Understanding dawned on Lavender's face. "Oh. Oh. You mean like..." She made a vague gesture that somehow perfectly conveyed the concept.
"Yes. Like that."
"Have you ever...?"
"No. You?"
"Won-Won wanted to, but I always thought it seemed unhygienic."
"It's actually quite sanitary if proper cleaning charms are—" Hermione stopped herself. "Sorry. Not the time for a lecture."
"Probably not." Lavender was quiet for a moment. "I want to try it. With you."
"Really?"
"Really." She squeezed Hermione gently, making her gasp. "I trust you. And honestly, I'm curious what it feels like. To have someone's mouth on... you know."
Hermione did know. She'd been curious about the same thing, in the deepest, most secret parts of her mind.
"Okay," she said. "How do we...?"
"I think you lie down, and I sort of... climb on top? Facing the other way?"
"That sounds right."
"Very romantic."
"We're not going for romantic. We're going for functional."
"Functional." Lavender snorted. "I'm about to sixty-nine Hermione Granger for functional purposes. My teenage self would be so confused."
"Your teenage self didn't have a penis."
"Fair point."
Hermione lay back against the pillows, her heart racing. This was happening. This was actually happening.
Lavender positioned herself carefully, swinging one leg over Hermione's torso until she was straddling her face—or rather, until her cock was directly above Hermione's face, and her own face was directly above Hermione's cock.
"This is very intimate," Lavender observed, her breath warm against Hermione's sensitive skin.
"Astute observation."
"Your sarcasm is noted and ignored." Lavender paused. "Ready?"
"Ready."
Neither of them moved.
"Okay, on three again?" Lavender suggested.
"On three."
"One... two..."
Lavender didn't wait for three. She dipped her head and took Hermione into her mouth.
"Oh—!"
Hermione's hips bucked involuntarily, and Lavender made a muffled sound of surprise but didn't pull away. Her mouth was hot, wet, incredible—nothing like Hermione's own hand, nothing like anything she'd ever felt.
"Lavender—oh God—"
A pointed wiggle from above reminded her that this was supposed to be mutual.
Right. Yes. She had a job to do.
Hermione craned her neck up and tentatively licked the tip of Lavender's cock.
The reaction was immediate—Lavender moaned around Hermione's shaft, the vibration sending sparks up her spine. Encouraged, Hermione took more into her mouth, trying to remember everything she'd ever read about technique.
It was awkward at first. The angle was strange, and she kept bumping her nose against Lavender's thigh. Above her, Lavender seemed to be having similar difficulties—her rhythm was erratic, her teeth occasionally scraping in ways that made Hermione wince.
"Sorry," Lavender mumbled, pulling off briefly. "Sorry, I'm not—this is harder than it looks—"
"Keep going. We'll figure it out."
They tried again.
Slowly, incrementally, they found a rhythm.
Hermione discovered that if she tilted her head just so, she could take Lavender deeper without gagging. She learned to use her tongue, swirling it around the head on each upstroke, and was rewarded with a full-body shudder from above.
Lavender, for her part, seemed to be learning too. Her movements became smoother, more confident. She figured out how to use her hand in tandem with her mouth, stroking what she couldn't fit, and Hermione saw stars.
It was messy. It was graceless. It was two inexperienced women fumbling through something neither had ever done before.
It was also, Hermione realised distantly, the most intense sexual experience of her life.
The pleasure built in waves, each crest higher than the last. She could feel Lavender's thighs trembling on either side of her head, could hear the increasingly desperate sounds she was making. They were both close. So close.
Hermione doubled her efforts, taking Lavender as deep as she could, and felt the smaller cock pulse against her tongue.
Lavender came first, spilling into Hermione's mouth with a muffled cry. The taste was strange—salty, unfamiliar—but Hermione swallowed instinctively, working her way through it.
Then Lavender's hand tightened around her base, and her mouth sealed around the head, and Hermione's world went white.
She came so hard she forgot to be quiet, a strangled moan escaping her as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her. Lavender took it all, swallowing around her, not pulling away until the very last shudder had faded.
Silence.
Then Lavender carefully climbed off her, collapsing on the bed beside her, both of them staring at the canopy above.
"So," Lavender said eventually. "That happened."
"That happened," Hermione agreed.
"I have your... you know... in my stomach."
"Likewise."
"This is definitely not covered in any of my self-help books."
Hermione laughed, surprising herself. "No. I imagine not."
They lay there for a while, catching their breath. At some point, Lavender's hand found Hermione's, their fingers intertwining.
"Better?" Lavender asked.
Hermione took stock of herself. The constant, grinding tension that had been her companion for days was finally, blissfully quiet. Her mind felt clear. Her body felt hers again, at least temporarily.
"Better," she confirmed. "Much better."
"Good." Lavender squeezed her hand. "Because I think I'm going to need to do that again. Maybe frequently."
"I think that can be arranged."
They fell asleep like that, tangled together in Lavender's bed, two witches who had never been close before discovering an unexpected intimacy born of impossible circumstances.
Outside the silencing charm, the dormitory slept on, oblivious.