoarsely with mounting frustration.
She wanted him to stop playing with her and just fuck her properly! She needed it!
"Harry... ah... faster!"
He obediently sped up, pounding into her at a steady rhythm for a while, but the position of their bodies was just too awkward. Hermione's arse was practically hanging in mid-air, and she had to balance on her toes to keep from slipping off completely.
She let out a desperate, muffled groan, unable to form the words, but Harry, thankfully, seemed to understand anyway.
His penis slipped out of her, followed by a string of slick, as he pulled away for a moment. Without him, Hermione's vagina felt empty and clenched painfully, aching at the loss.
She wanted to be filled again! God, how she wanted it!
"Can you turn over?" Harry's hoarse voice reached her ears, and then her fevered brain.
Hermione nodded without hesitation. Whatever he had in mind, she was all for it, as long as it involved his cock pounding her pussy until she came.
Following his silent instructions, Hermione turned to face the table, then lowered her upper body onto it, propping herself up on her elbows and palms, so her feet were now firmly on the floor and her bare arse was sticking up in the air.
It was a bit unfamiliar. They'd never tried it this way before.
For the briefest moment, an irrational anxiety seized her – she couldn't see Harry's face anymore, and she didn't know what his next move would be... but it passed just as quickly.
She shivered in anticipation as the tip of his cock brushed against her folds again. Now that she couldn't see, her other senses seemed somehow heightened.
"Hermione..." Harry's lustful whisper was in her ear, his hot, moist breath sending a shiver down her spine.
"Do it," she rasped back, and for good measure, wiggled her arse provocatively, in case he was still having any doubts for some reason.
His penis pressed harder, parting her, and then slid into her in one long, hard thrust that made them both groan.
"A-ah... yes-s-s..."
Gripping her hips tightly, he started fucking her again at a measured pace, letting them both adjust. The new position allowed him to go much deeper than before, burying himself in her cunt right up to his balls, but more importantly, they no longer had to worry about slipping off the table at the worst possible moment.
"Faster! Harry, I need... ah... faster!"
She just couldn't shut up or stop bossing him around, but Harry, it seemed, didn't mind. Sliding his arms around her stomach, he picked up the speed abruptly, ramming into her with a ferocity one wouldn't normally expect from him, and Hermione cried out at the immense pressure, multiplied by a frantic power.
Gripping the table, she was gasping for air as he pounded into her from behind like a madman, his hot breath on her neck. Her poor little pussy was burning and sore, stretched around his shaft as it mercilessly rammed into her deepest core.
"Ah! A-ah!.."
The pleasure built in her in leaps, making her writhe and squirm, losing all sense of her surroundings as her legs turned to jelly. Barely aware of what she was doing, Hermione arched her back and moaned sluttishly without cease each time Harry's hips slapped lewdly against hers.
It was so good. So good...
She was on the edge... at the very end...
A little more... just a little more...
Spurred on by passion and her encouraging cries, Harry ramped up his speed to a peak, then shoved into her roughly, as deep as he could reach, and with a drawn-out groan, he came, flooding her insides with his warmth.
Immediately, Hermione's inner muscles clenched convulsively, and she let out one last hoarse cry, shaking and arching as a powerful orgasm washed over her.
* * *
The weight of the boy's body pressed down on Hermione, still pinning her to the table as his cock remained buried deep in her pussy, releasing the last spurts of fertile sperm into her open birth canal.
Both she and Harry were breathing heavily and hoarsely, exhausted by their intoxicating race. Their skin was sweaty and sticky, especially where her clothes still clung to her.
"That was... something new," Hermione rasped, shifting awkwardly beneath Harry. The sharp edge of the table dug painfully into her stomach, and she suspected she'd have a bruise there tomorrow.
"Yeah..."
She winced as Harry's penis slipped out of her, followed by his semen trickling slowly down her thighs. Straightening up, Hermione turned and got to her feet on legs that were still weak, looking around in surprise.
All those books and magazines around them were completely crumpled, and some were ruined... Bloody hell. What a mess they'd made!
"Where did you get that from?" she asked as they came face to face again. "I mean..." she nodded towards the table, unsure how to phrase it.
"I... uh... read it. In a book," he said with a sheepish grin.
"In a book?"
"Well, you know..." Harry gestured vaguely at the pile of glossy magazines, and Hermione had to suppress a giggle.
"So that's what he was so busy with..."
"You... didn't like it?" Harry's face twisted with worry, and Hermione quickly shook her head.
"No, no, it was fine. It's just... a bit of a surprise."
She was about to add something else reassuring, knowing how prone he was to working himself up, but at that moment, her stomach let out a long, plaintive gurgle.
"Damn, we missed dinner! Madam Pomfrey's probably looking for us by now."
"Want to get out of here?" Harry offered slowly.
"Mmm... no," she answered honestly after a moment's thought. "Not really."
"Then we'll stay?"
"Yeah... You don't mind?"
"No," he shook his head, then teased, "But… that's against the rules, you know?"
Her pulse was still racing, and her mind was swimming in the sweet haze of afterglow, and despite the recent high, her body was nowhere near tired.
She didn't want this to end just like that. She didn't want to go and face Madam Pomfrey, listen to her nagging and scolding about irresponsibility... Lately, it felt like everyone was telling her how irresponsible she was and how she should have known better.
"Sod the rules," she muttered darkly.
Genuine surprise lit up Harry's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by the same dark, lustful fire that was burning inside Hermione at that moment.
Caught up in the moment, they fell on each other again, pressing their lips together and tangling their fingers in each other's hair. Their teeth clashed unpleasantly because they were once again in too much of a hurry, but it was a fleeting discomfort before their tongues found each other again in a sloppy, messy kiss. Harry's fingers slid over Hermione's ribs, sending waves of sparks across her skin to her spine and neck, making her body press against his of its own accord, seeking fuller contact. His still-soft cock pressed wetly and warmly against her damp mound.
Understanding each other without words, they hastily rid themselves of the last of their clothes, dropping them in a pile on the floor.
"We need... a bed, right?" Harry mumbled into her neck before kissing her again.
She nodded silently, trembling with arousal and not quite trusting her voice. The more he kissed her, the fewer thoughts remained in her head. Her inner muscles were already twisting with the familiar spasm of desire, and she was very much hoping for a second round as soon as possible, though preferably with more comfort this time.
"Hey, Room, I want... um… We need something... ah… more comfortable..." Harry stammered, also starting to lose control. Fueled by teenage hormones and Ritual magic, his penis was rapidly filling with blood, ready for another 'go'.
Grabbing Hermione's hand, Harry instinctively pulled her towards the shimmering door that had appeared between the shelves. Once they crossed the threshold, they found themselves in a kind of hunting lodge, vaguely reminiscent of the interior of Hagrid's hut.
There was a roaring fireplace, wooden walls with a window laced with frost, fluffy furs on the floor, and some primitive furniture... but most importantly, there was a huge, sturdy-looking bed, covered with thick checkered blankets.
They scrambled into it eagerly – Hermione on the bottom, with Harry on top of her, kissing her mouth, cheeks, and throat, moving down to her collarbones...
"O-oh..." she breathed heavily, her eyes flying open in a mix of surprise and sharp pleasure as Harry's tongue suddenly flicked over her left nipple.
"I… May I...?" he trembled above her, looking at her flat chest with such greed that Hermione couldn't have refused him even if she'd wanted to.
But she didn't want to refuse. She wanted all of him, whatever he was planning to do to her. He clearly had some sort of plan for today, and Hermione was eager to find out all the details.
"Yes... p-please... oh..."
As soon as he got the green light, Harry latched his lips back onto her breast, sucking the nipple into his mouth with a loud, wet slurp, and moaning right into her skin.
"He likes it... Oh, god... He loves... loves sucking it... and... ah... biting..."
Her pulse thudded heavily between her legs in time with the movements of Harry's tongue and teeth as he nibbled, licked, and sucked her nipples in turn, then began to move lower, towards her navel.
"Harry... ah... H-Harry..."
Something had changed in him today, and Hermione didn't know what it was, but he was so playful and still so gentle with her. He kissed her stomach, whispering something indistinct against her damp skin, and she melted, melted, melted under these maddening touches...
But she still needed more.
"Harry, please... I need..."
He silently moved up her body and parted her thighs, settling between them. Waiting for her nod, he entered her and immediately set a good pace, bracing his hands on the mattress on either side of her face. Hermione's fingers roamed automatically over his back and ribs as she enjoyed the feel of his velvety flesh sliding easily inside her. Their shared lubrication squelched wetly, soaking into the blanket until a damp patch formed beneath them, but they didn't care.
Lines from dirty books and tips from magazines surfaced and faded in her consciousness one after another...
"A baby... I need his baby... I need this..."
"Harry, wait..." she pressed her hands against his shoulders, forcing him to stop.
"Uh… You alright?"
"It's fine. I just want... to try something."
"It's all about gravity," the thought surfaced in her mind.
One by one, Hermione lifted her legs until they were resting on Harry's shoulders.
"Can you manage like this?" she asked with a hint of worry, but Harry just nodded.
It took them another few minutes and a few failed attempts, but then, suddenly, it just... worked.
When Harry thrust properly for the first time, Hermione had to dig her fingers into his biceps because it was so deep. Deeper than ever before.
Perfect.
And although her thighs weren't spread as wide as usual, this new angle allowed Harry's cock to slide freely to its full length, entering and exiting her at a fast pace. He was also literally fucking Hermione dead into the mattress with each subsequent thrust, his hips slapping against her soft lower half with a swing.
"Do it, Harry," she whispered, looking into his eyes.
She saw only endless love there and answered it with a boundless trust and tenderness that she felt from his every touch.
"Give it to me... please..."
He sped up a little, panting with effort, then slowed down again, entering her deeply and thoroughly. In response, Hermione ran her palms over his narrow back, his shoulder blades, and vertebrae, down to his arse, which she squeezed, pulling him deeper into herself.
"A baby... I need a baby..."
"Please, Harry!"
"Mione..."
"Please, please, don't stop... Don't stop!.."
They shuddered simultaneously, lost in a haze of ecstasy blooming behind their eyelids, coming for the second time that evening, arms and legs entwined, kissing fiercely and moving erratically against each other...
* * *
The logs crackled comfortably in the magical hearth, burning with an even flame that didn't diminish, casting soft shadows on the walls while fake snow fell silently on a fabricated forest scene beyond the pretend window. The oak bed stood firmly on its legs, its mattress rocking in time with the movements of the two young teenagers, who were mating with a primitive persistence and tirelessness.
This time, Harry was taking Hermione from behind as they lay on their sides in a spooning position. Her left leg was draped over his thigh, and he was thrusting into her without any particular hurry, while gently kissing and sucking the salty skin on her neck, inhaling the scent of her hair, her floral shampoo, and sweat, all mixed with their shared musky smell that filled the space.
The whole room around them reeked of sex by now.
On a low table against the wall were plates with the remains of the dinner Dobby had brought them an hour earlier (before this, Harry had prudently dressed and left the Room to call for him, and the helpful house-elf was incredibly happy to bring him whatever food he desired).
Aside from the probable upcoming telling-off from the adults, Hermione and Harry had no other real reason to rush, so they allowed themselves to fully enjoy the moment while it lasted.
Rocking gently atop the sheet, Harry slid inside Hermione, filling her again and again, so that she could simply rest in his warm embrace, half-asleep and light, not thinking about anything specific.
The almost insane need to have Harry's baby, which had possessed her for a full day, had temporarily retreated to the back of her mind, allowing her to focus on her own sensations and desires. And she just... liked being here, with Harry. Cuddling with him naked under the covers. Having lazy sex with him to the crackle of the fire in this big, warm bed where no one could disturb them, and all other worries took a back seat.
"He's so sweet..."
Harry's left arm was wrapped around her waist, his palm resting a little bit possessively over her flat stomach, but Hermione wouldn't have changed a thing. She liked the feel of his fingers on her body, right over the place where her womb was, as he entered her, making her his again and again.
He filled her so well... He made her whole every time he entered her.
Her stubborn, too-young body, once so defiant and full of fear, had by now completely surrendered to Harry's gentle strength, and Hermione no longer understood how she could have ever lived without this feeling.
He was so patient with her...
Being with Harry, taking him into herself again and again, allowing him to possess her as he wished, giving them both mutual pleasure, now seemed to her the most natural thing in the world. And how could it be otherwise? They were so good together...
"You not tired?" Harry asked in a low voice.
Hermione could feel the vibration of his chest against her back from how tightly he was enveloping her, literally wrapping her in his presence.
"Mmm... a bit."
She was genuinely sleepy, but that didn't mean she wanted it to stop. After the previous two times, her pussy was so well-stretched that Harry's cock no longer caused her the slightest discomfort. The sheets beneath them were stained with her lubrication and his semen, and even more fluid was inside her now, ensuring perfect glide without a hint of discomfort.
"Want to rest?"
"Ma..." she yawned mid-sentence, "maybe. But you keep going..."
"You want me to do it while you sleep?" There was disbelief and affectionate mockery in Harry's voice.
"I'm not sleeping," Hermione grumbled out of pure stubbornness, though her eyes were indeed practically closing.
"Hmm… I think you are."
"Nope..."
"Yep..." He chuckled softly and kissed her on the cheek.
By now, he had stopped moving completely, though he was still inside her.
"But we need to finish..." she mumbled, even more sleepily, "with the baby..."
"We can do that later."
"No," her eyes flew open, and she turned halfway towards Harry, trying to see his face.
He looked bewildered by her sudden emotional outburst and a little worried.
"No?"
"No," Hermione repeated firmly, now fully awake. "Harry, this isn't a joke. We have to conceive this baby today, do you understand? I'm tired of being scared all the time. So let's just... get it done, alright?"
"Uh... okay. Then I'll... uh... carry on, yeah?" He clearly wasn't thrilled by what he'd heard, but he didn't argue with her.
Hermione didn't like how it sounded herself – as if they were doing it purely out of necessity now. But deep down, she knew she was right. They needed to finish what they'd started, because who knew if they'd get another chance like this in the future? The holidays would be over soon, and between that fact and the plan to keep them cooped up "under supervision" in the Hospital Wing, they didn't really have many options.
They no longer had the time to sit down and calculate her ovulation carefully, and then get to work on the most opportune day. It's entirely possible they simply wouldn't live to see her next ovulation.
So it was now or never.
"Go on," she nodded with confidence and pushed back against him, insistently impaling herself on Harry's cock.
He began to thrust into her more actively, then pinned her down, rolling her onto her stomach. Hermione clutched the pillow, burying her face in it, and parted her legs to make it easier for him to enter. She felt his pubic bone rubbing against her arse with every thrust as he breathed noisily and heavily into the back of her neck, fucking her faster and faster.
She whimpered and bit her lip as he entered especially deeply, striking directly against her cervix. It took a few more such rough, precise thrusts for him to groan and spill into her.
"Ugh... bloody hell... shit"
A faint smile appeared on Hermione's face as she heard him swear again. For some reason, he almost always did that when he came, and then usually fell asleep immediately, unless he was too worked up and wanted to continue.
This time, however, it seemed he was completely spent. There were no clocks in the Room, but it felt like they'd been having sex for at least two hours straight, and moving very actively the whole time.
No wonder he was tired.
He rolled onto his back, settling beside Hermione as she shifted to lay her head next to his shoulder.
Although she didn't come this time, it was fine. She'd already had her dose of pleasure today – twice, in fact. She could certainly wait a while longer until they had sex again. Hermione had no doubt that they would be doing it in the future – and probably often. At least, if it was up to them.
She wriggled a bit, getting comfortable, and pulled the blanket up to cover them both.
"Tired?" she asked as she snuggled up to Harry again.
He gave her a weak smirk:
"Is it that obvious?"
"I think you're about to conk out," she joked.
"Yeah..." he yawned, and Hermione mirrored him reflexively. "You're going to sleep too?"
"Yeah. But..."
"Hmm?"
"We'll continue... later. After we've slept."
"God, yes... But only after we've slept."
"Uh-huh..."
"G'night, Mione..."
"G'night…"
Chapter 52Chapter TextThe next time she woke, it was to the sensation of someone tickling her stomach. She grimaced, trying to shift away from the pestering subject, but he just let out a mocking little giggle and left a teasing kiss on her cheek.
"Mhmm..."
Something brushed against her down below, right between her legs, tracing over her clit and still-wet labia in an insistent gesture she could no longer ignore, no matter how much she wanted to.
Hermione's eyes flew open, and she saw Harry's face, his hair messy from sleep, just inches from her own. Mischief sparkled in his bright green eyes, and a cheeky grin played on his lips as he leaned in to kiss her again, a kiss she found herself returning instinctively.
"Morning," he whispered into her mouth, then insistently ran his fingers over her sex again, making Hermione's heart beat faster, a hormonal cocktail already starting to course through her veins.
"M-morning..."
"Sorry for waking you. I've been awake for a while, so I just thought..."
"It's okay. Please... continue," she leaned back against the pillows, spreading her legs wider to give him full access.
Harry's hand glided over her pussy again, gathering her wetness and smearing it over her swollen clit. Hermione didn't know when he'd learned her body so perfectly (or maybe he was just a natural-born sex genius, who knows?), but he somehow managed to touch her exactly where and how she wanted it most.
It wasn't five minutes before she was breathing heavily again, letting out quiet moans, instinctively pushing against his fingers, practically fucking herself on them.
It was good, so good, but it wasn't enough...
"Harry... ah... I need you inside me. Please..." she whined plaintively, hating the emptiness within her.
Seeing her trembling and calling for him with growing desperation, Harry quickly settled over her. Taking his cock in hand, he rubbed it along her labia, making sure to spread the slickness properly. After so many hours spent in bed, he no longer had to worry about hurting her. He entered her in one smooth, powerful thrust, drawing a happy half-gasp, half-moan from her throat.
Crossing her ankles behind his back, Hermione pulled him closer by the shoulders, almost pinning him in place for a moment. She just wanted to feel him close again – inside her, around her – and Harry let her, because he had missed this sweet moment desperately the entire time they were apart too.
"Good morning," Harry whispered, kissing her sweetly. "Did you sleep well?"
"Yes, very..." she smiled and gave him a quick, wet peck back.
"Me too. You know..."
"Hmm?"
"I dreamed about you," he admitted.
He began to move inside her, just a few millimetres back and forth.
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"What was it like?"
She was genuinely curious. Had it been an erotic dream, the kind he'd woken up hard from? Was that why he'd woken her – because he couldn't wait to be inside her again? If so, Hermione had no objections at all...
"It was... good. A bit weird, actually."
"Weird? How?"
"Well... we were at the Burrow for Christmas, with Ron, his mum, and everyone... But you and I were... uh... older? I don't know, like five years or so older..."
"Doesn't sound too weird so far," she snorted.
She uncrossed her ankles and placed her feet on the mattress, spreading her hips wider to let him penetrate her more freely.
"And you were... well..." he hesitated, even stopping his thrusts for a moment, stilling inside her. "You had... a belly. A big one."
"Oh. So that's why he…"
"You dreamed I was pregnant?" she asked quietly.
"Yeah."
That explained why he'd looked so awkward remembering it. It was weird. It still felt that way.
"Did you... not like it? The way I looked?"
"I... No. I mean..." he replied just as quietly, then confessed, "Actually, I love it. Like… a lot. You looked good."
"Oh..."
Hermione didn't know what to say to that.
They resumed their movement, and this time Harry thrust a little faster, though still barely pulling out. He didn't lean away, but instead brought his face closer to hers, cupping her cheeks in his palms and kissing her greedily. They were getting better and better at it with every kiss, and Hermione was truly savouring every touch of his mouth against hers. Meanwhile, his hips made short, deep thrusts, burying his phallus deep inside her as she lay in the classic missionary position.
Kissing her passionately, swapping saliva, Harry fucked her hotly and at length in the manner that had already become familiar to them both, in a steady rhythm that slowly built, just like a symphony. Each of his movements was both ardent and tender, and it felt as familiar and comforting as a mug of hot cocoa on a winter evening.
Hermione was genuinely enjoying what they were doing, drifting in the slow, sweet current, sprawled freely across the sheets.
She tried to imagine how Harry saw her right now... Did she look wanton? Uninhibited? Completely available to him? Did he find her beautiful? Desirable?
His eyes roamed over her body, often stopping at the place where they were joined...
Now he was resting on just one arm, bent at the elbow, while his other hand slid up and down Hermione's body. His fingers had brushed her nipples several times already, and she knew it wouldn't be long before he wanted to touch them with his mouth again, like a newborn baby, and she would let him, of course... In fact, right now she would let him do much more, if he asked.
"Feeling good?" Harry asked after a while, between thrusts.
He had a tendency to ask her this from time to time, which Hermione found very sweet. Though she did wish he worried a little less about doing something wrong...
"Yes... it's very nice. What about you?"
"So good..."
"Do you want to..." she bit her lip, "suck my tits?"
"Yes!" he jolted as if he'd been electrified. "Yes, I really want to! May I?"
Hermione mentally snorted. It was hilarious. It seemed she'd found another effective button for Harry, one she could use to control him however she pleased.
"Go on," she said with all seriousness, hiding her amusement.
She tried very hard not to laugh out loud and ruin the mood as Harry immediately withdrew from her and shifted so his face was level with her chest. Unfortunately, they couldn't do this and fuck at the same time, but Hermione was perfectly capable of enduring a small "lyrical digression" since Harry wanted it so badly. Besides, she loved it when he touched her breasts. If only they were a little bigger... but you can't have everything, right?
"When I get pregnant, they'll definitely get bigger," that was, in fact, one of her first positive thoughts about her future "family situation."
Until now, Hermione had never thought about it in this way... but it was true – when she was carrying a child, her hormones would inevitably change her body. By the end of the year, she'd probably have proper breasts, just like a grown woman's...
"Ouch!.."
She stopped thinking about the prospect of her breasts growing, or about anything else for that matter, the moment Harry's lips finally descended on her right nipple and suckled the tight nub inside with a wet sound. It was so intense it was almost painful.
"Gently, please!"
"Mm... sowwy..." he mumbled, his mouth still full of her sensitive flesh.
He placed his palm on her flat breast and began to knead it as if it were already a soft, full pillow instead of a mere bump. His tongue, meanwhile, relentlessly rolled and twisted her nipple as if it were a piece of caramel.
"Where... Harry... oh, god... where did you learn how to...?"
"Rewd it..."
"...in a book?"
"Uh-huh..."
"Oh... oh, Jesus..."
His other hand slid down to her cunt and pressed, and Hermione cried out, shuddering as goosebumps ran down her spine.
"Ah!..."
Now he was rubbing her with his fingers down below while enthusiastically sucking her tits in turn, as if he were incredibly hungry and hoping to somehow miraculously get milk out of her. His fingers between her legs were clumsy and didn't always hit the right spot, but it was still so hot and good that she soon began to moan out loud and tremble on the verge of a rising orgasm.
So close... it was so intoxicatingly close...
She was almost...
Harry pulled away from her at the very moment Hermione was practically ready to fall apart from the onslaught of pleasure.
"What the hell?!"
A spark of anger, caused by dissatisfaction, whipped her consciousness and immediately gave way to confusion when Harry, without asking, crushed her under himself. Throwing her ankles over his shoulders, just like yesterday, he entered her at an unbearably deep angle and immediately set a fast pace, fucking her mercilessly so that all she could do was gasp for air, her fists clenched in the sheets.
Giving in to impulse, she found her clit and began to rub it frantically as Harry's cock greedily pounded into her, and the simultaneous stimulation instantly blew her mind.
"A-ah! A-a-ah!" she arched under Harry, coming violently and writhing, but even that didn't make him stop.
Ignoring her moans and convulsions, he continued to hammer her pussy at high speed, quickly escalating into a frenzy.
Completely driven mad by the overstimulation, Hermione tried to push him away, but he was too strong at the peak of his lust, and she soon gave in, allowing him to fuck her as he pleased. Very soon, however, the painful sensation in her clit began to fade, replaced by a new wave of arousal.
"Harry... Harry-yyy..."
He let out a guttural groan and began to slam into her so fast that his arse almost became a blur in the air – and Hermione choked on her breath.
Another wave of orgasm – much deeper than the last one – surged up from the depths of her belly and shot through her entire body, like a forest fire, making her toes curl and her brain shut down completely.
At that same moment, Harry let out a hoarse cry and drove in as deep as he could, pinning her to the mattress as he came furiously, while her cunt continued to milk him in heavy, sweet convulsions, sucking every last drop of semen from him.
* * *
They collapsed onto the mattress together – Harry still on top, breathing heavily, wet, with an equally wet, barely breathing, and moaning Hermione beneath him.
Her vagina was burning from the constant stretching and friction, and her legs, thrown up over his shoulders, were a bit stiff from the unfamiliar position, but it felt so bloody good…
Groaning, with Harry's help, she lifted her ankles from his shoulders and let her heels rest on the mattress with a sigh of relief. Her hips ached slightly because Harry, still sheathed inside her to the hilt, was putting a lot of pressure on her pelvis, but she was in no hurry to make him leave.
She just wanted to lie like this for a little longer…
Her hands roamed mindlessly over his back, tracing invisible patterns, while Harry breathed loudly into her ear, his face tucked into the space beside her neck. Their naked bodies glistened with sweat as they slowly cooled down together in the complete silence of their magical cocoon…
Unfortunately, over time it inevitably started to become less pleasurable and more uncomfortable – also because by now, Hermione was dying for a piss.
She gently disentangled herself from Harry's embrace, settling him onto his side as he blinked sleepily, already half-asleep. She should probably leave him to rest and nip to the shower herself, like last time.
"Well, or I could just…"
She hesitated beside the bed, looking at the dozing boy, unsure what to do. Her mind was racing with thoughts – each one filthier than the last.
Of course, she and Harry had just finished some rather vigorous, hot sex, and she was pretty knackered herself, even though he'd done most of the work… but on the other hand, when would they get another chance like this?
"Mmm… Harry?"
No answer. He seemed to be truly exhausted.
"Harry?" she called, more insistently.
An annoyed grunt came in response, but Hermione wasn't about to back down, even if it was a bit cruel towards him. Besides, she was sure he'd be glad in the end. They'd both have plenty of time to catch up on their sleep later when they returned to the "real" world, and it would be much better to make good use of the time they had left.
At any rate, they definitely weren't planning on returning to the Hospital Wing today, even if it was against the rules. Because… seriously, what could they even do to them for it? Give them detention? Pfft… please.
"I think I'm becoming cynical," Hermione tried to feel guilty about it, but couldn't manage it.
The things she and Harry were doing here were already against school rules, so one more rule broken hardly mattered…
"Harry?" she said for the third time, at full volume.
"Nghr…" he groaned thickly, forcing his eyelids open. "What?"
"Are you asleep?"
"Yes," he rolled his eyes, annoyed.
"I see," she looked down demurely, actually hiding a smile. "I was just thinking…"
He waited silently for her to finish her sentence, but Hermione could see he was a bit irritated and still had no idea what was going on.
Oh, this was going to be fun…
"Harry… want to come with me?"
"Er… come where?"
"To the shower," she gave him an innocent smile from under her lashes.
"The shower?" Harry blinked in his owlish way and pushed himself up on his elbow, then sat all the way up.
For a full minute, the entire thought process played out on his face before it finally dawned on him.
"You… er… want us to shower… like… together?"
"Hmm… maybe," she was taking immense pleasure in teasing him. "So, are you coming or what?"
"Huh? Yeah! Yes, of course!"
Giggling at his suddenly awakened enthusiasm, Hermione was the first to dash for the door that had just appeared, leading them into a spacious bathroom decorated in a modern Muggle style with light walls and high ceilings, subtle pink and gold accents. And although this design clashed sharply with the "hunting lodge" behind them, Hermione still found it stunning.
"Whoa. Did you wish for this?" Harry looked around, trying to take in the huge room. It was probably the biggest bathroom he'd ever seen in his life, including the Hogwarts communal showers.
"Yes. What do you think?"
"Well, it's not bad… Blimey, is there even a pool in here?"
There was indeed a jacuzzi built into the floor – Hermione had seen one in "Parent Trap" and a couple of other films, but never in real life, so she'd always wanted to try one. She didn't know the exact mechanics of these mini-pools, only that they somehow released air bubbles from the bottom, and she hoped the Room would just figure it out. After all, they hadn't thought through every detail of the books and magazines they wanted – they just had to mentally ask for them…
A toilet, a sink, and a spacious shower cubicle were located behind a white-painted wooden partition, which wasn't a proper room, but it did allow Hermione and Harry to freshen up with relative privacy. To be honest, Hermione hadn't really thought this particular part through when she decided to invite Harry, so she just pretended not to be listening to him urinate at all. She also desperately tried to think of anything else while she was peeing herself… As close as she and Harry were, this was one aspect she wasn't quite ready to share with him completely.
Once that was done, they both, still naked, climbed into the jacuzzi one after the other.
"Mmmmm…" Hermione moaned contentedly as the hot, bubbly water first enveloped her body to her knees, then to her chest, and finally to her neck as she descended the steps to the very bottom and sat on the bench.
Harry, sitting opposite her, let out a similar happy sigh and leaned his head back against the soft rim of the huge tub. The jacuzzi was round and large enough to easily fit them both, but not so large that they could accidentally drown in it, as had nearly happened to Hermione last time when she'd decided to take a bath.
A pleasant steam rose from the water, smelling subtly of some summer herbs and a hint of pine, as if some relaxing potion had been added. Hermione and Harry happily stretched out their legs, letting their tired muscles recover in the swarm of bubbles gently massaging their skin.
"This is the life…" Harry drawled, closing his eyes.
"Don't fall asleep again," Hermione warned, remembering her own unfortunate experience.
"Oh, piss off…"
She playfully splashed water at him.
"Hey!" Harry slapped the surface of the tub, sending drops onto Hermione's hair.
"Hey to yourself!" she splashed back, unconsciously using a bit of magic so that he was now soaked too.
Splash for splash, and soon they were engaged in a full-blown water fight, like a pair of giggling five-year-olds. Hermione used a rapid-fire tactic, waving her palms towards Harry and sending an endless stream of tiny splashes his way, while he tried to aim his shots, though less frequently. Finally, he cupped his two hands together and plunged them into the water, dousing his opponent with a powerful wave.
Hermione spluttered like an otter as the water got in her mouth and eyes, completely disorienting her for a few seconds, which Harry immediately took advantage of.
"Aaaah!" she squealed loudly in surprise as he grabbed her by the waist, pulling her towards him, causing them both to nearly lose their balance.
Clinging to each other and laughing wildly, they settled side-by-side on one bench, still not letting go of their embrace. Hermione's lips found Harry's, giving him a hot, water-tasting kiss, which he was quick to return. Pressing their wet bodies together, they embarked on a session of long, sweet, wonderfully slow kisses, their tongues twining like a pair of snakes, lost in their shared taste.
Hermione's palms slid over Harry's wet shoulders and neck, while his fingers massaged the back of her neck, sending sparks through her nerve endings. He stroked her cheeks with his thumbs and gently traced them under her eyelids, caressing her cheekbones before leaving little silly kisses there. He treated her with such reverence, literally worshipping her with every touch, that it made her head spin.
Until recently, Hermione had had no idea how much unspent love was actually hidden in this boy, until the full force of his feelings suddenly crashed down on her alone, like a storm, pulling her down to the very bottom of the sea.
There was no coming back from this, but Hermione didn't want to return. She wanted more. All of it. Whatever he was going to give her, she was ready to take it – and give it back tenfold.
So she stroked him back with the same fervent desire, pressing herself tightly against him, trying with every movement to show him how much she loved and wanted him. Every one of his embraces, every kiss, every "I love you" that fell from his lips, she reinforced with her own responsive gesture – and so on, endlessly, until they both felt the space between them rapidly heating up again, and they could no longer make do with simple caresses.
Pinning Hermione against the side of the bath, Harry kissed her neck and collarbones as his hands roamed over her chest and ribs, descending inexorably towards her hips. His cock was hard again, already half-erect and pressing against her pubic mound, a clear signal for another round.
"He's so passionate," Hermione thought, taking him in her hand and stroking him back and forth, which made Harry's breath hitch and he let out a soft groan.
To be honest, "passionate" was a huge understatement. Knowing the general numbers now, Hermione was genuinely amazed at how much sexual power Harry had in reserve. She couldn't recall exactly how many times they'd had sex in the last few days, but it seemed to her that he had cum inside her at least five or six times during that period, with rather short intervals between some ejaculations – something like thirty to forty minutes, which was... well... very good, to say the least.
It was almost certainly his age... or perhaps the Ritual was making him "stand up" much more often than the statistical average...
A very faint and weak optimistic little voice in Hermione's head squeaked that maybe Harry just found her really attractive, so his body was reacting to her presence accordingly, but she quickly dismissed that idea as unrealistic.
Of course, she already knew she attracted him – he'd told her so himself several times, but let's be serious – she wasn't some kind of sex symbol or anything. At Hogwarts, there were plenty of girls much prettier than her – in figure and face, not to mention their way of dressing, putting on makeup, and presenting themselves in society – so it must just be that Harry was a very young and naturally passionate boy...
Did that mean, however, that he would... react similarly to other girls too? To those who were better and more attractive than Hermione?
Hermione's hand froze on top of Harry's cock, ceasing its stroking.
"Er... Everything alright?" he asked after a minute, when he realised he was no longer being caressed or kissed, and that his partner was for some reason staring blankly into space.
Hermione flinched as if caught doing something reprehensible and tried to banish the unwelcome thoughts from her head.
Where the hell had they even come from?!
Why had she decided Harry would be interested in anyone but her? So what if she wasn't as pretty as others? She was smart and she loved him back! He'd told her so many times how much he liked her... They had only just started to get serious in their relationship, and everything had been going so well so far... so why was she suddenly doubting?
No, this was stupid. She was being stupid.
The thought that had suddenly entered her head without any serious reason, that Harry would, out of the blue, start chasing after other girls the first chance he got, was just ridiculous.
"Harry's not like that. He's the most loyal and honest... He'd never lie to me about what he feels or see someone else behind my back."
"It's fine," Hermione forced a smile and hurried to kiss Harry again, to which he responded with enthusiasm, leaning over her once more.
His hands moved lower and lower down her body until they found her arse and squeezed it as if it were a pair of soft, sweet buns. Gasping, Hermione pushed towards him, opening her hips to let him get even closer, his cock nudging against her labia.
The water continued to bubble and froth around them, tickling them with thousands of bubbles and almost completely hiding what was beneath the surface. Because of this, their sensations were a little blurred, but at the same time, the very atmosphere of the place added a special piquancy and romance to their actions.
"What if... we did it right here in the water? Is it even safe?"
She hadn't thought to ask the Room about something like that, but with every passing minute, the idea seemed more and more tempting to her. Today, she and Harry were both very determined and open to experiments, more than ever... Maybe it was time for them to conduct their own "field research"?
Deciding to be bold, Hermione took Harry's penis in her hand again and slid along it, squeezing slightly to imitate the way her muscles pressed on him when he entered her. As she did this, she watched closely as his face contorted with pleasure, trying not to miss a thing.
It was so fascinating to watch him!
The fact that it was she – her hands and her touch – that was making Harry literally melt from the rolling ecstasy gave Hermione a strange sense of pride in her chest.
"Her... ah... Hermione..."
"Is that good?"
"Oh, yes..."
"Want me to go a bit faster?"
"Y-yes... yes, please..."
She quickened her pace, wanking him with effort, so the water churned even more, and Harry began to groan out loud, instinctively thrusting into her palm. Hermione's own crotch had long been pulsing with desire, but she was too curious watching Harry at the peak of pleasure, so she continued to touch him, speeding up then slowing down, periodically changing the strength of her grip, gradually stripping him of all will or any coherent thought.
She, however, also carefully made sure not to bring him to the edge too soon. When you thought about it, it was a bit unfair, because it took much more effort for her to climax, whereas for Harry it… well… came so easily. Though when you considered that statistically, many British women never have an orgasm in their entire lives, she was, one might say, very lucky...
"It must be Harry. He's just... too magical," Hermione silently giggled at her own joke.
Then again... don't they say there's a bit of truth in every joke?
Harry was a special boy. A truly magical one.
It wasn't always easy or even good, and some things about his character were still hard to understand, not to mention that a part of his past awakened a side of Hermione's personality she never knew she had... But Harry really was special – at least, he always had been to her. Even before they got married, started dating, and had sex five times a day.
"Mione... s-shit... oh... oh, fuck!.."
She stopped moving her hand abruptly just a few seconds before Harry was about to cum. His ribs rose and fell heavily and rapidly, and his face was wet not just from the water but from his own sweat. The look he gave Hermione was dazed and fierce, but at the same time, a pathetic whine escaped his lips, begging her to continue.
"So easy," Hermione smirked, and parted her legs wider before confidently guiding him inside herself.
"O-oh..."
Gripping the edge of the bath with his hands, Harry began to thrust into her hard and fast – as fast as the water in the tub would allow. Hermione wrapped her arms around Harry's neck, pressing her cheek to his, breathless from the sensation of him pounding against her inner walls. It was always a bit of a shock and a revelation to her, especially in the first few minutes, as he stretched her, shaping her channel with his own hard flesh.
The natural lubrication from her vagina was now mixing with the running water, creating a kind of additional pressure inside that made the touches of his cock less sharp and deep, but at the same time, it made it easier for them to balance together, because the water took some of their usual weight.
They continued like that for a while – Hermione in a semi-sitting position with a standing Harry, who was trying his best to overcome the water's resistance and impale her on himself. Before long, however, it began to dawn on her that in practice, the whole thing was far less comfortable and fun than it had looked in her head.
And, judging by Harry's increasingly strained face, he wasn't exactly thrilled with how it was turning out for them either. The water seriously hindered his movements, preventing him from entering Hermione with the necessary speed, and it also instantly washed away all the slickness her pussy managed to produce, so very soon the feeling of friction became completely unbearable for them both.
"Crap," Harry stopped, breathing heavily and tiredly resting his forehead against Hermione's, completely unable to continue. "Sorry, it's just... ugh... really difficult..."
"Don't apologise," Hermione whispered. "It was a stupid idea anyway."
"No, I liked it!" he tried to lie, but he wasn't very good at it. "I think it's... uh... really cool. I'm just... I'm weak and..."
"Harry," she stopped him before he could start talking nonsense and blaming himself for all mortal sins.
Cupping his face in her hands, she kissed him deeply and passionately – and didn't let go until she felt him relax in her arms again. After that, Hermione pulled away from him and stated firmly, looking him right in the eyes:
"You're not to blame for anything, okay? You're not weak. We just picked the wrong spot, that's all."
"Yeah... I guess," he smiled weakly, agreeing uncertainly. "Probably it's one of those things that... er... sound better in your head than in reality."
Harry carefully withdrew from her, trying not to cause any more discomfort than he already had, and sat down beside her. Hermione found his hand and intertwined their fingers, then kissed his knuckles, drawing another embarrassed smile to his face. Heaving a deep sigh, he slid lower down the side of the jacuzzi and rested his head on Hermione's shoulder, closing his eyes.
He was still hard – Hermione could see it through the water, but neither of them wanted to continue right now. Perhaps they would have sex again... probably very soon... but it definitely would not be in the pool.
Chapter 53Notes:This chapter contains a couple of lines in French... well, sort of. Sorry, I have no idea what I'm doing, lol
Chapter TextTo say they had a lot of sex that day would be a serious understatement.
Barely having escaped that disastrous bubble bath, where Harry had essentially disgraced himself with his frail body and nearly rubbed his cock raw, they both immediately moved back to the bed, picking up exactly where they had left off.
Lying on his side next to Hermione, Harry spent some time just rubbing her pussy with his fingers, gently yet insistently touching her tiny clit to make it hard and draw a flow of wetness from inside her vagina. It was this wetness that had always been the main indicator for him that he was doing everything right and that his girlfriend was just as aroused and wanted him to fuck her as badly as he did.
Only when Hermione started breathing raggedly and heavily again, and then began to moan softly, and lubrication was pouring freely from between her thighs, did Harry finally climb on top of her and slide in smoothly.
They moved in a single, steady rhythm, already so accustomed to this sweet horizontal dance for two, exchanging generous kisses and gentle caresses, trying very hard not to rush... right up until arousal took over, and they sped up, and Harry started pounding into Hermione in a rough, raw way, fucking her to loud cries, slamming his hips against hers until she desperately rubbed her own clit in pursuit of her own pleasure.
Just like last time, they came almost simultaneously, without breaking eye contact. His balls tightened and shot a stream of sperm, leaving another generous portion inside her womb – god knows how many over these past few days.
Moaning one last, long time, Harry collapsed on top of Hermione, making residual thrusts inside her for a few more seconds before stopping completely. His chest was heaving from the frantic beating of his heart, and he could feel Hermione's equally fast heartbeat right next to him.
Still worried that he might have somehow hurt her back in the bathroom, Harry carefully pulled out of her and lay down beside her so he could see her face, even if it was a bit blurry because his glasses were still lying somewhere with his other things.
From the angle he was looking at Hermione now, she seemed quite satisfied with their latest encounter and peaceful. She was a little sweaty and tired, but just as beautiful, with her eyelids closed, lips swollen from kissing and slightly parted, and a flushed face...
"Harry, you're staring," she muttered without opening her eyes.
"I'm not staring," he smiled, not at all embarrassed to have been caught. He didn't mind to watch Hermione all day long. "I'm admiring."
"Pfft... Flattery doesn't suit you," despite the skepticism in her voice, she couldn't hold back a pleased smile.
Harry already knew that she secretly loved it when he complimented and praised her, even though she tried to pretend otherwise. Sometimes he was amazed at how easy she was to read.
"No, I'm telling the truth! I love looking at you when you're like this," he said honestly.
"Like what?"
"When you're all relaxed, soft, and..."
"Hmm?"
"...well-fucked."
"Harry!" Hermione gasped, her eyes flying open in shock.
She turned to him, her whole expression radiating indignation, but instead of an embarrassed face, she was met with his wide grin.
Harry himself was amazed where he got the bravado and audacity to say such filthy things to her, but he just couldn't keep silent, because that was exactly how he saw her now – fucked out. Absolutely and completely satisfied. Sated. Languid...
Healthy.
At that moment, she was exactly how he always wanted to see her – full of life and colour, and it filled him with immense relief and satisfaction – even more than the sex itself.
When he saw her that day in the Muggle hospital, so weak and lifeless, with greyish skin, hooked up to all those machines that breathed for her, Harry vowed to himself that he would never again let her be on the brink of death because of his actions or inaction.
He was prepared to do literally everything in his power to ensure she lived as long as possible and was happy.
"What? I thought you had a little bit of pleasure this time," he drawled, feigning thoughtfulness as he teased her.
"Oh my god..." Hermione shook her head, still stunned.
"Or no? Hmm... I guess we'll have to try again, just to be sure..." he made as if to kiss her again, at which she swatted him away with feigned irritation, trying to hide the growing amusement.
"God... you're such a dog!"
"Oh, come on. And which one of us was it that thought having sex in the bath was a good idea?"
"We already established that was a bad idea," Hermione pouted.
"Are you sure? One hundred percent sure?" Harry allowed himself to tease her a little more, simply because her red face was too funny to pass up.
"Definitely. A huge mistake. Never again."
"Well, it wasn't that bad..."
"Seriously, Harry?"
"Uh... alright," he finally admitted with a sigh. "It was pretty awful, actually."
"Exactly," she said, shaking her head and leaning back against the pillows to look at the ceiling.
"She called me a dog, but she still didn't say no to having sex again," Harry smiled to himself.
He glanced again at the girl next to him, who had already closed her eyes again and was breathing evenly, resting after their morning 'marathon'. She looked peaceful... She looked happy. Harry loved that.
* * *
In the end, he did eventually launch himself at her with kisses a short while later, simply because it was too hard to resist, though this time it was genuinely just a game, not an attempt to sleep with her again… well, not right now, at least.
Not only Hermione, but Harry himself was pretty knackered, especially after the bit in the jacuzzi. And on top of that, their stomachs were both starting to insist rather forcefully that it was time for a late breakfast or something. They weren't entirely sure what time it was, as it hadn't occurred to either of them to ask the Room for a clock.
Yielding to a hunger that, for once, had nothing to do with sexual desire, Harry hastily threw on some trousers and a t-shirt before heading back out to call Dobby again and get another giant tray piled high with all sorts of food. He didn't ask for "a bit of everything," remembering the last time when Dobby had taken him quite literally and brought absolutely everything, but simply wished for "something light for two" – and even so, the over-enthusiastic house-elf managed to bring him what looked like an entire fridge.
"I'll have to thank Dobby properly later," Harry thought, staggering under the weight of his load. "I wonder what you give house-elves as a present?"
He should probably ask Hermione about it – she'd surely have loads of brilliant ideas. And if they couldn't think of anything, they could always ask the Room...
While he was sorting out the provisions, Hermione had already managed to take a quick shower and change into a white, fluffy bathrobe, which made it feel as if they were in some posh hotel. After a moment's thought, Harry followed her example – it was nice to wash off the sweat and everything else, even if they were both bound to get messy again soon enough...
"Oysters?" Hermione prodded the hard shell with the gelatinous mollusc inside with some distaste when Harry rejoined her on the bed.
By unspoken agreement, they'd decided to eat right there, because sitting at a table seemed like too much of a faff right now, and besides… who was going to stop them? Exactly, no one.
"Looks like it," Harry replied, also eyeing the food in front of him, which for some reason did indeed feature a lot of seafood, along with red meat, various vegetables, fruit, fatty fish, and a whole scattering of nuts. "I think there's mussels and prawns, too..."
"I'm not terribly fond of them," Hermione wrinkled her nose and decisively pushed the plate of shellfish towards him. Instead, she selected the largest strawberry from a nearby bowl.
"Oh? Why?"
Harry found himself staring, mesmerised, as she took a bite of the red berry, chewed, and then let out a soft, contented moan... He was trying, as best he could, to make his interest in the spectacle less obvious... which was rather difficult, because the damned berry was very large and very ripe, and its pinkish juice was trickling down Hermione's chin, and...
"Bugger."
By all rights, it should have looked disgusting, but instead, it looked... strangely captivating. Harry shifted awkwardly on his side of the bed, trying to distract himself from the slowly growing tension in his groin.
What in the name of god damn fuck was this?! They couldn't just spend all their time having sex and nothing else! They had to rest sometimes, for Christ's sake...
To stop thinking about anything of the sort, Harry decisively speared the gelatinous mass in the centre of the shell with his fork and popped it into his mouth.
"Hmm... This is not so bad, actually. Are you sure, you don't want a bite?"
The oyster tasted a bit rubbery, but not particularly vile. It wasn't exactly delicious, but when you'd spent most of your childhood nicking food from bins, you stopped being picky.
"No, thanks. I had a bad experience with them once as a kid," Hermione chuckled before popping another berry into her mouth. "I was about six, I think... We were staying at my grandmother's in Calais, but I was horribly sick almost the entire time, and Mum had to stay with me for a week. Worst holiday of my life."
"Mm-hm…" Harry mumbled thoughtfully with his mouth full.
He chewed the oyster carefully, then speared a couple more battered prawns and ate them too, which were actually quite tasty. His jaws worked faster as he tried to force out any thoughts of Hermione, who was devouring strawberries with no ulterior motive just twenty centimetres away from him.
"Right, that's enough. Better focus on what she said. Seafood... and something about her relatives in Calais... Hmm... Calais, that's a French name, isn't it?"
If so, did that mean one of Hermione's grandmothers had lived in France? That was... unusual. None of the people he knew lived in other countries, and Harry himself had never been abroad.
When he asked Hermione about it, she surprised him even more by saying smoothly, without the slightest accent:
"Ma grand-mère, ch'est une Française. Achain, avec mon grand-père, i sont à l'côte."
"Are you speaking French just now? What does that mean?"
"Oui. I said that one of my grandmothers is French. She and grandad met in a hospital during the war, and he moved to be with her a few years later. Mum, Dad, and I visit them and the rest every summer… well, we used to," she frowned, as if remembering something. "I'm not sure we'll be going this year."
"Because she'll be due to give birth this summer," Harry realised and swallowed nervously. The prawns in his mouth suddenly tasted like cardboard.
"Anyway," Hermione continued with forced cheerfulness after a pause, "besides my mum and Uncle Antoine, all her other brothers and sisters live in France now. Grandad's always grumbling that my dad 'stole his daughter and made her live in this damp bog he himself so luckily escaped'," she snorted, as if repeating some old family joke.
Everything she'd just told him sounded surreal to Harry. As a complete orphan raised by a hostile and cantankerous aunt, all he knew was that Petunia and his mother, Lily, had once lived in Cokeworth, but that was a long time ago, before he was even born.
From that, he figured his maternal grandparents must have lived in Cokeworth too, but Harry didn't know if they were born there or had moved from somewhere else. He'd never even seen a photo of them, because Petunia kept all the family albums locked away, out of his reach, as if he might somehow corrupt them or something. And of course, she never told him anything about the Evanses or what his grandmother's maiden name was. Harry didn't know if Petunia and Lily had cousins or other relatives who might also be distant relatives of his own…
As for the other half of his family, the Potters, he knew just as little, if not less. Although Hagrid had gave him that wonderful photo album in his first year, which Harry wouldn't trade for anything in the world, it was filled exclusively with pictures of Lily and James – mostly from their school days – and no other Potters at all.
Did that mean they were all dead, too? If so, did that mean James Potter had also been an orphan, just like Harry…
Harry wished so much he knew even a little bit more about his parents! Everyone he'd dared to ask about them always said the same thing – that they were "great people and very powerful wizards", but that was so little… He would have given anything to learn some small detail about them, something that would make them seem more like real people in his mind, not just two faded figures in old photographs.
They smiled so brightly in those moving, silent pictures… Sometimes Harry wondered what they were so happy about in that exact moment. Didn't they know… couldn't they feel how it would all end for them? Why the hell were they so fearless?!
In moments like these, he would actually get angry with them for it, even though he knew it was stupid. How could they have known that Voldemort would come and kill them, believing a one-year-old baby was a threat to him? Who could possibly imagine something like that?! It was complete madness!
Essentially, as of today, every one of his blood relatives, aside from the Dursleys, was dead, which meant he had absolutely no one to ask about his roots.
It was all the more surprising, then, to learn that Hermione not only had living grandparents in France, but also a whole host of uncles and aunts, and probably cousins, too… For some reason, Harry had always thought of her as someone whose family consisted solely of her parents, but it turned out she probably had no fewer relatives than Ron.
"So, does that make you half-French?" he asked, having done some quick mental arithmetic.
Hermione shook her head:
"Actually, only a quarter. My grandad, my mum's dad, is from Aberdeen. And Dad's parents both used to live in Newcastle. We moved after they died when I was three years old. I didn't remember them much…"
"Blimey."
Harry wasn't sure yet how he felt about all of this. Well, of course, it was great that Hermione had such a big family… But did it mean he'd have to meet all these people someday too? And if so, how would they even react to the shocking news that Hermione had married a schoolboy they didn't even know?!
Not knowing what to say to break the silence, Harry said without any subtext:
"I've never been to the seaside."
"Really?" Hermione looked at him, and he thought he saw a hint of sadness in her eyes.
"Yeah," he shrugged. "Well, apart from that time Uncle Vernon took us all to an island a year ago to stop the owls from finding us... er... it's a long story," Harry gave an awkward laugh and quickly added, "Anyway, I was practically asleep by then, so I barely remember anything."
"Damn, why did I even bring that up? Now she's going to start pitying me again..."
The room fell silent for a couple of minutes until Hermione jumped off the bed with a determined look on her face.
"Come on!" she grabbed Harry's hand and, without asking, started pulling him, leading him out of the bedroom and into the bathroom.
"You..."
"Is she going to repeat the jacuzzi experiment?"
His heart started beating harder in his chest, and he felt a heaviness in his groin, but he also started to worry. His previous experience with sex in the water hadn't been particularly pleasant, and Harry wasn't sure he'd be able to do better a second time, especially so soon.
"No, of course not," Hermione said impatiently, waving it away.
"Huh?"
"Just let me..." she trailed off, screwing her eyes shut and silently muttering something to herself for about a minute. "Right, I think that's it."
She pulled the handle again, and the moment they crossed the threshold, the fresh, salty breeze hit them right in their faces.
* * *
"What is this place?" Harry froze in the doorway, his mouth agape, staring in astonishment at the Room's interior, which now looked like a small, old-fashioned bedroom with double French doors that opened onto an absolutely incredible view of a sandy beach, dotted with sparse clumps of grass.
"The sea..." Hermione was staring at it all just as dumbfounded as he was, even though she was the one who had wished for it. "Harry, it's really the sea!"
"The sea?! But how is that possible?"
"I don't know, but it's definitely Pas-de-Calais... or at least, how I remember it. I'm not sure yet if the Room creates images from our minds or makes some kind of projection of real places... which seems impossible in either case, considering Heisenberg's uncertainty principle..."
"Er... English, please?"
"This place looks exactly like the bedroom at my grandparents' house in France," Hermione explained in response to his bewildered look.
"Really? Wow! It's nice in here... very cosy."
He wasn't even lying. The Room did look wonderful – small but pleasant, with beige wallpaper featuring a barely visible floral print and high ceilings. Here and there on the walls hung several paintings in simple frames depicting watercolour seascapes, and all the furniture was wooden, carved, and rather worn, but still perfectly usable.
A large part of the space was taken up by a wide double bed, covered with light-coloured bedspreads, above the headboard of which hung a modest oak crucifix, and on one of the bedside tables stood an old alarm clock.
A small radio, the kind they made somewhere back in the fifties, rested on a doily-covered chest of drawers next to a floral vase and a stack of hardback books. There was even a small writing desk and a rickety-looking chair, on the back of which hung someone's forgotten shirt, as if the room's owner had just stepped out for a moment and would be back soon...
Bright rays of summer sun crept across the worn Persian rug and the floorboards, while a gentle breeze made the semi-sheer muslin curtains sway slightly, and the whole place simply breathed with peace and tranquillity...
However, as nice as the room itself was, Harry's eyes were glued to the strip of water outside the doors.
"D'you think we can go out there?" He whispered, gazing in fascination at the water, which glittered in the sun as it lapped quietly against the shore. It felt no more than a hundred metres away.
"Hmm... If you consider that a beach is a natural feature, not man-made, then..." Hermione hesitated, then shook her head. "I really don't know. I suppose there's only one way to find out, right?"
Exchanging a look, they crossed the room to the doors in a few strides and stopped there, unsure if it was safe to go any further.
Harry was the first to reach out his hand – he could already feel the warmth of the sun on his skin and clearly hear the cries of gulls circling in the clear blue sky...
"Harry, wait!" Hermione's warning cry sounded anxiously beside him. "We don't know what's really in there..."
"Well, technically we're still not leaving the Room, are we?"
"Yes, but..."
"Then it should be fine," he couldn't be sure, of course, but he wanted to get to the 'sea' too badly to back down now. "Dobby said the Room can turn into anything except food..."
"...and water," Hermione reminded him.
"Hmm... right. But I think he meant drinking water."
"And the sea has salt water," she picked up, frowning. That sounded logical, so she couldn't think of an objection. "Fine... Okay. Just be careful…"
Just in case, they both had their wands tucked away in the pockets of their robes. Harry wasn't sure how they'd use them if they did run into danger... He hoped they'd figure it out as they went.
"Right... well, here goes," taking a deep breath, he lifted his leg and slowly stepped over the threshold, placing his foot on the sand until he was completely 'outside'.
"It's real!" Harry's heart leapt with joy as he realised he was actually standing on the beach, surrounded by a vast space full of light, blue, and fresh air, as if he had truly found himself by the sea.
"Hermione, come here!" he turned and grabbed her hand.
It was like that book about the wardrobe and the lion, only he and Hermione hadn't ended up in a snowy land, but on a real, hot beach in the height of summer. And even though this was the northernmost part of France (or its projection), the weather here was just perfect, warm enough but not stiflingly hot, and simply ideal for a walk.
Shedding their robes, they raced to the sea, the hot sand stinging their bare feet, and plunged into the cool water with loud squeals and laughter. Harry couldn't swim, but even that didn't stop him – he happily jumped in the water, pushing off the bottom, while Hermione swam in circles around him.
"Harry, this is incredible! I can't believe it!"
He couldn't believe it either, and yet, everything here seemed absolutely, one hundred percent real. The waves, the wind, the sand, the vast sky above them, even the gulls and cormorants – every detail looked and felt as real as they were. It was hard to even imagine what kind of magic was required to create something like this…
In the end, it didn't really matter what it was. All Harry knew was that the place was bloody brilliant, and he couldn't wait to explore every corner of it.