Discovering Love
Anonymous
Summary:
From the moment he jumped on the back of the troll, she decided that he was hers.
Relationship:
Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Additional Tags:
Explicit Sexual ContentComing of AgeMasturbationUnderage sexual explorationDream SexFrottageConsensual Underage SexLoss of VirginityHermione Granger Loves Harry PotterPossessive Hermione GrangerJealous Hermione GrangerPraise KinkKink ExplorationBook 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of AzkabanBook 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of FireAnd perhaps moreYule Ball (Harry Potter)Soul BondFluff and SmutSex AddictionMinor Parvati Patil/Dean ThomasMinor Lavender Brown/Seamus FinniganVoyeurism
Chapter 1: Decisions, Actions, Consequences
Chapter Text
"Hermione?"
"Harry? Is it just you?"
"It's just me," he confirmed. Ron had been banned from visiting Hermione in the Hospital Wing after he made an insensitive comment about her whiskers.
"You can come in."
He stepped around the screen that Madam Pomfrey was keeping around her bed. She lay there, whiskers still attached to her face and still mostly covered in dark fur. "How are you feeling?" he asked, sitting in the empty chair beside her bed.
"It itches," she groaned. "This fur is..." She shifted beneath the sheet that was covering her. She had taken off the hospital gown on the first day, since the material had been aggravating her fur to no end, and she was already too warm with her body fully covered.
"I'm sorry to hear that," Harry said glumly. He gestured to a bald patch on her shoulder. "At least it's starting to come off in places."
"Too slowly," she grumbled. "What did I miss in class?"
He filled her in on the content of their classes for the day, and then reached into his bag for his Charms book. They would get through as much of their homework together as they could before Pomfrey kicked him out.
He opened the book on his lap, and she sat up to look alongside him. As the sheet fell to her waist, however, his gaze got stuck on another bald patch, this one lower than her shoulder and towards the middle of her chest. The skin beneath the fur curved at an odd angle.
She caught his stare. "What?" Then she followed his gaze to the bald patch.
"It's, er..." Harry caught himself, snapping his gaze to the book.
She rubbed at the fur around the bald spot, and more of it fell away. She gave a happy little gasp, rubbing more aggressively, and Harry stared as more of the little hairs shed off to reveal the skin underneath.
"Finally," she sighed happily, bringing her other hand up and rubbing all over her torso. Not all of the fur came off, but much of it did, and Harry couldn't look away as more of his best friend's body was revealed.
But then she caught his stare again, and froze, her arms coming up across her chest. "Harry!"
He quickly looked away, his eyes blown wide. "Sorry."
She pulled the sheet up to her shoulders, frowning at him.
"You've, er... You've got... I didn't know that you had..."
"That I have what?"
Keeping his gaze off of her, he gestured to his own chest, his hand imitating the curves that he lacked.
"That I have breasts? I'm thirteen, Harry. I've had them for over a year now."
He was quite sure that his face was bright red by now. "Right. Of course."
"Honestly," Hermione muttered, shaking her head. "Can we focus on the work, please?"
"Yes," he replied hurriedly, forcibly returning his attention to the book on his lap. But focus refused to come, because his brain refused to forget about what he had just seen of her body.
He knew that she could tell he wasn't focusing, of course, and he guessed that she knew why, but she didn't say anything about it until Madam Pomfrey showed up to shoo him out.
"Don't tell Ron," she said as he left.
"Don't tell him what?"
"You know what." At his confused look, she frowned up at Pomfrey and then gestured very subtly towards her chest.
"Oh, right, of course."
xxx
When she finally emerged from the Hospital Wing, sans any fur at all, he had a difficult time not staring. She went pink when she caught him, but gave him a chastising look, and he quickly looked away, throwing himself into the mystery of the diary to keep himself from thinking so much about his best friend's body.
When she got petrified, it felt like a hole had been drilled into the middle of his chest. He reminded himself several times a day that it was only temporary, that the Mandrake Draught would be completed and then she would be fine again.
And, despite her petrification, she still managed to save the day by discovering the nature of the monster in the Chamber of Secrets, and that it could kill Harry if he looked at it. He was able to survive and to win only because of that knowledge.
And then she was free of the petrification, and she ran at him and hugged him tightly, and even though he was so happy to see her, he was still thrown by the feeling of twin mounds beneath her robes that pressed into his ribs. But his body was even happier about it.
The sight and feel of her chest recurred in his thoughts almost nightly as the summer began. These dreams were by far the most pleasant part of his time with the Dursleys, although he often found himself waking up at night due to a certain part of his body pressing rigidly and painfully into the thin mattress. He learned how to fix the problem on his own, drawing out his own pleasure while images of his best friend topless fixed themselves behind his eyelids. He felt a little bit guilty afterwards, like he had used her for something dirty, but he would fall back asleep much more easily when he did it.
xxx
"Not Harry! Please, not Harry!" Harry jerked awake, staring into the darkness that closed in around his bed in the Hospital Wing. The woman's voice echoed in his ears, the desperate pleas sending ripples of cold down his limbs.
"Mum," he whispered into the night. For he knew who that woman was now, and when that screaming had occurred.
Somehow, the dementors had brought back his memory of the night his parents died, when he was merely a year old. A night he should not be able to remember.
He pulled the blanket more tightly around himself, listening to the echo of his mum's pleas fade within his skull. And then he froze, for the movement of the blanket didn't match up entirely with his efforts. Someone else was holding the edge of it, or it was pinned by something.
"Who's there?"
"It's okay, Harry," a voice whispered back. "It's just me."
He relaxed at the familiarity of the voice. "Hermione? What are you doing here?"
She appeared out of thin air beside him, briefly standing from the edge of his bed to pull off what he immediately realized was his own invisibility cloak. "I had to make sure you were alright."
"Of course I'm alright. You already saw me after I fell." A heavy lump formed in his gut at the memory of her and Ron bringing him the shattered remnants of his broom.
"Yeah, but..." She trailed off. A few seconds of silence passed before she asked, "Could I lie down with you?"
"Er, sure." He moved over to make room for her, and she climbed beneath the blanket, hiding his cloak below it as well. Despite the amount of space that he left for her, she lay down practically atop his arm, her head lying against his shoulder. "Hermione?"
"I was so scared, Harry. When you fell, I thought..." She moved even closer to him, pressing herself into his side. "I can't lose you."
"You, er, haven't." His thoughts were largely derailed by the feeling of the twin protuberances on her chest that were pressing against his ribs through the thin material of his hospital gown and whatever she was wearing.
They fell into silence for a while, and he wondered if she was falling asleep. He tried to do the same, but the feel of her breasts was filling his thoughts and causing part of his own body to awaken. Against his better judgment, he moved his free hand—the one not held hostage beneath her—to press gently against the problem through the hospital gown, hoping that it might go back down, but this only caused more of a reaction within himself.
Gently and very silently, he moved his hand a bit, focusing on the feeling of her chest. He shouldn't do this, he knew it. But it wasn't as though he could fall asleep without doing something about the problem, unless he were to risk awakening her by moving her off of him.
"Harry?"
He froze, not even daring to breathe. "Hermione? I... thought you were asleep."
"Are you alright? Your breathing sounds a bit off."
"I'm fine."
She lifted her head, peering at him through the darkness, and he prayed that she couldn't see the blush he could feel on his face.
Several more seconds passed before she asked the next question. "What were you thinking about?"
"Huh?"
"What were you thinking about just now?"
"Nothing," he replied far too quickly.
She scoffed, and some amusement emerged in her voice. "Oh really?"
She studied him more closely, which caused her breasts to press against him more. He could feel how soft they were, and wondered how they would feel without any fabric in the way. Very much against his will, his hand moved a bit over his hardened cock, and his breath stuttered.
She cocked her head, clearly having heard the mistake. "Would you like to amend your answer?"
"What?"
"Would you tell me what you're actually thinking about? Because it clearly isn't nothing."
"No."
"You won't tell me?"
"No."
"Shall I guess then?"
Again, he held his breath. "Erm..."
A few more seconds passed, during which he could feel her eyes boring into him through the darkness. "Were you thinking about my breasts?"
He just barely managed to avoid swearing aloud. Why did she have to be so bloody smart? Or why did he have to be so bloody obvious?
"I'll take that as a yes."
"I'm sorry. It's just that they're, well, there."
She giggled softly. "Well, they are a part of me, so yes, they're there."
"I'm sorry," he repeated.
"Were you really going to masturbate with me lying here?"
That was definitely not something that he could confess to. "No."
Another brief giggle escaped her. "Oh Harry."
"I'm so sorry."
She let out a breath. "It's okay."
"No, it isn't. It's very not okay."
"Considering I'm the one who would be offended, I'm the one to judge whether it's okay or not, aren't I?"
He looked away from her, beginning to hope this was just a bizarre dream. He would very much like to awaken from it now.
Did he actually want to, though?
"Harry, look at me."
Despite his embarrassment, he did as she asked. He could see her expression now, the small smile on her face as she gazed at him. Maybe it was just because of the dark, but she looked extremely cute.
"It's really okay."
"Why?"
"Because I'm a teenager too, remember? I know that it can be difficult to fall asleep sometimes unless you address certain needs."
"You..." He trailed off, images of what she might mean filling his head.
"Yes, Harry, like everyone else our age."
"What do you think about?" he asked.
She balked a bit at the question. "That's a bit personal, isn't it?"
"You asked me first."
"That's true, I suppose I did..." Still, she hesitated.
"So who do you think about?" he pressed, not even noticing that he had changed his question to direct her towards the detail he was most desperate to know.
It was a few more seconds before she answered. "David Bowie," she admitted quietly.
"The singer?"
"He's so much more than just a singer. Have you seen Labyrinth?"
"No."
She gave a disappointed little groan. "We'll have to fix that."
"So, you have a crush on David Bowie?" He felt the sting of jealousy, and refused to contemplate why.
"I've had one for a while."
"Well, I suppose better him than Lockhart."
"Harry!" She lightly slapped his chest, causing him to chuckle. As the sound echoed across the ward, however, they both glanced nervously towards Pomfrey's door.
She hunched down beneath his blanket, and her hand dropped down to his stomach, causing him to suck in a breath. "Hermione..."
"What?" she whispered.
"Your hand."
"What about it?" She shifted it a bit over his stomach, and he gave an embarrassing little gasp. "Is your stomach that sensitive?"
"Er, maybe." He hadn't even realized it himself. Her touch felt very different than his own did.
Her hand kept moving until it encountered his arm, not far from where his hand was still pressing gently on his hard cock. Her fingers brushed over his skin, curling around his forearm.
"It's okay, Harry. Do what you have to do to fall asleep."
"Are you... sure?"
"Yes."
He moved his hand more, his breath stuttering again. Her fingers traced the movements of his muscles in his arm.
Knowing what he really needed, he moved the hospital gown aside so that he could contact himself directly. He let out a groan as his palm brushed over the weeping head of his cock.
Her hand disappeared from his arm, and she moved around a bit at his side. "Lumos." Suddenly, light illuminated the space around them, as well as themselves.
"Hermione!" He quickly pressed the blanket over his cock, hiding it from her sight.
"Light doesn't help?" she asked innocently.
He eyed her. "Why would it? It's not like I don't know where it is."
She met his gaze, and dropped the charade. "I was hoping that I might get to see."
He sighed.
"You've seen my breasts."
"You covered them up just as quickly."
"That isn't true." She pursed her lips, looking down at herself. "Fine then."
He stared as she sat up, unfastening the dressing gown that she was wearing and removing it. Beneath, she was wearing a baby-blue camisole, through which he could clearly see the outlines of her breasts.
But then she lifted the front of the camisole up, baring her chest.
He drank in his first proper look at her breasts. They were a bit larger than they had been last year, although still not as large as those of his chaser teammates. The skin was paler than the rest of her, which provided a delightful contrast to the small, dark-pink nipples.
She gave him several seconds to look before she spoke. "Your turn."
He swallowed and moved the blanket, revealing his cock to her. He had no idea how big or small he was compared to other boys, so he hoped that he measured up, although he doubted whether she would know.
She stared at it, blinking. "It's a bit silly-looking, isn't it?"
"Er, I s'pose." He looked at her breasts again, and his hand slid back towards his cock, yearning to resume touching himself.
"Keep going," she told him, so he did.
Between the sight of her breasts and the feeling of her watching him, it was barely any time at all before he could feel his explosion coming. At the last second, he opted not to wet the blanket, and instead pulled his hospital gown back into place in time to catch the eruption.
Hermione pouted a bit, clearly not happy that the conclusion had been hidden from her view. But then she looked at his face and smiled. "Better?"
"Loads," he breathed, feeling the weariness swoop in.
"Nox." She dropped the front of her camisole back over her chest, then lay back down beside him, as close as she had before. He groaned slightly at the feeling of her breasts pressing against his ribs again, now without the thicker fabric of her dressing gown in the way.
She giggled a bit at his reaction. "I hope you don't mind, I'll wait until you fall asleep before I take care of my own needs."
"You'll... what?" But sleep was coming fast now, depriving him of the option to argue against that.
"Sweet dreams, Harry."
xxx
They didn't talk about it, or repeat what happened. There were some nights where he lay awake in his four-poster, wishing that she would sneak into his bed again. He almost considered lending her his invisibility cloak for the rest of the year to make it easier for her. But she was acting completely normally, as though nothing had occurred, so he forced himself to do the same.
But then Christmas came around and he received the firebolt, and she went behind his back to McGonagall and got it confiscated. He was furious with her, and when she appeared at his bedside that night, in the darkness and silence punctuated by Ron's snores, his first instinct was to yell at her.
"I know why you're upset, Harry," she whispered urgently, picking up his hand and holding it with both of her own. "I understand it. But look at it from my perspective."
He glared at her, unwilling to let whatever she was about to say calm his fury.
"The night you fell off your broom at the quidditch match, I was terrified. You know that, you remember what happened later that same night."
He stilled at the memory, some of the heat of his anger being overtaken by a different kind of heat.
"I had nightmares for a while afterwards, about you falling, about Dumbledore not saving you. I'm scared each time you get on a broom, and that's even if there's no chance that the broom might be cursed."
He pursed his lips, keeping his jaw clenched stubbornly.
"We don't know who sent you that broom, Harry. It might have been Black. We know that he wants to kill you, but he can't get to you in here. So what better way to kill you than to send you a cursed present, one that you would get so excited about that you would want to try it out without checking for curses first?"
He looked away from her, knowing that she was right but very reluctant to admit it.
Taking a chance, she sat down on the edge of his bed, still holding his hand. "I can't lose you, Harry. There are already so many ways that you could die here, please don't add to that list."
After a short war with himself, he looked back at her, seeing a mix of worry and resolve in her eyes. "I'm not going to die, Hermione."
"You'd better not." Turning, she lay down beside him, burying her face in his thick pajama shirt.
"Er..." He stared at the little of her face that he could still see, not knowing what to do.
"I need you." Her words were partially muffled by the fabric.
Letting go of her hand, he cautiously wrapped his arm around her. "Hermione?"
She lifted her face, looking at him. They peered at each other through the darkness, their gazes fixed, and the silence grew denser.
And then she leant in and pressed her lips against his.
xxx
From the moment he jumped on the back of the troll, she decided that he was hers.
No one her own age had ever stood up for her before, much less against a deadly mountain troll. She'd had her parents and teachers as protectors, but her peers had always been her bullies, or else indifferent to how those bullies treated her. Now, suddenly, a boy had risked his own life to save hers.
She decided that she couldn't lose him, that she wouldn't let him go. A week later, she was given the chance to return the favor, and didn't hesitate to sneak behind Snape and set his robes on fire to break the jinx that was threatening to throw Harry off his broom at his first quidditch match. And she continued helping the boy in any way she could, throwing herself into research when he had a mystery to solve, which led to the terrifying and exhilarating adventure at the end of their first year at Hogwarts.
She thought of him often over the summer, especially the hug she gave him in that chamber deep underground. Her dreams would manipulate that memory, prolonging the hug, adding in kisses, adding in little touches... She would wake up in darkness with sweat on her sheets and heat in her belly, and she started teaching herself how to deal with it, imagining that his fingers were exploring her body instead of her own.
She knew that she needed to be very careful about it, however. He was her friend, the third-most important person in her life after her parents. He was also barely twelve, and might not be interested in having a girlfriend yet, so she needed to avoid showing her interest in him and making things awkward between them. To that end, she made a point of exaggerating her interest in Lockhart, a handsome adult celebrity on whom witches all over Britain were crushing. Having a crush on an attractive professor was much easier to explain than having a crush on her twelve-year-old best friend.
But then the humiliating polyjuice accident provided an unexpected opportunity to jumpstart Harry's interest in having a girlfriend.
"I didn't know that you had..."
"That I have breasts? I'm thirteen, Harry. I've had them for over a year now."
She had noticed the bald patch on her chest earlier in the day, and had been delighted when it widened as she rubbed it. But then she stopped, realizing that there was an opportunity here, since Harry would be visiting soon. So she waited, and let the sheet fall when she leant over to look at his book.
She felt embarrassed to be revealing her body to her best friend and crush, and made a show of covering up when she caught his stare, but it was clear that her ploy had elicited the desired impact in his preteen brain. She caught him staring after she finally emerged from the Hospital Wing weeks later, and gave him a chastising look, but she was secretly thrilled.
The following summer, she visited the Continent with her parents. Despite her father's protests, her mother bought a few bikinis for Hermione to wear on the beach, and Hermione caught boys staring at her each time she wore one. She wasn't interested in any of these boys, of course, as her heart firmly belonged to her best friend, but their gazes boosted her confidence, and reminded her of the way Harry had reacted when she briefly revealed her breasts to him in the Hospital Wing. She imagined him staring at her the way these boys were, which led to dreams at night that required further use of her fingers. Her breasts had grown a bit larger, and she wondered if he would notice next time she showed them to him.
She was quite sure that there would be a next time.
And that next time came, although she wished it had been instigated by better circumstances. She was a wreck after his fall, but did her very best to hide it as she and Ron gathered the remnants of his shattered broom and brought them to him in the Hospital Wing. She was deeply relieved to see that he was alright, but that didn't stop the sight of him falling from tormenting her all evening, and she felt compelled to go and see him that night, even if it meant sneaking out and borrowing his invisibility cloak without asking.
By the time he fell asleep, she had nearly completely forgotten the reason for her visit. The sight of his erect cock stood out as much in her mind as it had from his body, and she imagined that it was entering her in place of her fingers as she desperately brought herself a much-needed orgasm. She had lied about her own fantasies, of course, using David Bowie as a convenient celebrity crush the same way she used Lockhart last year. She couldn't let Harry know just yet that she fantasized about him, no matter how desperate she was becoming to feel his lips on hers and his hands on her body... and, eventually, his newly-revealed cock inside of her.
She had no idea if she could fit it inside, given how tight her vagina felt even around her small fingers, but she knew that she was supposed to be able to have sex with him, eventually, and that it was supposed to feel very good.
But her fresh trepidation concerning these mechanics was a boon for her patience. She carefully avoided thinking about Harry that way when they were around others, which was always. Between her overburdened academic schedule and the perpetual presence of Ron, she never got any time alone with him, and she was nervous about sneaking over to go and see him at night again. But then he found out about Sirius Black's betrayal of his parents, and she started worrying for him as much as ever. She stayed at the castle through the holiday break, telling the boys and her parents that it was because she had too much work to do, but she was mostly afraid that Harry would try to go looking for Black to get revenge.
And then he received the firebolt from an unknown sender, and she freaked out, recalling every nightmare she'd had about him falling in the weeks after his quidditch match. She had McGonagall confiscate the broom before he could hurt himself, and then went to him that night rather than let him stay angry at her.
And the kiss finally happened.
After that, he was firmly hers, she was sure of it. She often caught him staring and responded with smiles, and he did his best to ignore Ron's rants about the firebolt and about Crookshanks. She was appalled when Ron presented evidence that Crookshanks had killed and eaten Scabbers, and refused to believe it, but she also appreciated the way that Ron's anger strained his friendship with Harry, who refused to turn against her now. He was even more firmly hers.
But then the second quidditch match came, and she caught him staring at the pretty Ravenclaw seeker, Cho Chang, before the match. By the end of the match, she was absolutely furious at Harry, at Cho, and at the Slytherin morons who had dressed as dementors to try and scare him. She refused to take part in the victory celebrations, citing her workload, and made a show of going to bed in a huff.
Harry needed to be reminded that he was hers.
She waited until her roommates were all asleep, and then got out of bed. Throwing on her dressing gown over her thick winter nightgown, she snuck out and over to his dormitory, entering as silently as she had done last time. Once she was safely behind his curtain, she relaxed, and then slipped off the dressing gown and lay down beside him.
"Harry?" He awoke with a start, and she quickly covered his mouth. "It's alright, it's me."
He mouthed her name against her hand, and she removed it. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm cross with you."
He went very tense. "Why?"
"You thought that Ravenclaw seeker was pretty, didn't you?" Saying it aloud made her feel completely ridiculous for her jealousy.
His eyes went very wide. "Er... Well... I don't reckon she's as pretty as you are."
His hesitation shook her confidence, and she scoffed. "You're just saying that."
"No, I'm not. You really are pretty, Hermione." And then he initiated their second kiss, with as much fervor as she had initiated their first.
She hummed into his mouth, assuaged by his compliment. It didn't matter if he thought Cho Chang was pretty. He also thought that she was pretty, and she was the one that he was kissing here as they lay together on his bed.
On his bed. That part lit up a fresh excitement within her, and she pressed her body against him, feeling the contours of his developing teenage body against hers. Like her, he had dressed for sleeping in a drafty dormitory in the dead of winter, wearing pajamas that were as thick as her gown, but she could feel through both sets of attire as his cock responded to their activity, hardening and pressing insistently into her thigh, so very close to its eventual destination. Her knickers, which were all that she was wearing beneath her gown, were quickly soaked through at that thought.
He moved so that she was on her back, and he was above her, keeping their lips together. His cock landed in the crease between her thighs, and she instinctively opened her legs. Reaching down, she pulled on his hips until his cock was pressing against her own crotch.
Primal instinct was firmly in command now as he moved against her, imitating the dance that they would one day perform without any clothing in the way. She moaned into his mouth, wrapping her arms behind his back and holding him tightly as she rocked with him. She wanted this, she wanted him, so badly that it threatened to make her cry. She wanted to move all their clothes out of the way and take him deep inside, but she knew that she couldn't do that yet.
But her mind did demand more from this moment, to see how much she affected him, to know how firmly he belonged to her. She broke her mouth away from his, gasping as she kept bucking her hips against his hard shaft. "Harry..."
"Hermione..."
"Take out your cock."
His hips stuttered against her, forcing a louder gasp from her chest. "What?"
"Take out your cock, Harry. I want to see you cum."
He stared at her for a moment, but then hurried to do as she asked.
She seized his wand from the nightstand. "Lumos." He didn't hesitate this time as the wandlight illuminated his cock hovering over the front of her gown. "Touch yourself."
He did so, his hand stroking along his hard cock. She watched, thrilled by the fact that she was the one responsible for that arousal.
She had one more detail to add to her request. "I want you to say my name when you cum."
He let out a stuttered breath as he nodded, and they both looked down at his work. She lifted her hips so that the front of her gown nudged against his tip, and a fresh thrill ran through her as a trail of oozing liquid stained the fabric.
"You want to have sex with me, don't you?"
He froze, staring at her.
"I don't mean right now. Eventually."
A flash of disappointment crossed his face, but he nodded. "Yes."
"Good." She kissed him. "We're going to have sex, eventually. You're going to get to push that... that big cock... inside me... somehow..."
He breath stuttered even more. "Cripes, Hermione."
She nudged against him again. "You're so close now. If my nightgown weren't in the way, you could just... just move my knickers aside and... we could do it." Her own heart was pounding away at the thought, and her knickers were so soaked that they were utterly useless.
He buried his face in her neck. "Hermione."
"Are you going to cum, Harry?"
"Yes."
"Are you going to let me watch?"
"Yes."
"Are you going to say my name?"
"Yes."
"Good." She ran her hands over his back. "My Harry, you're so good."
Her hips were moving insistently now, repeatedly pressing against him. Her body felt very hot and very empty, starving for the piece that would fill her up and make her whole.
His movements were becoming more erratic now, his strokes and breathing stuttered. "Hermione," he moaned, and she fixed her gaze on his cock. His strokes sped up, the sound of liquid repeatedly being smeared over his skin becoming audible, his cock glistening as more of his precum was spread all along it.
"Cum, my Harry. Cum for me."
"Hermione!" He seized up, his hand tightening, and then his hips jerked. A jet of white liquid splattered across her gown at point-blank range, followed by another, and then more. "Hermione..." he repeated in a prolonged moan as more and more of the white fluid burst from him. She was stunned by how much of it there was, watching as it created a puddle on the front of her gown above her lower belly. She realized with a jolt that the puddle was directly over her womb, a reminder of what that liquid was intended to do.
"Hermione," he repeated as he fell still, slumping above her. She kept staring at the pool of cum, shocked by what had just happened, what she had instigated.
But her body was still mercilessly hot and empty.
Breaking free of her trance, she kissed his cheek and rolled him off of her. He settled back on his bed beside her, staring at her with a sort of dazed admiration. She decided once again to see to her own needs after he fell asleep, not ready to reciprocate the favor of letting him watch her orgasm just yet.
She pointed his wand at the puddle on her gown. "Tergeo." The liquid disappeared, although a white stain was left behind on the fabric. She decided to leave it there, knowing that no one would see it when she snuck back to her own dormitory. "Nox."
"You're incredible," he breathed sleepily, and she basked in his praise. She doubted that she would have to worry anymore about him staring at other girls now.
He was hers.
She kissed his cheek again. "Go to sleep, Harry." She waited while his body obeyed her command, and then lifted her gown and felt the soaked knickers underneath. Her fingers dipped below the sopping fabric and entered her, and she imagined that it was his cock pushing inside instead.
She was already so wound up that she came the moment she pressed her thumb to her clit. "Harry!" she gasped into the night.
xxx
"Do it. Put it in. Take my virginity."
"Are you sure?"
She stared into the magnificently green eyes of her lover. "Yes. I love you, Harry. Be mine forever."
"I will, Hermione." He kissed her, and then they both looked down, watching as he pressed the head of his cock against her opening.
She swallowed, keeping her legs spread as wide as she could, and gasped as he began burrowing into her. His tip pushed against her most sensitive flesh, stretching her body open to accommodate him.
"AAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHH! NOOOOOOOO!"
She sprang awake, gasping as her blissful dream gave way to darkness and fear. Harry shot up and out of bed beside her, fumbling with his curtains.
"What's going on?" came the voice of Seamus Finnigan as a door slammed. A light went on as Harry managed to wrench his curtains aside, and all eyes in the dormitory fell on Ron, who was sitting up in bed, his pale face completely drained of color, looking as though he'd just had the most terrifying nightmare of his life.
"Black! Sirius Black! With a knife!"
"What?"
"Here! Just now! Slashed the curtains! Woke me up!"
"You sure you weren't dreaming, Ron?"
"Look at the curtains! I tell you, he was here!"
All of the boys scrambled out of bed and sprinted for the dormitory door. Hermione, who hadn't been noticed, followed.
Ron had, of course, woken up the entire tower, and it wasn't long before the common room was full of tired and bewildered Gryffindors and a vexed Percy Weasley was trying to get them to disperse and persuade Ron that he'd simply had a nightmare. And then a very irate Professor McGonagall entered and the confrontation escalated, until she questioned Sir Cadogan and he revealed that he had let in a man who had a scrap of parchment with all of the week's passwords listed on it.
It wasn't until after Neville's humiliating confession and McGonagall's furious departure that Hermione realized she had missed her opportunity to slip over to the side of the crowd that had emerged from the girls' stairs. Seamus and Dean turned and saw her standing behind them, and blinked.
"Were you there the whole time?"
Hermione thought quickly. "I was just coming over to make sure Ron's alright."
The surrounding boys glanced at her in confusion, but seemed to buy her fabrication, at least until Dean looked down and stared at the front of her nightgown. Seamus did the same, and then Hermione looked down to see what had drawn their attention. Her eyes were among the many that fixed on the stain from Harry's cum that was still decorating her gown.
Chapter 2: Whispers and Wanting
Notes:
This feels like a good chapter for a Hump Day (Happy Hump Day!)
Chapter Text
Fortunately, the vast majority of Gryffindor was more concerned about the incursion of Sirius Black than the budding sex life of the Boy-Who-Lived. But that didn't stop some boys from leering at Hermione as she passed through the common room each day, or the rabid giggling of Lavender and Parvati when she came up to the dormitory for bed.
"Are you going to sneak over to your boyfriend's bed again?" Lavender would ask.
"No," Hermione would reply wearily. That was not a mistake that she would make again, as much as she longed to return to Harry's bed, to spend hours snogging him, to have his hard cock between her legs...
During the daytime, at least, she certainly had enough going on to keep her mind off of it. She had added to her already-overloaded schedule by doing research to try to help Hagrid with Buckbeak's upcoming trial. She was using the time-turner more than ever, giving herself unnaturally long days.
Despite the ensuing weariness, she still had to masturbate almost every night, otherwise unable to fall asleep with the memory of his cock pressing against her through her nightgown, bursting out its cum as he fantasized about having sex with her. She would be sure to wait until her roommates fell asleep, and then she would put her fingers to work, imagining his cock moving frantically within her as he kissed her and gasped out her name.
Harry, for his part, was getting quite a bit of ribbing from Seamus and Dean, although they usually ended up having a laugh about it. For boys, unlike for girls, sexual discovery was something to be admired and envied.
Ron, on the other hand, seemed quite intent on ignoring the revelation that Harry hadn't been alone in bed when Sirius Black attacked. He was basking in the attention that he was receiving, telling increasingly exaggerated tales of the incursion, and he didn't want Harry stealing any of his proverbial thunder. He was still glaring at Hermione whenever he saw her, but she found that it didn't bother her all that much when she knew that she would have Harry's support if he tried to row with her.
And Harry was hers.
They did find some private moments, venturing into out-of-the-way corridors in the evenings or trying out some broom cupboards. He was always eager to kiss her, which delighted her, but sometimes she would have him just hold her for a while, and she would feel warm and safe and appreciated in his arms.
She decided against going on the next Hogsmeade trip, reasoning that she could have a much more enjoyable time staying in the castle with Harry. She also didn't want to deal with the stares that she would inevitably receive on the outing, nor did she want to risk Harry attempting to use the Marauder's Map to sneak out of the castle again.
However, they chose not to spend the whole time alone, because Neville had been banned from going to Hogsmeade after his unintentional role in Black's incursion was discovered. Poor Neville was having a terrible time of it, having received a howler from his grandmum in addition to his punishments and being made the laughing stock of the school by the Slytherins. Hermione had dealt with bullying throughout her time in primary school, and was quite capable of ignoring it by now, but Neville had no such advantage and was far more haunted by the taunts that were hurled at him in the corridors and the Great Hall.
So it felt right that Harry and Hermione spend some time with him. They went up to the boys' dormitory, away from the first- and second-years who still stared at Harry's scar, and Neville brought his wizard's chess set over to Harry's bed. He was a more equal opponent for Harry than Ron was, and they got involved in a fairly balanced and prolonged game while Hermione lay her head on Harry's lap, holding her Arithmancy book open on her knees. Occasionally, Harry would run his fingers through her hair, drawing happy little sighs from her.
Eventually, Neville decided that he should leave them be, even though they insisted that he wasn't bothering them. Putting away his chess set, he grabbed his Herbology book and returned to the common room, leaving Harry and Hermione alone on Harry's bed.
Harry gazed at her, and she smiled up at him. Then she sat up, pulling him into a kiss. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, until the lap that had just been her pillow was now her seat.
They weren't wearing their robes, so he had easy access to her body. His hand slipped beneath her shirt, and she moaned softly as his fingers caressed her belly. "That feels good," she whispered against his lips.
His hand rose slowly, tracing her lowest ribs until it stopped just below her bra. It hesitated there.
"Keep going," she told him.
The hand continued, softly touching the fabric of her bra until it was over her breast. He palmed it, squeezing gently.
"Good," she breathed, kissing the corner of his mouth.
Encouraged, he experimented a bit more. His thumb glided above her bra to the soft skin atop her breast, caressing it. It wandered the edge of the fabric, gently pressing beneath to get closer to her sensitive peak.
Reaching her hands beneath the back of her shirt, she unhooked the bra, then lifted it out of the way for him. She sighed happily as his hand landed on her bare breast, kneading and exploring. She shuddered when his fingers glided over her pebbled nipple, so he did it again, before drawing another moan out of her when he caressed the soft, sensitive areola.
His fingers were far less experienced than hers were, of course, but there was something about it that made it even more pleasurable. His unlearned movements weren't dedicated towards speeding her towards a needed orgasm in the dead of night. Rather, he was unhurried and aimless, simply exploring the new territory that she had permitted him to access, and his experimental caresses sent new thrills along her nerves that she hadn't encountered before.
Eventually, he reached his other hand beneath her shirt, aiming for her other breast, but she hesitated when this caused her shirt to ride up and expose her belly and lower back to anyone who might enter the room. "What if Neville comes back up?"
"He won't."
Still, Hermione got off Harry's lap. He flashed a look of disappointment, but that disappeared when she pulled the curtain around his bed. He lay back against his pillow as she climbed back on the bed, and his look of eagerness was so thrilling that she felt compelled to kiss him hard as she straddled him. He moaned into her mouth as she pressed down gently on his crotch, feeling the bulge there.
He was hers, and he wanted her.
With a spur of Gryffindor courage, she took off her shirt, letting her bra fall with it. His eyes went wide as they fixed on her breasts.
"Touch them," she told him after he did nothing but stare for several seconds.
He did so, raising his hands to resume the exploration that one of the hands had blindly begun before. She sighed, shutting her eyes as his fingers found her nipples again, and lightly ground down on him. She wished that she could feel his cock a little more clearly than she could through their twin layers of denim, but she didn't feel quite ready to start stripping off their trousers yet, even if she was already familiar with the sight of his cock.
Abruptly, he leant upwards, his hands dropping to grip her waist as he planted a kiss atop her left breast. She gasped, her own hands scrambling to tug him closer as he placed a second kiss nearer to her nipple.
"Harry!" She ground down on him hard as his lips landed squarely on the target. She began moving her hips frantically on him, his hands assisting her. His lips paused for a moment, but a shove on the back of his head got him to resume the kissing.
"Suck on it," she instructed, and moaned when he did so. Another moan emerged when his tongue prodded the hard nub that was now in his mouth.
Her movements became erratic as she felt desperate to get off, but she wasn't sure if she could with just this. She wanted more. She wanted to see more, at least.
Tugging his head off her breast, she reached down for the bottom of his shirt. "Take off your shirt." He did so, and she drank in the sight of his pale, lean torso. She explored with her eyes and then her hands, feeling the muscles beneath his skin.
"Hermione... that feels good."
Smiling, she leant down and kissed him. Then she remembered something, and dropped her fingers down to his stomach. He gasped and bucked up against her, causing her own gasp in response. "Sensitive," she said teasingly, recalling his reaction when she touched his stomach in the Hospital Wing.
"As if you don't have sensitive places," he replied, returning his lips to her breasts. He kissed across her chest, visiting her other nipple now, and she again tugged his head to her with one hand while her other continued to explore him.
He bucked upwards again, and she resumed moving her crotch over his. Her pleasure was building steadily now, although still too slowly for her liking. Putting a bit of space between their torsos, she shoved her hand down the front of her trousers and underwear, pressing on her clit as she began grinding down more intently.
"Hermione," he moaned, looking intently at where her arm vanished from his view.
"Harry," she replied, grinding harder as her finger moved frantically. And then she repeated his name far more loudly as her orgasm struck, shooting fire and lightning through her body as she pressed herself as tightly against him as she could.
When she came back to her senses, she found him staring at her with a look of awe. "That was amazing," he breathed.
She felt embarrassed. That was her first time letting him watch her cum, and she knew that she must look a sight right now, with her body flushed and her hair as wild as ever. Pushing him down on the bed, she slumped on top of him, resting her head on his chest. Her breasts rocked against him gently as she regained her breath, and she felt a wonderful comfort as he wrapped his arms around her bare back.
"You're so amazing."
"So are you," she replied softly, shutting her eyes as her consciousness began to falter. Perhaps they had time for a bit of a nap...
xxx
They did not, in fact, have time for a nap. She jerked awake to the sound of the door shutting. Still straddling Harry, she sat up, hearing the voices of Dean and Seamus and...
"Harry," Ron called, "why's your curtain drawn?"
Knowing exactly what was about to happen, Hermione quickly covered as much of her breasts as she could with her arms and hands. It was not a moment too soon, as the curtain was wrenched aside, and Ron stood there, blinking at her, with Dean and Seamus behind him. Neville stood by the door, clearly embarrassed at not having kept them away from the dorm when he knew Hermione was up here.
"Bloody hell, you're a lucky bloke, Harry," said Seamus, who had the best view of Hermione's bare back.
Harry, who hadn't awoken as quickly as Hermione had, sat up and wrapped his arms around her, helping her conceal herself. "Shut the curtain, Ron!"
Ron, whose face had gone bright red, promptly did so.
"Were you two shagging?" Seamus asked through the curtain.
"You could plainly see that our trousers are still on, Seamus," Hermione replied sharply, doing her best to push down her embarrassment.
"That's, er, not the part that I was looking at."
"We're sorry to interrupt," said Dean, although there was a notable tone of envy in his voice.
Hermione didn't bother to point out that the only thing they had interrupted was a pleasant nap. Climbing off of Harry, she grabbed her bra and shirt and put them back on. Harry put on his own shirt, and once they were both fully presentable, he drew the curtain aside again.
None of the other four boys had moved, and all eight eyes promptly landed on her. She decided that she had no choice but to hold her head high and be proud of the development of her relationship with Harry.
Seamus glanced at Dean. "Are all of the girls so much hotter under their robes now?"
"I reckon so," said Dean, "although I had no idea that..." His gaze unabashedly dropped to Hermione's chest.
"Hey!" Harry said lowly, taking a step closer to Hermione. Hermione crossed her arms over her chest.
"No kidding," said Seamus. "I thought that Lavender would grow up to be the best-looking one, but Hermione..."
"You're a lucky bloke, Harry." Dean repeated Seamus's earlier words. "And it was smart of you to win her over before anyone else noticed. Well, almost anyone else..." He glanced at Ron, who was still silent and red-faced.
Hermione sighed, unwilling to listen to any more objectification. She also didn't want to be here when Ron finally figured out what to yell. "Well, that's quite enough flattery for me." She turned to Harry. "I'll see you at dinner, Harry."
She kissed him, initially meaning for it to be a light kiss. On a whim, however, she decided to deepen it. If these boys had suddenly decided that she was attractive, it might be good for them to be reminded from time to time that she already had her chosen wizard.
Breaking the kiss when Dean wolf-whistled, she went to the door, giving Neville a smile to let him know that she didn't blame him for not keeping the others out. He blushed.
Unfortunately, the common room was now packed with Gryffindors who had returned from Hogsmeade, and there were plenty of witnesses to her emerging from the boys' stairs. Ignoring the furtive glances and whispers, she quickly crossed to the other stairwell and climbed up to her own dormitory.
A certain two roommates immediately appeared at her heels. "And just what were you doing in the boys' dormitory, Miss Granger?" Parvati asked in a cringeworthy imitation of Professor McGonagall.
"Ask the boys," Hermione muttered.
xxx
There was no attack by Sirius Black this time to distract everyone from the gossip about Hermione's latest venture to Harry's bed. Stares and whispers swirled around her in every corridor. Seamus and/or Dean must have let slip to the rumor mill that she had "really nice tits" and "flawless skin," as she quickly became tired of hearing boys mention these details to their friends while openly leering at her. While it was certainly more flattering than hearing herself referred to as a "swot" and "mudblood," it became every bit as much of a bother.
But the worst were the boys who apparently convinced themselves that she would enjoy shagging them more than she enjoyed Harry, and then tried to convince her of that. While none of the Gryffindors approached her with such ideas, thankfully, these boys were everywhere outside of the tower, including in her old sanctuary in the library. She mourned the loss of her haven, and instead took to spending hours in her dormitory, keeping her curtain around her bed as she did her schoolwork and research for Buckbeak.
Within the tower, her biggest problem remained one Ron Weasley, who was now avoiding Harry as ardently as he was avoiding Hermione. Harry hated it, as Ron was the first person he met aboard the Hogwarts Express and thus his first-ever friend who was his own age. He was a complete stranger to the idea of friends drifting apart over time, and Hermione did everything she could to comfort him and try to persuade him that he would eventually find better friends who wouldn't turn their backs on him over a girl.
She had thought that Neville might be just such a friend, but the fact that he was now blushing and averting his gaze each time she looked at him didn't bode well.
A week after her encounter with the boys in their dormitory, she was summoned to the Hospital Wing after dinner. She quickly reassured a concerned Harry that she wasn't secretly injured or sick, and that she was just as confused about the summons as he was.
When she entered the Hospital Wing, she found Madam Pomfrey awaiting her with a stern expression. She was holding a clear flask with a milky potion inside, and Hermione eyed the potion warily as she stopped several feet short of the matron's chair. "Good evening, Madam Pomfrey."
"Good evening, Miss Granger. Do you know why you are here?"
"I honestly have no idea." Although the sight of that potion was giving her some idea. She had, after all, read about the...
"My duties here consist of more than just caring for the injured and unwell, Miss Granger. I am also called upon to provide necessary information to young Muggle-born witches. Normally, I wait until later in a student's tenure at this school to provide this particular lesson, but after being informed of your recent activities with Mr. Potter, Professor McGonagall asked me to have this conversation with you significantly ahead of schedule."
Hermione felt heat rapidly flood her face as she stared at the potion.
"This is the contraceptive potion. It lasts through three menstrual cycles, meaning that four doses spaced evenly throughout the year will keep you protected, unless your cycle becomes irregular for any reason. In addition to preventing conception during sexual intercourse, it also soothes menstrual pain, for which reason many witches begin taking it even before they become sexually active."
This last fact calmed Hermione a little, as it provided a reason for her to take the potion other than anticipation of sex with Harry. Still, the knowledge of why she was being given the potion so much sooner than other Muggle-born witches kept her embarrassment smoldering.
"I am providing you with this dose, and with a second dose in three months' time. In addition, I have already received a copy of the recipe from Professor Snape, who believes that you will be quite capable of brewing the potion on your own, without any need for a separate lesson."
Hermione's mortification returned with a vengeance at the knowledge that her least favorite professor was involved with this, and thus also aware of her activities. She numbly took the small roll of parchment that Madam Pomfrey produced, storing it in her robes without looking.
"Now, Miss Granger, if you will." She held out the flask, and Hermione accepted it. Taking a deep breath, she drank from the flask, grimacing at the viscous texture of the bitter liquid.
Within seconds, she felt a chill settle beneath her belly. The sensation faded after a few more seconds.
"Please return after your third menstruation following today for your second dose. You may go."
"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey." Hermione turned quickly to leave, anxious to put this encounter behind her.
But Madam Pomfrey drew her attention back. "One more thing, Miss Granger." She turned to see a bit of mischief on the matron's face. "The next time that Mr. Potter has an overnight stay in here—and I am certain that there will be a next time—see that the two of you behave yourselves more properly than you did on the last occasion. This is the Hospital Wing, after all."
Once again, Hermione felt herself go bright red. "We will," she muttered, and then hurried from the wing.
Fighting down the embarrassment as quickly as she could, she focused on the practical aspect of that meeting. While she didn't expect to lose her virginity within the next three months, the fact that she was now protected for the event made the possibility feel so much more real. Excitement and apprehension arose in tandem within her.
xxx
Harry was getting quite tired of hearing about Hermione's "really nice tits." Hermione did have really nice tits, of course, as he had known for a while now, but he much preferred when he was the only one who knew about them.
Seamus, however, couldn't seem to go a day without mentioning them, or two days without asking Harry whether Hermione would be paying him a visit overnight.
"No," Harry would reply tersely, wondering if there was a spell that could prevent someone from being asked certain questions.
However, as much as the attention from Seamus and Dean was bothering him, the lack of attention from Ron was bothering him much more.
Back in the fall, he'd already started to get a niggling feeling that Ron was developing a bit of a crush on Hermione, even if he went about it in an absolutely awful manner by treating her terribly. The one-sided war that he had waged against her all year long over Crookshanks had more and more evidently been a sign that he had no idea how to handle his feelings, and was taking that confusion out on the person he deemed responsible for his crisis. Now that she and Harry were together, his tendency to get jealous of Harry had added fuel to the fire.
And now Harry had a dilemma, because he didn't want to lose his first friend, but he was certainly not willing to sacrifice his relationship with Hermione. She insisted that he could make other friends, but making friends was not something that Harry had ever managed to do, unless they just decided to sit with him in a compartment on a train or just happened to be attacked by a giant troll.
Actually, Harry had two dilemmas, because the Slytherins seemed to be more interested in hurting him than ever before. They had already been taunting him out of jealousy of his relationship with Hermione, but the fact that he would soon be the opposing seeker in the all-important final match of the quidditch season made everything worse. And after Hermione slapped Malfoy for calling her a mudblood slut, the hostility amplified that much more.
The other Gryffindors became his bodyguards in the corridors, and helped to stop several attempts at physical or magical attacks that would land him in the Hospital Wing or worse. Hermione had already been researching the impediment jinx and the silencing charm to stop her more aggressive suitors, even though they were O.W.L.-level spells, and she now made sure that Harry could perform the spells as well as she could. They would find an empty classroom after dinner in which to practice the spells, and eventually would tire of practicing and would fall into lengthy snogging sessions instead.
And that was Harry's third dilemma, the fact that he couldn't get enough of her. The more time he spent with her, the more desperate he was to spend even more time with her. He remembered an old television program that Aunt Petunia had watched about the dangers of smoking. The more one smoked, the more one wanted to smoke. Snogging Hermione was like that, only it wouldn't lead to cancer in the end.
But again, Harry wouldn't sacrifice his relationship with her for anything.
Somehow, he managed to survive to the night before the quidditch match without landing in the Hospital Wing, which felt like more than a small miracle. He slept badly that night, however, dreaming that the Slytherins arrived at the match riding dragons. He was in the midst of trying to dodge the plumes of deadly fire from Malfoy's dragon when he awoke to the feeling of lips pressing hard on his own.
He opened his eyes, but it took a long moment for them to adjust so he could see the wild-haired silhouette looming over him. "You came," he whispered, in awe of the fact that she had dared to venture into his dormitory again.
"I had to make sure you were okay."
"You do know that I haven't actually played the match yet, right?"
She lightly slapped his chest, but then looked away from him. "They're going to try to hurt you tomorrow."
"Probably," he acknowledged. "But they've been trying for weeks now, and haven't managed it yet."
"But it'll be different up there." She shuddered, and grabbed his hand, holding onto it with both of hers. "I hate that you'll be up there, with those bludgers, and..."
"I'll be fine, Hermione." He sat up, kissing her dressing gown-clad shoulder. The nights had gotten warmer again, and he wondered what she was wearing underneath the gown. His cock promptly stirred as he considered the possibilities.
But she stood, stepping away from the bed. He watched in horror as she ducked beneath his curtain and out of sight, and briefly wondered if this was another nightmare. Then he grabbed his glasses and scrambled out of bed to go after her.
Rather than head for the door, however, she went to the window, beneath which sat the silver jug that was always full of water. The moonlight fell across her, giving her pale skin an ethereal glow, highlighting the fear on her face.
He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her. "I'll be fine," he repeated.
She leant into his arms, her head tilting to rest against his. But then she stilled, and then leant forwards, peering at something down below. He followed her gaze down to an animal prowling the grounds far below.
"It's Crookshanks," she breathed, quickly identifying her own familiar. "He's awfully close to the Forbidden Forest."
But it wasn't this statement that made Harry go very tense in that moment. Rather, it was the giant, black creature that emerged from the shadow of the trees and stalked alongside Hermione's pet.
"It's the Grim," he murmured.
Hermione stared at the creature, but then scoffed. "Nonsense, it's just a dog." She had dropped Divination just before Easter, following what was likely the closest she would ever come to rowing with a professor, after Trelawney again identified the Grim as an omen of death in Harry's near future.
"I've seen that dog before," he told her. "The first time was right before I very nearly got run over by the Knight Bus. And then I saw it again just before the dementors attacked at the first quidditch match."
Hermione's eyes narrowed. "It's just a dog," she repeated. "Crooks even seems to be friends with it. It's not an omen of anything." She turned in his arms, and her lips were suddenly just inches from his. "You're going to be fine, Harry."
Apparently, her disdain for Divination was so great that it provoked her to defy the possible omens. It caused a dramatic reversal, her confidence rising as his wavered.
"You're going to be fine," she repeated. "You're going to win that match, and then I'm going to snog you silly."
The anticipation of snogging her pushed aside his concerns for the moment. "Does that mean you won't snog me silly before then?"
Her lips quirked, and then she was kissing him. He pulled her tight against him, and she happily pressed her body into his, moaning softly into his mouth.
Then she pulled away and took his hand, leading him back to his bed.
They fell onto it together, their lips reconnecting as soon as they could. He pulled her close again, and she pressed her thigh against his hardening cock—knowingly, from the way she smiled against his lips as she did it.
Anxious to finally see what was under her dressing gown, he unfastened it, and she allowed him to push it off of her, revealing a red camisole and matching shorts.
As he looked her over, she gave a sly grin. Then she slightly pushed down her shorts, just enough for him to see the very top of a pair of gold knickers underneath.
It was a few seconds before he was able to say anything. "Is this in honor of Gryffindor?" he finally managed, referring to the combination of the red and gold.
"It's in honor of you."
He stared at her, but she promptly renewed the kissing. Then she took his hand and pressed it to the strip of skin between her camisole and shorts.
Not wasting any time, he pushed his fingers beneath the fabric, venturing upwards along her side. She sat up, however, and simply pulled the camisole off, giving him a full view of his twin targets.
Merlin, he loved her breasts.
Covering one with his hand, he lowered his mouth to the other. She moaned and pulled his head against her as he began to kiss and suck on her nipple.
"Harry," she sighed softly. She reached down for the hem of his pajama shirt, and he separated from her breasts for just long enough to help her pull it off of him.
Her fingernails clawed gently at his back as he returned to her tits. Her thigh nudged his cock more insistently, and then she was pulling him off of her, and pulling his head back up in range of her lips. As they snogged, her hand circled around to his front and began sliding downwards.
He stilled as her fingers burrowed beneath his trousers, and then beneath his boxers. She briefly explored the small nest of hair that had grown a bit since she last saw it, and then continued on and wrapped her small hand around his cock. He gasped into her mouth.
"Is this okay?" she asked as she began stroking him.
"Yes," he moaned, immediately enraptured by the feeling. This was so different from when he touched himself. So much better.
She paused, and he groaned when she let go of him. But then both of her hands were at his waistband and she was pushing his clothing down, exposing him. Her hand returned, moving a little more boldly now that she could see what she was doing.
"Tell me how to do it," she requested.
"You're doing great," was all he could manage in response as his head fell back on his pillow. She had seen him stroke himself twice and clearly already had a good idea of what to do, but the feeling of her hand on him was so much better than anything else he'd felt that he wasn't even sure how to make it better.
He felt his eruption approaching far too soon, and did his best to hold it off, wanting to feel this forever. But he couldn't prevent it for long. "Hermione... I'm about to..."
She raised her hand up to his tip, and then her lips were below his ear. "Cum for me, Harry."
The words and her breath on his neck triggered the explosion immediately, and boy was it an explosion. She caught some of it on her hand, but most of it blasted right past and fell on her arm and his belly.
She studied the coating of liquid that oozed across her palm. Then she grabbed his wand and cleaned it off of both of them.
"You're amazing," Harry murmured.
"So are you." She lay her arm across his chest and her head on his shoulder. "Get some sleep, my Harry."
He complied.
xxx
He did win the match, and she did snog him silly, right in front of the whole school. And then she repeated the performance a few more times during the ensuing raucous celebration in the Gryffindor Common Room.
After that, she seemed to no longer care about the stares or whispers when people saw her and Harry together. She held his hand in the corridors and the Great Hall and kissed his cheek before running off to her extra classes.
Something certainly seemed to have changed in her. She had slapped Malfoy, snapped at Trelawney, and now developed an apparent immunity to the taunts and giggling and ogling all around her.
And Harry had never felt luckier to be hers.
That said, she was still Hermione Granger, so she still became increasingly stressed out as exams approached.
"You're taking too many classes," he pointed out for the umpteenth time. They were on the couch in the common room, her head resting on his lap as she reviewed her Arithmancy notes.
"I'm managing fine," she replied stubbornly.
"I didn't say you aren't." He ran his fingers along the side of her neck, something she really liked. "Am I still not allowed to ask how you're going to take more than one exam at a time?"
"No." She briefly shut her eyes as she enjoyed his caresses, but quickly opened them again and fixed her gaze back on her notes.
"Fine." His hand paused at the base of her neck as his pinky encountered a small chain beneath her collar. "Are you wearing a necklace?" She rarely wore any jewelry, at least that he could see.
Her eyes briefly widened. "Yes."
He puzzled over her reaction. "When did you get it?"
"Back in September. I just haven't worn it when I've come to see you."
That increased his confusion. "Why not?"
She shrugged. When his puzzled look remained, however, she sighed. "It's... It's from my parents, alright? I just... feel weird wearing it when we're... doing things."
"Do they not like me?" He had briefly met her parents in Diagon Alley, but they hadn't talked much at all.
"Of course they do. I'm just not ready to think about my parents and my boyfriend at the same time."
The smile immediately split his face. "Boyfriend?"
She rolled her eyes. "Yes, Harry, you're my boyfriend. And I'm your girlfriend."
His grin widened, and he leant down and kissed her.
"Really, you two?" Ron had just entered the common room, and was looking at them with exaggerated exasperation.
Things with Ron had improved significantly after Harry once again became the hero of Gryffindor for winning the Quidditch Cup. It seemed like, so long as Harry didn't wax poetic about snogging Hermione, they were best friends again, as though nothing had happened to drive them apart for months.
And although Ron and Hermione still saw eye-to-eye on very little, it seemed like they were tentatively starting to be friends again, although Harry wondered if that wouldn't all crumble to pieces the next time Ron set eyes on Crookshanks.
Buckbeak's looming appeal was very much a unifying factor in that regard, as Ron was as anxious to help Hagrid out as Harry and Hermione were. Unfortunately, it was all for naught, as Lucius Malfoy had already paid off everyone necessary to ensure Buckbeak's execution.
The trio went down to Hagrid's under the invisibility cloak, and there discovered Scabbers hiding in the milk jug. This led to the mad chase from Hagrid's hut to the Whomping Willow, and the discovery of Sirius Black's hideout.
Hours later, but actually at the exact same time, Harry and Hermione sat down against a large tree trunk on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. They had already saved Buckbeak, who was now tied to the next tree over, but Harry was still struggling to sort through everything that had just happened, or rather was about to just happen.
Hermione's secret necklace had turned out to be the chain of a time-turner, which she had been prohibited from telling him about until Dumbledore revealed his plan tonight. The couple had then gone back in time three hours, and made their least fun visit to a broom cupboard yet to avoid being caught by themselves and so Hermione could explain everything.
But it was a broom cupboard, after all, so they at least managed to sneak a few kisses after her explanation.
Now, after she had successfully held him back from going to retrieve his invisibility cloak before Snape could grab it, she rested her head on his shoulder, asking about who might have conjured the patronus that saved them a little over an hour from now.
Harry thought back, remembering the sight of the great, silver animal—he wasn't sure if it was a bear or some kind of big dog or cat—charging over the lake to scare off the horde of dementors, and then return and briefly illuminate the caster on the other side of the water. "I think it was my dad."
"Harry..." She wrapped her hands around his arm, pressing her lips to his jumper-clad shoulder. "It can't have been."
"I know." He sighed and turned his head to kiss her curls.
She lifted her face, meeting his lips with her own in a lengthy snog, and then rested her forehead against his.
"I'm so glad you're here," he whispered. "I could never do this without you."
"Well, of course. I have the time-turner."
"That isn't what I mean." He nudged her nose with his. "You make me smarter, Hermione, and braver. Without you, I..."
She cut him off with a kiss. "You're amazing, Harry, with or without me. Although, you're quite right that we're much better when we're together." She kissed him again, deepening it as her hands caressed his cheeks.
Then she moved so that she was sitting in front of him, resting her back against his chest and turning her head to resume the kissing. Taking his hands with each of hers, she moved them to her front, over her jumper. "Touch me."
His hands found her breasts, kneading them through the thick layers in between. She moaned into his mouth.
Before long, however, he reached down and lowered his hands beneath her clothes, returning them to her breasts over her bra. He pulled the cups down so that he could reach her nipples, and she hummed appreciatively.
"Harry," she sighed, leaning further back against him and resting her head on his shoulder again. He smiled at the pleasure on her face as he touched her.
Her hand drifted behind herself, finding his cock pressing against his trousers. She rubbed him through the denim.
"My Harry."
"Yes."
She kissed him. Then she removed her hand and brought it to the front of her own jeans, alongside her other one. Harry watched with building excitement as she unbuttoned and unzipped the trousers.
"Put your hand in."
He stared at her. "Are you sure?"
"Yes."
He tentatively dropped one hand from her breast and dipped it into her jeans, feeling the dampness of her knickers.
"Underneath."
He delved his fingers beneath the wet material, and was stunned by the heat and liquid that he found between her legs.
She stuck her own hand inside, placing her fingers over his and guiding his movements. Her flesh was impossibly soft, and the squelching noise of her fluids seemed to echo through the silent forest around them.
"Here," she said when he found the small nub at the front of her slit. He circled it with his finger, and she gasped. "Harry!"
"Good?"
"Keep doing that!"
He did so, again and again, and her body trembled against his.
After a while, however, she took command of his fingers again, guiding them further down, and he felt the hottest, wettest part of her as she gently nudged his fingers against a hole. Needing no further encouragement, he stuck a finger inside, and she moaned as her flesh clamped down on him.
"Yes," she sighed, and he began rubbing his finger up and down along the soft flesh. Her heat was scalding in there, but in the best of ways, and he delved as deep as he could, feeling her inner walls part around him.
He began using long, deep strokes that repeatedly reached as far inside as he could. She sighed and moaned in time with his movements, her hand pressing on the back of his to keep his palm in contact with her nub while he focused on the stroking. Every now and then, her inner walls would clamp tightly on his finger, and he wondered just how incredible it would feel when her walls were clamping like that around a longer, thicker, and much more sensitive part of his body.
"Put a second finger in," she instructed. He did so, parting her flesh more to make room, and she gasped. Her walls clamped down and she bucked her hips, shoving his fingers in deeper.
He resumed the strokes, and she gasped more loudly when he tried thrusting his fingers in turn rather than in tandem. He spread the fingers apart, stretching her out a bit more.
"This feels good?" he asked her.
"Yes," she moaned.
He kissed her. "It will feel better when it's my cock inside you, won't it?"
She gasped and bucked violently against his hand. Her hand shifted to delve a finger beneath his palm and press against her nub, but he knocked it out of the way with his thumb and began swirling his shorter, thicker digit around the sensitive spot.
"Yes!" she cried, bucking incessantly now. "My Harry!"
"All yours," he assured her. He synced the thrusting of his fingers and the swirling of his thumb with the bucking of her hips, reaching his fingers as deep inside as he could each time she pressed down.
"I can't wait to have my cock inside you," he added in a whisper. He would wait as long as she wanted him to, of course.
She moaned and bucked and pressed his hand deeper, making sure his thumb stayed in motion. He sped up a bit faster than her pace, and then a bit faster still, and she sped her hips up to match him.
"Harry!" she cried. Her walls clamped down violently on his fingers as her whole body trembled, her face flushing beautifully. He studied the feel of her orgasm, the way she spasmed around him and drenched his hand. He was as amazed by her as ever, and desperate to make her feel that pleasure as many times as he could.
And then she collapsed against him, her chest heaving. Her hand tugged on his to withdraw his fingers and pull him away from her sensitive flesh, and he removed his hand from her pants and studied the liquid that coated it.
After several seconds, she regained her senses a bit. When she realized what he was looking at, she blushed and drew her wand, cleaning off his hand. Then she turned in his arms and pressed her lips firmly against his. "That was amazing."
"You're amazing."
She smiled against his lips and began snogging him hard.
Suddenly, there was a noise from Buckbeak, whom they had both forgotten was still tied up nearby. The hippogriff was looking towards the Whomping Willow, and Harry and Hermione both got to their feet when they saw themselves emerge from it.
xxx
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" he roared, happiness filling him as he thought of all the blissful time he had spent with Hermione over the past several months. The silver light burst from his wand, and instead of forming a shapeless cloud, it condensed into the blinding, dazzling form of an animal that charged across the lake, just as he had seen it do from the other view.
It wasn't until after the creature had driven off the dementors and returned that he got a good enough look to identify it. It wasn't a bear or a big dog, but rather a lioness, it's shaggy fur shining as brightly as the full moon above.
As it faded, he turned to the lioness who was darting out of the forest behind him, pulling Buckbeak with her. "What did you do?"
"I just saved all our lives." Before explaining further, he intercepted her and gave her the long snog that his joy and excitement was demanding. "Actually, we saved our lives, because you're my lioness."
"What?" But the post-snog grin on her face made him kiss her again before answering the question.
Later, after they saved Sirius, got back to the Hospital Wing, and witnessed Snape's furious raving, she crawled into bed with him, but they were both too tired to do anything more than hold each other as they slept.
He awoke to find her in the same position in his arms, and whispering with Ron, who was sitting in the chair beside their bed.
"Morning, lover boy," he said cheekily.
Harry quickly looked back and forth between his best friend and the girl in his arms, but there wasn't any sign that Ron was jealous or upset.
"I was just telling Hermione, it's the Quidditch World Cup this summer. How about it, Harry?"
Harry grinned as he sleepily processed the question. That sounded delightful. And the Dursleys would surely be happy to see him go, after what he did to Aunt Marge...
And Hermione would be there, of course.
It seemed like his life was getting much better.