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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Harry's Magic Wand & Hermione's own Chamber of Secrets
by Demetrius (address withheld)
***
Harry Potter is good at spotting the devious but
occasionally misses what is right under his nose. (mf-
teens, 1st, mast, oral, rom, movie-parody)
***
"Harry, what's up with you?" Ron was sounding more than
a little exasperated. Harry looked up, startled by
Ron's sudden interruption of his musing.
"Oh, sorry, Ron," he said. "Did you say something?"
"Only three times," Ron grouched.
"I guess I was miles away," Harry murmured.
"I'll say," Ron said. "What were you thinking about?"
"Oh, nothing in particular. Mainly about spells and
charms."
"Crikey, I'd have thought you'd have had enough of
those for one day. Anyway, I'm going down to watch the
Hufflepuff Quidditch practice. They've got a new chaser
and she's pretty cute. Do you want to come?" Harry
grinned, quite sure that Ron was secretly hoping he'd
say no.
"No, I don't think so, Ron. I'm going to stay here and
do a little cramming. I just know that Snape will set a
killer exam for the end of term and I'm not going to
give him any reason to fail me."
"Good for you, Harry!" said Ron. "Okay, I'll see you
later."
Ron hurried out of the common room. Harry slumped back
in his chair and returned to his musing. The truth was
that he needed some time to himself to think. Life at
Hogwart's had been unbelievably hectic and full of new
experiences, many of them terrifying, and the fact that
he had survived to this point had been a matter of
considerable luck and skill, with absolutely no
guarantee that his problems were now over. The fact
that he had enjoyed recognition and praise from
Dumbledore and senior members of staff, together with
his reputation of being the only soul known to have
withstood an attack from the evil Voldemort, had served
mainly to isolate him from everyone except Hermione,
Ron and the rest of the Weasley's... and, of course,
his godfather, Sirius.
He'd not really ever had an opportunity to live as
other fifteen year-olds did. In most respects, he
didn't really mind that too much but he was now facing
a situation for which nobody had prepared him and which
he felt unable to discuss with anyone around him...
even Ron who was, it now seemed, being affected by the
same influences. He would have talked to Sirius,
perhaps, but only if had he been around because Harry's
problem was one that needed a face-to-face chat, not an
exchange of owls.
Simply put, Harry's hormones were raging. Until now, he
had been too preoccupied with events to be more than
peripherally aware that something new and momentous was
happening to him but, now that things had settled down
once more after his most recent battle against the
forces of evil, he had a little spare time on his
hands. One of the by-products of this was that he had
become very aware of the female of the species. His
attraction to Cho had faded with the death of Cedric
Diggory, and now, specifically, he had become very
aware of Hermione.
It had come upon him with the suddenness of a
thunderclap. For sure, he'd thought that she had looked
lovely at the Triwizards' Ball but he was fixated on
Cho at the time. This powerful new attraction had hit
him quite unexpectedly one evening in the common room.
One minute, she was just good old Hermione and then Ron
had cracked a joke and she threw back her head to
laugh. A bemused Harry had been instantly captivated by
the twinkle in her hazel eyes, the curve of her little
snub nose, the sparkle of her white, even teeth, the
smooth line of her neck and the gloss of her hair. In
that moment, he felt his heart thump and his stomach
lurch. He saw her as he had never seen her before and
realised, in a flash, that "good old Hermione" had
suddenly become a very beautiful and extremely
appealing young woman.
In some ways, he understood that his sudden attraction
to Hermione was not altogether surprising. From the
moment he had entered Hogwarts for that first momentous
year, she had been a part of his life, studying with
him and being deeply involved, together with Ron of
course, in all his adventures. But he'd always viewed
her as simply a trusted friend on whom he could always
rely and who was a walking encyclopaedia on many arcane
subjects that had served their needs more than once.
The fact that she was also a girl had been purely
incidental.
Now, however, he was keenly aware of all the changes
that the passage of time had wrought with her. When
they first met on the Hogwarts Express, he neither
knew, nor would he have cared that, like English
schoolgirls everywhere, Hermione had shortened her
regulation grey skirt so that it ended at the knee and
not the required three inches below but, back then, her
legs were thin and her knees were knobbly. Now,
however, she had grown several inches taller and the
regular exercise in which all students participated had
shaped her legs to a most eye-catching symmetry, often
drawing Harry's attention as she walked up a staircase
ahead of him. It was not helped by the fact that her
"regulation" skirt now ended some six inches above the
knee, offering him the occasional delicious glimpse of
an inner thigh as she swished her way up to the upper
floors.
Nor, on that first meeting aboard the Hogwarts Express,
would it ever have crossed Harry's mind to notice that
Hermione was so flat that you could iron a shirt on her
chest. Now, though, she had developed the most enticing
curves in that area and her white school blouses
clearly showed the deeper white outline of a bra being
worn underneath them. She was moderately endowed but
size was not the point. Hermione had breasts and Harry
feared that he was becoming obsessed with the desire to
see them... to see her... all of her... naked. He knew
that it was an unworthy thought and he did his best to
suppress it but it simply would not stay suppressed. It
even invaded his dreams with the inevitable sticky
consequences that filled him with guilt the first time
it happened, despite the huge surge of pleasure that it
also gave him.
In desperation, he pored through some of the more
esoteric tomes in the school library but while he could
find a charm for changing a mushroom into an umbrella
or a spell for causing meteorological havoc in Nether
Wallop, nothing seemed to have been set down for
helping young wizards offset the natural carnal
cravings of adolescent boys. Having been a loner for so
long, he couldn't know that what he was experiencing
was easily explained. He was a young, healthy male.
Moreover, Hermione was the one young woman with whom
constant contact had, until now, made him feel totally
comfortable. Nonetheless, he was baffled that he had
not noticed until a couple of months ago how attractive
she had become. Had he had a more normal Muggle
upbringing, he would have known that attraction to the
opposite sex amongst young adolescents had been going
on since the dawn of humankind and that it exercises a
drive that is as powerful as magic itself. Sadly, this
was - as yet - a mystery to him.
On a rational level, and with so much expected of him,
he was anxious to behave in an honourable fashion. Even
so, there had been a moment when he'd considered using
the Cloak of Invisibility to sneak into the girls' dorm
and shower area to fulfil his persistent fantasy. He
finally rejected the idea, in part because he knew it
would be wrong but also because he reasoned that the
logistics of slipping into the girls' dorm might prove
more difficult than appeared at first glance for it
occurred to him that many horny young male students had
attended Hogwarts before him and he would likely not be
the first of them to attempt to sneak into the girls'
quarters. If he knew anything about Dumbledore, there
would almost certainly be some powerful magic at work
to make sure that such a thing didn't happen... even
with a Cloak of Invisibility hiding the would-be young
Casanova from the eyes of others.
So it was that Harry abandoned the idea and resigned
himself to enjoying such occasional fleeting glimpses
of Hermione's burgeoning charms as the fates allowed.
It was in this frustrated state of mind that he went
down to join Ron and Hermione for breakfast the
following morning. Hermione was in animated
conversation with Ron about the unexpected properties
of the Muckleberry plant as a component of love
potions. Ron had been listening with only half an ear,
his mind still savouring the unexpected properties of
Melanie Ribblesdale, the new Hufflepuff Chaser, but the
words "love potion" did cause him to pay slightly
closer attention to what Hermione was saying. They
looked up as Harry joined them and, after a few
moments, the talk turned to the upcoming end-of-term
exams.
Just as they were finishing their orange juice, there
was the sound of whirring wings from the far end of the
dining hall announcing the arrival of that day's post.
Ron noted, with rising alarm, that the family owl was
heading straight for him. His mind raced to review what
errors of omission or commission he might be guilty of
that might cause his mother to send him another Howler.
He had no wish to be embarrassed again in front of the
entire school. As the envelope dropped into his
outstretched hand, he was relieved to see that it was a
regular letter. He opened it and his eyes sped over the
contents. After the first couple of sentences, he
smiled and let out a cheer but, as he read on, his face
dropped and the smile died.
"What is it, Ron," Harry asked.
"It's from Mum. It's about the summer holidays. She's
just heard from my Uncle Bruce and Aunt Sheila that
they, and their four kids, are coming for a visit...
all the way from Australia... for six weeks!"
"Wow... fantastic," said Harry.
"Well, yes... and no," said Ron unhappily.
"What do you mean?" asked Hermione.
"With six extra people in the house, we'll be crammed
to the gills. There won't be room for Harry to stay the
whole summer this year as we'd planned."
Harry tried not to let his deep disappointment show. He
had been looking forward to staying with the Weasleys
and he had absolutely no intention of ever returning to
the hateful atmosphere of his former "family" home with
the Dursley's at number four, Privet Drive if he could
possibly avoid it. This news meant that his only
alternative was to remain at Hogwarts for the first six
weeks of the school holidays while everyone else was
off enjoying themselves. Maybe after their visiting
relatives went back to Australia he could spend the
last week with Ron's family, as long as Mrs. Weasley
was not too tired to have another guest so quickly. He
put on a brave face.
"Not to worry, Ron," he said. "I'll stay on here. It
will give me some time to explore the library and catch
up on some of the reading I've been meaning to do for
ages and it will be much better than going back to the
Dursleys."
"I feel really rotten about this, Harry," Ron moaned.
"You will come and stay as soon as they leave, though,
won't you?"
"I'd like that," Harry smiled.
Hermione said nothing. She knew Harry well enough to
know that this must have come as a hard blow and that
he was certainly feeling a lot more upset than he was
allowing himself to show. The three friends fell silent
while they finished their meal as there was nothing
much anyone could say to relieve the gloom that had
descended with Ron's announcement. As she went back to
her room, Hermione was deep in thought and by the time
she got there, she had made a decision.
The next two days raced past. The first one was spent
revising and the second in taking the first of the end-
of-term exams. As Harry had predicted, the Potions
paper, set by Professor Snape, was monstrously
difficult but, thanks to his cramming, Harry felt that
he might scrape a passing grade. Hermione, of course,
breezed through it. At least the unrelenting round of
revision and test papers kept Harry from fretting about
the holidays.
Finally, the exams were all finished and it was the day
before the end of term. The three friends were sitting
comparing notes of the previous day's Transfiguration
exam when one of the first year students rushed up to
Hermione to tell her that a small trunk had been
delivered for her. At this news, Hermione smiled
broadly.
"I'll be right back," she called out over her shoulder
as she hurried off towards the main entrance.
"What do you reckon that's all about?" said Ron.
"I've no idea," said Harry. "Maybe it's a new trunk for
her to send stuff home for the summer."
When she returned a short while later, Hermione was
grinning.
"What are you so happy about, Hermione?" Ron demanded.
"It's a surprise for Harry."
Harry looked puzzled. "A surprise for me?" he said.
"What have you been up to now?"
"Well," Hermione replied, "I hope that you're not going
to be mad at me, but I was talking with Hagrid the
other day and he was saying that he'd been invited to
visit a cousin of his in some isolated part of Wales.
Apparently this cousin has a small farm, way off the
beaten track, where he raises Gryphons. You know how
nutty Hagrid is about magical animals, and he really
wants to go, but it would mean that there would be
nobody here to look after Fang and all the other
animals. He told me all this on the morning Ron got his
owl so he hadn't heard that Harry's staying here for
the start of the hols."
She turned to smile at Harry.
"I said that you'd probably be happy to take care of
the animals for him."
"Of course I would," Harry said at once.
"Yes," Hermione grinned, "...well, he thought about it
and said that I was probably right but that, if he
went, he would need to be gone for about ten days and
that feeding and mucking out was too big job for one
person... even for Harry Potter. So I asked him 'What
if I were here to help him?' 'But you won't be,' he
said. 'I could be,' I told him. Well, you know Hagrid.
He pulled on his beard and pondered the idea for simply
ages, before admitting that the two of us together
could probably manage things, but it still took me
another ten minutes to convince him to let us do it.
Finally he agreed, so I asked Professor McGonagall if
it would be all right for me to stay here to help you
look after the animals until Hagrid got back... and she
said yes, as long as my parents approved. Of course,
Mum and Dad were fine with the idea.
"That's what the trunk was all about. Mum sent me some
of my summer clothes so I won't have to wear my beastly
uniform all the time."
She stopped talking suddenly and cast an anxious glance
at Harry,
"You are pleased, aren't you, Harry. I mean, it'll be a
lot of hard work but we'll still have lots of time for
other things as well... maybe explore some of the local
area, do research... that sort of thing."
Harry was more than pleased, He was thunderstruck.
"Of course I'm pleased," he grinned, "but weren't you
going away with your parents?"
"I still am... but not right away. Muggle companies are
pretty stingy with their time off. Dad only gets two
weeks holiday in the summer, which means our trip won't
be for another three weeks yet. Hagrid should be back
from Wales before then so I can still be home in time
to go with them."
Ron gave Harry a broad, knowing wink.
"That's brilliant, Harry," he said. "Just the two of
you. Very cosy!"
He was echoing Harry's own racing thoughts exactly. The
idea of having Hermione to himself for a time might
prove to be a curse or a blessing but, either way, it
sure beat being by himself.
But just maybe this was a sign that she was interested
in him too? As if reading his mind, Hermione poured
cold water on that idea.
"My main concern, of course, is to give poor Hagrid a
break, but it did seem that I might be able to kill two
birds with one stone."
"Of course," said Harry at once. "It was a very kind
thought, Hermione"
"Yes," said a somewhat chagrined Ron. "A very kind
thought."
"Well that's all right then," Hermione grinned. "I'll
go and unpack. See you later." She bounced off, leaving
Harry and Ron staring after her.
***
The next day saw all the departing pupils, still
wearing their school uniforms, bidding cheerful and
tearful goodbyes to each other. There was much hugging
between close friends, especially amongst the
graduating students who were busily exchanging
addresses and promises to keep in touch. The smaller
kids were stuffing their pockets with treats to eat on
the train and there was constant noise and bustle in
the Entrance Hall as successive waves of students,
under the watchful eye of the House Captains, hurried
to catch the boats and coaches that would ferry them to
the railway station. Together, Hermione and Harry
watched the frantic activity from the relative calm of
the first floor landing. About mid-morning, Ron, Ginny
and the Weasley twins appeared in the hallway, all
ready to leave together. Hermione and Harry hurried
down to say goodbye to them.
"Sorry about all this, Harry," Ron said.
"Yes," said Ginny. "It won't be the same at home
without you."
"Thanks, Ginny," Harry smiled "but you've got all your
cousins to meet and get to know... and, anyway, I'll
see you all in about six weeks."
"You'd better," Ron replied. "Mum'll be bloody upset if
you don't come."
"Tell her I'll be there, and thank her for the
invitation, especially when she'll have been so busy,"
Harry said. "Now go, or you'll miss the train. Don't
worry about us. We'll be fine... and have a great
summer with your relatives."
"Yes, have fun all of you," Hermione said.
"You too," they chorused. On their way to the doors,
the twins looked back.
"Don't do anything we wouldn't do!" they shouted.
"That gives us a lot of latitude," Harry called back.
With a gust of laughter, the Weasleys departed An hour
later, the last students and most of the staff had left
and an uncommon silence settled on the school.
Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall, who were
remaining at Hogwarts to attend to administrative work,
prepare for the new intake next term and to be
responsible for their two young charges, had agreed
that it made more sense for Hermione and Harry to eat
in the Gryffindor Common Room than in the main dining
hall. Together, Harry and Hermione headed up the
staircase to greet the fat lady in the portrait
guarding the door.
"Password?" she demanded.
"Amicus Aeturnum" Harry replied.
"Thank you, Harry," said the fat lady and the portrait
swung open.
"Do you think we will be..." Hermione asked as they
passed into the common room. "...friends for ever I
mean?"
"I don't see why not," Harry smiled. "I'd never have
survived Hogwarts this far without you and Ron so, yes,
I reckon we'll all be friends for ever."
Hermione turned away quickly and hurried to one of the
over-stuffed and very comfortable armchairs.
"I wonder what's for lunch?" she said. "I'm starving!"
Harry was puzzled by the sudden change of topic but
dismissed it. He was hungry too. He sat opposite her,
once more aware that Hermione's grey skirt was
remarkably short and secretly wondering what it might
reveal but, to his disappointment, she kept her knees
decorously close together.
"Pabulum," she called, and immediately food
materialised on the low table in front of them. There
was a delicious soup of fresh vegetables and savoury
herbs, chicken in a piquant sauce baked into a flaky
pastry shell accompanied by Carrots Marguerite and
Duchesse Potatoes. Dessert was treacle tart and
custard, one of Harry's favourites.
Relaxing happily after the meal, Harry tried hard not
to stare at Hermione. It was a unique situation for him
to be alone with an attractive girl in a virtually
deserted building and he found himself suddenly shy,
something he had never been before with Hermione. He
knew that he wanted to move their relationship in a new
direction but was at a loss as to how to do it. He sat
pondering what to say next.
Hermione solved his dilemma.
"Hagrid wants us to go over to his cottage this
afternoon. He's going to leave us a mass of written
notes on the animals but he wants to walk us through
the feeding and cleaning routines before he leaves."
"Okay," said Harry. "That sounds like a brilliant idea.
I'd much rather see for myself than try to figure out
what Hagrid means from his notes."
"Yes, well if we're going to be traipsing round the
animal pens, and with school now officially over for
the year, I'm going to change out of this wretched
uniform. You should, too."
"I don't have any other clothes that still fit me,"
said Harry.
Hermione thought for a moment. "Hmm, maybe Professor
Dumbledore will have an idea."
"I don't like to trouble him for something so trivial,"
"Nonsense. After what you've been through, he'll be
only too delighted to help."
With that, she marched out to find Dumbledore, followed
by a still-protesting Harry.
Dumbledore, when located, was indeed happy to help and
assured Harry that, by the time he got back to his
room, he would find his wardrobe fully stocked.
"Including Wellington boots?" asked Hermione. "We're
going to be mucking out the animals while Hagrid's
gone."
"Including Wellington boots," Dumbledore smiled.
Twenty minutes later, Hermione and Harry met up in the
Entrance Hall. She was now dressed in a pair of faded
jeans tucked into black "wellies". She also wore a
chequered, long-sleeved shirt under an old, navy-blue,
sleeveless pullover. But the thing that stunned Harry
was the cheeky, black, peaked cheese-cutter hat that
she wore jauntily over her hair which she had twisted
into a coil on the back of her head. She looked at the
same time, dressed for work and an extremely
fashionable young woman. Harry wasn't sure but he
thought that she might even be wearing a touch of
makeup but, if she was, it was extremely subtle and an
absolute first.
"Holy Smokes, Hermione," he gasped. "You look great."
"What, in these old things?" she smiled. "Come on.
Hagrid's waiting."
The went out into the fresh air. The sun was partially
hidden behind a light covering of fluffy white clouds
but it was still warm and they walked silently down the
slope towards Hagrid's cottage. Suddenly Hermione
stopped.
"What is...?" Harry started to say but Hermione held up
her hand.
"Shh... listen," she said.
They stood side by side and listened.
"I don't hear anything," said Harry.
"Exactly!" Hermione nodded. "I've never been at
Hogwarts during the day when there hasn't been the
sound of kids, maybe playing Quidditch or telling
jokes, taking classes... stuff like that. But now...
you can hear only the sounds of nature. It's so
peaceful."
She stood stock still for a moment and then marched off
again.
"Come on," she called. "Hagrid will be wondering where
we've got to."
Harry hurried to catch up with her, more puzzled than
ever. Hermione, who seldom stopped talking when she
didn't have her head in a book, was now praising the
virtues of silence. What other surprises did she have
in store for him over the next couple of weeks?
Hagrid was waiting for them at the door of his cottage,
a big grin on his face. Fang sat beside him, his great
tongue lolling from his mouth, panting slightly in the
heat.
"There you are," Hagrid greeted them. "Thanks for
taking this on, you two. It means a lot to me."
"No problem, Hagrid," Harry said. "It'll give us
something to do and we can take Fang for lots of
walks."
"He'll like that," Hagrid laughed. "He'll wag his tail
off! Come on then. I'll show you the routine."
He led the way round to the back of the cottage with
Hermione, Harry and Fang trailing behind him. The next
couple of hours flew by. Even though they had learned a
lot in Hagrid's "Care of Magical Animals" classes,
there was a lot more that they hadn't yet encountered.
At last, with all the creatures fed and watered, they
went into the cottage where the kettle was boiling
merrily on the hob. Over tea and rather chewy crumpets,
Hagrid passed over a sheaf of notes to Hermione, and
then proceeded to run through the contents of all of
them. They covered every possible contingency and
emergency that his vivid imagination could conjure up.
Finally he ran out of even the most unlikely
eventualities and sat back in his chair.
"Now, Harry," he said earnestly, "if anything
unforeseen happens, send me an owl at once. I'll be at
my cousin's place. I've written down the address
because heaven alone knows how you pronounce it."
He handed Harry a slip of paper. On it was written in
Hagrid's unmistakeable scrawl:
Rubeus Hagrid
Care of Owen Dafydd Jones
Gryphon Farm
Dyrysgol
Wales
Harry studied the paper carefully and put it safely in
his pocket.
"Don't you worry, Hagrid," he assured the gentle giant.
"Nothing is going to happen and there can't be anything
left that you haven't foreseen. So go and have a good
holiday. We'll take good care of things while your
away."
"I'm sure you will, Harry," Hagrid murmured but didn't
sound entirely convinced.
"Have you decided when you are leaving?" Hermione asked
him.
"Early tomorrow morning, if that's all right with you
two," he replied.
"Of course it's alright," Harry said. "We'll come by
every morning and evening and, in a real emergency,
we'll send an owl and talk with Professor Dumbledore."
"Aye, he'll know what to do right enough. Just so long
as you let me know too."
"We will. We will," said Harry insistently.
Hagrid grinned. "Right then. I'll do some packing."
They left him whistling to himself and throwing spare
clothes into a large draw-string bag.
***
The next day dawned bright and sunny, with the promise
that it would get very warm later. Harry and Hermione,
dressed in their work clothes, got to Hagrid's about
nine o'clock but he had already left. There were
several more notes waiting for them in the cottage,
filled with more afterthoughts but containing nothing
that they hadn't covered already... more than once. By
11.15, the two of them had finished the morning's
chores and were wandering back towards the school.
"Fancy exploring some of the local area?" Harry asked
Hermione.
"Okay," said Hermione. "You know, we've never followed
the path that goes around the edge of the Forbidden
Forest. What do you say that we head that way?"
"Great idea," said Harry. "We could either leave right
after lunch of maybe take a picnic with us."
"A picnic," Hermione said immediately. "We'll need to
be back around four o'clock so the earlier we start,
the more we can explore. Just give me time to shower
and change and we can leave."
"Great. I need a shower too. I'll meet you by the front
door around 11.45. Oh, and I'll take care of the
picnic. Maybe bring a small backpack if you have one."
Harry hurried through his shower, pulled on a pair of
corduroy pants and a light short-sleeved shirt, uttered
the words "Pabulum Portabilis', scooped the resultant
food into his backpack and hurried down to the Entrance
Hall. It was nearly ten minutes before Hermione arrived
but when she did, Harry was again stunned by the
transformation. She wore a pair of sturdy walking
boots, ankle socks, blue-jean shorts, cut VERY short,
and a short yellow T-shirt.
He stared at her never-before-seen, long, luscious legs
and at the way her top clung to her slender figure. It
also left a band of bare flesh at her middle and, for
the first time, Harry saw that she had a slender waist
which accentuated her curves even more. School blouses
tended to bag out where they tucked into the skirt,
disguising the waistline.
This time, he was almost certain that she was wearing
makeup that accentuated her eyes and gave a light blush
to her cheeks. Her lips, too, hinted at an application
of soft pink lipstick. He had never seen her look more
attractive but he bit back the automatic reaction to
tell her so. She had dismissed his comment last time
but his face must have told her what he was thinking.
She smiled, but said nothing.
"Ready?" she asked.
"Er... yes." He stammered.
"Good. Let's go."
She stuck her thumbs under the straps of her backpack,
squared her shoulders – which had the effect of pushing
her breasts out – and strode off through the door
followed by a totally captivated Harry.
They walked for about an hour, skirting the forest and
then struck off along a footpath that led down to a
trickling stream. They followed the bank alongside the
water and, after about a quarter of a mile, the river
broadened for a short distance to form a wide pool,
then flowed on again between narrowing banks until it
was back to a stream again. There was a little stand of
shade trees beside the pool and a stretch of grass
which made a perfect place for a picnic.
The two of them stopped, dropped their backpacks to the
ground and sat down to rest for a moment. A couple of
moorhens paddled nervously to the opposite side of the
water but, seeing that the intruders appeared to be
harmless, they soon paddled back out and started diving
for food again.
Hermione stretched out and rested her hands on the
ground behind her as Harry began to unpack the food and
drink.
"Beautiful," she said dreamily.
"Yes," Harry agreed, drinking in her long, bare legs.
"Beautiful indeed."
They didn't talk a lot as they ate. Once they had
finished, Hermione lay back on the grass, tucked her
back-pack under her head, placed hands by her sides,
and closed her eyes. Harry put the plates back in his
pack and then lay on his side facing her, elbow on the
ground and his head resting in his hand. He took in the
light sheen of perspiration on her brow, watched the
slow rise and fall of her breasts and admired the
flatness of her stomach. He also noted that her legs
were already starting to tan. Time seemed to stand
still and he felt that he could have stayed there all
afternoon just looking at her. After about five
minutes, however, her eyes snapped open. She saw him
gazing at her and gave him a slight smile.
"Can't lie here all afternoon," she said, jumping to
her feet. "We must come back here again though. It a
great place to get a little privacy."
She jumped up, looked around her and saw that one of
the trees had a large branch overhanging the bank and
the pond. It was about eighteen inches above her head.
She ran a couple of paces forward, jumped, grabbed on
to the branch and hung on. As she did so, her T-shirt
rode some way up her rib cage, exposing an even wider
band of bare skin than ran from about three inches
below her navel to some four inches above it.
Harry was in torment. He had just got used to the idea
that Hermione had great legs and here she was
innocently displaying more of her nubile body than he
had ever seen before. He was so relieved that he was
wearing tight underwear and cords because he had no
control over the reaction he had to being faced with
this level of temptation. He felt an overwhelming
desire to run forward, grab her by the hips and blow
raspberries into her belly-button. He forced the idea
back and, instead, made as though he was going to
tickle her.
"Harry Potter, you beast... don't you dare," she
shrieked, dropping back to the ground.
He grinned, picked up his backpack and slipped it on.
"Another half-an-hour along here and then we should be
heading back," he said.
Hermione nodded and picked up her own pack. She was
looking thoughtfully at Harry again.
The rest of the day passed without incident. The
following morning started with the same routine...
walking Fang, feeding the animals and cleaning out
their pens and stalls. As they were finishing washing
down the concrete floor of the barn, Hermione slipped
on the wet floor and sat heavily on her butt. She let
out a loud "Oof!" and Harry turned to see what had
happened.
"Are you okay?" he asked anxiously as he hurried
towards her.
"Apart from a large damp patch on my seat, only my
dignity is hurt," she said. She stuck out her arm.
"Help me up, will you please, Harry."
Harry reached down and took her hand, pulling her up to
her feet again. As soon as she was standing he let her
hand go again.
Under different circumstances, it would have been an
insignificant incident but not for Harry and certainly
not now. There comes a moment in the life of any young
heterosexual male when he forms a serious crush on a
girl for the first time. In the beginning, it is
usually enough for him to admire her from a distance
but that is quickly supplanted by the pressing need to
be near her and talk with her. If, at that point, the
attraction persists, there is an agonizing decision to
be made. Do you risk any form of physical contact? If
she is feeling the same thing that you are, the result
can be bliss. If, however, she sees you as nothing more
than a friend, the result will likely be disaster. She
will never feel comfortable around you again, knowing
you want something from her that she is not willing or
not able to give.
Harry had always been around Hermione at Hogwarts, so
that wasn't an issue but now he had reached the point
where he craved some simple physical contact. In his
mind's eye, he saw Hermione and himself walking hand in
hand, but so much would then ride on her reaction if he
decided to reach out and take her hand in his that he
had been too nervous to try it. She'd given him no
reason to think that such a move would be welcome if it
implied romantic overtones. Indeed, there was a better
than average chance that she would reject any amorous
advance and, worse, it could sour their friendship for
ever.
Harry knew that he and Hermione were destined to spend
several more years together before they graduated and
he could not bear the thought of alienating one of his
two best friends by acting inappropriately. All these
thought went racing through his mind until he suddenly
realised that Hermione had said something and he'd
missed it. His mind snapped back to the present.
"I'm sorry, Hermione, what did you say?"
"I asked you if you would please toss down a couple
more bales of hay from the loft."
"Oh, sure," Harry said.
He went to the end of the barn and climbed up the
ladder to the loft. Dozens of hay bales were neatly
stacked along one wall, except where some of them had
split open and strewn their contents, covering the
floor with a thick layer of sweet-smelling straw. Harry
grabbed a pitchfork from beside the open door at the
far end of the loft, spiked a couple of the bales and
tossed them down to the floor below where Hermione
pushed them to a spot beside the feed bins. Chores
finished, they headed back to the school.
"What would you like to do later?" Harry asked.
"Why don't you pick this time," Hermione replied.
"Okay, how about taking the path that runs along the
hills beside the lake? We should be able to find a way
down to the water somewhere."
"That's a great idea. I'll fix the picnic this time and
see you in the Hall."
Harry had decided to wear khaki shorts and a white T-
shirt. Hermione's shorts were dark blue and she had on
a dark blue, short-sleeved shirt. They set out under
sunny, cloudless skies. The lake was huge and looked
more like an inland sea from this point of view. The
hilltop path was breezy and there were small whitecaps
on the black water far below them. Small waves broke
and retreated on the shore. Birds were wheeling and
diving overhead, uttering raucous cries but, otherwise,
there was not a living thing in sight.
They had been walking for almost an hour when Hermione
pointed ahead to where the hilltop dipped much lower.
"Look Harry, there's a cove down there and isn't that a
pathway going down to the water?"
Harry sighted along her pointing finger.
"You're right," he laughed. "Gosh, you've got sharp
eyes."
They hurried on and ten minutes later found themselves
at the start of the steeply descending side track that
led off the main path.
"Take it easy going down," Harry warned. "I'll lead the
way and you follow."
Slowly, they made their way down the uneven path,
finally finding themselves at the edge of a broad,
grassy meadow. Following the track across it, they
emerged, through a small copse, onto a stretch of sand
dunes and then onto a wide, sandy strip of beach that
was completely sheltered from the wind.
Hermione dropped her pack, undid her laces and pulled
off her boots, then peeled off her ankle socks. She
walked, barefoot, down to the black water and allowed
one of the waves to roll over her toes. The water was
pleasantly warm. She turned and came back to where
Harry was standing beside her abandoned footwear. To
his amazement, she started to unbutton her shirt.
"Hermione, what are you doing?" he stammered.
"I'm going for a swim," she answered. "Are you coming?"
"I didn't bring a costume," he said, his eyes locked on
Hermione's fingers as, one after another, the shirt
buttons were being undone.
"Well that was dumb of you," Hermione said. "You were
the one who said that we might find a beach somewhere."
She flipped open her shirt. Harry had been holding his
breath in anticipation and was only slightly
disappointed to discover that she was wearing a white
bikini top under it. Her shorts quickly followed her
shirt to the sand, revealing the matching bottom half
of the swimsuit. Without a glance at him, she ran back
down to the water. Moments later she was splashing and
rollicking around in it, laughing gaily as she was
rocked gently up and down in the gentle swell.
Harry couldn't decide if he was ecstatic or downright
miserable. On the one hand, he had seen more of
Hermione's body in the past two days than he could ever
have expected to see anywhere but in his imagination...
and there was no doubt in his mind that the real thing
was far more alluring than in even his wildest dreams.
But it was also torture to have such a desirable body
so close and yet to feel unable to touch it for fear of
spoiling, even destroying, the whole friendship between
them. And Hermione, he was sure, had no idea of what
she was unwittingly doing to him.
Ten minutes later, she was racing up the beach towards
him, her young breasts bouncing up and down as she ran,
her long legs shedding droplets of water.
"That was brilliant," she panted. "You should have come
in."
She bent over her backpack and his eyes were instantly
drawn by her cleavage as she felt around for her comb
and a towel. She spread the towel on the sand, then
stood on it, legs astride, head tilted back, eyes
closed, combing her hair while allowing the sun to dry
her body. Try as he would, Harry could not prevent
himself from gazing in disbelief at the distinct camel
toe revealed by Hermione's bikini bottom. Thank heavens
that she had her eyes closed was all he could think as
he dragged his gaze away from her crotch. He took in
the whole image of her now, standing so innocently
combing her hair, and tried hard to store it in a small
compartment of his brain for all time.
The truth was that Harry barely recognized this
stunning creature who seemed to have been transformed
from a gawky schoolgirl to a heavenly siren before his
very eyes. He felt gauche and immature beside her and
was sure that she would feel no great affection for a
dunce who couldn't even think to bring a pair of
swimming trunks to a beach.
This depressing thought didn't stop his body from
reacting to her though, and the severe strain that it
put on his underwear was causing him actual pain. As
Hermione finished combing and shook her head to fan out
her hair behind her, Harry prayed that she would not
notice the bulge in his shorts. She, however, showed no
sign that anything was amiss. She put the comb back
into her pack and looked at him.
"You're not going to get a tan like that, Harry," she
said. "You could at least take your shirt and shoes
off."
Harry rolled his eyes heavenwards. She was right...
again. He quickly took of his footwear and pulled his
shirt up over his head. He saw Hermione glance at him,
then look away. Clearly she was not impressed by his
lily-white skin.
"Let's eat," she said, sitting on one end of the towel
and patting the other end for him to sit beside her. He
did. She passed him a sandwich, took one herself, drew
up her knees and wrapped an arm around them, gazing out
at the lake.
"It looks so forbidding from Hogwarts," she said, "and
yet – when you get close to it – it seems completely
different."
"Yes," Harry replied, "But then, many things here are
not exactly as they seem when you first see them, are
they?"
She looked at him for a long moment before replying.
"That's very true, Harry," she said. "Very true
indeed."
They sat together enjoying the remainder of the picnic
lunch and chatting about this and that. As they did so,
Harry kept stealing surreptitious glances at Hermione.
Slowly, he adjusted to the amazing sight of her in a
bikini and finally the appalling strain at his crotch
subsided. When they had finished eating, they cleared
up the plates and glasses. Hermione stood up and gave
Harry an appraising look.
"I'm going to have another quick swim and then I'm
going to tan for a while before we go back to Hagrid's.
If you wanted, you could join me."
He was about to remind her that he had no costume but
she interrupted him.
"I know. You don't have swimming trunks but you could
swim in your underwear. I won't look if you're
embarrassed."
Harry wasn't embarrassed, he was panic-stricken. The
very idea of him prancing around, barely restrained by
his Y-fronts, in front of Hermione, had caused him to
start getting hard again. If two layers of clothing,
one of them heavy twill, could barely contain his
rising excitement, what hope did he have that one layer
of thin cotton could. She couldn't fail to see his
condition. She would be disgusted with him and that
would be the end of that.
"Probably not a good idea," he mumbled. "I'll stay here
and guard our things, I think."
"From what?" she laughed. "There's nobody for miles."
"Nevertheless..." he managed.
"Suit yourself," she shrugged. This time she walked
away, affording Harry a view of her beautifully rounded
buttocks swaying sensuously as she moved slowly down to
the water. He was thankful that she was not facing him
as the tent at his groin was now quite unmistakeable.
He prayed that it would shrink again before she got
back. Maybe if he closed his eyes. He did so and,
lulled by the warmth, was soon in a deep sleep.
***
When he awoke, he was immediately aware that something
was not right. He couldn't move his legs. His eyes
snapped open and he found himself gazing up at a
grinning Hermione who was busy tamping down the mounds
of damp sand with which she had covered him while he
dozed. She was straddling him and patting down the
layer on his chest, working her way slowly towards his
feet. She reached his buried stomach, and bent over,
slapping her hand down hard on the sand to compact it.
He was treated to a view down the valley between her
skimpily covered breasts. Lower still and soon she was
over his groin just as the inevitable began happening
again. Fortunately, the loading on his middle was
sufficient to contain the mounting pressure that he
would have been otherwise helpless to hide. She was now
at his knees and thoroughly enjoying his struggle to
free himself.
"Just you wait," he gasped. "I'll..."
"You'll what?" she giggled.
"I'll tickle you till you beg for mercy," he said.
"You'll have to catch me first," she said, now pounding
the sand over his feet. Still laughing, she danced back
a step or two as he fought to break the sand's hold.
Slowly, he felt his fingers wriggling the wet grains
aside and then his wrists moved. Straining hard, he
managed to force one arm free and, raising it in the
air, he pulled one shoulder clear. From that point on,
the sand had no chance and he managed to sit upright,
scrabbling the sand aside from his legs. Hermione
waited just long enough for him to get to his knees and
then she sprinted for the water with Harry hot on her
heels. She raced along the water line with Harry in
pursuit and slowly gaining on her.
As he reached out to grab her, she dodged sideways and
all he gripped was air. She raced on, confident that
she could evade his grasp but she had not, perhaps,
taken into account that Harry was the Seeker for the
Gryffindor Quidditch team and was used to outsmarting
the wily golden snitch. The next time that she dodged,
he anticipated her and flung his arms around her waist,
dragging her, squealing with laughter, face down beside
the shallow lapping water. Straddling her and sitting
on her butt, he stuck his fingers into her armpits and
began tickling.
She yelled, screamed and struggled but it was no use.
He now had her pinned to the sand and could tickle her
at will.
"Do you beg for mercy?" he demanded.
"No," she gasped.
He began to tickle her again and she burst into
hysterical laughter.
"Okay, stop, Harry. Please stop," she pleaded.
"Do you beg for mercy?"
"Yes... yes, I beg for mercy."
Harry stopped tickling her and stood up. She pushed
herself to her knees. Harry was busy brushing the sand
from his body. Hermione jumped up and pushed him...
hard. Taken by surprise, he fell into the water just as
a larger than average wave broke over him. He was
smothered by the small wall of water and staggered to
his feet, choking and gasping for air. Hermione
guffawed at the sight of him dripping water and he
immediately launched himself in her direction but she
ran like a hare all the way back to where their clothes
sat in a pile on the beach. By the time he reached her,
she was standing still and calmly offering him the
towel to dry off.
He snatched it out of her hand.
"You brat," he grinned. "You caught me off guard."
"I know," she laughed, "But at least it washed all the
sand off you."
"True, but now I have to walk back to Hagrid's place in
soggy shorts."
"Never mind," Hermione said. "The sun and the wind will
soon dry them out."
Harry pulled on his shirt and Hermione put her shorts
and shirt back on over her bikini. They carefully wiped
all the sand off their feet before putting their sock
and boots back on, picked up their backpacks and began
the walk back over the dunes, through the meadow and up
the path to the hilltop. The walk back to Hagrid's was
the most relaxed that Harry had ever experienced with
Hermione. They chatted easily about things they had
seldom discussed before. He told her all that he knew
about his parents and she talked about her mother and
father, and her own upbringing amongst Muggles.
***
Late that evening, after they enjoyed cocoa and
biscuits together, it was time to go to their separate
dorms where Professor McGonagall would look in on
Hermione and Professor Dumbledore would stop by for a
brief chat with Harry. Hermione stood up and Harry
immediately stood too. She looked at him for a moment
and then smiled.
"Goodnight, Harry," she said. "I had a lovely day.
Thank you."
"Goodnight, Hermione," Harry replied. "It was one of
the best days I can ever remember, so thank you too."
She gave him another long look before turning on her
heel.
"Sleep well," she called. "See you tomorrow."
After she had gone, Harry went into his bedroom and got
ready for bed. He had much on his mind and had just
slipped between his sheets when Dumbledore arrived.
"Did you and Hermione have a good day, Harry," he
asked.
"We had a wonderful day thank you Professor," Harry
replied.
"That's good. That's good. Animals not causing the two
of you too much problem are they?"
"No. Hagrid showed us what needs to be done and I think
we have the hang of it now."
"I'm sure you have," Dumbledore smiled. "Well, Harry,
you look a little tired so I won't keep you."
"Must be all that fresh air and sun," Harry said.
"Not to mention hard work. Mustn't forget that."
"No, Professor.
"Well, goodnight, Harry. Sleep well."
"You too, sir. Goodnight."
After Dumbledore had left him, Harry lay back and tried
to replay the events on the beach in his mind... the
electrifying sight of Hermione removing her shirt and
shorts, his first glimpse of her in a bikini and his
first intimate contact with her while he was sitting on
her bum, tickling her.
In minutes, he was rigid again and he was still in that
state when he finally fell asleep. His dreams that
night were vivid, complex, nonsensical but, oh, so
erotic. When he awoke next morning, however, they
slipped from his mind like quicksilver. He still had to
change the bedding though.
***
That day, the weather was a little overcast and the
temperature had dropped a few degrees from the previous
day so, after taking care of the animals and walking
Fang, Harry and Hermione decided to spend some time in
Hagrid's cottage. Conversation was a little more
stilted than on the walk home the previous day. For one
reason, Harry was feeling more than a little guilty
about the lustful thoughts he harboured for Hermione
and the nocturnal outcome they had produced so he was
making a real effort to concentrate on other things.
Hermione busied herself tidying and dusting around the
cottage while Harry cleaned some of the tools that were
lying around in the barn. At noon, they had a long,
lazy lunch together and then sat in comfortable chairs
outside, sipping pumpkin juice, with Fang curled up
contentedly on Harry's feet.
Harry was still trying to keep his mind off sordid
thoughts, but it was like telling someone not to think
about the word "wheelbarrow". He was trying to banish
the image of Hermione's cleavage from his mind when she
suddenly looked over at him.
"Harry," she said, "do you ever think about sex?"
Harry nearly choked on his pumpkin juice.
"Well...," he managed at last.
His mind was racing. Was Hermione reading his mind? No,
not possible! But maybe he could use this opening as a
means of gently intimating what he was feeling for her
in order to gauge her reaction. He was about to move
the conversation in that direction when she spoke
again.
"I mean, have you noticed how all the most powerful
magicians seem to be men, not women. Voldemort,
Dumbledore, Snape, Quirrel... while women seem to be
consigned to the more passive roles of raising plants
and nursing injured students? Why do you think that
is?"
Harry's face fell. He should have known. Hermione was
simply being academic again. Praise be that he hadn't
said what was on his mind. He mumbled an answer about
the traditional nurturing roles of women as opposed to
the bellicose instincts of the male hunter-gatherer.
Hermione listened to him, nodding occasionally but
clearly not convinced. Truth to tell, neither was
Harry. He had not asked to be singled out as the
bulwark between Voldemort and the world and he
privately thought that Hermione had the potential to be
a far more powerful practitioner of magic than he would
ever be. Finally, staring off into the distance, he
muttered something about 'the gentler sex" and Hermione
hurled a cushion at him.
Shocked, he looked over at her and she was laughing at
him. He grabbed the cushion and threw it back at her.
She squealed, caught it and jumped up. Grabbing it by
the corner, she swung it at his head, still laughing.
He picked up his own cushion and swung it at her mid
section. She twisted sideways and the blow landed fair
and square on her backside. She reversed the arc of her
swing and her cushion smacked him on the back of his
head.
"That's it!!" he roared, launching a flurry of blows in
her direction. She screeched with laughter and raced
off round the yard. He finally caught up with her as
she had almost completed a full circuit of the garden.
They exchanged swings and thumps but, by now, they were
laughing so hard that there was no force to them. At
last, out of breath, they collapsed back into their
chairs.
"This is nice, Harry. I've never seen you laugh like
that before. I'm glad that I decided to stay at
Hogwarts," she said as she got her breath back.
"There hasn't been a lot to laugh at, when you think
about it... until now. And I'm glad you stayed too,
even if it was mainly for Hagrid's sake."
Hermione gave him that appraising look again.
"Yes... well, poor Hagrid never gets a break. I thought
it was high time he had a few days off," she said.
"Yes," said Harry. "You're quite right. It is."
Hermione said nothing else that offered Harry a chance
to test the waters and, once again, the day ended with
them sharing cocoa and biscuits together before
thanking each other for a nice day and then heading for
their separate dorms.
The next day it was raining and extremely muggy. After
breakfast, Hermione met Harry in the Hall as usual for
the short walk down to Hagrid's cottage. Today, she had
picked a pair of old, white jeans, a purple short-
sleeved blouse with what looked like a man's black
waistcoat buttoned over it... and her jaunty cap again.
Harry wore blue jeans and a grey T-shirt. They put on
big yellow waterproof capes before setting out on the
short walk down the hill to the cottage where they set
about feeding the outside animals and cleaning the
outside pens first. That done, they moved into the barn
and shed their capes before attending to the inside
creatures.
When they had finished, Harry reached up and removed
the coiled hose from its hook on the wall, connected it
to the tap, turned on the water and handed the hose to
Hermione. He grabbed a stiff bristle yard broom and, as
she directed the jet, he scrubbed and brushed to help
move the residue of the animal waste from the central
aisle where they had shovelled and brushed it, towards
the silage pit that was just outside the barn's main
doors. Fifteen minutes later, the floor was glistening
wet and clean.
Ignoring the pouring rain, Harry swept the last of the
droppings into the pit and turned to go back into the
barn. Hermione was standing just inside the door with
the hose aimed directly at him, and she was grinning.
"Don't you dare," he warned her.
"Why not?" she laughed. "You're soaked already."
"That's not the point," he said, moving to get past
her.
She immediately pointed the hose at him again.
"I'm warning you..."
She squeezed the trigger and sent a short burst of
water in his direction. It splashed over his boots.
"I mean it," Harry said. "I'll tan your backside if you
do."
"You wouldn't dare," she said. "I'd turn you into an
earwig if you tried."
"Not today, you won't, Hermione. No wand!"
Still laughing, she released another burst in his
direction. This just caught the bottoms of his jeans.
"Okay," he said grimly. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
He started after her and she turned the hose on him,
full force, hitting him in the chest. The coldness of
the water made him gasp. In seconds, he was soaked to
the skin, and the spatter had covered his glasses,
effectively blinding him. He took them off and stuffed
them into his jeans pocket before lumbering in her
direction. She gave him another burst and then,
squealing, dropped the hose and ran.
She headed straight for the ladder to the hay loft and
raced up it. At the top, she jumped into the loft and
started to haul the ladder up, trying to get it beyond
Harry's reach. She didn't make it. He jumped and caught
the ladder by its bottom rung. Hermione tried to haul
it up but there was no way she could lift it and Harry
too. He pulled it back down and leapt onto it. She
squeaked and backed away from the door. First his head
came into view and then his chest. In moments he was in
the loft and advancing on her, still dripping wet. She
looked behind her but there was nowhere to escape.
Knowing that he had her trapped, Harry was in no hurry.
He moved slowly towards her and she kept inching back
Finally, her back was against the stacked up bales and
still he was coming towards her. She cowered.
"No, Harry, please! I'm sorry."
But he could see she wasn't. For one thing she was
still laughing.
"You should have thought of that before you soaked me."
He was right up to her now.
"What are you going to do?" she asked.
"I told you. I'm going to tan your backside."
"You can't," she gasped.
"Why not?" he demanded.
"Because... well, you just can't is all."
Harry gave her a long, intense stare and she cowered a
little lower. Suddenly, he grabbed her around the
waist, lifted her clean off the ground in a bear hug
and sat himself down on one of the single bales of
straw around the loft. With the breath being squeezed
out of her by his grip, Hermione gurgled and struggled
but to no effect.
Harry was too strong for her and she realised for the
second time that she may have underestimated him. She
felt herself slipping down his chest and then his hands
grabbed her hips and swiftly twisted her body so that
she landed, stomach down across one of his legs. He
immediately place his other leg over hers, locking them
in place and she felt his left hand pushing down hard
on the back of her neck.
Hermione struggled and wriggled but Harry had her held
fast.
"You can't do this, Harry," she gasped. "It's
humiliating."
"So is being soaked to the skin by a trusted friend,"
Harry said.
Without any further warning, he raised his right hand
and delivered a solid slap to Hermione's denim-covered
rump. She squealed loudly, more from the surprise than
the pain. She hadn't really thought he'd do it.
"Harry Potter. You're a beast."
Whack.
"Ouch. Enough, Harry. That hurt!"
"It was meant to. Are you sorry for soaking me?"
"Not particularly."
Whack.
"Yipes, Harry. That really stings. Quit it."
"I will when you say you're sorry."
"Never."
Whack! Whack! Whack!
"Jumping Jehosophat, Harry. Alright. I'm sorry. I'm
sorry."
"And you won't do it again?"
"And I won't do it again."
Harry released her and she rolled off his knee to land
flat on her back on the bed of straw that covered the
floor.
"Until the next time," she grinned.
Exasperated, Harry slid off his seat and landed on the
straw, his knees straddling her hips. He grabbed her
wrists and pinned them to the ground above her head and
glared down at her. She lay there, grinning up at him,
totally unrepentant. He was about to turn her over and
spank her again but something stopped him. He realised
that she was not struggling but just looking up at him,
waiting to see what he would do next.
He felt his heart start pounding and felt sure that she
must be able to hear it hammering away in his chest.
Instinctively he knew that it had to be now or never.
He leaned forward and slowly lowered his lips towards
hers, fully expecting her to twist her head away... but
she didn't. Finally, their lips met and melted into
that first, wondrous kiss that he would never forget as
long as he lived. Tentatively at first, he repeated the
kiss and was overwhelmed to find that it was being
returned. He rolled off her and stretched out beside
her, letting go of her wrists. He placed his hand on
her shoulder and leaned over to kiss her again.
This time, her mouth opened a little way and he felt
her tongue brush over his lips. He followed suit and
soon they were eagerly exploring each other mouths,
probing, nibbling, and then kissing tenderly again.
Finally, Harry took a pause to marvel at what had just
happened.
"I've wanted to do that for a long time," he told her.
"Well, why didn't you?" she said. "I've been giving you
enough hints."
"Hints?" he said. "What hints?"
"Harry Potter," Hermione exclaimed, "for a brilliant
magician, you can be extremely dense. Did it not strike
you that my arranging to spend two weeks alone with you
was a hint?"
"Well..."
"Or the fact that I suddenly took to wearing shorts and
makeup?"
"I know, but..."
"Or that I lay around on a deserted beach, miles from
the nearest human, in a tiny bikini?"
"Yes, but you see..."
"Or that I stood around two nights in a row after we'd
had cocoa and biscuits, willing you to kiss me
goodnight? Or that I challenged you to tickle me? Or
that I got physical with you and a pillow? Did none of
that seem odd to you?"
"Enough," Harry protested. "the truth is, I didn't know
what to think. But, Hermione, rather than drop hints,
which I was too dense to pick up on, why didn't you use
a charm? I heard you talking to Ron about the
properties of the Muckleberry in love potions."
"Isn't that obvious?" Hermione asked. "I want you to
like me for who I am and as I am. If I'd used magic, I
would never have known what you really thought of me
and it wouldn't have been the same."
Harry looked at her and smiled broadly.
"You're right of course. How dumb am I? I've been
fancying you all this time but not wanting to risk
ruining our friendship by making a move that might not
be welcome. But I haven't been able to get you out of
my mind for weeks now. As to seeing you in that bikini,
it nearly finished me."
"I know. I saw."
"You saw?" Harry gasped, and felt his face burning with
embarrassment. "Oh, god! What must you have thought?"
"Well, I think I'd have been more upset if you'd had no
reaction at all. As it was, I took it as a compliment.
Do you really think I have a nice body, Harry?"
"Nice?" Harry exclaimed. "How about spectacular?"
Hermione laughed.
"Spectacular's good," she said. "But talking of bodies,
yours is still soaking and your teeth are chattering.
You have to get out of those wet clothes or you'll
catch pneumonia."
With that, she starting tugging at Harry's T-shirt,
trying to pull it up over his head.
"Whoa," said Harry, "what are you doing?"
"Getting you out of those wet clothes of course."
"But I've got nothing else to wear here."
"So? You've seen most of my body. It seems only fair
that I get to see yours."
"Yes, but there's a difference... isn't there?"
"Maybe, but if you don't get those things off, and
soon, you'll get sick and I can't handle the animals
alone. It's your call."
"You mean, take off everything?"
"Uh-huh. Everything."
She was grinning again.
"You set this up, didn't you?" Harry said.
"Uh-huh," Hermione nodded, laughing now. "Come on,
Harry, Get on with it. You're not shy are you?"
"Yes, I bloody am," he said, but he let Hermione pull
the T-shirt off. She stood up, and looked around the
loft, spotting some rough cloth and a tartan horse
blanket by the door. She grabbed them and came back to
where Harry was struggling to get his soaking wet jeans
off. She grabbed the bottom of the legs.
"Lift your bum," she demanded.
Harry did so and she heaved. The jeans slid down his
thighs, then over his knees and finally she was able to
whisk them off and drop them to one side. She looked
down and saw that he was still uncertain.
"Come on, Harry. Off with them."
Harry was struggling with a dilemma. At present, the
freezing water had caused his penis to shrink and he
was not at all sure that this was the best first
impression to make or, indeed, whether he was ready to
make a first impression of any sort. On the other hand,
experience told him that it didn't take much to bring
his dick surging to attention and what message would
that send to Hermione? She was standing there, waiting
for him to act.
"Oh well," he groaned, "in for a penny, in for a
pound."
He heaved his bum up off the floor and pulled his
underpants halfway down his thighs, covering himself
quickly with his hand. Hermione reached down and pulled
this last item of clothing off him.
She handed him one of the large pieces of rough cloth.
"Here, stand up and use this as a towel. It's quite
rough but it'll get your circulation going again."
Harry knew there was no way of doing as she suggested
without her seeing everything. He also knew that she
was right. He needed to get his circulation going again
to feel warm. Once he'd done that, the barn itself was
plenty warm. Abandoning all thoughts of modesty, he
stood, allowing Hermione her first, brief, full-frontal
view of a naked male body before he quickly turned his
back to her and began rubbing vigorously to dry himself
off. He missed seeing Hermione smile. He was not at all
bad looking, she thought.
"How are you feeling, Harry?" she asked.
He half turned to answer her.
"Bloody embarrassed, but I'm starting to feel much
warmer already."
"Why don't you face me, Harry?" she said quietly.
"Don't you think that I'm as curious about your body as
you are about mine?"
As if in a daze, he turned to face her and saw her eyes
go immediately to his groin, just as he had stared at
her camel toe when she was on the beach. That memory
was enough. Under her steady gaze, his prick started to
twitch and swell. In stages, it jerked from flaccid to
half mast to fully rampant.
He saw her jaw drop and heard her gasp.
"Harry, it's so big," she gulped.
"Is it?" he said.
"Well, I've no previous experience, but it looks big to
me."
"You're not disgusted with me, are you?"
"Why would I be disgusted?" she said. "I told you, it's
a sort of compliment. Even so, although I saw the bulge
in your pants the other day, I had no idea..."
"I'd better cover myself," he said.
Hermione sat back down on the straw and watched him as
he took the horse blanket and folded it in half before
wrapping it round his waist like a kilt. He tucked the
loose end into the waist and sat down beside her. She
smiled at him and he leaned in and kissed her again.
She wrapped her arm around behind his head and pulled
him to her. They kissed again and then Harry lay down
on the straw on his back. Hermione stretched out beside
him and laid her head on his chest.
Harry reached over and removed her cap, then loosened
her hair so that it fell down her back. She leaned over
him and they kissed again for several minutes with
increasing passion. When they next paused for breath,
Harry pushed her flat on her back beside him and
propped himself up on one elbow so that he could look
down at her.
"Can I ask you something," he said.
"Of course," she answered.
"How long have you been 'dropping hints'?"
"Oh, for about four months."
"Four months!" Harry gasped. "Why didn't you say
something?"
"Because it's up to the boy to make the running... not
the girl."
"But I thought you were a strong believer in the
equality of the sexes."
"In most things, but there are some matters in which
I'm quite old-fashioned."
"What would you have done if I hadn't made the first
move?"
"I don't know, but let me ask you a question. If you
felt the same, why did it take you so long?"
Harry thought for a moment.
"I told you. I was afraid that if you didn't feel the
same way about me, I'd ruin our friendship, and nothing
would be worth the risk of doing that. In fact,
"afraid" doesn't really cover it. I was terrified. I
still am. I don't want to spoil things."
"Harry Potter. What are we going to do about you?
Friends forever... remember? You chose that as a
password. And if you don't know by now..."
She shook her head in amusement.
Harry felt a great wave of affection pass over him. It
didn't quell his lustful thoughts but it did complement
them. He thought that Hermione was the most wonderful
creature he would ever meet and the most desirable. He
felt himself swelling again. He looked at her. She
looked at him, lying back in the straw, completely
relaxed... unlike him. His hand trembling at what he
was about to do, he reached across and started to
unbutton the black waistcoat she wore over her purple
shirt.
"Harry, what are you doing?" she whispered.
"You've seen all of me," he rasped, trying to catch his
breath. "I want to see all of you."
"But you've seen most of me," she said.
"Not the best bits," he smiled.
"Oh," was all she said.
He fumbled all six buttons open and flipped back the
vest. Only the top button of her shirt was unfastened
but the thin material clung to her like a second skin
and Harry was surprised to see two small bumps visible
where the gentle swell of her breasts met the fabric.
He started at the first closed button and began to work
his way down. With the first button undone, he glimpsed
bare skin and, with second, the top of a strapless bra
and the valley between her breasts.
"Sit up a moment," he urged.
She did so and he reached round her, slid his hands
under her blouse, up her back and unclipped her bra.
Then he laid her back on the straw and pulled the bra
free. He could now see the darker outline of her
areolae through the thin cotton of her blouse. It was
enough to bring him fully erect again.
Hermione saw the tent in his "kilt" and looked up at
him. She saw his eyes gazing at her chest.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Harry," she said "but
there's not a lot to see in that department, I'm
afraid.
Harry got the last two buttons undone and gently pulled
back one side of her shirt. He gasped, as his wildest
desire was finally fulfilled. He had revealed a breast
that was so sweet, so perfect in his eyes, that he felt
tears of joy forming. The flesh was pale white, with a
light brown circle at the tip from which extended a
hard, pink nipple. He gazed at it in wonder for a
minute before looking at her face. She was watching him
and he detected the anxiety in her. Suddenly, she was
no longer the confident one.
"Oh, Hermione," he said. "What are you talking about...
disappoint me. You have the most beautiful breasts..."
He giggled suddenly.
"...I was about to say "that I've ever seen" - but
yours are the first I've ever seen. But I love them.
Can I touch it... please?"
Hermione sighed with relief.
"I guess so," she said.
Harry reached out and handled the exposed breast as if
it might break. He heard Hermione sigh as his hands
finally made contact with her warm flesh. Gently, he
squeezed, delighted by the way that it fitted his
cupped hand so perfectly and by the way that her
hardened nipple pressed into his palm. He bent down and
kissed it, and she sighed again.
Encouraged, Harry gave his attention to the waistband
of her white jeans, It was a struggle but, eventually,
he had it undone. He moved to unbutton the fly,
conscious that his knuckles were pressing on her pubic
area, causing her to wriggle a little.
"Lift your bottom," he ordered, and Hermione did as he
had said.
Harry raised her legs in the air, slid her jeans off
and dropped them beneath her, laying her legs back down
over them. Now all that stood between him and the final
revelation were her white cotton panties. He could see
that camel-toe again and he could wait no longer. Using
both hands, he reached for the waistband at her hips.
"Lift again," he said.
This time, there was a pause before she complied and,
for one moment, he thought that she was going to
object, but then she raised her bum and he removed the
last veil. She lay back, arms stretched above her head
and one breast covered by the shirt. Then she slowly
spread her legs for him.
Harry just sat back on his butt and stared. Hermione's
pussy was virtually hairless and the outer lips of her
labia were just slightly puffed up. The small notch
that was her clitoris was just visible but the entrance
to her vagina was still concealed... not that Harry
knew all that much about female anatomy. It didn't
matter. She was everything that he had imagined or
dreamt about... and more.
Hermione saw him looking at her most secret area and
saying nothing. In spite of her making the running to
this point, she was not really that bold.
"Is it alright, Harry?" she asked nervously.
"No, it's not 'alright'," he said and saw the shock on
her face.
"It's wonderful... is what it is."
Relief swept over her.
"Oh, Harry, I was so worried you'd be disappointed,"
she said.
Harry ran his hand over her hairless delta, causing her
to shudder.
"I love it, Hermione. It really is wonderful."
He continued to caress the area for a moment and then
lay down beside her. She made no move to cover herself.
She kissed him again and then looked at him earnestly.
"Can I ask you a favour?" she said.
"Of course. What is it?"
Hermione nodded at the tent in Harry's "kilt" which had
not in any way subsided.
"Can I look at it again... and touch it, maybe?"
In spite of their new intimacy, Harry could not help
feeling embarrassed still, but he nodded agreement.
"I guess, but will you take your blouse off first. If
I'm going to be completely naked, so should you be."
Hermione immediately sat upright and slipped the shirt
and vest off her shoulders, tossing it to one side. She
heard Harry's intake of breath and saw him gazing at
her breasts. Her nipples hardened again and she reached
out to pull the tucked-in end of the blanket free from
his waist, flipping the coarse fabric aside. Harry sat
back, legs splayed and his penis standing bolt upright.
Hermione studied it for a long moment, especially the
folds of loose skin at its tip, with the round pink tip
pushing through.
"Is that a foreskin?" she asked.
"Er... yes," Harry blushed.
She reached out with a finger and pushed lightly on the
end.
"It's quite hard, isn't it," she said in a surprised
voice.
"It is now. It isn't always."
She gently wrapped her hand around it.
"It's so warm," she said.
She slid her hand down its length until she encountered
his testicles, which she cupped carefully.
"It's lovely, Harry," she smiled, releasing him and
laying back down.
"You're lovely too." he smiled. "I still can't quite
believe this. I've been going nuts for weeks now,
wanting to see you like this but quite sure it would
never happen. But here you are, and it's better than I
ever imagined."
"Wow," she said. "I really thought that you didn't find
me attractive... that is, until I saw your reaction to
my bikini."
She grinned as Harry blushed again. Harry thought again
about the mental anguish he'd experienced in trying to
decide whether or not to make that first move.
"Well, it's hard, isn't it?" he said.
Hermione burst out laughing.
"It certainly is!" she said, nodding at his still
rampant dick.
"You know what I meant," Harry protested.
"I'm sorry," she grinned. "But you are so serious
sometimes. I thought you were going to choke when I
asked you if you ever thought about sex. I've never
seen anyone so embarrassed."
She started laughing again.
"You brat," Harry roared. "You did that deliberately?"
She nodded.
"Then it's time I taught you another lesson."
And he prepared to tickle her again but she was ready
for him this time and rolled sideways so quickly that,
instead of landing on her, Harry landed face-down in
the straw. Quick as a flash, it was Hermione who was
straddling him and sitting on his backside. Harry was
intensely sensitive to tickling and Hermione was
totally merciless. She soon had him hysterical and
begging her to stop.
Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Hermione removed her
fingers from his armpits and knelt up so that Harry was
able to roll onto his back, with her still straddling
him. She knelt there, totally nude now, her hands on
her hips, head tilted to one side, shoulders back,
breasts jutting and Harry thought that he had died and
gone to heaven. He reached up and fondled her breasts,
using a finger to explore her swollen nipples. She
closed her eyes and tilted her head back, sighing with
pleasure. He took her hands and pulled her down on top
of him, feeling her hardened nipples pushing against
his chests. Their lips met and, this time, the feelings
were even more intense as each knew that they had been
granted open access to each other's body.
Harry found himself experiencing new and ever more
arousing sensations, such as Hermione's flat belly
pressed against his own, her legs spread and stretched
alongside his and, wonder of wonders, her pussy forcing
his rigid prick down between his legs. Automatic
responses that neither had ever experienced before were
coursing through their bodies and pure instinct was
replacing experience and knowledge. Hermione heard
Harry grunt with discomfort as his penis was bent
painfully downwards, so she slid, slowly, down the
length of his body until her hands were on his hips and
her face was level with his groin, allowing his dick to
spring upright again.
She spent a moment or two studying it again, before
reaching out to grasp it with one hand. Hesitantly at
first, she leaned down and kissed it and Harry
shuddered. She was alarmed for just a second until she
realised that it was pleasure not disgust that he was
feeling. Encouraged, she kissed it again, then opened
her mouth a little to take in the tip, which was
starting to seep a pungent, clear fluid that was salty
on her tongue. This time, Harry actually groaned with
pleasure and she knew that she was on the right track.
She may have lacked experience but she didn't lack
knowledge and she slid her mouth down his shaft as far
as was comfortable, sucked hard and then slid back up.
Glancing quickly to see what effect this was having on
Harry, she saw that his eyes were closed and his head
was tilted back in ecstasy.
She tried doing it again and heard Harry say something.
She didn't catch all the words but they included
"wonderful"... which seemed to be his favourite word of
the day. So she continued moving up and down on him
and, as she relaxed a little, she was able to take in a
little more of him, until she was covering almost all
of his length with each stroke.
Harry, too, knew something of the theory of sex but
nothing can really prepare and adolescent, boy or girl,
for the overwhelming sensations that sweep through the
mind and body when sharing that experience for the
first time with someone who feels about you as you do
about them. Things were moving so fast that he was
hardly having time to absorb what was happening,
although he wanted desperately to savour every moment.
Perversely, he didn't want things to slow down... not
that his eager, young body would have been in any mood
to listen anyway as Hermione's tongue lapped at the
throbbing head of his dick, sending tingling shocks
along its length.
With your best mates all sleeping just a few feet away,
life in a dormitory made self-stimulation next to
impossible so Harry's ejaculations to that point had
all been as a result of erotic dreams that he instantly
forgot after being woken by the violent expulsion of
cum under the covers. This time, however, he could feel
the welling up of sensation as Hermione continued her
steady sliding and sucking. It moved from a twitch to a
rhythmic contraction of his stomach muscles which was
quickly accompanied by warmth spreading down to his
testicles, causing them to tighten. He felt pressure
building at the base of his penis and could feel his
heart rate increasing as adrenalin flooded his body.
At last, he knew what was about to happen and he gasped
a warning.
"I'm coming, Hermione. I'm coming."
She slid off him just in time and he pumped a powerful
stream of white semen onto the straw between his legs.
Hermione watched in awe as jet after jet arced through
the air until at last his heaving body spurted just
once more and he collapsed back onto the ground in an
ecstatic daze, his eyes closed and his chest heaving.
"Wow, Harry," she said at last. "Are you okay?"
"Oh, yes!!" he sighed. "That was fantastic."
"Oh, good," she said, sounding relieved.
"Just give me a moment," Harry murmured.
Hermione lay down beside him and watched intently as
his penis slowly subsided.
"That is so amazing," she said at last. "It's just like
magic."
"Yes, well it may take a little magic to get it back up
again in a hurry," he grinned.
"Well, we're not in a hurry, are we?" Hermione smiled.
"As far as I'm concerned, I don't want this moment to
ever end," Harry said.
Hermione sighed contentedly and lay back.
"That's good then," she laughed.
Harry's breathing soon returned to normal and he sat
up, cross-legged, to look at her. All shyness had gone
now and she allowed his eyes to take in every inch of
her body.
"I want to make you feel good too," he said at last,
"but I'm not sure how to do it."
"You don't have to," she said
"Maybe, but I want to," he said. "What should I do?"
"Well, you could rub me... down there."
"You mean... your... your slit?" he asked nervously.
"Yes. There's a spot at the top, my clit, that makes me
feel really good when it's rubbed."
"Oh, wow! Okay, if you're sure."
"I'm sure," she smiled.
Harry studied the target area for a moment and then
extended an experimental finger. He ran it lightly
along the line of her pussy.
"Like this?" he asked.
"Yes, but a little harder."
Harry followed her instructions and watched her face.
Her smile became dreamy and she closed her eyes. As he
rubbed backwards and forwards along the line of
puckered flesh, he felt the small protrusion at the top
end begin to swell and heard Hermione sigh with
contentment. The folds of flesh on either side of the
slit had started to puff up again and, as he continued
to rub, concentrating more and more on the little
hardened knob at the top, he felt a trace of moisture
forming under his finger. The outer lips continued to
swell and the trace of moisture became a stream. He saw
Hermione's stomach tighten and a low moan of pleasure
escaped her lips.
Harry rubbed a little faster and discovered that, now
that they were fully swollen, the outer lips had
revealed a small entrance at the base of her slit and
everything now made sense. He allowed his finger to
explore the opening and watched Hermione spread her
legs wide to give him and unobstructed view and
complete access. His finger probed and, this time, the
moan of pleasure was louder. He pressed a little harder
but his way was barred by a veil of skin so he returned
to massaging and tweaking her clit. Hermione began to
breathe harder and Harry changed his position to kneel
between her spread legs.
Looking down at her, he felt drawn to try doing to her
what she had done to him so he bent over and applied
his tongue to her crack, newly aware of her musky odour
and pungent taste. She positively shuddered with
pleasure as his tongue ran over her swollen flesh and
found her rigid nubbin. He took it gently between his
teeth and pulled. Hermione's body heaved and she
squealed as a massive orgasm swept through her with the
force of a tidal wave. Her bucking body pushed Harry
aside and he watched, first in concern and then in awe
as she convulsed in ecstasy.
Finally, the wave subsided and she opened her eyes to
look at him.
"Thank you, Harry," she sighed. "That was the best
ever."
Harry looked puzzled.
"The best ever? Do you mean that someone else has done
it to you?"
"Of course not, you idiot. But I have done it to
myself."
"Oh," he said.
"Why? Haven't you... done it to yourself, I mean?" she
asked.
"Well, no... not exactly."
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean... not
exactly?"
"Well, what I mean is, I haven't jerked myself off but
I do sometimes have dreams that cause me to..."
"Ejaculate?"
"Yes."
"What do you dream about?
"I can't ever remember... but you, I would imagine."
"So what do we do... in your dreams I mean?"
"I told you. I can't remember."
Hermione gave him a wicked grin. "What do you imagine
us doing then?" she asked.
Harry blushed and said nothing.
"Come on, Harry. There's no point in being shy now.
What do you think about when we're together?"
"Well, I think that you are extremely pretty and
very... desirable. You know what happens to me when I
see your body so, until now, I've tried not to think
about it when you're around."
"And now?"
As if in direct response to her question, Harry felt
his prick starting to harden again. Hermione burst out
laughing.
"Harry Potter," she said. "Looks like you did bring
your magic wand with you after all."
Harry made an instinctive move to cover himself but she
stopped him.
"No, don't hide it, Harry. I am so happy that I can
make it do that". She paused for a moment, until he was
fully hard again. Then she smiled at him
"I've always been looked at as a "swat" ...you know...
clever, but a pain. Oh, it's alright. I know what
people say. I've never thought of myself as being
attractive but to see your penis standing up like
that... because of me... makes me feel special."
"You are special. You always have been... to me... and
to Ron, but maybe in a different way."
"Yes, well... thank you... but we were talking about
your imagination and what you saw us doing."
"I'm sorry, Hermione, but I don't think I can tell
you."
"Nonsense, Harry."
"No, it's not," he protested.
"I bet I can tell you... and I won't need magic to do
it."
Harry just looked at her.
"Harry, you're a really good-looking boy. About four
months ago I sort of knew that what I felt for you was
a little more than friendship. The minute I realised
that you were feeling something too, all I could think
about was that, whatever happened later in life, I
wanted you to be my first, maybe my only, lover. I'm
not just being conceited when I say that I think you've
been thinking the same way, haven't you?"
"Well, yes, of course but, Hermione, it's a humungous
step and I'm not sure it's right."
His voice trailed off, and he looked at her miserably.
"Why isn't it..." she asked, "...if you want it and I
want it? These next few days may be the only time
before we graduate that we'll have the chance to be
alone together. And now that Voldemorts's back, who
knows what dangers we still have to face, or if we'll
succeed in beating him. If we lose next time, you know
he'll kill us. I don't want to risk going to my grave
without knowing what sex is all about, and there's no
one else I want to share that with but you."
Harry studied her serious expression and his resolve
crumpled.
"Put like that, what can I say? You can see how ready I
am but, Hermione, it's very important to me that you
know that's it's not just the sex. I really do care
about you and I want to know that you're really sure
about this."
"I do know that you care, Harry, and I'm certain that,
if we do this, it'll be for the right reasons," she
said.
"Oh, boy! Wow!" was all he could manage.
Hermione burst out laughing at the expression of
delight on Harry's face.
"I do have a suggestion, though. I think that we should
hold off until tomorrow... and that we should find
somewhere more comfortable than a bed of straw. It
prickles in places I'd rather not have prickled."
Harry was not sure whether he was disappointed or
relieved about the suggested delay but he, too, was
finding the floor of the hay loft less than ideal so he
readily agreed. Hermione stood up and reached for her
panties.
"Before you get dressed again, Hermione...," Harry
said, standing also.
Hermione stopped and looked at him.
"What?" she asked.
"I've dreamt about this for so long, can I just look at
you for a moment or two first."
Harry saw Hermione blush but she smiled at him too.
"I guess so," she said and, as he watched, enraptured,
she did a slow pirouette for him, her eyes returning to
his rampant erection as she completed the circle.
"You really are beautiful," he whispered.
"Oh, Harry," she grinned.
She moved to him, stood on tiptoe and flung her arms
around his neck, kissing him hard. His hands went to
her buttocks and he pulled her close to him, feeling
his prick slide down her slit as it was deflected
downwards again. She gasped at the contact, and kissed
him harder, their tongues clashing in their excitement.
Then Hermione pulled herself away.
"I'm not sure I can wait till tomorrow," she laughed.
"They say all good things are worth waiting for," Harry
replied.
"I know but..."
She pointed to his erection.
"... it seems a pity to waste that."
She dropped to her knees in front of him, and took hold
of his shaft, working her hand back and forth along it.
Sure that it was as hard as it would get, she leaned in
and took him in her mouth again. This time, Harry was
so aroused that it was only moments before he felt an
orgasm starting to build.
"I'm coming, Hermione," he warned her but she did not
back off this time.
"I can't hold off," he shouted, but still she held him
fast, her soft lips clamped tight around his rod,
sliding and sucking on him.
"Oh, god!!" he yelled, jerking violently as he exploded
into her mouth.
Hermione rode out his spasms and swallowed furiously to
keep pace with his massive spurts of cum until, at
last, he subsided, breathless and weak at the knees.
He was almost in tears.
"Holy shit, Hermione, I'm so sorry," he choked.
"Don't be. It was my choice and, besides, it tastes a
lot better than Polyjuice."
"Oh, my god, Hermione. That was... I mean, I've never
felt anything like that. I didn't know I could feel as
good as that."
"The best is yet to come, Harry," she smiled. "At
least, I hope you'll think it's the best," she added
nervously.
"I hope you'll feel the same way," Harry said quickly
"but I don't mind admitting that I'm nervous about it.
It's supposed to hurt the girl the first time. Is there
a charm or a potion that we can use to prevent that?"
"Even if there were, I wouldn't want to use it. The
pain is only supposed to last for a moment or two and
it's a part of sharing the first experience with
someone. I wouldn't want to miss out on any part of
that... especially with you. Don't worry, Harry. Follow
your instincts and I'm sure that everything will be
fantastic."
She kissed him quickly and then started to get dressed.
Harry watched her for a moment or two and then, when
his erection finally abated, he followed suit.
Needless to say, Harry didn't neglect to give Hermione
a goodnight kiss that night. His only uncomfortable
moment was when Dumbledore stopped by to see how Harry
was doing soon after he had got into bed.
"Did you have a good day, Harry," he asked.
"Oh, yes sir, I had a great day," Harry enthused.
"It was not the best day, as far as the weather goes.
What did you two get up to?
Harry thought furiously and then came up with a version
of the truth.
"After mucking out and feeding the animals, we attended
to a few things in the hayloft until the rain stopped"
"Very sensible of you," Dumbledore smiled. "No doubt
you got the feel of things up there."
"Oh, yes sir," Harry said, smothering a grin. "I did
indeed."
"Good boy. Well, then. I'll wish you goodnight."
"Goodnight, Professor," Harry replied politely.
Thinking back on the momentous events of the day, Harry
fully expected to be awake half the night but much to
his surprise, he was asleep in moments and slept like a
log.
***
Next day, he awoke to see the sun streaming through the
windows. He jumped up and looked outside. It was going
to be the perfect day. He jumped into his work clothes
and hurried down to the common room. Hermione was
already there, dressed for work, and as soon as he
arrived, produced a hearty breakfast for them.
"You're going to need your strength today, Harry," she
quipped.
They raced through the schedule of tasks and, by 10.30,
they were finished... their best time yet.
As they walked back up the hill to the school, to
shower and change, Harry looked over at Hermione and
still found it hard to believe that, before the day was
out, they were going to be lovers in the full sense of
the word.
"Where do you think we should go?" he asked shyly.
"I've been thinking about that," she answered. "What do
you think about going back to the river bank. It has a
place to swim and it also has some shade. We don't want
to get sunburn on our parts. It would be a little hard
to explain to Madame Pomfrey!"
"That's what I was thinking too. And it's completely
private."
"Nonetheless, Harry, this time I think we should take
our wands with us, just in case we run into someone
unexpectedly. I'd want to be able to make sure they
forgot they ever saw us."
"Good idea," Harry agreed. "Okay, the river bank it is
and, this time, I guess we won't need swimming
costumes, will we!"
Forty-five minutes later, they were ready to leave.
Harry had chosen a green golf shirt and white shorts.
As usual, he was first to arrive in the Hall. When
Hermione arrived, she was wearing a one-piece outfit
that looked a little like a boiler suit, except that it
was in light blue denim. It had a zip that ran from the
neck to the crotch. If he was being honest, Harry was a
little disappointed that she had not chosen something a
little sexier but, knowing what was ahead, he didn't
complain. They set out and were unusually quiet as they
wended their way alongside the forest to the point
where the pathway led down to the river. From there, it
was another fifteen minutes to the grassy knoll beside
the swimming hole.
Harry had brought a soft blanket with him and he spread
it on the grass under the shade trees. On this
occasion, they were able to whisk up a splendid picnic
at the flick of a wand. Harry was so nervous that he
ate only a little of what was on offer but Hermione
tucked in with gusto. Once they had finished eating,
another flick and the residue vanished. Hermione kicked
off her shoes, settled back happily on the blanket
using her backpack as a pillow, and looked up at Harry.
"You're very quiet, Harry," she said. "Not having
second thoughts are you?"
"Not at all," Harry said quickly, "but, quite honestly,
I'm very nervous as well as very excited."
"Yes... well it's a big step I know, but I'm ready to
take it if you are."
"I just don't want to disappoint you," Harry confessed.
"I'm sure you won't", she smiled. "Now, lie down next
to me and try to relax."
Harry didn't need a second bidding and he stretched out
on his side, close to her, propping himself up, as
before, on his elbow so that he could look at her. He
still could not believe that this beautiful girl with
the twinkling eyes, the adorable snub nose and the
sparkling smile was as infatuated with him as he was
with her. As if to make sure he was not dreaming, he
leaned over and kissed her gently on the lips, feeling
a reassuring response as she eagerly kissed him back.
Now that they both knew how things stood between them,
there was an unspoken decision not to rush things. They
had privacy, they had time and they had each other.
They kissed again, using their tongues to explore lips
and teeth. Harry's affection for Hermione overwhelmed
him and he kissed her forehead and her cheeks before
slipping his head sideways to nibble her ear. She
squealed with pleasure and he returned to kissing her
lips. Both were acutely aware that the next short while
would change their lives and their relationship for
ever.
His hand trembling again, but with emotion this time,
not fear, Harry reached for the small metal tag to the
zip that ran down the entire length of Hermione's denim
boiler suit. Hermione watched his face as he slowly
began to slide the zip down. He was anticipating
encountering lacy underwear but, as the zip descended,
all that was revealed was bare flesh... no bra. Lower
still, and more bare flesh... no panties.
Harry gasped. The denim suit was the only garment
Hermione was wearing! All morning, just one zip had
separated him from complete access to her body. He
gaped and looked up at Hermione's face. She was
grinning like mad.
"Ye gods, Hermione!" he gasped. "That's the sexiest
thing I've ever seen. I just love it."
"So I see," she laughed, pointing at the tent in his
shorts.
"Well, you're so beautiful, what do you expect," he
protested.
"Thank you, Harry," she laughed, "but you'd better get
those shorts off before they split."
All shyness now gone, Harry hurried to strip off all
his clothes while Hermione wriggled out of the gaping
boiler suit. Both now completely naked, they lay back
down and simply looked at each other for a while. Harry
noted that Hermione was equally aroused, her nipples
perky and even her clit quite prominent as she gazed at
his raging hard-on. He gently fondled her breast,
running a finger over the stiff little stem and then
around it, feeling the granulations of the areola
before squeezing the firm flesh and leaning in to suck
on the tip.
This elicited a long sigh as Hermione, in turn, felt
for, and held, Harry's throbbing prick. Harry
alternated kisses between her breasts and then started
to plant them lower, on the gradual slope leading down
to her belly-button. Hermione released him as he
continued to move down on her. His tongue tickled her
belly-button and she giggled wildly and then she felt
him moving lower still, over her flat, firm belly to
her mound.
"Oh Harry," she murmured as he licked her delta before
moving on again.
"Oh... Harry!!" she sighed happily as his tongue found
and toyed with her fully engorged clit.
She was unable to lie still under his probing and her
body began to twist and turn as his tongue flickered
back and forth, then down again, along her flooding
labial channel to where her vagina was now opening to
his darting tongue.
"Oh, god, Harry. You're driving me mad. Do it... do it
now... please," she begged.
She spread her legs wide and Harry moved to stretch out
over her. He lowered his body until he could feel his
prick grazing her labia. He slid the sensitive tip back
and forth along her slit, poking at her clit, driving
her body wild with desire for him and rousing him to a
peak of anticipation for the final act.
"Please, Harry. Just put it in me... please!" she
wailed.
Harry lowered his body still further until he felt the
tip of his penis settle against her hole. He tested the
resistance and heard Hermione's sharp intake of breath
which he took as a signal that she was bracing herself
for the piercing of her hymen. He pushed down... hard,
and she whimpered as he broke through the thin veil
that guarded her entrance. Harry felt himself sliding
into her warm, welcoming passage.
Slowly, he pushed all the way in, feeling the walls of
her vagina accepting him and gripping him firmly. He
felt the tip of his shaft grazing her cervix and
marvelled that such a small entrance would hide a
passage supple enough to accept all of him. Now fully
encased in her, he paused to allow her to recover from
the initial pain. He felt light-headed with joy and was
aware of an indescribable sense of building pleasure.
"Are you alright?" he asked, supporting his weight on
his outstretched arms.
"I'm fine," Hermione grunted, "or I will be in a
moment. God, Harry, I was right. It is big."
"I'm sorry, Hermione. I'll pull out."|
He started to do so but she clamped her hands on his
butt and pulled him back down into her.
"You'll do no such thing, Harry Potter. It feels so...
I don't know what to say. You fill me up and somehow
makes me feel complete."
"I think I know what you mean. I feel a total part of
you and yet very much me."
"That's it exactly," Hermione smiled, "but, by the way
it's throbbing inside me, I think your "wand" is ready
to perform some more magic."
"Only if you're okay."
"I told you, I'm fine. And don't pull out at the last
minute. The one piece of real magic I've used is to
make sure that I don't get pregnant."
Harry slowly pulled back and then slid deep into her
again, drawing a happy sigh from Hermione. Relieved
that she no longer seemed to be hurting, he tried it
again and when Hermione showed no sign of discomfort,
Harry relaxed and let nature take over. He began a
slow, steady pumping up and down, concentrating on
allowing the top of his shaft to rub against Hermione's
clit on most of his strokes. The result was, indeed,
almost magical. Already highly aroused, Hermione began
to breathe heavily, then pant. Her body started to
heave spasmodically and then took up the accelerating
rhythm with him so that, as he was thrusting down, she
was thrusting up to meet him.
Faster they went and Hermione felt as though her
nipples might burst at the tip of her firm breasts
that, to Harry's delight, were bouncing in unison with
his thrusts. At this point, there was no stopping the
rush of sensation that both were now feeling. Heat
spread to their pounding loins, their breathing became
strained, ecstasy that was almost pain surged to penis
and vagina. In perfect unison, they crested, crying and
laughing, as the most intense wave of pleasure either
had ever felt, or imagined, held them frozen together
and his hot sperm splashed over the back of her
pulsating passage in powerful bursts.
At that moment, Harry would not have cared if Voldemort
himself had appeared and struck him dead, for he was
sure that there could be no greater bliss possible than
this. Hermione, too, was – at that moment - totally
fulfilled. Harry loved her for herself, thought her
beautiful and had consummated his feelings in a manner
that promised even greater hope for their future... for
love... unconditional love between two people... was
the one thing that Voldemort could not overcome.
Individually, she knew that she and Harry were
powerful. Together, she believed that they would be
insuperable.
And in that moment, too, something that had been
puzzling her suddenly made sense. She had been
surprised by the amount of freedom from supervision she
and Harry had been allowed. After all, they were
adolescents... with all that implied. But now it
occurred to her that Dumbledore and McGonagall almost
certainly knew what was developing between her and
Harry. After all, they seemed to be aware of everything
else.
She now saw that – far from preventing it – they had,
in all probability, turned a deliberately blind eye,
permitting the relationship to mature for the very
reason that it would give she and Harry a powerful
weapon against Voldemort that he would not likely
anticipate. Surprise would give them the edge against
him.
She lay there with Harry locked in her arms and still
deep inside her, feeling that the die was cast and that
they now had a real chance to beat Voldemort once and
for all.
END
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
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