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Disclaimer: This is an erotic story. As always YMMV. You must be 18 to read
this story, be able to read erotica in your community and not be offended by
the contents of it. If you are not 18, live in an overly repressed community,
or are easily offended, move on. This is not for you.

This is also fiction and as such is protected under the first amendment. I do
not claim to own the characters used herein, I'm just borrowing them for a
little while, and there is no intent to use the characters for profit. Any
copyrighted names, works, etc. remain property of their respective owner(s).

This story may not be redistributed. It seems this has been a problem for
others and I would like to avoid it if I can.

Feedback: For all my previous stories I have been content to take what little
feedback I received without complaint. I've always felt that I was giving
something back to a community that has provided me much entertainment, so any
response was gravy. But this story has taken so long to write, more on that
in the afterword if you are interested, that this time I cannot simply sit
back and accept whatever feedback may come my way. No, this time I must ask
that anyone who reads this take just a few seconds to drop me an e-mail and
tell me what they thought of it. Good or bad, I'll take it all. This way at
least I'll know if anyone other than the people I send this out to via e-mail
is reading the story and if it's been worth the effort. You can contact me
at: [email protected] . Please?

Dedication: This story is dedicated to all the Harry/Hermione `shippers out
there, whether they read naughty stories like this one or not. JKR has made
it clear in recent interviews which way she intends to point Hermione, and I
won't spoil it for you here, but as far as I am concerned our favorite geeky
witch, not counting Willow, who's my other favorite geeky witch, has already
made her choice. So to those of us who desperately want H to choose H, this
one's for you, er, us.

Spoiler Warning: I've tried not to write anything at all in here that could
spoil things for anybody, but just to be cautious, keep in mind you read this
at your own risk. Again, I really don't think anything in here could be
considered a spoiler, but you never know. Also, this story sort of straddles
a line between the book versions of the characters, and the movie versions.
There are some small differences as anyone who watches and reads both can
tell you. So the observant reader will notice some references to the movies
through GOF and some to the books through HBP. As of this writing I have not
seen the 5th movie, but I have just finished the 7th book. If you do find
something here that seems a little too similar to either of those, without
it being an obvious reference, it is a complete, and unintentional,
coincidence. So, with that in mind, I wish you Happy Reading. And remember,
feedback is good. Feedback is the writer's friend.

And now the story -


Harry Potter: Harry Potter And The Magical Birthday
(mf,oral,first,cons,rom,marathon sex (kind of my trademark))
by TNP ([email protected])

If Harry Potter had been asked to pick one word to describe his life - the
years of it he had actually lived so far that is, Harry was much too poor a
student of divination to risk trying to describe what his future would
bring - it would have to be "stable". Oh he would consider the word "boring"
as well, he was a teenager after all, and depending on the day might actually
use it, but in any real contemplation of his 16 plus years on the planet one
would have to conclude that "boring" was hardly an apt description of Harry
Potter's life. Particularly when you took the last six years spent at
Hogwarts into consideration. No, "stable" seemed the best possible single
choice of descriptors even if it didn't always look that way to an outside
observer.

This would certainly be true of Harry's time with the Dursleys in the years
before Harry discovered his magical heritage and started attending magic
school. Many words could be used to describe life with Harry's relatives at
Number Four Privet Drive, just as many other words could not, but "stable"
definitely fit. Stable, if not loving. Constant, if not supportive. Secure,
if not dependable. Stable.

And then, when Harry turned 11, came the second biggest change in his life
and the first since Albus Dumbledore had dropped him on his Aunt and Uncle's
doorstep the night his parents had died almost 10 years earlier. He was to
begin attending Hogwarts. This started another period of relative stability
in Harry's life, but stability of a completely different kind than he had
previously experienced. At Hogwarts Harry found loving, albeit not universal,
acceptance and steadfast friendships and supportive role models and all the
other things he had never had when living with his relations. He found
something else there as well. Change.

At Hogwarts, change was a constant. If it wasn't one thing changing it was
another. New classes to replace the ones already completed and with the new
classes often came new teachers. New friends with the start of each new
school year as older students went on to graduate and say goodbye. And there
were always new challenges to be met, each one just a little bit more
difficult than the last, as the staff sought to prepare Harry and his
classmates for their lives as adults in the Wizarding community. It was
constant change. All this occurred within an overall framework of stability
to be sure, but it was still constant change nonetheless.

To some those two words used together might sound like an oxymoron, which of
course they weren't. They were just a convenient way to describe very real
factors in Harry Potter's, not to mention everyone else at Hogwarts, life.
Not that Harry would have known what an oxymoron was. He was a bright boy,
but when it came to studying he never really applied himself, relying more
on natural talent and instinct than anything else. However, he wasn't alone
in his ignorance. His best mate, Ron Weasley, probably would have gone for
the obvious joke and said that an oxymoron was a big, stupid git, like Draco
Malfoy's two hulking pals, Crabbe and Goyle, getting a laugh out of Harry
and a roll of the eyes from his other best friend, Hermione Granger. Who most
certainly would know what oxymoron meant and would be delighted to define it
for you complete with examples of usage, synonyms and antonyms, their
definitions and usage, the etymologies for all of them and, if someone hadn't
had the good sense to step in to stop her by this time, a complete list of
all the commonly used oxymora of which she was aware. What Harry and Ron
lacked in scholarly skills was more than made up for in Hermione. She was
easily the best student in their year.

So when Hermione had asked, some two years earlier, if everything was going
to change now that Voldemort had reappeared, it wasn't out of ignorance or
out of any automatic fear of the unknown, but more out of a need to hear it
said out loud. Yes. It will.

Most of it, as change usually is, would be unwelcome. But not all.

For instance, Harry's relationship with his two best friends had changed
since Voldemort's return. It had deepened and matured as they themselves had
matured. Their shared experiences and common interests had strengthened an
already solid bond and formed the foundations for a life-long friendship
against which all other relationships, be they casual or intimate, would be
measured. And found wanting.

It was the three of them against the world.

Even when two of them wanted to kill each other.

Happily, this was not one of those times, though there had been plenty such
over the months. But despite the fact that this was a time of comparative
peace between the three best mates it still found one of them away from the
others and from the relative safety being together provided.

The summer hadn't started out that way. As promised both Hermione and Ron had
accompanied Harry when he went back to his Aunt and Uncle's house, for what
he was sure would be the last time. The Dursleys, never what anyone would
call happy with Harry's return, were even less so when their nephew appeared
on the platform at King's Cross with his friends in tow and informed them
that the pair would be staying with him for some time. In fact, they were so
the opposite of happy, that Harry's Uncle Vernon had immediately started to
make noises about not allowing any of them to stay. Including Harry. By the
time they had arrived at the house on Privet Drive it had gotten so bad that
Ron had to threaten to use magic against them. This did not have the desired
impact at first, and Uncle Vernon, sensing victory at hand, had given the
trio his nastiest smile as he informed them that he knew all about the
restriction that prevented them from using magic when not at school.

That is, until Hermione, with a smile that was as sweet as Uncle Vernon's was
spiteful, pointed out that that rule pertained only to students who had not
yet come of age, like Harry, but not to those who had already turned 17, like
her and Ron. She punctuated this with three quick waves of her wand, each one
causing a tiny explosion just under the buttocks of each of the three
Dursleys. It was not enough to hurt anyone, but it was more than enough to
scare them a little and end any talk of kicking Harry out of the house.
Dudley went up the stairs to his bedroom with both hands clutching his
backside, screaming "Oh no! Not again!", and wasn't seen for the remainder of
their stay in Little Whinging, and, as if that wasn't ample reason to already
mark this as the best holiday Harry had ever had with his relatives, Uncle
Vernon and Aunt Petunia also made themselves scarce, leaving the three
friends to their own devices come mealtimes. Most other times also. When they
weren't eating the trio stayed up in Harry's bedroom or wandered around
Surrey, taking in what few sights there were to see and avoiding the Muggle
residents as best they could, especially Dudley's pugnacious crowd.

This lasted only a week and a half before Ron got word from his father that
the family was starting the preparations for Bill's wedding and they wanted
him to come home to help. It was clear that he could invite Harry and
Hermione to accompany him, Mr. Weasley knew better than to try to separate
the best friends after all that had happened to them, but Harry was anxious
to restart his research into Horcruxes in the hopes of finding the remaining
three or four that Voldemort had hidden away and Hermione refused to leave
him alone when things were so dangerous for him. This caused Ron to protest
that he too could not leave his best mate at such a critical time but Harry
persuaded the taller boy that his efforts would be better spent questioning
Charlie about his work in Romania and looking for anything that might shed
some light on the time Voldemort spent lurking in the forests of Albania. It
was a long shot, but then that's all they had at that moment, long shots.
For his part Harry thought Hermione could just as easily go with Ron, as he
was only going to go back to Hogwarts to pore over the books in the library
one more time before joining the Weasleys at the Burrow for the wedding, but
he could not deny that he would be happier with his mate there than without
her, and besides, she was much better at this kind of research than he was.
With that decided they prepared to leave the Dursleys' the next day. Ron for
the Burrow in the morning and Harry and Hermione for Hogwarts just after
sunset.

Taking his leave of his usually horrid relatives was not as easy as Harry
had always imagined it to be, for him or for them. His normally gruff uncle
seemed torn between glee at being rid of this unwanted burden at last and
real sorrow for his nephew's departure after so many years, and after hemming
and hawing for a few minutes could not find anything even mildly unpleasant
to say.

"Well. Well. I suppose this is it then. Well."

Even Dudley was affected by the occasion, as he simply raised a hand, the
other carefully tucked behind him, attempting to protect his rather oversized
bum, and said "Cheers Harry."

Harry was so thrown by the lack of hostility from his normally belligerent
cousin that he could only answer in kind, "Cheers Dudley."

But it was the tears and hugs from Harry's Aunt Petunia that really threw
him off balance, the woman wailing and hanging on to him as he tried to
leave until her husband stepped forward to pry her off and lead her into
the kitchen.

Completely at a loss to explain what he had just experienced Harry couldn't
even wait until he was out the door before he turned to Hermione and demanded
"What was that all about?"

Hermione was almost as shocked by the unexpected display as Harry was, but
not so much that she was unable to offer at least some interpretation of the
events, however unlikely it might seem, "Perhaps." She paused here as if even
she didn't really believe what she was about to say "in their own way, after
all your mother was your aunt's sister Harry, perhaps they really did...
after a fashion... love you."

Loved me! Loved Me! Harry scoffed at the notion and made a derisive sound.
He had some very serious doubts about his friend's take on the Dursleys'
behavior, particularly in light of his treatment at their hands during the
16 years he had spent living with them. But after considering her words and
replaying the scene over in his head he couldn't come up with any better
justification for their actions and he was forced to conclude that she might
be right. Almost anyone else and Harry would have dismissed them out of hand,
while tossing in a few well chosen words about their sanity to boot, but
Hermione had this sometimes annoying tendency to always be right, and aside
from Dumbledore there was no one in the world he had ever trusted more, so
he accepted, with reservations, her explanation. But not without comment.

"Well they sure had a funny way of showing it all these years."

The brown haired girl just nodded and said "People often do."

By this time the pair had reached the beginnings of a shallow wooded area
just outside the village. They had waited until dusk to take their leave of
Little Whinging, and with the trees providing additional cover they were now
ready to Apparate. Harry was still not licensed to do this by himself, and
wouldn't be until after he turned 17, so he had to hang on to Hermione as she
led the way. But unlike the time with Dumbledore a few weeks earlier, Harry
did not just hold on to Hermione's arm while she guided them to their
destination. This time he and his friend faced each other with their arms
wrapped around each other in a not so loose hug. Harry knew it was
unnecessary, and from the raised eyebrow she cast his way so did Hermione,
but he just shrugged and gave her a cheeky grin while tightening his grip.
This got him a small giggle in return and with that they started to turn in
a circle and disappeared from the woods outside of Little Whinging.

When they reappeared in Hogsmeade seconds later they remained with their
arms clasped about each other for a few moments, then, as if by some unspoken
signal, they both let go at the same time and started walking towards the
school. When they entered the main door they turned toward Gryffindor Tower,
arriving at the portrait of the Fat Lady and passing through on into the
common room. Harry started to move on to the stairs that led up to the boys
dormitory and was turning to tell Hermione that he'd meet up with her shortly
in the Great Hall for dinner when he saw that she was still right behind him.

"Oi. Where do you think you're going?"

"I should think that would be obvious. I'm going upstairs with you."

"To the boys dormitory? Yeah, right!"

"And why not? Harry, we're the only two students in the school for goodness
sake. Why shouldn't we stay in the same dormitory? Please don't tell me it's
because I'm a girl or some other horribly outdated notion. We just spent the
last week and a half sharing a bedroom didn't we? And you seem to have
survived that with your virtue still intact. So what makes this different?"

Harry had opened his mouth to answer Hermione after her first three words but
as the bushy haired girl went on his mouth was slowly closing until, with her
last question hanging in the air, it snapped shut with a small click. He had
in fact been ready to tell her it was precisely because she was a girl, but,
as she had reminded him, they had shared his bedroom during their stay at the
Dursleys, and there really was nothing different about sharing a room at
Hogwarts.

Then why did it feel so different?

Having no answer to that question, or to any of Hermione's, Harry wisely kept
his mouth shut and instead waved his friend up the stairs with a flourish and
a small bow. With a quiet "Hmpphh" and her nose in the air, Hermione sashayed
as she moved to precede Harry up the stairwell, getting no more than two
steps passed him before he roared in mock outrage and started to chase her
all the way up to the top level where he and Ron and the others usually
slept, the two of them laughing raucously the whole way and setting a playful
undertone for what otherwise could have been an exceedingly dull and
stressful time.

* * *

And so it was that a week later Harry and Hermione could be found back in
his, or rather their, dormitory, looking out the window at the night sky,
each momentarily lost in their own thoughts. They had spent most of that
day like all the others since their return, cooped up in the library,
searching through every musty old book they could lay their hands on,
restricted or not, looking for any scrap of information they could find
about Horcruxes. The hunt had not turned up anything more on the actual
devices, but they had found what might possibly be a potential lead to the
location of one more of Voldemort's stash, and this had put Harry in the
best mood he had been in for some weeks. Good enough that he had agreed to
Hermione's request to take the night off. Under other circumstances the
studious girl's idea of a night off would probably have included some
advance reading of their course work for the upcoming year, but after
spending the whole day in the library, and given the likelihood they would
not even be at Hogwarts come the start of the school term, if there even
was a next term, she had asked for nothing more taxing than a quiet dinner
shared in the common room, capped off by some simple star-gazing. If it had
been a mere three months earlier they might have been found doing the same
thing up in the owlery - the star-gazing that is, not the dinner part.
Eating in the owlery would be problematic at best. Owls are not exactly
known for being the cleanest of the avian breeds - but they would have been
standing side by side, each by their own window perhaps or maybe sharing the
same window with their shoulders occasionally brushing together. But recent
events had left them a little shaken, and this changed somewhat the way they
related to each other, so that now instead of keeping some distance between
themselves, no matter how little, they willingly sought to increase their
physical contact, each taking some small comfort from the other's touch.

On this particular night Harry stood behind Hermione, his arms wrapped around
her waist and her hands clasped over his as she leaned back into his chest.
Every so often Harry would press his lips against the brown haired girl's
head, a simple sign of affection that would have been almost unthinkable not
that long ago. They stood without talking for the most part, satisfied to
watch the stars in silence and simply enjoy the other's presence, broken only
by the tiny sighs of contentment issuing from Hermione whenever she felt
Harry's lips brush against her, or the not so tiny giggles when he grew
momentarily bolder and started to nuzzle the side of her neck, tickling her
in the process. It was during one such moment that Hermione broke the pattern
by lifting a hand and pointing out the window in some excitement.

"Harry look! The moon is rising!"

His head bent over his task Harry could not actually see the top of the
moon as it started its ascent over the trees behind Hagrid's hut, but then
Hermione couldn't see that he couldn't see. In any event it did not seem to
really matter to her as she continued without waiting for any response from
her friend.

"You know what that means, don't you?"

The moon's rising meant something? Other than the usual that is. Oh that
can't be good. In Harry's experience any time a celestial event had meaning
beyond the usual planets circle the sun as satellites circle the planets kind
of thing it was always bad news. And Harry didn't think he could take any
more bad news. He'd had enough for two lifetimes thank you very much.

"No. What? It's bad isn't it?!? I don't think I want to know if it's
something bad."

Hermione turned in Harry's arms and placed her hands around his neck, "It
means it's past midnight Harry."

A blank look was her only answer. That didn't sound like it was bad. Harry
looked up to the moon and then back down to his companion. So it was after
midnight. So what. What was so special about midnight?

Fighting the exasperation she was feeling, Hermione spelled it out for him,
"That means it's now officially your birthday. Happy Birthday Harry."

My birthday??? Oh yeah. Almost forgot about that.

With that the shorter girl pulled Harry down to her for a kiss as she stood
up on her tiptoes. Another thing that had changed over the years, Harry now
stood a good deal taller than his female friend.

A smile came to Harry's face as he felt Hermione pulling on his neck. He had
spent so many years having his birthday ignored at best, or treated as an
annoyance at worst, that a kiss, and one from as pretty a girl as Hermione,
was a major event. He bent down to meet his friend as she pressed her lips
to his.

Harry expected the kiss to be brief and after a very short time he started to
pull back but Hermione tightened her hold around his neck and kept her lips
locked with his. This was unanticipated but not at all unwelcome and Harry
fell back into the kiss eagerly only to have his eyes spring open in surprise
when Hermione's mouth parted slightly and he felt her tongue begin an
exploration of his lips. Having only limited experience in such matters he
decided to let his friend take charge and control the pace of the snogging.
Harry didn't really know if Hermione was more practiced at kissing than he
was, but since she had started them down this path he felt it was probably
best to continue to follow her lead. Besides, he reasoned, she's a girl and
everyone knows girls know much more about the art of kissing than boys do.
He opened his lips and let Hermione's tongue enter his mouth.

After only a couple of minutes like this, each second of which felt to
Harry as if it were an eternity, a grand, glorious, wish-it-would-never-end,
eternity, the just turned 17-year old experienced another surprising
development when Hermione's hands unclasped from behind his neck and he felt
an arm resettle around his waist as she pulled him tighter to her. Taking
this as a sign that he was free to do the same he moved his hands from
Hermione's hips and wrapped his left arm around her waist while his right
arm crossed over her back and his hand landed near the brown eyed girl's
shoulder blade. They clung to each other tightly as they continued to neck,
the heat and the passion growing, not to mention the odd body part or three,
with every passing moment.

Now time played a dirty trick on Harry, taking things in the opposite
direction, and after what felt to him like only another two or three minutes
Hermione at last broke away and took a half-step backwards, staying within
the clasp of his arms but distant enough that he knew they were done kissing
for the moment.

Hermione looked up into Harry's eyes and the smile on her face broadened when
she saw the crooked grin on his own lips. She started to giggle then quickly
brought one hand to her mouth to stifle them before she devolved into a very
un-Hermioneesque full blown fit. Now was not the time to let a case of nerves
get the better of her. And Harry might not understand and feel the laughter
was at his expense and that would ruin everything.

Once she had gotten herself under control she lowered her hand and said "Wow.
That was."

"BloodyBrilliant!" The syllables poured out of Harry so quickly it was almost
as if he were speaking a single word.

"... intense. But I agree, BloodyBrilliant also sums it up quite neatly.
You're really quite a good kisser."

She paused briefly to smile back up at Harry as he soaked in her words. "Come
Harry, let's go to bed."

What?!? Go to bed? Now!?! Going to bed was the very last thing Harry wanted
to do at that moment. He was excited in almost every way imaginable and he
had really been hoping that they would continue snogging or at the very least
that they could spend some more time watching the moon as it slid across the
night sky. A boy turns 17 only once and this was already the best birthday
Harry had ever had, he didn't want to waste a moment of it on sleep. There
would be time enough for that when he was old and. Well there'd be plenty of
other opportunities for sleep, of that Harry was certain. He started to
protest, turning to the window to remind Hermione how lovely the moon looked
that evening, when he stopped, amazed to see that the moon was now more than
two handspans above the trees. What the...? Had they really been kissing for
over half an hour?

Harry's heart skipped a beat at the mere thought. This was something that
he had been dreaming of since seeing Hermione enter the Great Hall at the
Yuletide dance more than two years earlier. Something he had secretly
desired, but never dared act upon, for fear of damaging his friendship with
the bushy haired girl. Not to mention Ron. Bloody Hell! Ron! How was he
going to tell Ron he and Hermione had spent the better part of an hour
snogging on his birthday?

A tug on his hand derailed that particular train of thought and Harry looked
away from the window back to Hermione's smiling countenance, "Come on Harry.
Please?"

It was the please that did it of course. It wasn't that Harry couldn't
turn Hermione down when she asked him to do something, he'd said no to her
countless hundreds of times he was sure, it was the idea of turning down
something so simple. It was obvious to him that they were done kissing for
the night, and for some reason it was important to Hermione that he go to
bed when she did, so he let her lead him away from the window by his hand
to the space in between his bed and the one she had appropriated for her
own use since their return to Hogwarts.

Still, Harry had a bit of a stubborn streak and he could not go without at
least a token attempt at resistance, "I don't know Hermione. I don't think
I'm ready to go to sleep just yet. Why don't you go and I'll just stay awake
a while longer."

Coming to a halt by his bed Hermione placed a hand on Harry's chest and
said "I never said anything about going to sleep Harry. Now take off your
trainers." before pushing him to a seated position on the mattress. The fact
that she had pushed him down onto the bed that she had been using and not his
own did nothing to clear up the confusion that Harry suddenly found himself
awash in.

Take off my trainers?!? Oh this is just too much! Even for Hermione this
was just a bit too bossy! First she demands that they go to bed, then she
commandeers his own bed, and to top it all off she's even telling him how
to undress!! Too much!!

Hang about!. Hermione said she wasn't talking about going to sleep just yet.
If they weren't going to go to sleep then what.

Harry's eyes went wide with excitement as he followed that thought through
to what he felt was its obvious conclusion. So they weren't done with the
necking for the night after all. He was certain of it. He was certain, but
he was also quite wrong. Or at least he wasn't precisely right. There would
be more kissing, oh yes, but that wasn't what Hermione was talking about
when she said she wasn't intending to go to sleep just then. In future days,
whenever he happened to look back on that particular memory, Harry could not
think of a time when he was happier to have been so mistaken.

He looked up at Hermione for the first time since his posterior had hit the
mattress of the bed opposite his, a huge smile on his face that quickly
disappeared when he saw the look of uncertainty on his friend's. Harry
recognized the look, having seen it on the pretty girl's countenance every
time she was about to start some major undertaking. Like finals, or last year
when they took their OWL's. Or discussing Quidditch. But he had never seen
her so nervous that she was chewing on her nails.

"Oi. Hermione. Look if you'd rather not snog anymore we don't have." he
trailed off as she waved her hand in front of her, brushing aside his
concerns. Just when he was about to ask what was bothering her if she
wasn't worried about continuing their kissing session Hermione cut him off.

"Harry." she paused, her mouth closing briefly then opening as she started
again, "Harry, have you ever." Another stop and then another start, "Did you
ever. I mean would you like to." She stopped again and this time Harry could
see she was becoming frustrated as she looked off to her right and a moment
later she stamped a foot and speaking sotto voce said "Oh do get on with it!"

Hermione's disjointed speech did nothing to clear things up for Harry,
instead making him even more bewildered than he already was, and once again
he moved to speak only to be interrupted by his friend. But this time it
wasn't anything she said, it was something she did. Huffing her breath out
as if steeling herself for what was to come, the young witch's hands moved
suddenly to the bottom of her t-shirt and with one quick motion she peeled
it off and dropped it to the floor between the beds, leaving her standing
there, nude from the waist up. Harry's eyes went to Hermione's naked breasts
and stayed there for several long minutes. His mouth was working but no words
came out and after a time Hermione realized that taking this momentous first
step would not be enough, she was going to have to make the next move as
well, as Harry's brain had apparently ceased to function. Sighing quietly,
she reached down and took Harry's right hand and placed it so that it covered
her left breast. His eyes closed and he let out a soft groan of pleasure as
he felt the intimate flesh of a woman against his palm for the very first
time. Again some time passed with no further response from Harry and Hermione
was beginning to wonder if she was going to have to do all the work when she
finally felt his hand close and reopen, squeezing her flesh slowly and
causing her already erect nipple to stiffen even more. Hermione's own eyes
closed and her head fell back slightly as she absorbed the pleasant
sensations, a small gasp of surprise escaping her some moments later when she
felt Harry's lips close over her right nipple. Thank goodness! Maybe there
was some hope for the boy after all. When she opened her eyes and brought her
head forward she was charmed to see a look of absolute delight on Harry's
face. The part of it that was visible anyway. Sensing that she was gazing at
him Harry glanced up, embarrassment quickly replacing the look of joy as he
started to move away from her chest. Hermione stopped him, bringing her hand
up to cover the back of his head and pressing it back against her skin. Now
Harry was gently kneading the one breast while sucking and licking the other
and after a couple of quick glances to ensure that she was still okay with
this he settled into his task.

Skin. Soft, warm, creamy smooth skin. Harry felt like he was drowning in it.
In a good way. Both hands were full of it and his lips and tongue. well Harry
knew for a fact that he'd never done anything with his mouth before that he'd
liked as much as what he was doing at that moment in time. His right hand was
still gently fondling Hermione's breast, squeezing the flesh and rubbing the
upright nipple repeatedly as he tried to memorize the contours using only his
fingers and palm. And his left hand was doing its best to keep up, roaming
over Hermione's naked back and sending pleasing sensations to both their
brains. The mere fact that Harry was even aware that he had a left hand, let
alone that it was gently stroking Hermione's bare flesh, was a testament to
just how soft and smooth the young woman's skin really was. But as wonderful
as the stimulation coming to him through his appendages was, it paled in
comparison to the exhilaration he was getting every time he licked and sucked
Hermione's nipple, and after a time his hands stopped their roaming and
squeezing and he focused all his attention and energy on the brown haired
girl's chest.

With his hand no longer massaging Hermione's breast that created an
opportunity for Harry to switch his attentions, abandoning the thoroughly
sucked and teased right nipple for the left one. An opportunity Harry could
not pass on. It wasn't because licking Hermione's left nipple would be
fundamentally different than suckling the right one, at least Harry didn't
think it would be, he wouldn't really know though until he tried, but more
because of the unwritten code of all teenage boys experiencing their first
sexual encounter - keep pushing for more until someone tells you to stop.

Not that Hermione minded the sudden switch. On the contrary. Harry had shown
himself to be more than a little capable with his mouth and she was quite
happy to let him continue to demonstrate his skills on her now unoccupied
left breast. But she couldn't let him linger too long. Hermione had something
else in mind for the two of them and while their current activity was
pleasant, very, very pleasant, it was not the main event and she didn't want
to delay that much longer lest she lose what little nerve she had. So after
a few short minutes, far too short in Harry's estimation, she pushed his head
back, unlatching him from her chest, and caught his eye.

"Now will you take off your trainers?"

Harry had the good grace to look a little sheepish as he was reminded of his
earlier reluctance to obey his friend's request but the speed with which he
responded this time showed that he was past all that and was now fully
committed to whatever course of action Hermione laid out for them. The brown
eyed girl had barely finished speaking when Harry's footwear was already
hitting the floor, bouncing haphazardly before settling in the general
vicinity of her discarded t-shirt.

"Good. Now the rest of your clothing as well please."

It would not have seemed possible for Harry's eyes to go any wider or his
eyebrows to climb any higher after hearing Hermione tell him to remove the
remainder of his kit but that's exactly what they did when he saw her hands
go to the button on the waistband of her jeans. It wasn't until she started
to shimmy the denim down her legs that he recovered enough to start his own
disrobing.

When her jeans were in a puddle around her ankles Hermione stepped out of
them and gently nudged them over to the growing pile of garments between the
two beds. She then paused for an instant to take stock. It wasn't that she
was having any doubts about what she, or rather they, were about to do, the
time for reservations was in the past, but when it comes to losing one's
virginity there are no second chances and Hermione wanted to take these last
moments to make sure she had planned for everything. It was fortunate for
Harry that she did so because he was struggling to get his shirt over his
head and if she had not stopped for a few seconds reflection he probably
would have missed the sight of Hermione easing her knickers over her hips and
pushing them to the floor and that was something the young man would have
regretted for the rest of his life. But as luck would have it his shirt
cleared his head and dropped to the floor just as she hooked her thumbs into
the elastic and moments later another article of clothing was added to the
heap. Hermione now stood there fully nude while Harry sat on the bed trying,
and failing, not to gawk. He knew that he was permitted to look, this had all
been Hermione's choice after all, and she wasn't doing anything to try to
prevent his staring, in fact the only thing she had been tempted to cover
with her hands was her face as a wave of embarrassment briefly took her, but
that did not mean he had to gape at her like a complete clod. Harry wanted to
believe that he was better than that. Which, of course, he was. It was just
that he had never ever seen anything so beautiful in his life before, and
that, plus the fact that this was after all the first time he was seeing a
naked woman in the flesh, made it more than a little difficult not to stare.

"Oh, Hermione. Ron was right. You are a girl!" Harry's voice came out softer
than normal and while the words made it seem otherwise, there wasn't even a
hint of teasing in it.

Smiling, partly because of the obvious appreciation and desire she could hear
in Harry's voice and partly because of his deliberate use of the words Ron
had so indelicately uttered when asking her to the Yule Ball a couple of
years earlier, Hermione responded by repeating her answer to the red haired
boy, but minus the scorn and plus a few soft giggles, "Well spotted."

But where Ron took his female friend for granted and frequently treated her
as one of the boys, Harry knew better, "And you're beautiful."

Simple, yet honest, the words caught Hermione completely off guard and her
breath left her in a rush as her eyes began to well up with tears. She had
started planning for this night months earlier, around the time of her own
17th birthday, and while she could not see in herself the physical beauty
that others saw, she had been reasonably sure that Harry at least found her
acceptably attractive and would welcome her advances. Still, there was always
some room for doubt. Hermione may not have been as lacking in self-confidence
as she had been when she first arrived at Hogwarts, but what gains she had
made had been in the more scholarly and social venues. When it came to
relations between the sexes, this young woman was as full of uncertainty as
any other teenager. Harry's words went a long way to removing any fears she
had of outright rejection, unfounded though they might be, and instead made
her believe she had been right all along, he did want her. And she wanted
him.

But there was still one last obstacle remaining.

Well, two if you counted Harry's trousers.

Fortunately, Harry seemed to be on the same page as his friend, and when he
spoke again it was to address the issue of his best mate, "Hermione... about
Ron."

Wiping the unshed tears from her eyes with the back of a hand, Hermione
stopped Harry before he could do something selfless and noble and ruin the
entire evening, "Yes. Ron. Good that you brought that up Harry. You see, I've
been thinking about this." that got a smile from Harry. Of course. This was
Hermione after all. Of course she'd thought about it. Probably had a plan for
it and everything. "... and the fact is, Ron's just not ready for this. He's
too immature. And I am ready. And I think. no, I know. you are too Harry."
Another smile and this time Harry glanced down to his lap and to the almost
painful by now erection that lay hidden under his jeans. Ready? Any readier
and it would already be over.

Of course that wasn't exactly what Hermione had meant by being ready and
Harry knew it. So he turned his focus inward for a second, keeping half an
ear on Hermione in case she said something that required a response from him,
and when he thought about it he realized, she was right. He was ready for
this. And not just in the teenage-boys-are-always-ready-for-sex kind of way
either. But in every way. Physically, mentally and emotionally, Harry was
ready. The timing could not get any better. It was his birthday. He was now
of age in the eyes of the Wizarding community, and who knew what his future
held for him. The only thing he could be certain of was that he was going to
have to face off against Voldemort at least one more time. After that... well
who knew if there would even be an after that for him. This might be not just
his best chance but his only one. How do you turn something like that down?
And Hermione was right about one other thing as well. Ron wasn't ready. It
might seem like a rationalization, but it wasn't, it was reality. And it
appeared that it was just that simple for the brown haired girl. She
obviously intended to take this step with one or the other of them, and if
Ron was out of the running, leaving Harry as the only choice, could he be
expected to pass on such an amazing opportunity? Would Ron expect him to make
that sacrifice? What if the shoe was on the other foot, and it was Harry that
was found to be wanting. Would he expect Ron to turn down their female best
friend? Would that be fair to either of them, that Harry should make them
wait until such time as he became "ready"? Would it?

No.

Harry got the exact same answer for each of the questions he had put to
himself. No, no, no and no. Four questions, four answers, each correct
response clearing the way for him to do this thing he so desperately wanted
to do. Make love to Hermione.

There it was. They were really going to do this. Harry still suffered a
few small twinges of guilt when he thought about how this was going to
affect Ron, but he was convinced that his best mate would come around
and see it the way he and Hermione did. In time. Two, three decades at
the most. Certainly some time before the end of the next century. Maybe.
Perhaps it would be wise to consider getting the red haired boy a gift
to sort of smooth things over. Something like a
hope-there-are-no-hard-feelings-for-sleeping-with-our-friend-before-you-did
gift. Maybe a large jar of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans and some Cauldron
Cakes? Not even close. What about a pennant and t-shirt from Ron's favorite
professional Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons? No. That wouldn't do at
all. That was thinking too small. They were talking about a major life event
and for something this significant Harry would have to think huge. Like a...
no... Or a... no, not that either. How about... no... Then he had it. Harry
would get Ron a new broomstick. And not just any broomstick. A Firebolt. Ron
had always been a little envious of Harry's Firebolt, so if he gave the
taller boy one of his own by way of an apology, and a newer model at that.
Yeah. That ought to do it.

The question of whether he was ready put to rest, and the subject of what to
do about Ron somewhat settled, Harry now returned his full attention to
Hermione. While he'd been contemplating her earlier words and coming up with
his own solution the young witch had continued to tackle the problem of their
mutual best friend and was just now beginning to lay out the details of her
plan (he knew she'd have one) to deal with any repercussions from what they
were about to do. Harry didn't tell her that he'd already resolved that,
because a) that would only make her annoyed, and b) in situations like this,
Hermione's plans were almost always superior to his. And this time would be
no exception. The gist of her plan was that Hermione would, assuming Ron
eventually grew up enough for her to deem him "ready", sleep with the red
haired boy, and that Harry, in order to keep things fair, would be permitted
to take a second lover of his own. There were a whole lot of "first"'s and
"second"'s being bandied about, he and Hermione would be each other's
"first", while Ron would be her "second", and a part of Harry was mildly
amused at how clinical the brown haired girl was being about the whole thing.
Not to mention assumptive. But that was all just part of what made Hermione
Hermione and Harry loved her for it, so he glossed over the touch of
bossiness, he'd be "permitted" would he, and focused instead on the love and
concern for her friends that drove her to be that way. But while he did not
object in any way to Hermione and Ron eventually getting together, he really
felt no need to contemplate his own sex life beyond the immediate future.
Today he was going to be with Hermione and that was all that mattered.
Everything else could happen, or not, in its own time at its own pace. It was
with this thought in mind that he answered the bushy haired girl when she was
finally done explaining her plan and asked for his input.

"So Harry, tell me what you think."

"I think I don't need anybody else. You're the only one I fancy. You and Ron,
well that's proper. He does love you, he just hasn't figured out how to show
it, has he. But me. well you're all I need."

Again Hermione found herself robbed of breath by a few simple words from her
soon-to-be-first sexual partner. This was starting to become a habit. But she
recovered a lot quicker this time and without going all misty-eyed. At least
not right at that moment. Besides, Harry hadn't heard who she had in mind for
his second. Let him hear that and see if he still felt the same way.

"But Harry, you haven't heard who it is yet."

"Doesn't matter. I don't."

"... I was thinking it should be Ginny. You're rather fond of her. Of course
it will have to wait until she comes of age."

"... need anybod..." At the mention of Ron's sister and his former girlfriend
Harry paused for only the briefest of seconds, only to continue with that
cheeky grin of his that Hermione loved so well, ".... Oh. Well alright then."

The sudden change of heart left the young witch nonplussed. Hermione stood
there for a short time with her arms folded under her breasts and her mouth
twisted to one side while she considered how she should respond. The fact
that she was doing this while completely naked didn't seem to bother her a
bit, nor did Harry's renewed interest in her chest. On the one hand she
should be glad that Harry had so readily accepted her plans for their future
lovers. But on the other hand. did he have to be so easy? Couldn't he have at
least pretended to think about it for a minute and then said okay? Sigh.
Boys! After a few moments indulging this small bout of grumpiness, Hermione
decided she would rather be happy with Harry's rush to acceptance than
annoyed. After all, this was a small part of her plan. To give Harry memories
to be cherished while also giving him things to look forward to. Yes,
Hermione had all the normal reasons for wanting to do this and for wanting to
do it with Harry. She was ready to take this step, she loved him and he loved
her and they fancied each other, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. But Hermione
also had another, smaller, but no less important, motive. She wanted to give
Harry reasons to live. Reasons to prevail over Voldemort without going so far
as to sacrifice his own life. And she was hoping that his time with her, plus
the promise of future encounters, would be a start.

Speaking of which.

"Well then. I suppose that's settled. We should get started."

The cheeky grin Harry had been wearing earlier was now replaced by a huge
smile as the moment he'd been waiting for finally arrived. But when Hermione
made no further move the smile faded a bit only to be followed by puzzlement.
What were they waiting for?

"Harry."

"Yes?"

"You have to take off your pants."

Once again Harry cast a sheepish grin towards his friend as he stood and
swiftly removed both his jeans and underwear in one pass, completing the
mound of clothing on the floor. While he was doing this Hermione took the
opportunity to lie down on his bed, striking what she hoped would be an
alluring pose without appearing trashy. She must have succeeded, because
when Harry finished undressing and looked down at her it was his turn to
have his breath taken away.

"So beautiful."

It came out as a whisper, as Harry's eyes traveled up Hermione's body from
her feet to her head, pausing at the parts that were still so new to his
experience. The creamy smooth thighs. The flare of the hips. The taut
abdomen. The swell of the breasts. The curve of the shoulders. Each of these
areas offered something to tantalize him, to increase his arousal, and he
spent long moments lingering over them. But it was the patch of curly fur,
naturally neat and trim, between Hermione's legs that commanded most of his
attention, and Harry's eyes returned there again and again, causing the brown
eyed girl to flush deeply when she realized exactly where his gaze was fixed
when he repeated his comment.

"So, so beautiful."

For many women, especially anyone who was just about to have their first
sexual experience, the natural reaction would have been to cover up, to
minimize the amount of flesh they had on display, particularly that part of
the body nearly all considered to be their most intimate. But not Hermione.
She felt some awkwardness of course, this was all very new to her. No one
had ever looked at her the way Harry was looking, and the intensity of his
stare was a bit discomfiting to someone unused to being ogled so openly. But
feeling his gaze on her, seeing the naked desire in his eyes, hearing the
catch in his breathing and watching his arousal manifest itself in his still
growing erection, and to know that it was all because of her, that she had
caused these reactions in him - that knowledge filled Hermione with a feeling
of potency. She was a sexual being and she was desirable. She could see it
written all over Harry.

She allowed her legs to fall apart just the tiniest bit.

Harry felt his erection literally twitch at the sight and then it started to
throb in time with his rapidly pounding heart. His mouth went dry and he took
a half step towards the bed before coming to an abrupt stop. Not yet. His
entire body was screaming at him to join Hermione on the bed but something
told him to wait. Wait just a few seconds. Wait for the final signal from
Hermione that she was ready. Harry had no idea what that signal would be, but
he figured he would know it when it came.

Yet again Harry's instincts served him well. He probably could have just
climbed onto the bed with Hermione and she would not have complained, but by
hesitating he gave the brown haired girl the final moments she needed to
prepare herself, to get past the last second anxiety that had come upon her
so unexpectedly, but with very good reason.

You see, Harry wasn't the only one who had spent the last few minutes gawking
at his companion, Hermione had also done her fair share. It's just that she
had been far more subtle about it and the few times Harry had managed to tear
his eyes away from Hermione's privates to look at her face she had been able
to meet his gaze, giving him the impression that she was doing nothing more
than watching him watch her. Bollocks. Nothing could have been further from
the truth.

For almost the entire time that Harry had been scrutinizing Hermione's body,
she had been visually surveying his. And, just like Harry, she'd spent most
of her time looking at the parts of his anatomy that were normally hidden
from her. His thighs. His stomach. His chest. His shoulders. But, since she
really was in all actuality a girl, she'd also spent some time looking at
other parts that she found attractive, parts that, had he known they were
under examination, Harry would have considered just plain weird. Like his
arms and his hands. Oh yes, and his penis.

Especially that. Because, again just like Harry, Hermione was getting her
first view of the opposite sex's, well, sex. And while Hermione had done as
much reading about foreplay and the act of sexual intercourse as she could
squeeze in in the past few months, which wasn't a whole lot to be honest, it
hadn't prepared her for seeing an erect member in the flesh. And to her
virgin eyes there was so very much flesh. Not that she really had anything
to compare it to. Of the many differences between the children and young
adults at a school like Hogwarts, and those in the Muggle community, one was
of paramount importance at a time like this. The students at Hogwarts led
very sheltered lives. Even those that came from Muggle parents, the so-called
Mudbloods, were protected from all sorts of things their non-magical
counterparts were exposed to from a very early age. None of the young wizards
and witches realized it of course, but it was true. And it was also by
intention. And while it helped them remain a touch more innocent for at least
a little while longer, it did have a tendency to leave them open to certain
surprises their more worldly peers were better prepared for. Like seeing a
fully erect penis twitch.

To Hermione, it was almost like Harry's manhood had taken on a life of its
own and become capable of independent thought and movement. Which wasn't all
that far from reality in fact, as any more experienced woman could have told
her. Even most guys would have acknowledged that by this stage of the process
their unit was making at least 50% of all decisions. Probably more for many
of them. But Hermione didn't know any of that. All she knew was that when she
had parted her legs ever so slightly, and thereby giving Harry his first
glimpse at the real treasure between her thighs and not the cloak that
covered it, she had seen his member. bounce. Once, up and down, like a tree
branch swaying in the breeze only faster. The brown haired girl had no idea
if the movement was a voluntary one, or if it was completely beyond Harry's
control, she just knew that it had taken her by surprise and her eyes went
round for the tiniest fraction of a second in response.

But it was more than just a one-time convulsion of Harry's shaft that had
caused Hermione's momentary lapse of confidence, it was the impression of
size that she got as well. Harry was huge.

Okay, maybe not huge, but he was certainly bigger than Hermione had ever
pictured. And again, it wasn't like the young witch had anything against
which she could compare him. In the one book she had managed to smuggle
into the school with the help of her mother - and wasn't writing that letter
the most mortifying thing she'd ever had to do - there had been only two
illustrations of the male sex organ, one while flaccid and one while erect,
and neither one had been what you could call life sized, taking up less than
a quarter of a page between them. She assumed they were to scale, at least
in relation to the other, limited, body parts that appeared in the drawings,
but without something external to compare to it was impossible to approximate
just how big the erect organ was supposed to be. Hermione found it all
terribly frustrating. If only they had followed the conventions of
paleontologists or geologists and included a hammer or some other object
whose size was known in the picture, then she'd have some point of reference
to guide her in her estimation. But they didn't, and Hermione had been left
to imagine what the real thing would look like without the help of her
beloved books. It was one of the few times in Hermione's life when both she
and her books would come up short. Harry, on the other hand, most certainly
did not, and Hermione needed a few moments to reconcile her imagination with
the reality practically staring her in the face.

While Hermione mentally adjusted to Harry's size, any physical adjustments to
be made were still in the future, the birthday boy stood waiting quietly. It
wasn't a long delay, the whole transition from wide-eyed shock to acceptance
took only a handful or so of seconds, and it wasn't like there wasn't more
than enough to keep him entertained while he stood there. Just conducting a
visual examination of that portion of Hermione's sex that had been made
visible to him would have been enough to keep him happy for a much, much
longer time. And the thought that he would soon be touching her, touching
that delicate and immaculate skin, immersing himself in her. Harry's manhood
jerked again.

This time when Hermione's eyes widened they were accompanied by a smile and
when she looked up at Harry he saw something in her eyes that he had never
seen there before - hunger. For him. If there had been any lingering doubts -
there weren't, but even if there had been - concerning what he and Hermione
were about to do, they would have been completely dispelled by that one look.
This was something they had both wanted, both desired, for far longer than
either of them realized. And it was finally going to happen.

"Come here Harry."

Ah. The signal.

Three little words. One monumental event.

From that point on Harry operated in something of a fog, his focus so
precisely fixed on the act he was performing that many of the more peripheral
things escaped his notice. At least at a conscious level. For instance, he
never remembered climbing up on the bed and taking his place hovering over
Hermione, his lower body slipping in between her upraised legs. One second he
had been standing alongside his bed and the next he was supporting his upper
body with his left arm while he tried to work the head of his penis into the
brown haired girl's opening. And that was another thing he could never
recall, the three or more fumbled attempts to penetrate Hermione that first
time. It wasn't until she closed her hand around his shaft and guided him
lower on her body that he was finally able to slide inside her, burying his
member to the hilt in one long stroke. And he never really remembered
finishing. Oh not finishing as in having the orgasm finishing - that he would
remember with crystal clarity for the remainder of his life - but the pulling
out and lying on your back finishing. Harry had no idea how he ended up in
that position and couldn't have even guessed how long he lay that way. He
didn't know if it was one minute of sex followed by fourteen minutes of
cuddling or vice versa. And Hermione didn't seem to know the answer either,
or if she did she wasn't telling.

What he did notice were some of the little, but vitally important, things.
Like the way Hermione moaned in pleasure when he ultimately did enter her for
the first time. Or the way her hands grasped at him, caressing his hair or
clutching at his back as he moved in and out. And the way her legs wrapped
around him, her calves crossing over the backs of his thighs whenever she
sought to pull him deeper inside her. And finally, the way her hips seemed to
instinctively drive upwards as he plunged downwards. Not much, but just
enough to maximize the pleasure for both of them on every stroke.

He also noticed the big things. Things like how very very tight Hermione was,
especially when they were just beginning. She did loosen up a tiny bit, as
the muscles in her vagina grudgingly adjusted to accommodate his presence,
but that he didn't really take in. By the time that happened Harry was
already barreling down the path to climax and such minute changes had no
impact on him. And as with the impression of constriction when he entered his
new lover, Harry was also aware of the dual sensations of warmth and wetness.
Not having even the little preparation afforded to Hermione by her one book,
Harry hadn't expected either condition, but he assumed, incorrectly as it
would turn out, that this was just the natural state for women down there and
went on about his business. Why it should be this way all the time Harry
couldn't even begin to guess, and the thought that these conditions were
evidence of Hermione's arousal, just like his erection was confirmation of
his own, wouldn't occur to him until some time later.

Additionally, Harry was very cognizant of Hermione softly calling out his
name through most of the proceedings, sometimes just repeating the one word
over and over and other times either preceding it, or following it, with
cries of "yes" and "oh yes". When she wasn't groaning inarticulately that is.
But mostly Harry noticed just how truly amazing it all felt. How wonderful
the waves of pleasure that radiated from his groin made him feel. And how
every stroke, technically each no different than the last, built upon the
delight from the one before, until the sensations completely filled him and
he knew that very soon they would become overwhelming and he would experience
his very first orgasm brought on by another person. He had just enough time
to wonder if Hermione was getting even half as much out of this as he was.

Had Harry been more experienced, he would have realized that all of the
little things that had penetrated the fog he had been under, plus several
more that had not, all added up to a solid yes. Yes, Hermione was getting
almost as much out of their coupling as he. The caresses and clutching, the
gasps and soft moans and calling of his name, the clinging to him with both
arms and legs, the extreme wetness and palpable heat, and the way the thrusts
of her pelvis changed over time, the tempo increasing to keep pace with
Harry's own pistoning hips until they reached a point where she simply could
not keep up any longer. Each of these signaled, to varying degrees, that
Hermione was just as excited and was taking her fair share of the pleasure
from their lovemaking. So much so, that had Harry been able to hold back his
climax only a few minutes, he might have been stunned to see the brown eyed
girl cross the finish line just a few short strokes before him. Assuming of
course that he was in any condition to even notice his new lover right at
that moment. Not surprisingly, Harry's own orgasm was shaping up to be more
than a little powerful and was already beginning to consume most of his
attention.

But Harry was not experienced. So he did not recognize how close Hermione was
to her own culmination. And even if he had, the young wizard had no clue as
to how to deny his gratification for an instant, let alone several minutes.
In all of Harry's solo endeavors the whole object had been to reach orgasm as
swiftly as humanly possible. And as often, though the circumstances of his
living arrangements both at home and at school tended to limit his prospects
in this area more than he would have liked. But on those occasions when he
did have both the time and opportunity to slip off, his only thought had been
to reach climax as quickly, and as quietly, as he could. Delaying
gratification intentionally never even entered his mind. Expecting him to
even attempt to actually do so now, during this, his first time having sex,
and with Hermione no less, well that was just dumb. So when Harry felt the
telltale signals he had come to associate with his impending orgasm, his only
thought was to make it as good, and as memorable, for both of them as
possible. Happily, he would succeed.

In time Harry would come to learn that he was actually a quite talented
lover. And that Hermione was as good, if not better. They would repeat this
first session many times in the future, not as often as they wished perhaps
but far more frequently than they had dared to hope. And they would each
have other lovers. Not many, neither one of them was all that interested in
seeking out new people to bed, but enough for them to realize that they were
both quite skilled, and that they were both at their best with each other.
They couldn't tell this yet, but it was already apparent during their first
union. So while their recollections of the event did tend to gloss over some
minor details and paint this first time as picture perfect, they did not
require a whole lot of polishing. The reality was almost as good as the
memory.

That was all in Harry's future however. In his immediate present he had only
the demands of his body and a fierce desire to reach orgasm as the repeated
thrusting of his hips began to take its toll. His strokes, which had started
out reasonably slow and accelerated over time, were now just about frenzied,
and his mouth was open, moans emanating from him with almost every breath.
He had given up trying to keep his head raised so he could look down at
Hermione and now had his face buried in the pillow next to her ear, close
enough that they could still hear each other's cries of pleasure, but muffled
enough that when Harry did climax he caused no permanent hearing loss to his
lover.

"HERMIONE! OH! I'm. Cor!"

If Harry's head had still been raised above Hermione's the young witch might
have been tempted to laugh at the way her partner's face contorted as his
orgasm arrived. Harry had had orgasms before. And they had usually been
satisfying, or at least satisfying enough considering the circumstances. But
no climax he had ever had while alone could even come close to the intensity
of this culmination with Hermione. The muscles in his lower back and thighs
locked harder than they ever had before and his eyes were squeezed even more
tightly shut than they already had been. His mouth was still open while he
grunted his pleasure incoherently, but with his lips pulled back it looked
more like he was grimacing than voicing any joy. Of course for Hermione to
see any of this that would mean her own eyes would have to be open when Harry
climaxed. As it happened they were not, being almost as tightly screwed shut
as Harry's while she concentrated on her own feelings of delight. However
they did snap wide open when she felt the first spurt of Harry's ejaculation
painting the walls of her vagina, and they stayed that way through the
remainder of his eruption. Hermione had been prepared for a great many
different feelings and sensations this first time with Harry - happiness,
exuberance, sorrow, discomfort, pleasure, warmth, fulfillment, emptiness,
love - but she had never, ever expected to actually feel his semen hitting
her insides. It was a strange feeling at first, warm and tingly in a way, but
soon the tingling passed and was replaced by a feeling of. completeness. This
was right. This was how it should be. Always. Hermione tightened her grip on
Harry, pulling him closer to her and maximizing the contact along the length
of their bodies.

They remained that way for some time, Harry poised over Hermione with his
head still masked by the pillows, while she clutched him to her, basking in
the sensations in the truest sense of the word. They both took the time to
recover, to bring their labored breathing back under control and allow their
wildly beating hearts to slow back down to something approaching normal, and
when they had Harry rolled to his right, ending up flat on his back with his
head resting on his left arm while the other stretched out under Hermione.
The bushy haired girl waited until Harry was settled before curling up on her
side next to him, her head on his right shoulder and her leg crossing over
him, her knee coming to rest between his. More time passed while they lay
quietly, Harry's hand now curling up from under Hermione to lightly stroke
her upper arm with his fingertips while she planted periodic kisses on his
chest and shoulder.

Of course it was only to outward appearances that Harry and Hermione were
lying there quietly. Inwardly, Harry was so excited that he had to fight the
constant urge to jump up on the bed with his fist pumping the air while he
screamed so loudly from the pure delight he was feeling that the entire
castle would hear him. In fact, to say that he was excited was a classic
understatement. Elated, or maybe ecstatic, these were much better choices to
describe Harry's emotional state at that moment. Even saying he was delirious
with joy would not be going too far. Harry had just had sex. His very first
time. With Hermione! Hermione!! He could be forgiven for feeling that this
was cause for at least a little celebration. And he wasn't alone. The object
of his incredulity was fighting her own battle to remain outwardly calm, but
in her case the battle being waged was against another round of the giggles.
This was most unusual for the normally serious young lady. Giggling was
certainly not Hermione's style. She had a sense of humor to be sure, quite a
good one actually, and could enjoy a good joke or a bit of slapstick as much
as anybody, but she usually limited her response to a smile and maybe a roll
of the eyes or a well placed bon mot. But giggling, that was simply not
Hermione. Most of the time.

And they might have actually succeeded. Might have actually been able to
contain themselves long enough for the impulses to pass and they could decide
on other, more dignified ways, to comport themselves at such an important
time. Might have, except. they looked at each other. It is not in the nature
of most people to completely ignore their partner after their first time
making love. This is particularly true when your first time with someone is
your first time, period. There is kissing and cuddling and caressing and,
usually, plenty of looking into one another's eyes. It's kind of a given.
Especially when the eyes in question are as pretty as Hermione's.

So it was inevitable that, in time, they would look at each other, and
when Harry felt the kisses to his torso trail off he looked down, meeting
Hermione's gaze as she lifted her eyes to his, the two of them staring into
each other's eyes, until "Wow!"

"Wow!"

The words came out simultaneously, causing the identical smiles already on
both their faces to grow larger and a gleam to appear in Hermione's eyes at
the happiness she saw in her lover's expression. That was it! That was the
look she had been wishing for! She'd given Harry a reason to be happy, even
if only for a while. And that made Hermione. suddenly, without even realizing
how it started, they were kissing, but this time there was more passion, more
ardor, than there had been during the earlier session by the window. Harry
was a little taken aback by Hermione's unexpected fierceness, but after the
initial shock passed he discovered that he liked it. He liked it when
Hermione took charge as it freed him for a time from the burden of having to
make decisions. Harry had to make decisions all the time, some of them even
of the life or death variety. Being able to sit back and follow someone
else's lead for a change was not without its appeal. Given his current supine
position, the sitting back was more figurative than literal, but Harry still
enjoyed the snogging and was once again content to let Hermione control the
pace and duration. Of course this did not mean Harry was just lying there
like a lump while Hermione did all the work. His right hand, the same hand
that had most recently been stroking his new lover's arm and had earlier done
all the heavy lifting clutching and fondling her breast, now started a new
exploration of the brown eyed girl's body, traveling along her back with
tender caresses, working its way slowly downward, until the soft skin of the
back yielded to the firmer flesh of her rump, stopping only when he was fully
cupping the left side of Hermione's derriere in his palm. He gave her bum a
gentle squeeze.

This was enough to cause Hermione to stop kissing him and pull back a bit,
giving him a look of indignation that Harry knew perfectly well was not real,
just as she knew his look of wide eyed innocence was a sham.

"Of all the cheek!"

"Yeah, I think I got it all. What of it? Did you want me to grab the other
one as well?"

Gone was the innocent look, replaced by the mischievous grin Harry wore so
well. They held that way for several seconds, until they could no longer
contain themselves and then they both burst into laughter, the dam finally
breaking, and all the exuberance and elation they had been holding back
spilled out, filling the dorm room and echoing down the stairs to the common
room and on out through the portrait of the Fat Lady to the hallway beyond.
There was no one else around to hear them, the few other occupants of the
castle being tucked away in bed, but even if there had been neither Harry
nor Hermione would have cared, so caught up as they were in their own
jubilation. The laughter continued for some long minutes, and just when it
looked like it had run its course, Harry gave in to the urge he had been
fighting all along, stopping just short of leaping to his feet on the bed
and settling for pumping his fist in the air and shouting, "YES!!!"

It was all downhill from there.

However, this second spate didn't last nearly as long and very soon they were
winding down, slightly winded, but no less full of high spirits than when
they began. Hermione was resting with her chin on Harry's chest while he had
resumed his position on his back with his head on his left arm. As soon as
the laughter had died down enough their eyes met again and they lay there,
mostly quiet, just looking at each other for a time.

Naturally, that meant Harry had to give Hermione's rear another squeeze.

Unlike the first time though this did not bring a look of mock anger and a
fit of laughter. On the contrary, this time when Hermione felt Harry's hand
pinching the naked flesh of her bottom the sparkle from earlier returned to
her eyes and she moved up the young man's body, closing the gap between them
in an instant, to resume the kissing that had been interrupted by the first
grope.

But it was not exactly the same as before. Where before there had been equal
measures of passion and ferocity in Hermione's kisses, now they were less
fierce, less possessive, but with even more intensity. After only a few
seconds like this Harry's left hand came down from behind his head to lightly
hold the back of Hermione's neck while he took full advantage of his right
hand's position, freely copping one feel after another of her buttock. The
brown eyed girl had already been lying half on top of Harry but this soon
proved insufficient and she lifted her right leg, removing it from its
position in between his knees and placing it on his other side, so that her
hips were now astride his and her chest was pressed against his.

While she eased into her prone position Hermione engaged in a little
unintentional frottage, her sex rubbing against Harry's abdomen, the
stimulation reawakening the desire and need from before and reminding her
that these still remained unfulfilled. If it had just been that one brief
contact Hermione probably could have ignored it, but their necking was so
energetic, and they were both doing so much moving, that the incident
replayed itself over and over, her swollen clitoris repeatedly being
dragged over the flesh of Harry's stomach while the two chisel points that
normally masqueraded as nipples ground into his chest. Even with this
additional incitement to contend with Hermione did her best to disregard
it and keep her focus on kissing Harry. But there really was a lot of
moving around going on, and something kept nudging her thigh and bum, and
more than once even jabbed at her overheated labia, and she was finding it
exceedingly difficult to keep her concentration centered on her lover. She
was certain it wasn't either of Harry's hands that was doing the prodding.
She could feel his left hand on her upper back and his right had not
abandoned its place attached to her posterior even once since landing
there, so unless he had suddenly grown a third hand, or maybe had been
somehow made boneless. all of a sudden the humor in these silly thoughts
was gone. This was magic school after all, and stranger things had happened,
to both of them, so it was entirely possible that someone had cast a spell
on Harry and...

For the third time that night Hermione stopped kissing Harry, but this time
it was to peer at him in some concern while he gave her a questioning look
in return. Hmmm. Everything seemed okay. He certainly didn't appear to be
missing his skeleton. What about. Hermione maneuvered on top of Harry,
shifting so that all of her weight was on her knees and she could move into
an upright position. His left hand slid down her arm as she sat up, but the
right still remained firmly affixed to her rump. Okay. Two hands only. Then
what. she moved backwards just a bit, drifting down Harry's body to look for
the source of the poking and causing him to gasp suddenly. There it was
again! Sticking her, right in her most private. Oh my! Hermione started to
turn the most vibrant shade of crimson as it slowly became apparent what had
been jabbing at her. She reached down, her right hand moving to her groin
and the object of her inquisition, until. Harry groaned in pleasure.

Nope. Definitely not boneless.

Hermione stopped to consider her current situation. This was the first time
since the night's events had started that the bushy haired girl found herself
without a plan. The arousal she had been feeling since even before she and
Harry had made love had only intensified with the near constant stimulation
of her clitoris over the last several minutes. And while she had been, not
exactly content, but at least willing to accept this condition, she would
have much preferred to find some sort of outlet for it. But given that it had
not been all that long since their lovemaking had ended, Hermione had assumed
that she would have to wait some time, some longer period of time, before
conditions would allow her that outlet. Obviously, at least where Harry was
concerned, this was not going to be the case. She sat there for all of two
seconds with her hand wrapped around his erection before lifting her body the
necessary inches and positioning the head of his penis at her opening. She
lowered herself onto Harry, her original intention of taking in just as much
of his shaft as necessary for her to start moving on him forgotten almost as
soon as she felt him start to penetrate her.

"Unnnnhhhhh."

It might have come from either one of them and probably did come, or at least
some variation of it, from both of them, but neither of them was consciously
aware of having made any sound. They were both too absorbed by the pleasure
they were receiving. It was just so, so, amazing. Even after having already
experienced the same sensations a short time earlier it was nearly impossible
to believe that anything could actually feel that good. It felt like it took
an hour just for Hermione to bottom out with Harry fully seated inside her.
She paused for several long seconds with her eyes closed, feeling his
presence, the pleasure already, even now, when they weren't even doing
anything, pushing her to the brink.

For Harry, even that two second pause before Hermione mounted him was too
long. His erection had started its comeback when the brown eyed girl had
changed her position so that she was straddling him, the same motion that
had regenerated her arousal reanimating his. He had continued to grow harder
as they kissed, every stray touch of his lover's thigh or buttock to his
member adding to his rebirth, until, with that last contact in her most
sensitive of places, he was at full staff. So what was she waiting for? He
wasn't going to get much... Blimey!

The wait, such as it was, was over. It was followed by an even longer wait,
but this time Harry didn't mind nearly as much. With his penis snugly settled
in Hermione waiting was not nearly the chore it usually was. Time, as
Einstein used to say, is relative. So while the two seconds or so that Harry
had to endure before Hermione lowered herself onto him seemed like a delay of
interminable length, the dozen seconds after, not so much. Not when he was
surrounded by such exquisite pleasure. Of course he didn't exactly protest
when Hermione started to move on top of him.

With her eyes still closed and her right hand still reaching underneath
her, Hermione started to raise her hips, lifting herself slowly off Harry's
engorged unit, and then just as slowly dropping back down. She leaned
forward, her hand finally releasing his member and joining its opposite on
the mattress to the side of Harry's shoulders as she eased herself back into
a position where she was almost lying on top of him with her knees flat on
the bed to either side of his hips. But unlike just a few moments earlier
Hermione did not rest her weight on Harry's chest, leaving her free to move
easily up and down on his member. There was another long groan but this time
Hermione was reasonably certain it had come from Harry. Her own jaw was much
too tightly clenched at that moment for any sound to have escaped.

Using only her hips, Hermione continued to move slowly on top of Harry. She
quickly discovered that her position gave a her a fair degree of flexibility
in how she moved. She could bounce up and down on his shaft, or she could
rock back and forth, her clitoris once again being rubbed against Harry's
flesh. Or, and this seemed to be particularly well received, she could move
her hips in a tight vertical circle, the young wizard's wand jerking to and
fro inside her. Or she could try different combinations of the three. It
didn't really matter what she did, both of them were so aroused at the moment
that a stray breeze would have had them moaning in ecstasy.

Over time Hermione's gyrations gained speed and Harry's hands, which had
divided their time between caressing her sides and fondling her back, worked
their way down to her hips. It didn't seem intentional on his part, but
Hermione was able to tell by the way Harry pressed his hands against her
whether he was taking greater pleasure from any specific action, or if he was
content to let her try something different. Which was how, after long minutes
of slowly grinding away, she found herself bouncing her hips vigorously up
and down, every inch of Harry's manhood going from being fully enveloped to
being in danger of completely slipping out of her over and over and over
again. Harry had removed his hands completely from her hips and was now
holding them, fists loosely clenched, near her shoulders, keeping them out of
the way while his new lover rode him at a gallop. His back was just starting
to arch as he pressed both heels and elbows into the mattress in an effort to
drive his penis deeper into Hermione when a rare cry interrupted their mostly
word-free coupling.

"Oi Hermione, you're going to bring me off!"

Fortunately, although Harry might have disputed the characterization that he
was "fortunate" to have been denied his climax, however briefly, Hermione's
stamina picked that very moment to give out and with a small cry of pleasure
she fell forward just a bit more so that her forehead was now resting against
Harry's. They stared at each other, letting their eyes communicate their
growing excitement, while Hermione returned to the more leisurely pace from
before, her upward strokes slower but now with an emphatic snap to her hips
on the downward plunge. Seizing the opportunity her new position gave her,
she tilted her head just a smidge and pressed her lips to Harry's. For a
while there was no other sound in the room but their lovemaking and their
renewed snogging.

To Hermione's way of thinking, life, at that precise moment in time, was
just about as perfect as it could get. Sure, there were people that she
wished could always be with them that were not there, and there had been
heart-breaking loss very recently, and the fight against Voldemort was far
from over, but, since Hermione was not an exhibitionist, and since there
was nothing that could be done to change the past, and since any battles to
be fought were in the future, the brown haired witch felt that her life could
not, for that moment, get any better. It was perfect. Of course at that exact
instant she was engaged in the most enjoyable and intimate act she had ever
experienced, and the intimacy of said act had only been heightened by their
prolonged kissing even as the pleasure increased with every motion of her
pelvis, so it was pretty easy to understand why she would feel that way and
why she would cast a silent plea that the moment would never end.

But Hermione had had some experience with perfect moments before, and she
knew that, however much she might wish otherwise, they did not last. The sun
would dip below the horizon, or the rainbow would fade, or the snow would
stop falling and the outer world would intrude once again. Even those perfect
moments that were less ethereal and more mundane, such as the mastering of a
particularly difficult spell before anyone else in the class, passed quickly
and without so much as a by your leave. And so too, Hermione expected, would
this one. What she did not expect was that the subsequent moments would be
even better.

Not that it seemed like it was getting better to Hermione at first. At
first she thought things were getting, not worse, it would be impossible to
describe any situation that had her still actively making love to Harry as
being worse, but maybe less intimate. And this was only because she had had
to break away from kissing him to gasp for breath. They had been snogging for
some time now and all the while she had continued to move her body up and
down on his shaft, though she had left the hip snapping behind in favor of
the slower, less energy depleting, pace she had started with. But even with
that slower pace Hermione found that she no longer had enough breath to both
continue kissing Harry and to give voice to the moans that she hadn't even
realized had been issuing from her for quite some time, the mmmpppffff's and
nnnhhh's spilling out from between their pressed lips.

"Mmmmhhhh... mmmhhhh... aaaahhhhh... aaaahhhhh.... ohhhhhh... ohhhhhh...
ohhhhhh..."

Hermione's head lifted away from Harry's as she cried out, her left hand
coming to rest lightly on his chest. She closed her eyes as she concentrated
on the physical sensations her body was relaying from her groin and opened
her mouth wider, the sounds of her pleasure timed with every stroke of her
pelvis. She wanted to open her eyes but could not, her face was too scrunched
up for the moment as she dipped her head back down and turned it to her
right. When her left hand lifted off of Harry's chest and curled into a fist
Hermione knew she was getting close to her climax. How she knew that the best
way to get there would require a change of technique, well that was a
mystery. But as soon as she transitioned from the up and down pistoning
motion she had been relying on for so long now, back to the rocking movement
that provided direct stimulation to her clit, the brown eyed girl knew she
had somehow made the right choice. She was starting to learn that Harry
wasn't the only person who could trust his instincts.

Of course Harry's instincts hadn't really been called into play for some time
now. Unless you consider having the good sense to lie relatively still while
a beautiful young woman rides you to climax instinctive. In which case Harry
was doing a brilliant job. What Harry was being called upon to do mostly
involved responding to Hermione's movements, either with a shift of his hips
or a stroke of his hand, and staying hard. Not exactly a huge challenge for
the young wizard at that moment. The castle surrounding them stood a better
chance of going soft than Harry did ensconced as he was deep inside Hermione.
And Harry wasn't really just lying there doing nothing. That would have been
even more unimaginable than the castle dissolving around them. He had kept
his movements to a minimum while he and Hermione had been kissing, but ever
since the bushy haired girl had pulled back from him he had been using his
position with his knees bent and his feet flat on the bed to drive his pelvis
upward, enhancing the pleasure for both of them and bringing himself once
again to the verge, unaware that this time, Hermione would be joining him. It
was only by sheer coincidence that they each managed to force their eyes
open, their gazes locking, just as they crossed that threshold together.

"Ohhhh... ohhhh... ohhhh... Oh Harry! Oh Harry! OH HARRY!!"

"Mmmmppffff... mmmm... nhhhh... nhhhh... HERMIONEEEE!!"

Neither one of them actually realized that the other had reached climax at
the same time until after their own orgasm was already under way. Hermione's
orgasm began, as it always did, with a series of strong muscle contractions,
her vagina constricting rhythmically around the shaft trapped within it. And
since this was the first time that Hermione was experiencing a climax with
a penis inside her, this had a sort of ripple effect on the young woman as
the repeated tightening caused the walls of her canal to massage themselves
against the fully seated rod and this in turn increased momentarily the
pleasure she was receiving and served to increase both the intensity, and
the duration, of the contractions. It wasn't until things started to ease
off, the contractions becoming less rhythmic and more random, that Hermione
realized that she was also feeling the results of Harry's climax once again
as he ejaculated deeply within her.

Harry's orgasm, on the other hand, did not begin exactly like all the
preceding ones. Where every time before Harry had relied on the one-two
punch of friction and vigorous pumping, this time the black haired boy
found himself cut off from these always dependable tactics and instead
felt his manhood gripped as if in a fist. As it has often been described
before it was a velvet gloved, immensely pleasurable fist, but the hold
it had on him was complete just the same. Then, as quickly as it had
grabbed him, he felt his shaft released, only to feel it grasped once
again a second later. Over and over this pattern repeated, the clamping
and unclamping acting to manipulate his penis even better than if he had
still been able to thrust into Hermione freely, and by the fourth or fifth
convulsion Harry felt the inevitable reaction as his second orgasm of the
night arrived. And as with his lover, he didn't notice that Hermione had
climaxed at the same time as he until he finally heard her cries of
pleasure. Putting two and two together he arrived at O, only then
understanding that it was Hermione's orgasm that had triggered his own.

The newly minted lovers stayed that way, bodies locked in pleasure, for what
seemed a small eternity, the seconds passing, and passing, and passing,
until, just like they started, they both reached the end point at roughly the
same time. With the completion of their mutual climax, and the relaxing of
muscles that accompanied it, came a renewed ability to talk. Harry was
actually still too excited to speak, not to mention completely at a loss for
any words that could adequately describe how he felt right then, about the
sex or Hermione. And if he didn't know exactly what to say, he at least knew
that it would be better to say nothing than to say the wrong thing, so he
left it up to the brown eyed witch to decide if the moment required comment.
After all, this time would be at least as important, and probably more so, to
Hermione as it was to Harry. When she started to push the hair out of her
eyes and met his gaze he knew he had made the right decision.

"I think I understand now why the Americans call that position Cowgirl. I
quite liked it."

Harry goggled up at his brown haired friend for a few moments, sputtering out
a few syllables but not quite forming anything intelligible. He had expected
words of love and affection. He had been ready to modestly accept praise for
his sexual prowess. He could have even handled a typical for Hermione
analytical breakdown of the just completed encounter. But this? Nothing, not
one single thing, could have ever prepared him for those words to come out of
Hermione's mouth. Calling it the last thing he had ever expected was too
generous. This, well this wouldn't have even been in his universe of
possibilities. Hermione had always had the capability to surprise Harry, but
usually said surprises came in the form of an unexpectedly funny retort,
often at Ron's expense, or in her ability to solve one of their seemingly
never-ending problems before all the facts were available. But this, this
talent and openness towards sex, well this was completely unforeseen. Harry
liked it. A lot.

Still speechless, but now for an entirely different reason, Harry had no
choice but to react in a physical way. He grabbed Hermione by the shoulders
and started to roll her over onto her back, eliciting a combination of
squeals and giggles from her in the process. As soon as he was poised once
again above her, Harry bent his head and captured the recumbent girl's lips
with his own, kissing her tenderly and cutting her off mid squeal. Hermione
tensed up when she felt Harry grab her, unsure of his immediate intentions,
and only relaxing when she felt Harry's hand come up to cup the side of her
face.

"Looks like I've got you by the cheek again."

"Yes, I suppose you have." The words were spoken softly and Hermione looked
up at Harry happily, but a moment later her gaze sharpened and with a little
more force in her voice than before said "You're not going to pinch me again,
are you?"

It was tempting, and for a moment the 10 year old brat that lives inside
every boy warred with the young man that was lying in bed with his first
lover. And the brat was winning. But in the end the more mature head, and
not by coincidence the one that wanted to continue having sex with Hermione
and didn't think that the best way to do that was by making her hacked off,
prevailed and Harry refrained from any tweaking of the flesh under his palm.

"No. No pinching. I have something better in mind."

"Is that. Ohhh!"

As they snogged Harry lowered his body, resting some of his weight on
Hermione. They had remained coupled while Hermione was still on top of him,
parting only when he had rolled her onto her back. But that did not mean he
had completely lost his erection. He wasn't quite as hard as when they had
actually been making love but he was still reasonably erect. So when he
lowered himself on top of Hermione he unwittingly mimicked her own actions
from earlier, rubbing his shaft against the brown eyed girl's pubic mound.
Whoa. That felt pretty good. Not as good as being inside the pretty witch,
but certainly much better than his own hand. Harry briefly considered the
possibility of going for a third round. He was a little tired, but not so
tired that he didn't think he could go again. Of course before they could do
anything, and that presumed Hermione would be up for it, he would have to
regain his full erection. But once there. Harry allowed himself to imagine a
third time making love with Hermione, imagined sliding into her once more,
feeling the tightness and warmth surrounding his shaft. Imagined sliding in
and out of that tight moist channel, the pleasure building and building and
building. It was working, perhaps a little too well. Harry felt himself
growing harder and knew that in a very short time he could be ready to make
that imaginary third time a reality. Hermione permitting of course. Actually,
Harry was closer to ready than he initially realized and it occurred to him
that if he didn't stop what he was doing he might find himself reaching
climax before the actual event had even started. And besides being
disappointing to both he and Hermione, it would also be terribly messy. Not
at all as tidy as the first two times when he came inside. Harry stopped
dead. Stopped rubbing his shaft against Hermione's bush, stopped kissing her,
stopped thinking about making love to her one more time, stopped breathing.
He just stopped. And let that last thought run through his brain for a
moment. When he came inside her. Came inside her. Came. Inside. Hermione.
Twice. Oh NO!

He started to pull back in horror, his eyes going round with panic as he
thought for the first time about all the implications of what they had just
done. Hermione's eyes widened as well as she responded to the look on her
lover's face and she raised herself up on her elbows as Harry pulled away.

"Harry! What is it? What's wrong?"

"Hermione! I. inside you. no protection!"

The words tumbled out without any real connection but when Harry started
gesticulating towards her belly Hermione was able to make some sense out of
things at last and she fell back into the pillows with a huge sigh, "Oh
that's what's got you going. What a relief. For a moment there you really
had me worried Harry."

"But Hermione, what if you get pregnant?!?" The last few words came out as
barely even a whisper, the idea so alarming to Harry that he dared not speak
the words louder, lest the simple act of voicing them turned the idea into
fact.

"Harry, calm down! It's all right! I saw to that. I can't get pregnant."

"It's all right? You can't? What? When? How?"

Sensing that it was probably better to answer the unspoken question first and
then tackle the others, Hermione sought to ease Harry's fears as she moved
into a sitting position beside him with her legs folded underneath her, "It's
all right Harry. It's not permanent." The sudden relaxing of Harry's
shoulders accompanied by a huffed out breath told her she had been right to
start there. Typical Harry. Even in the middle of his fear that they had done
something neither of them was even remotely ready for he still found time to
be concerned for his friend. She smiled at him as she continued, happy to see
that he was able to return the expression with one of his own.

"I made a potion the other day, while you were off visiting Hagrid, and I
drank it that night after you went to bed when it had cooled sufficiently.
It will. suffice for at least a week."

"A potion? So that's why you didn't want to come with me. I was wondering.
But where did you learn to do that?"

Now Hermione laughed. Sometimes boys could be so clueless.

"In the library of course. Harry, you didn't really think I spent all that
time there studying did you?"

It really was as if a light had just been switched on and Harry's eyes
widened a little as he went "Ohhh!" Full of surprises this one.

With that near crisis neatly averted by Hermione's careful planning Harry was
able to turn his mind to something else that had been nibbling at his brain
for a while. Something that he hadn't been able to quite put a finger on,
and would continue to bother him until he figured it out. He knew it was
something to do with what he and Hermione had done. Something about the
actual sex act. But what? Oh! That's what. Harry knew this was Hermione's
first time making love just as surely as he knew it was his own first time.
But wasn't there something about a young woman's first time that made it
incredibly different from a young man's? Something that could actually make
the first few minutes uncomfortable for her. Maybe even a little painful?

"Hermione." He paused there, not quite sure as to how to proceed. He had no
doubts about his lover, he was only concerned that in his sex-drunk haze he
might have caused her some pain but been too self-absorbed to have even
realized it. "Hermione. did I hurt you?"

What?!? Where was this coming from? How did Harry get from worrying that she
might get pregnant to fear that he had harmed her?

"Harry no!! Of course not! You were as gentle as could be. No woman could
have asked for a more thoughtful lover for her first time. Why would you ever
even ask such a question?"

"Well it's just that. I know I'm not very experienced, and it's not like it's
covered in the classes here, but I have heard some of the others talking,
Fred and George and such, and they've said that when a girl shags the first
time, I mean loses her virginity, well. doesn't it hurt?"

"Oh I see! You're talking about breaking my hymen." Harry visibly cringed
at that. He might have been ready to have sex but that didn't mean he was
comfortable discussing any of the more private details, and in Harry's mind
few things could possibly qualify as more private than Hermione's hymen.
"You're right of course. Normally that would be a source of some distress
for a woman having sex for the first time. But I didn't want that getting
in the way of things." Hermione could only imagine how Harry would have
reacted if he saw blood seeping from between her legs and staining the
sheets "... so I saw to that beforehand as well. Some weeks ago actually."

For the second time in just a very short space Harry felt enormous relief.
So he hadn't caused her any pain. Thank goodness. Harry didn't think he could
deal with the thought that he had hurt Hermione. Not after what they had just
shared.

"Oh that's a relief. I was worried. So there's a potion for that also?"

Another laugh from the bushy haired witch as she reached for her wand on the
night stand between Harry's bed and the one she had been using, "Oh no Harry.
For that I needed this."

Her wand? Harry looked at the thin, baton-like piece of wood in her hand then
up to Hermione's face and then down to the patch of fur that was partially
obscured by her legs and back to the wand. She used her wand?

"Ew."

Ew? That was hardly the reaction Hermione had anticipated. But then no sooner
had that thought passed through her mind when she saw what Harry had taken
her answer to mean. Flushing in some embarrassment she quickly corrected the
misunderstanding.

"No Harry! I meant I used a spell. To get rid of my hymen." This time Harry
managed to avoid cringing but his face still scrunched up a bit in distaste.

"Ohhh. I uh, I didn't know they had spells for that kind of thing."

"They don't. Not exactly. But I found one that could be modified with a
little work, and after checking with Madam Pomfrey and a great deal of
experimentation, I used it on myself."

"Oh that's a relief! That you checked with Pomfrey and practiced beforehand
I mean. I wouldn't want you to take any chances. And I'm glad it wasn't what
I thought, `cause I thought, well, you know." Harry illustrated his last
sentence by holding out his index finger and jabbing it towards Hermione,
causing the young witch to flinch in turn as she pictured just a little too
vividly his imagined cure for her virginity.

"No! No Harry. That's not what I did. That would be..." she met Harry's eyes
and they spoke simultaneously "... Ew."

That took care of two of Harry's most pressing concerns, leaving him with
only a couple of others. Sleep was one of them, but that was still something
that could be put off for a time. Another thing that had been deferred was
any thought of a third round for the two of them. Fear of an unwanted
pregnancy, however unfounded, followed by some too graphic imagery of
Hermione's method for eliminating her maidenhead had put an end to Harry's
erection as quickly as a cold shower. But again, only for a time. As with all
17-year olds it wasn't a question of if with Harry, only when. And a short
when at that. So that left. Sitting as they were with their heads close
together it only took a small adjustment before they were once again kissing
each other, made all the easier when they both seemed to move towards one
another at the same time. Harry took his lover back down to the bed's surface
where they ended up on their sides facing each other, their lips still locked
together. They continued like this, but only for a few more minutes, before
they both pulled back a bit to look at each other. Another need, this time
mostly on Hermione's part but one that Harry certainly understood, was
demanding some attention, and as this too required the use of the brown eyed
girl's mouth, it meant that the snogging had to be put on hold for a while.
The time to talk had finally arrived.

Like most men, young or old, Harry did not particularly enjoy talking about
his feelings. Feelings were something you, well, felt. Not something you
trotted out to discuss with your mates. Not unless you enjoyed being ribbed
mercilessly that is. But this was different. Harry was not in bed with his
male friends, he was in bed with his very first lover. Who just so happened
to be one of his best friends, but instead of making things awkward, the fact
that Hermione was such a close friend, an intimate in more ways than one now,
just made things easier. Made Harry more open to talking. So when Hermione
did finally ask Harry how he was feeling, he was ready for the question, but
perhaps not the answer.

"Happy."

Happy? Harry was "happy"? Really? He examined the thought. Yes. It seemed
possible. Maybe. yes. The answer was yes. He really, truly, was happy. Harry
looked up to Hermione, to see her huge smile, her own joy being beamed back
to him and he started to respond in kind. But as soon as it began his smile
faltered and a twinge of guilt flashed across his face. What right did he
have to be happy? Especially so soon after his biggest failure. No, he hadn't
earned this. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

Hermione saw the sudden change come over him and correctly interpreted its
cause and she reached over to caress his cheek while she sought to ease his
conscience with her words, "No Harry. Don't. Don't feel guilty for this. The
last thing he would ever want for you is to feel you didn't deserve to be
happy. You do him a disservice by thinking he would begrudge you this."

"You think?"

"I'm sure of it Harry. As sure as I have ever been of anything. If there is
one thing he could have wished for you and had it come true it would be this.
That you be happy."

If it hadn't been the truth Harry would not have been nearly so receptive to
his friend's words, sloughing them off instead, like so much dead skin. But
it was the truth and he could hear it in Hermione's voice and see it in her
eyes. And he wanted this so badly, wanted to be allowed to feel this way
without feeling guilty about it, wanted, for once in his life, just to be
happy to be who he was. Happy to be Harry Potter instead of feeling like that
was a constant burden all the time. Was that asking so much?

The answer was obvious. And even if it hadn't been readily apparent to Harry
it certainly was to Hermione. She was still on her side facing him, but she
had raised herself up on her elbow so that she could look down at him, and
the look on her face, a mixture of love and fierce determination, told Harry
that he had better arrive at the same conclusion and do it quickly.
Fortunately for him he was already there.

"Thank you. For everything. I mean."

Luckily Hermione stopped Harry with a quick kiss before he could get any
farther. The wisdom that had guided him immediately after their recent
coupling had apparently abandoned him and the black haired boy was just on
the verge of putting a crude cap to the night's events when Hermione
interrupted him.

"You're welcome Harry. For everything."

Caressing Harry's cheek with her thumb once more Hermione leaned down and
started to kiss him again. Unlike almost every other time however, this time
she kissed him not as a prelude to sex or a celebration thereof, this time
Hermione was kissing Harry for a much simpler, yet far more profound, reason.
This time she was telling Harry how much she loved him.

After some time Hermione pulled back a bit from her swain and the pair spent
some time just looking into each other's eyes. No words were spoken, though
Hermione continued to rub her thumb lightly along Harry's cheek. The
temptation was there for both of them to say something, to proclaim the depth
of their feelings for one another, but somehow they both knew that now was
not the time for that. Someday, maybe, but not now. So instead they continued
to communicate silently, as best they could using only their eyes, each
understanding how the other felt and hoping that they were doing as good a
job of conveying their emotions as their lover. The big smile that
transformed Harry's face and was immediately mirrored on Hermione's own
countenance gave them their answer.

Just then Hermione decided a change of position was in order and she rolled
over so that she was now resting on her right side with her back to Harry.
She snuggled up against him, spooning her body to his complete with a very
sexy wiggle of her buttocks against Harry's abdomen that instantly reminded
him of his abandoned plans for a third round of lovemaking. But if that was
part of Hermione's agenda when she embarked on this sudden change she
certainly hid it well. Instead the brown haired girl started to talk, the
need to communicate in words still strong within her. However, this was not
a continuation of the somewhat weighty topics of moments before, this was
more of an ordinary conversation, of the sort the two friends could have had
just about any day in just about any place. It just so happened that this
conversation was taking place while they were both naked in Harry's bed
shortly after having made love and while Harry was running his left hand up
and down Hermione's arm and side.

They started off talking about the weather and the gifts that Harry would
likely get from his friends for his birthday - which led of course to his
commenting how none of the other gifts could possibly compare with Hermione's
and earned him a smack on the leg in response - and about the upcoming
wedding at the Weasley's. The conversation then drifted, as conversations
are wont to do, through a variety of seemingly disjointed topics until they
moved on to the situation at Hogwarts and the chances of the school remaining
open for the next term. They both grew a little wistful at this point, Harry
as he thought about this last opportunity to win another Quidditch cup for
Gryffindor, and Hermione as she mourned her lost chance to leave school a
fully qualified witch, something that would not happen unless she finished
her seventh year and passed her NEWTs. Nastily Exhausting or not Hermione
desperately wanted to take those tests and pass just as Harry desperately
wanted to win the Quidditch cup one more time. And if Hogwarts did not reopen
in September, or if they could not attend, then neither desire was liable to
happen, however much they might wish otherwise.

Sigh.

This simultaneous expulsion of air caused them to focus their attention on
each other again and Harry looked down at his lover and saw the melancholy
look on her face. Knowing where his own thoughts had taken him and assuming
that Hermione's had taken her in somewhat the same direction, although where
the brown eyed witch was concerned it was always best to guess she had gone
in a more academic bent, Harry put aside his own concerns for the coming term
and focused instead on his friend's, deciding at that moment, that somehow,
some way, he was going to make things right. He had no idea how he was going
to do this, he didn't even know exactly what was bothering Hermione, but he
knew something was disturbing his lover and that he had to fix it. This is
what men do. They fix things.

"Don't worry Hermione. We're going to fix this. Hogwarts will be open for the
new school year and we're going to be here come next June. I swear it!"

She looked up at him, searching his face for any doubt but not finding even
a hint. Her rational mind told her that this was beyond even Harry's rather
amazing abilities for problem solving but her heart told her to trust him.
Just like she had countless times before. And look where that had gotten
them. With a smile of contentment Hermione reached up and took hold of
Harry's hand where it lay quietly on her upper arm and brought it to her
lips, giving it a little kiss. It might not make much sense, but Hermione
had never gone wrong before by trusting Harry so she saw no reason to doubt
him now. It was a leap of faith, but not a particularly large one and not
anything she hadn't done many times before. Then, just when it looked she
was going to follow her heart, her rational mind did an abrupt about face.
Harry had sworn to solve this problem and to be there, with Hermione and the
rest of them, at the end of the school year. That meant that Harry was making
plans for a future. His future. Their future. She gave the back of his hand
another kiss.

"Thank you."

It was now pretty late at night, or very early in the morning depending on
your perspective, and the two teenagers were starting to feel a bit sleepy.
The sun would be rising in less than two hours time and even though it was
summer break and they had no actual schedule to maintain, they were at
school and they would be expected to make an appearance at some point during
the day. If only so that everyone else could get a chance to wish Harry a
happy birthday. They started to settle in for the night, taking the time for
a prolonged goodnight kiss and many whispered endearments, before Hermione
used a non-verbal spell to close the curtains on Harry's four-poster bed and
extinguish the lamps. The bushy haired girl seemed content to remain lying
on her right side as she drifted off to sleep, and since she still had
Harry's left hand clasped in both of hers and pressed against her chest he
was forced to remain where he was. Not that he was complaining. Harry could
think of far worse things he could be doing than snuggling up against
Hermione's naked back as they fell asleep. In fact, if you left out the
events of the last few hours, he would have been very hard pressed to have
come up with anything he would have preferred doing. Anything at all. This
was even better than beating Malfoy and Slytherin at Quidditch. He softly
pressed his lips to Hermione's head one last time and closed his eyes as he
prepared to go to sleep. Only to have them fly back open mere moments later
when she once again wriggled her bare bum against his abdomen in an attempt
to get more comfortable. Yes. Things could be far worse. He closed his eyes
once more and silence descended for a time.

But sleep would not come.

Not for Harry anyway. For Hermione sleep seemed to have taken her with
no problem, at least as far as the young wizard could determine from his
position pressed up against her back. He could feel the breath going in and
out of her in a slow, steady rhythm, and though her face was mostly obscured
by her bushy brown hair it looked to him like her eyes were closed and she
was already fast asleep. As he would also be, if only Hermione hadn't kept
wiggling her rump against him. After a lifetime of feeling only his own hand
take hold of it, Harry's penis thrilled to every touch, however slight or
innocuous, from another person that came its way, and after feeling Hermione
press her naked bottom against his shaft not once, not twice but now for a
third time, he was about as erect as he had been at any point that night.
Not that anyone could blame him for being aroused. There was innocuous and
then there was the incredibly soft, yet deliciously firm, flesh of Hermione's
rear end. Harry would have to have been comatose not to get excited under
those circumstances.

Of course understanding the reason for his arousal and being able to do
something about it so that he could fall asleep were two entirely different
things. Harry knew from prior personal experience that until he could do
something about his. condition, there would be no sleep for him. Which did
not mean that he had to take matters into his own hands. Not at all. The
idea of masturbating to take care of his problem did not appeal to Harry
one bit. Particularly when he took into account recent events. That the need
would come upon him again one day in the future, yes, that he could accept.
But to do something like that on the very night he had made love to Hermione
for the first, and second, time, no. That would just cheapen the whole
experience. And that was something the young man would not do. Not to her
and not even to himself. They both had earned better. However, this did
nothing to alleviate Harry's problem, he was still hard enough to pound
nails.

There were really only two choices available to him. He could remain where he
was and hope that time and fatigue would eventually allow him to relax to the
point where sleep could come. Not bloody likely when he could feel his member
rubbing up against Hermione's nude skin every time the brown haired girl
breathed or either of them shifted even the tiniest amount. Or, and this
really was his only viable option, he could try to eliminate the source of
his arousal, extricate himself from his beautiful young lover's grasp and
move away from her unintentionally tantalizing behind so he could try to lose
his by now problematic erection. To walk it off as it were. Or douse it off.
It occurred to Harry that a dash of cool water from the wash basin might go a
long way toward eliminating his problem. Now he just had to get out of the
bed. Something that proved to be much easier said than done.

As soon as he started to roll away he felt Hermione clutch his hand tighter,
refusing to release it and preventing him from moving too far from her,
"What? Noooo. Come back Harry. Where are you going?"

"Oh Hermione. Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. Why don't you go back to
sleep? I'm just..." Just what? Harry didn't want to lie but he couldn't tell
his lover that his penis had decided it wasn't quite ready for sleep just
then and he was off to find a way to convince it that they were done for
the night. " ...I'm just off to the loo." There, that ought to get him away
without any further discussion.

"Can't sleep?"

Or not. "Um, no. Not yet. I, uh, just need." It suddenly occurred to Harry
that Hermione had responded much too rapidly for someone that had given every
appearance of already being fast asleep, "Hey! Why aren't you sleeping?"

"I would have been. Shortly, I suspect. But I was just lying here enjoying
the feeling of having you next to me Harry, having you pressed up against my
back. I like it. It's nice."

Those last two sentences were spoken more softly than the others, almost
shyly, and Harry smiled widely upon hearing them. It was nice. And he liked
it also. "Me too." He bent down and pressed his lips to Hermione's head,
snuggling back up tight against her in the process and getting a very
contented sigh as a reward. Harry was just about to resign himself to the
fact that he was not going to be able to get away to deal with his situation
when he felt Hermione start to move.

"However, since we're both awake, I have a better idea."

A better idea? A better idea than what?

Leaving the question unvoiced, Harry got his answer almost immediately anyway
when Hermione shifted on the bed once more. However this time it was no
inadvertent touch that he felt, but the deliberate grasp of his shaft in the
brown eyed girl's hand as she lifted her left leg a bit and reached down to
take hold of him, positioning his member at her opening and then slowly
sliding it inside her. Oh Yes! This was a much better idea! Than anything!
Especially Harry's scheme to go water his penis. It struck the young wizard
that somehow his plan to relieve his erection wouldn't have been nearly as
much fun as Hermione's.

"I thought you were already sleeping, otherwise I would have done this much
sooner. Your erection is the reason you were getting out of bed, isn't it?"

In spite of everything they had already done, Harry still felt his skin flush
a little at such a direct reference to his rigid organ, "Um, yeah. It's kinda
hard."

"Yes, I noticed." Hermione giggled softly as she spoke.

"... to fall a..." Harry ground to a halt as his blush briefly deepened. He
had never really been able to compete with Hermione when it came to words,
and he really wasn't inclined to start trying at that particular moment. He
knew the teasing was actually meant to be affectionate, he did enough of it
himself to recognize it when he heard it, but that didn't mean he had to lie
there and simply take it. And since he could not beat Hermione with words,
he did the next best thing, withdrawing his unit until he was almost all the
way out and then slamming it back into her, cutting his bushy haired lover
off in mid-chuckle.

Hermione's eyes closed when she felt Harry re-enter her and her giggle became
something of a grunt as the air was forced out of her. Since they were both
still on their sides, Harry couldn't pivot his hips with as much punch as if
Hermione were on her back and he was positioned above her, but he was still
able to get enough momentum behind his thrusts to prevent his lover from any
additional cracks at his expense. Harry didn't mind being the object of the
occasional joke, but this was much more pleasurable for both of them.
Certainly it was for him, and, unless Hermione enjoyed teasing him far more
than he imagined, he would bet she liked it more also.

Even so, Harry continued the withdrawal and forceful reinsertion of his penis
for only a few more thrusts before changing from relatively rapid, sharp
strokes to a longer, more intent grind, where he pressed the underside of his
shaft up against the front wall of Hermione's vagina. Judging by the moans
this drew from the brown eyed girl the change was not unappreciated.

Things continued this way for a time, the pair alternating between the
occasional snog and voicing their pleasure, until Hermione suddenly turned
her head away from Harry. The dark haired boy thought that this was a sign
that his lover was about to have another orgasm only to be surprised when
she brought her left hand, and with it his own, up to her mouth. Then he
thought that maybe Hermione was going to use their clasped hands to muffle
the continuous cries of passion pouring from her only to be surprised once
more when he felt her start to kiss, and possibly even lick, the tips of
his fingers. Okay. That was different. Why would Hermione be licking his
fingers?

Harry didn't spend a whole lot of time considering this new development. In
fact the thought had no sooner crossed his mind than he was preparing to
discard it, being otherwise occupied actually having sex at that moment and
not really all that concerned about why the brown eyed girl was doing
whatever it was she was doing. But then Hermione started moving their hands
again, and instead of returning them to their original spot pressed against
her chest she continued moving them down her body, down past her breasts and
over her stomach, continuing down until Harry felt the soft, curly hairs just
above her vagina. Now this got his attention again. Even through the single
minded focus that was a young man just starting to realize that another
orgasm would soon be coming his way. They had spent almost literally hours
kissing, and he had fondled and caressed Hermione intimately while she had
done the same to him, and of course they had taken things just about as far
as things could be taken, three times now, but, still, there is something
about that first touch, that first time that a young man feels the downy,
almost cottony softness of his lover's pubic hair, that is so incredibly
exhilarating. Harry started to increase the speed of his strokes in response.

But Hermione was not quite done repositioning their linked hands. Sure, Harry
may have found it all terribly exciting to have his fingers intertwined in
the small patch of hair just at the juncture of her legs, but for the brown
haired girl it wasn't quite as big a deal. Particularly not when she could
feel his penis alternately entering and exiting her and thrilling just about
every nerve ending in her body.

Just about. Which was why Hermione did not stop when she had brought Harry's
hand down to her bush, continuing on instead to her real destination, just a
couple of inches farther down her body.

If Harry found it exciting to have his fingers touching Hermione's pubic hair
it was nothing compared to actually feeling his fingertips brushing against
her clitoris. He expressed this excitement in a way that under any other
circumstances probably would have brought him at least a mild rebuke from the
very person that had just caused him to utter the expletive, but if Hermione
even heard him she gave no outward indication. However she did react to
Harry's caress, her eyes closing tightly and her head turning so that she was
no longer gazing up at him, instead pressing her face into her upper right
arm. She guided Harry's hand at the beginning. Showing him how she wanted to
be touched and how much pressure she could handle. Nothing too forceful.
Trapped as it was between the tips of Harry's fingers and his still surging
penis Hermione's clitoris needed only the gentlest of touches. And the
briefest.

When Hermione drafted Harry's hand to help her on her way to another climax
she did more than just close her eyes and start mouthing her upper arm, she
also moved her left leg back a bit, resting it on her lover's own left thigh.
This served to turn her body as well, so that she was no longer completely
upright on her side, but was now partially leaning against Harry. Who barely
even noticed. Or, as had Hermione moments earlier, he just ignored the change
as being mostly inconsequential, focusing instead on the end result, that by
moving her leg the bushy haired witch had opened herself up to his touch even
more than she already had been. Harry started to move his hand more freely,
sliding it down until his fingertips were just barely coming into contact
with his shaft, and allowing him to use more of the length of his digits to
stimulate Hermione's clit. This proved to be more than Hermione could take,
and within seconds the gifted young witch felt the beginnings of another
climax.

Unlike the last time, Harry was not being distracted by his own orgasm as
Hermione climaxed. This time Harry knew that the brown haired girl was coming
almost as soon as she did. He heard it in her cries and saw it in the arching
of her back and, most importantly, felt it in the forceful gripping and
release of his shaft by her vagina. Knowing that he was the direct cause of
such intense pleasure for her added to the excitement he was already feeling
and built upon the long minutes of stimulation he had already received,
until, just a short time later, he too came with a cry.

After they had both wound down some, Hermione shifted again, pressing her
body even more tightly up against Harry's until it seemed as if she had
almost melted against him, while he softly nuzzled her neck. Neither of them
spoke for a while as they enjoyed their afterglow, until the cuddling was
interrupted by a huge yawn from Harry.

This brought yet another soft laugh from Hermione, "Oh sure. Now you're ready
to sleep."

"Well yeah. Problems gone, innit?" Harry tried to put on a self-righteous air
as he responded, but almost as soon as he finished speaking he yawned again,
ruining the whole effect.

More laughter, and then Hermione opened her mouth to continue the gentle
teasing of her lover, only to find out that it really is true what they say,
yawning is contagious. Now it was Harry's turn to laugh, hastily stifled as
he tried to fight off another big yawn with mixed results. The long day plus
the night's exertions had finally caught up with them. As much as they both
might have wished that they could just remain as they were, if only for a few
more minutes, their stamina was at an end and their bodies demanded sleep.
They were barely able to whisper their good night's to each other before
their eyes closed and within seconds they were fast asleep.

* * *

Despite the fact that they retired so late, both Harry and Hermione were up
with the sun just a couple of hours later. In part this was from habit, but
mostly it was because nature makes other demands on a person aside from rest
and sex. So they both got up, Harry somewhat more grumpily than Hermione,
and performed their normal morning rituals. However, once they had both
returned to their room, there was really nothing preventing them from going
back to bed for a few more hours of sleep. Breakfast could be had in the
Great Hall in just a short while if they wanted it, but even though they were
both a little hungry, what they really wanted was to crawl back into Harry's
bed and go back to sleep. Stopping only to wish each other a proper good
morning, this is exactly what they did and minutes later they were both once
again slumbering soundly.

It was late morning when Harry awoke for the second time. Hermione was still
sleeping, so Harry carefully untangled himself from her grasp and went down
to the common room to see if perhaps the House-elves had provided some
breakfast for the two of them. If so there was no remaining evidence of it,
but there was a decent sized pile of birthday presents for him over by the
fireplace. Harry considered the pile, and under other circumstances probably
would have even opened one or two of the gifts, but he decided against it. As
much as he loved his friends and appreciated the thoughts behind the gifts,
he knew that nothing in the pile could ever compete with the already
unwrapped gift still lying asleep upstairs in his bed. Since he and Hermione
were staying in Gryffindor Tower by themselves Harry had felt no need to put
on any clothes before going to the common room, and the thought of his
lover's naked body caused his equally naked penis to begin to stir. Before
he knew it he was mounting the stairs to his dormitory as quickly as he was
able.

Upon reaching his room Harry came to a sudden, and noticeably disappointed,
stop. The curtains surrounding his four-poster were still drawn indicating
that Hermione was not up yet. A part of Harry, a rather large part at that,
wanted to go over to the bed and wake her, but another part of him, a more
considerate part, made the decision not to. But he also did not feel like
going back to bed to sleep. Instead he moved over to the window, the same
window where everything had started the night before, and looked out over
the school grounds, enjoying the cool breeze while he replayed the night's
events in his mind. His penis had started to wilt a little, but the memories
playing in his head soon had him back at full mast and without even realizing
it he started to slowly stroke his shaft. A strange noise from his right
interrupted his reverie.

He turned to see the curtains around his bed pulled back and Hermione, still
nude, lying on her stomach with her head near the foot of the bed, regarding
him with slightly widened eyes. Harry smiled at her, but also blushed deeply
at having been caught in such a compromising position and he quickly removed
his hand from his member as Hermione got off the bed and moved to join him at
the window.

A few short paces and she was standing in front of Harry and she reached out
to take him by the hand, "No Harry! Don't! You have nothing to be embarrassed
about!"

Even though he had entered the room with sex in mind, Harry wasn't so sure
that Hermione's claim was quite accurate, being caught fondling yourself
seemed inherently embarrassing to him, but instead of disputing it he opted
instead for the safer ground of a simple greeting, "Um, morning." as he
fumbled for something to do other than just stand there with a by now rather
prominent erection.

"Good morning Harry." Hermione paused a moment before continuing, a touch of
shyness creeping into her voice, "Were you thinking about last night?"

Shy, meet bashful. Bashful, shy.

"Um, yeah. Kinda."

"Me too."

Harry couldn't tell if his friend was simply stating that she had also been
thinking about the prior night or if she was confessing to having done a
little fondling of her own. The pleasant thought was pushed out of his head
when Hermione simultaneously moved in to kiss him and wrapped her right hand
gently around his shaft.

"Urf..."

They continued snogging while Hermione stroked him, her touch light but still
electrifying to the young wizard. So exhilarating in fact, that if the brown
haired girl had persisted for just a few more minutes she might have found
herself dealing with quite a mess. But she stopped short of causing Harry to
launch a load onto her hand and pulled back from him a bit, ending the twin
actions almost as suddenly as they had started. For the second time since
waking up Harry found himself a little frustrated sexually.

"Hey! Why did you. What are you doing?"

Hermione just ignored Harry's question as she dropped to her knees in front
of him. She took his penis in her hand again, but this time it wasn't with
his arousal in mind, this time it was more so she could move it around,
examining the rigid flesh from front to back and side to side.

"It's so big!"

Any further curiosity on Harry's part as to what his partner was up to went
right out the window, as Harry focused on the three words guaranteed to pump
up any man's ego, no matter how powerless he feels. And like just about any
man, Harry wasn't content to hear those words just once, so he sought some
confirmation from his lover.

"It is?"

"Oh absolutely! Look! It's bigger than both my hands!"

With that assertion Hermione's left hand joined her right to envelop Harry's
unit. She stacked one fist on top of the other, covering almost the entire
shaft and leaving an inch or so of his penis poking out beyond her fingers.

"See?"

Yes, he did see. He saw two hands that were so soft they almost felt like
silk holding his wand with just the head and a bit more still showing.
Whether this actually proved anything, Harry didn't know. He'd always
considered himself rather average in the size department. Other than his
own, he didn't have any more experience with erect penises than Hermione
did. So he really didn't know if he was "big", or if it was just the young
witch's innocence talking. Even so, it was really nice to hear, especially
given the sincerity behind it. Hermione obviously believed what she was
saying. He just hoped that she would continue to feel this way after they'd
been with other people. Not that he was competing with anyone in.

"What are you doing now!?!"

Dropping one hand from its place around his member, Hermione had just started
to lean in when Harry's rather alarmed cry stopped her. She looked up at him
and in a tone that made it clear that she thought her intentions were
obvious, said, "Not to worry Harry. I'm going to fellate you. Relax. From
what I understand it's quite pleasurable for the man."

Fillet me? Isn't that when you rip strips of meat off. With her teeth!?! She
calls that "pleasurable"?!? How the... Ohhh! She means. couldn't she have
just called it that instead of being all proper? No. Of course not. This was
Hermione after all. Harry would have shaken his head with affection if not
for the fact that at that precise instant Hermione's lips made their first
contact with his glans. Pleasurable. Yeah. That's the word.

"Unnnnnnnhhh..."

For the next few minutes that was about the only sound Harry could make as
Hermione started to investigate his penis with her mouth, although he did
experiment with other octaves and some variations on the theme with each new
touch of her lips. As might be expected, she limited her initial explorations
to simple kisses to the head and the area immediately surrounding it. The
thought of actually taking Harry's member into her mouth was a bit scary to
her, she had absolutely no idea what to expect, so it was natural that she
would want to work up to it slowly.

Which was perfectly fine with Harry. Never having received oral sex before he
also had no clue as to what was really involved, except for an instinctual
desire to feel his manhood surrounded by something warm and wet. The third
component that would usually be necessary for a totally satisfying experience
didn't even cross Harry's mind. At first. For the moment he was too busy
trying to remember if he'd ever encountered a spell that could freeze, or at
least prolong, time. With very little success at that. Focusing on anything
other than what Hermione was doing to him with her tongue was becoming
increasingly difficult.

The knowledge of which would please the bushy haired girl immensely when
Harry told her about it later. The whole point had been to bring Harry
pleasure, not to have him become frustrated because he hadn't paid better
attention in their Spells and Potions classes. And at the time this was
going on Hermione hadn't even really gotten rolling yet. She'd started off
just kissing the spongy flesh of the tip of his penis but soon she grew
bolder and was giving him little licks. The constant moans and exclamations
that were issuing from Harry were very encouraging and as she grew more
comfortable with the situation the licks became longer and she started to
work her way up and down his shaft, giving him the occasional nibble as she
went. As he had earlier when he was sucking on her nipples, Hermione did her
best to vary her attentions, trying to mix the licking and the kissing enough
to keep Harry from growing bored.

As if that was even remotely possible.

Thinking of the time Harry spent working on her breasts gave Hermione an
idea. A ridiculously daring idea. She had really enjoyed having him suck her
nipples, and if she found that enjoyable then it stood to reason that perhaps
Harry would also like it if she did that to him. It seemed to Hermione that
this might possibly increase the pleasure of the experience for him. After
all, just because people commonly used the word "blow" to describe what she
was doing didn't mean there was actually any blowing involved. Even someone
as new to all this as Hermione knew that. But, could she possibly be brave
enough to take Harry into her mouth and...? Hmm. Well, there was only one way
to find out.

"Unnnnnnnhhhhhhhh... Hermione... that feels..."

"Mornin' Harry. And a Happy Birthday ter yeh lad!"

Hagrid's voice boomed up from the grounds below Harry's window. Oh, not now!
Not Now!! Blast! Why did we have to do this right by the window? Though he
really didn't want to shift his attention away from Hermione, Harry could not
ignore the man who had been his friend since his first day at Hogwarts.
Thankfully, it was only his attention that had to be shifted. There was
absolutely no reason Hermione had to stop what she was doing and when she
gave the slightest indication that she was going to get up to greet Hagrid,
Harry put his hand on top of her head and pushed down, holding her in place.
Luckily for him the brown eyed girl accepted this rather peremptory act on
his part without complaint. Of course it might have been better for Harry if
he had let Hermione say hello to the half giant. Try as he might, staying
even partly focused on what Hagrid was saying and not on the young woman
performing oral sex on him for the first time was not easy. Made all the more
difficult when Hermione decided a little payback was in order and started
taking even more of his shaft into her mouth.

"'Lo Hagrid. Unnhhh. Thanks. And thanks, ohhhhhh, for the gift also. I,
unnnhhh, really appreciate it." Harry hadn't seen Hagrid's gift in the pile
downstairs but he knew without question that one was there. In the seven
years he had known the hirsute man, Hagrid had never failed to give Harry
something for his birthday.

"Ah, so yeh saw it did yeh? And did yeh like it? I had the devil of a time
gettin' the little buggers ter sit still long enough ter get `em in the box."

"Um, no, I, unnnnhhhh, haven't opened it yet. But I'm sure I'lllllll love it,
um, them." Harry was suddenly curious, in a concerned sort of way, as to what
Hagrid had gotten him that gave him such difficulty getting them into the
box. The giant had never given him anything dangerous, well, not really
dangerous, but his idea of what made a suitable gift did tend to run to the
exotic. And somewhat monstrous.

His oversized friend started to say something else, but Harry's divided
attention was abruptly drawn back to his lover by a particularly effective
swipe of her tongue along his shaft followed by the first touch of her lips
to his testicles, "Guuuuhhhhhhhh."

These recurring groans and moans emanating from Harry had caught Hagrid's
attention and he was growing concerned that his young friend was not feeling
well. Harry had been under a great deal of stress for, well, years now, and
the impossibly large man wouldn't have been at all surprised if it was
starting to take its toll on him. But, to have it start on Harry's birthday,
of all days, just didn't seem fair to Hagrid. He knew how much Harry looked
forward to this day, it just wasn't right that it should be ruined because
the lad was coming down with something.

"Are yeh all right then Harry? Yer not soundin' so good."

"Oh Hermione! You're killing me!"

Somewhere between a whisper and a strangled cry, Harry's not to be taken
seriously exclamation wasn't intended for Hagrid to hear. But the boy wizard
really wasn't thinking about his gigantic friend at that precise moment. He
really wasn't thinking about much of anything actually, except how
unexpectedly amazing oral sex was turning out to be. He closed his eyes and
turned his head up toward the ceiling, concentrating solely on the young
woman kneeling before him.

But Hagrid had heard him. Had heard the words at least even if they didn't
appear to make much sense to him at first. Hermione? Killing Harry? Besides
the fact that it didn't sound much like Harry was in any real danger.
Hermione? Hagrid would sooner believe that he himself would harm the boy than
that sweet young girl. Harry meant the world to her, it was obvious. In fact,
if anything, Hermione considered herself one of Harry's protectors. Since
their return to school the pair had spent just about every waking moment
together, technically even the non-waking ones as well, so the idea that
Hermione would hurt him in any way was. Come to think of it, where was
Hermione?

"Harry. Is Hermione up there with yeh?"

Whether it was in response to Hagrid's question or just an unconscious need,
Harry opened his eyes again and looked down to his lover. Hermione was
already looking up at him and they stared at each other, gazes locked, while
the bushy haired girl continued to work Harry's member with her lips and
tongue.

"Harry?"

The lack of response from Harry was starting to make Hagrid uncomfortable.
He didn't really believe the younger man was in trouble, but there was
definitely something going on. He wasn't sure what, although he could almost,
but not quite, put his finger on it, and he was sure that Hermione was
somehow involved. Where was the girl? And why hadn't she come to the window
to say hello. That wasn't like her. Hermione was many things, most of them
loveable, some of them less so, but one thing she always was was polite. Of
course it was possible that she wasn't in the room with Harry, but then why
did he keep glancing down to something out of Hagrid's sight? And why wasn't
Harry wearing a shirt?. In and of itself this wasn't terribly strange, but
the lad didn't usually parade around in front of everyone half-naked.
Particularly since he and Hermione had started sharing.

"Oh yes, Yes! Just like that!"

Slowly, not too slowly, but not too fast either, Hagrid started to assemble
the pieces of his puzzle. It took some time because the answer lay in a
direction Hagrid was not exactly accustomed to going. He was used to Harry,
and Hermione too for the most part, being involved in all sorts of strange
and difficult situations. But nothing like this! Why they were just children!
Hermione couldn't possibly be more than. And Harry, Harry was just turning.
17. Both of them were 17. Both were of age in the eyes of the Wizarding
world. If just. He turned beet red as he reached the obvious conclusion and
with a hurried good-bye he excused himself and started to walk quickly away.
It was a few minutes before Harry even noticed that his friend was gone.
Oops! Harry realized that he and Hermione had probably embarrassed their
large friend and he was sorry for that, but it wasn't as if either of them
had set out with that in mind. Oh well. There would be time enough to
apologize to him later. For now though.

"Oh Hermione! Don't stop! Don't stop! I'm almost there! Almost there!"

Almost there? Almost. There!?! At that Hermione did exactly what Harry was
begging her not to do. She stopped what she was doing and removed the young
man's penis from her mouth. When she started things it was with the idea of
seeing to Harry's obvious need, giving him pleasure and taking some of her
own if any was to be had. Clearly she had succeeded in what she had set out
to do, though it was also evident that she hadn't thought things all the way
through. Bringing Harry to orgasm while they were making love was one thing,
but getting him off while he was in her mouth, well that she wasn't even
close to being ready to do. The idea wasn't a complete turnoff for her, but
it had already taken nearly all the courage she could muster just to follow
through on her plans for Harry's birthday. There just wasn't any left to see
her through to the end Harry wanted. Not today anyway. Besides, if she did
everything all at once there wouldn't be anything left for Harry's upcoming
birthdays. No, much better to leave something to surprise him with in the
future. Like when he turned 25. Hermione thought she could be ready to do
what he wanted by then.

Until then however. Hermione sat back on her heels and continued to look up
at Harry. She left her hand on his unit just in case she needed to quickly
point it in another direction. One that was not anywhere near her mouth.
Without the stimulation she had been providing she was pretty sure that
Harry's climax was no longer imminent, but she decided she'd rather not take
any chances. In this case forewarned was definitely forearmed. Harry, of
course, was not quite as sanguine about her decision.

"Oi! Why did you stop? I was about to."

"I know Harry!! On me!!"

Well, not exactly on her, more like on a specific part of her, but somehow
Harry didn't think that Hermione would appreciate the subtle difference, "Oh
Hermione! I'm sorry! I wasn't thinking!"

"Well." Hermione got up off her knees but kept her hand loosely wrapped
around Harry's shaft. "I suppose I can forgive you Harry. After all, it was
my idea in the first place. I can't really blame you for wanting to see
things through to the, um, end."

That was very true. It had been Hermione's idea. And an excellent idea at
that. But Harry could understand why his pretty young friend would be
reluctant to finish him off the way they had started. That was kind of...
advanced wasn't really the word Harry wanted but he did think that doing
something like that should probably wait until they both were a little more
experienced with each other. More comfortable. Figure a few weeks. That
should give the two of them enough time to feel secure enough to try some
new things. But until then.

They were pretty much back where they had started a short time earlier. Harry
standing by the window with Hermione facing him, her right hand keeping a
somewhat firm grip on his penis, having taken on the responsibility for
stroking him that he himself had been seeing to earlier. The previous minutes
had done absolutely nothing to diminish Harry's erection and he found that
the light tugging on his shaft was actually pulling them closer together.
Close enough so that all he had to do was tilt his head down. They started to
kiss softly while Hermione continued to caress Harry's member with her hand.

"Ummm, Hermione, yeah. Just like that. Just keep doing that and I'll..."

On her hand? Was that supposed to be any better? Actually, it was. And
Hermione knew that. But she was still a little unnerved by her near miss a
few minutes earlier and the thought of having to deal with what she was sure
would be a sticky mess didn't sit well with her at the moment. Again she
stopped what she was doing mere seconds before Harry was ready to climax and
without really considering it practically skipped backwards out of his reach.

Harry looked at his lover with wide eyes, his astonishment momentarily
masking the frustration of being brought so close to orgasm for the second
time in such a short period only to be denied his release. It was only then
that Hermione realized exactly what she had done. Her hand shot up to her
mouth and she looked back at Harry, her own eyes gone slightly round in
surprise. Had she really done that? Had she really left Harry hanging yet
again? A laugh forced its way out from behind her hand. Left him hanging.
Somehow the phrase seemed oddly appropriate for Harry's condition. The short
laugh was followed by another, then yet another, until Hermione stopped even
trying to suppress the giggles, allowing herself full reign for the first
time that night.

Giggling? She's giggling? Thinks it's funny does she? I'll give her something
to laugh about! Intending to give his bushy haired friend some payback for
abandoning him before he had climaxed, twice!, then laughing about it, Harry
took a step toward Hermione with some merciless tickling on his mind. As soon
as she saw him move the young witch gave out a little shriek and started to
run away. The room they shared was not all that big and the four-poster beds
did not provide much in the way of cover so Hermione headed for the stairs
quickly followed by Harry. Only a week earlier and they had been in a similar
position, Harry chasing Hermione as they laughed and screamed wildly, only
that time it had been up the stairs and both of them were fully clothed. This
time of course it was down the stairs to the common room and the pair were
completely naked.

Upon entering the room Hermione looked about for some place she could use to
get away from Harry. Hiding was out of the question, he was only a few feet
behind her, so the best she could hope for would be to get behind something
that she could keep in between them until one or the other of them gave up,
or Harry trapped her. She decided to head for her favorite overstuffed chair
opposite the fireplace but before she could reach it Harry caught up to her.
The only real defense she had left to her to escape the torment he had in
mind would have been to get on the chair facing him, using her hands and legs
to keep Harry's long and dexterous fingers away. But she didn't even have
time to do that and instead of getting on the chair with her back to it she
virtually dove onto the wing back with her head down and her knees up on the
seat.

Generally speaking, not exactly the best position to be in when you want to
avoid being tickled. Especially when you are completely naked.

However, if you do want to avoid being tickled and your potential tormentor
is a 17-year old young man, head down and butt waving in the air might just
be the way to go. Especially when you are completely naked. 17-year old males
do tend to find a bare rump a tad distracting.

Technically, Hermione had achieved her immediate goal, stopping Harry from
tickling her, if only for the time being. But now she would have to deal with
whatever it was he decided he was going to do instead. She could only hope
that it would be something she would find much more agreeable.

Things changed so suddenly that Harry almost literally skidded to a stop when
he saw Hermione launch herself at the chair. He had intended to follow her
onto the chair, expecting her to turn on her back so she could continue to
fight him off, but ended up on his knees when she went face down, bottom up
instead, his head just inches away from the brown haired girl's shapely rear.

"Phwoar!!"

Hermione heard Harry's lust-filled exclamation and felt the tiny puff of
air that accompanied it on her skin, followed closely by the goose bumps
it raised. She was aware of the exposed position she was in, and the
unprecedented, not to mention unobstructed, view it provided her lover, but
instead of moving to cover herself or do anything to protect her modesty,
Hermione fought the urge and tried to stay perfectly still, allowing Harry
this first in a lifetime chance to explore her most private parts in a most
personal way.

On a day of many firsts, such as Harry was having, it might be understood
that some firsts were more memorable, even more exciting, than others. A
first kiss. A first look. A first caress. His first intimate touch. His
first time. Each of these things, had they happened at different times,
would have been a significant event in the black haired boys life. Something
to be savored and remembered always. But having them happen all at once,
albeit over the space of a number of hours, made it difficult to see each of
them as the important individual milestones they really were, the magnitude
of some experiences unfortunately overshadowing others. So if Hermione had
asked Harry at the end of their day, what he had liked most of all the things
they had done together, she probably would have been hoping his answer would
be "Everything", giving equal weight to both their first kiss and their first
time making love, and all things in between. This is just the nature of young
women. How Harry would have answered, had he actually been asked, would
depend on how in tune he was with his lover at the moment of the question.
It's possible he would answer "Everything", giving Hermione the response that
she desired, whether she would admit it or not. And to some extent he
probably would even believe it. Believe that everything that they had done
that day was of equal consequence to him. But even if he had, it is a
reasonably sure bet that when he stopped to think about this day, to actually
think about what they had done, his first, and last, thoughts would have been
about the sex. It would be his first time making love that made this birthday
so memorable for him. This is just the nature of young men. Even so, even
with that taken into consideration, seeing Hermione as he was right then, in
a way he had never, ever dreamed of, seeing every inch of her in such
graphic, blatant detail, seeing the arousal she was obviously also feeling
and then filling his lungs with her scent as he took one deep breath followed
quickly by another, this Harry would have to rank as a very close second.

Made even closer when looking turned into touching.

Lifting his right hand Harry let it fall gently onto Hermione's bare skin,
feeling a slight shudder when he did. He left his hand on her buttock,
caressing it with his thumb, giving both of them a few moments to adjust to
this new development. This was a unique position for Harry, and not just
literally. Sure it was his first time ever seeing Hermione, or anyone for
that matter, displayed so explicitly, and from this particular angle, but it
was also the first time where he was in a position to decide what course of
action he and his lover would take next. Up to that point Hermione had
initiated all their sexual contact, had decided when, and how, they would
proceed, from the first kisses to the actual lovemaking. But this time, Harry
got to be the one to make the first move. And he knew exactly what that move
was going to be.

Of course Harry wasn't the only one to find themselves in a unique position.
Hermione wasn't exactly in the habit of stripping off all her clothes and
then flashing her derriere at anyone who happened to be passing by. No, this
was something that she felt with all honesty would quite likely be a rare,
perhaps even exclusive, event. So she waited with what she thought was
admirable patience, read breathless anticipation, for Harry to decide how he
was going to carry on.

He started with another light touch. Okay, so that wasn't exactly the first
move he had been planning, but to Harry it just seemed rude, somehow vulgar,
to just sort of dive right in. In a manner of speaking. After all, that
wasn't what Hermione had done, now was it? No. Hermione had taken her time
to warm up to. things. She had moved with deliberation. Had shown self
control. Self control, yeah, that's what Harry was doing. He was displaying
self control.

Unfortunately, self control was not one of Harry's stronger traits. Harry
was more the impulsive type, especially when he was overly agitated or
excited. He wasn't as bad as when he was younger, flying off the handle at
the slightest provocation or going off by himself into all sorts of unknown
dangers, but he could still be reckless from time to time if his excitement
got the better of him. And while his current situation was not exactly the
same as, say, opening the Chamber of Secrets, and what he proposed doing
wouldn't normally be called reckless, he was extremely excited and he was
trying to contain himself. Again, with little success.

So while Harry tried to fight the urge to throw himself into the thick of it,
it was a losing battle. After only a few strokes of his fingertips against
Hermione's sparsely covered labia he could no longer restrain himself and
without any warning he went from light caresses to plunging his face into her
bare bottom, his tongue extended as he took his first licks of his lover's
vulva.

The force with which Harry planted his face against her flesh pushed Hermione
forward into the back of the chair and a gasp escaped her lips. The bushy
haired girl now found herself in the same position Harry had been in just a
short while earlier, experiencing something she had heard and read about, but
with no way of knowing what to expect from it. The book had mentioned
cunnilingus, but nowhere did it say that it would feel like Harry's tongue
was two feet long by a foot wide and that it was connected to a live wire! It
also felt like she had just grown about a million new nerve endings and they
were all being stimulated simultaneously. Harry's tongue was touching her
everywhere!

To Harry however, his tongue didn't feel like it was nearly big enough. There
were so many different things clamoring for his attention that he could not
choose just one. There were contours to be traced and folds to be explored
and fluids to be sampled. Not to mention an opening to be gently probed. And
the taste! Harry simply could not believe how good Hermione tasted. Who knew
there was a spot on the human body that could taste that good! Harry didn't
know if a person could live on the liquids practically dripping onto his
tongue but he certainly wouldn't mind trying. But before doing that he really
would have to see about getting a bigger tongue.

Luckily for Hermione Harry would have to make do with his normal sized pink
appendage for the time being. Anything larger and she probably wouldn't have
survived. As it stood she was already having enough trouble handling the
sensations he was sending through her body with every swipe of the slick
organ. If not for the fact that she was boxed in by the chair she would have
tried to get away, to put some distance between her genitalia and the
wriggling demon invading it. Instead she reached back, hoping to use her hand
to guide her lover and get him to ease off just a bit. At least that's what
she thought she was going to do.

When Harry felt Hermione's hand land on top of his head he was unsure what
her intention was. At first she just left it there, resting with her fingers
loosely tangled in his hair, not really doing anything with it. So he did his
best to ignore it, assuming this was just another way for the young woman on
the chair to increase their contact, the desire to touch particularly strong
at such a time. If there was some other reason for Hermione to place her hand
on his head Harry didn't know what it was, and since she wasn't giving him
anything specific to work with, he continued to work his tongue in and around
the brown eyed girl's vagina.

A short time later Harry worked his way down to what would normally be the
top of Hermione's vulva , but given their relative positions was now the
bottom, and his tongue travelled over her clitoris for the first time. The
response was immediate, and Harry now thought he knew why Hermione had placed
her hand on his head. She increased her grip on his hair and yanked him
forward, pulling his face even tighter against her body. At the same time it
seemed to Harry that she pushed back against him, and he found himself
pressed up against her flesh so hard it was becoming a bit difficult to
breathe. This did nothing to prevent him from continuing to lick his lover.

It did however place some limits on what he could now do with his tongue.
Harry's style, unpracticed as it was, involved moving his head nearly as much
as his tongue. But with the death grip Hermione had on his hair, and the
force with which she was pressing his face into her, that wasn't really an
option any more. Instead he concentrated on the area that was available to
him, using his tongue to slash softly against and around Hermione's clitoris
over and over again. Hermione, who had been mostly quiet since the beginning
of this latest tryst, became increasingly vocal, her excitement at being on
the receiving end of oral sex for the first time having reached a fever
pitch.

"Unnhhh... unnhhh... unnhhh... Oh Harry... Oh Harry... Don't stop... Don't
stop... Don't you ever stop!... Harry... Harry... oh... ohhh... ohhh...
Ohhh!... nnnhhh... nnnhhh... HARRY!!!"

Suddenly Harry found himself experiencing the female orgasm in a very direct,
and unexpected, way. He couldn't feel Hermione's climax as he had when they
were making love, and he was in no position to see, much of anything really,
but he could hear it and he would swear he could taste it. Well, maybe not
taste it, but Harry was almost positive that Hermione got even wetter as she
climaxed, and instead of gently swiping at her clit he started to use his
tongue to gather up as much of this liquid reward as he could find.

Some while later, when Hermione's orgasm had mostly subsided, Harry found
himself wondering what to do next. It had not been all that long since they
were up in his dorm room standing by his window and the erection he had then
had not diminished in the intervening minutes. In fact, if anything Harry was
even more aroused than he had been and his penis was standing even prouder.
And this without having laid so much as a finger on it since he entered the
common room. Seeing his member like this reminded Harry of his own twice
denied climax and it occurred to him that the bushy haired girl still
kneeling on the chair owed him, and he was in the perfect position to
collect. He got to his feet behind Hermione, and taking his penis in his hand
proceeded to insert himself into her opening, sinking all the way to the base
in one smooth stroke.

"Uuunnnnnnhhhhh... Oh Harry... what... ahhhre you doing?"

"What does it look like? It's my turn innit?"

Harry's questions were meant to be rhetorical so he didn't wait for a
response from the brown eyed girl. There were certainly good reasons why
Hermione might not want to continue right then - hunger, fatigue, or a call
of nature to name a few - but other than those Harry could not imagine his
lover actually objecting to his obvious intention. And even though she had
questioned him, it was more a case of being caught by surprise than any form
of protest. Hermione was a little hungry, and she was pleasantly tired,
powerful orgasms just tend to have that kind of effect on a person, but she
was as open to continuing the lovemaking as Harry. Like her new lover,
Hermione was in this for the duration. So when Harry started to withdraw and
reinsert himself, Hermione made no further comment other than another long
moan of pleasure. Just then, the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open and
Professor McGonagall stepped into the room and looked around.

"Oh Potter, there you are. Hagrid said you were up. When you missed breakfast
we grew."

Grinding to a halt, Professor McGonagall's eyes widened abruptly as she
finally realized that Harry was naked. and that he was not alone. Hermione
had buried her head even further into the chair at the sound of the
Professor's voice but the curve of her naked haunch was still easily visible
over the arm of the chair to anyone standing by the entrance.

"Oh... Oh my! Dear me... Ahem... I see... I didn't... when Hagrid said you
were up, I didn't think... no matter... Oh my..." So this is what had Hagrid
so flustered. No wonder. "Well. When you are finished here. er, I mean done.
I mean. Ahem. When you are ready perhaps you and Mr. Weasley will join us
for."

At the mention of Ron's name Hermione's head popped up and she gave the
professor an outraged look. Mr. Weasley! Did she look like a Mr. Weasley!
Mr. Weasley had flaming red hair! Mr. Weasley had big hands, and big feet!
Mr. Weasley... was a Mister!! The last thing Hermione had ever expected to
be taken for was a Mister! Harry hadn't quite worked around to outraged yet,
stuck as he was on mortified at being seen almost completely naked by his
Head of House, only the previously mentioned curve of a naked haunch standing
between the professor and every inch of his glory. But after a few seconds
the professor's words sank in and he was able to move on from being mortified
at that, to being mortified that she thought he was doing it... in the common
room... with Ron!

Seeing Hermione glaring at her over the back of the chair with a look so
fierce it could give a basilisk a run for its money, the professor stumbled
to a halt again, "Oh. Miss Granger. It's you. Thank goodness. That is a
relief. Ohhhh. That would explain... Well you are both of age. Oh my. Perhaps
I should. I'll have the House-elves set up lunch for you and Miss Granger
here in the common room Potter. I imagine... er, that is, I assume... oh
my... an hour should be sufficient time for you... oh dear."

Gathering the remains of her by now seemingly tattered composure around her
Professor McGonagall finally recovered enough to look Harry in the eye and
say, "Lunch in an hour. And I expect to see both of you at dinner tonight at
8:00. You can't deny everyone a chance to wish you a happy birthday Potter.
I'll see that you're left alone until then."

With that the professor turned around and exited the common room the way she
had come in. She waited until the portrait of the Fat Lady had closed and she
was some way down the hall before she stopped and a small smile broke through
her usually stern demeanor. Oh, that was too rich! The look on Potter's face!
And Miss Granger! If looks alone could kill they'd be teaching a new
Unforgivable Curse at the school next semester. She tried to wipe the tiny
smile from her face with mixed results. She felt just the tiniest bit guilty
about what she had done, pretending she thought that Harry was with Ron
instead of Hermione, but, it was funny! It wasn't until she thought about
what Dumbledore would say if he ever got wind of it that she managed to
replace the smile with her normal detached look. But this only lasted a step
or two before the smile was back, and with it a few quickly stifled chuckles.
Dumbledore probably would have appreciated her teasing of the pair more than
anyone else at the school. He was known for his wicked sense of humor. Giving
in to the laughter she continued down the hall, happy that there was no one
else around to see this unusual display.

Meanwhile, back in the common room, Harry and Hermione were still in
relatively the same positions in which Professor McGonagall had found them,
except the bushy haired witch had now turned her head to look back over her
shoulder at Harry. They stared at each other in some confusion and more than
a little embarrassment for a period, but then the furrows in their brows
started to clear, until, after some moments more, there was a sputter of
laughter. First from Hermione, then from Harry.

"She was having us on then?"

"She had to have been Harry! There's just no way she could have thought you
and..."

"And she couldn't possibly mistake you for him. His bum is nowhere near as
nice as yours!"

Hermione rolled her eyes at that. She knew she was being teased of course,
and she came up with more than one comeback that could have turned the tables
quite nicely on Harry, but she decided against voicing any of them, choosing
to reply with a supremely dry "Gee, thanks." instead.

They shared another laugh, the gentle ripples of Hermione's body reminding
Harry that his even now very erect member was still firmly tucked into his
lover's vagina. Displaying the concentration that can only be achieved by a
young man having sex, he started to thrust his manhood once again into
Hermione.

"Harry! What are you doing!?!"

"I'm finishing what we started, aren't I?"

"Now?!? What about the professor?"

"McGonagall? What about her? She's gone."

"Yes, but what if she. unnnhhh. comes back!?!"

"She won't. Not today anyway. You... heard her... she'll see that we're
left.. unnnnnnhhlone."

"But shouldn't we... unnnhhh... stop Harry? What if... unnnhhh... the
House-elves arrive... to set... up... nnnnnhhhhhhh... lunch?"

"Then they're in for... mmmmmm... a show."

By this time Hermione was losing interest in trying to discourage Harry.
Persuaded by his repeated, and well executed, arguments, she turned her own
attention to the renewed feelings of pleasure flowing from her groin.

* * *

After they finished they went back up to the dorm room and waited for the
House-elves to bring their lunch. Neither one of them felt any incentive to
get dressed yet, so Harry waited until enough time had passed and then used
his Invisibility Cloak to go back downstairs to find that the elves had
indeed been there, and that they had left behind a large meal, including
many of his favorite desserts. At the direction of Professor McGonagall no
doubt. Either she was trying to apologize for interrupting them, or this was
just another way of wishing him a happy birthday. Probably a combination of
the two. He called for Hermione to come and join him.

Lunch was a chatty affair, the two of them talking almost constantly
throughout, stopping only to chew and swallow. They stayed away from serious
topics, choosing instead to talk about Harry's gifts, still unopened, doing
it, the weather, being caught doing it, twice, doing it some more, doing it
in different places around the castle, and Bill's wedding. It was during the
discussion of Bill Weasley's imminent nuptials that Harry finally mentioned
something that had been nagging at him almost since the day had started.

"I thought Ron would be here by now. Or at least I would have heard from him.
Guess he's too busy helping with the wedding."

"Oh Harry! That's not it at all! I'm afraid this is my doing."

"Oh c'mon Hermione! Don't be silly! How is Ron's not being here for my
birthday your doing?"

"It is Harry! Really! I sent him an owl a few days ago telling him that we
would be away from Hogwarts today and that we would see him at the Burrow the
day after tomorrow. But I'm sure I saw his birthday gift to you in the pile,
along with Ginny's and Mrs. Weasley's and even something from the twins!"

"Yeah, I saw them. So, you told Ron not to come today? You told him we
wouldn't be here?"

"Please don't be angry with me!"

"But why Hermione? Why would you lie to him?"

"I didn't lie Harry. I planned. Think about it! After all, if Ron was here,
it would make it rather impossible for you and I."

The puzzled look on Harry's face cleared instantly as he followed Hermione's
reasoning. Oh! I get it now. If Ron was here we would have to stop. I
wouldn't want to do that. And if I did have to do that I'd probably end up
resenting. No, it was better this way. This way they could spend the entire
day in the same manner they had spent the morning, indulging whatever desire
might strike them. And if Ron did find out and was a little hacked off by
the deception, then Harry could still get him that giant jar of Bertie Bott's
Every Flavor Beans to go with his new Firebolt. So where was the harm really?
He looked up at his lover and gave her a wide smile to let her know that he
was not angry, and that he understood. When Hermione saw Harry smile, the
worried look on her own face disappeared and an equally broad grin replaced
it. She didn't like misleading Ron, but there was just no way to work her
plans around him. This was something that she and Harry had to take for
themselves. Ron might not understand that at first, but Hermione was certain
that in time she could convince him that this was how it had to be.

Their lunch completed, they moved back upstairs to the dorm room to plan the
rest of their day. Part of the plan, in both of their minds, was sure to
include more lovemaking, but once they were stretched out on Harry's bed
they discovered that between the large meal they had just finished and the
vigorous, and frequently disrupted, sex before that, they were, for the
moment, sated. That, plus the fact that they were both still a little short
on sleep, left them content to simply lie there, kissing and talking
intermingling with stroking and caressing, until fatigue and their meal
caught up with them and they drifted off for a quick nap.

* * *

Harry awoke first a short time later. Seeing that Hermione was still asleep
he slipped out of bed to make a quick trip back down to the common room to
get them both something to drink. When he came back upstairs he did not find
the brown eyed girl in the same position he had left her in. Instead she was
on her stomach with her head hanging over the far side of the bed, obviously
looking at, or searching for, something on the floor. Like him, she still had
not bothered to dress, and was lying there fully nude, her legs bent at the
knees and her feet kicking slowly, almost idly, while she waited for him to
return from wherever he had gone. Harry put the glasses he had been carrying
down on a table near the door and stood there for a minute, just watching
her, drinking in the sight of her flawless form. Blimey! Would you look at
that. Who knew back when we first met that the bossy little girl with the
bushy hair and buck teeth would grow into this beautiful young woman.
Hermione had obviously always been smart. But now she was also confident,
assured and incredibly sexy. Harry loved everything about her, from her hair
down to those cute little feet. Even her back was sexy! And that bum, was
there ever one more perfect? Despite Harry's obviously limited expertise in
the subject he was still willing to bet not. Hermione was seemingly oblivious
to Harry's presence through all this, and the silent tribute he was paying
her body. She reached down to the floor, the motion causing said perfect bum
to be lifted off the bed a bit and providing the green eyed boy with a view
very similar, if not quite so close, as the one in the common room that
morning.

Before Harry even realized it he was moving towards the bed and his lover. He
couldn't have said what he was going to do when he reached his destination,
thoughts of sampling Hermione's various flavors again skipped through his
mind, but, as was not unusual for men of many ages, Harry found that his
penis was actually more awake than the rest of him. Exerting the power to
veto all other thought that only comes with the erect male member, Harry's
choice was made without any further input from his brain and he moved into
position in between Hermione's legs, using his knees to spread her own a
little wider.

Hermione didn't hear Harry reenter the room but she did hear him start to
move forward and felt the motion as he climbed on the bed moments later. She
smiled to herself while she continued to flip the pages of the book she was
browsing, certain that in just a second or two she would feel Harry's body
pressing against hers. Sensing him slide into place above her, she turned
her head to say something to him only to have the breath forced out of her
with a small grunt as he entered her. Well that was unexpected. Abandoning
her original thought, Hermione now turned toward Harry intending to tease
him a little about his newfound ability to hit his mark the first time
without any assistance from her. This was twice in a row now. But when she
saw the look of lust on his face she decided against poking fun at him just
then and settled for giving him a sexy half-smirk instead. Which didn't last
long. Harry had started to pick up some steam and his thrusts were forcing
more small groans from her. Later. There'd be time for teasing later.

But that particular later never did arrive. It took only a minute or so
before Hermione had completely forgotten about wanting to tease Harry, her
thoughts already focused on the pleasure he was giving her instead. This was
due in part to the position she found herself in, trapped between Harry's
body and the bed as she was there wasn't a whole lot else she could do except
concentrate on the feeling of Harry's member as it slid in and out of her.
But the arrangement was not unlike the spoon position they had made love in
before falling asleep the night before and Harry was again taking the
opportunity to really bear down and press his shaft against the front wall
of her vagina. It must have felt pretty good to the young wizard, at least
so Hermione assumed from his loud moans and grunts of pleasure, but to
Hermione, it was pure heaven. Her fists were clutching at the bed covers and
her cries, which had started out sounding completely normal, were rising in
pitch as time went on. Any higher, Harry thought, and the only things that
would be able to hear her would be the school's Thestrals. Fortunately the
brown eyed girl started to bite down on a fold in the blankets before she
reached that point.

Minutes, or maybe it was days, later Hermione let the blanket fall from
between her teeth and gave out her loudest cry yet as her climax struck.
Harry felt the contractions, but, even though he was still as excited as
when they started, and he had been pumping away persistently since then,
this time he was not undone by them. He was able to ride out this particular
storm, continuing to piston his hips in a steady fashion, waiting until he
knew that his lover's orgasm had run its course before doing anything else
to bring about his own. Hermione however had other thoughts on the matter.

"Lie down Harry."

If Harry had learned anything from the last dozen or so hours, it was to
follow Hermione's instructions when they were in the bedroom. Only good
things had happened when he followed her directions. He moved onto his back
on the bed, his head down near the foot and his arms at his sides, and waited
to see what Hermione had in mind.

When the green eyed boy was in position Hermione started to move as well,
getting up on her knees by Harry's left side. She paused there for a moment
without speaking, and Harry assumed, correctly, that she was a little
knackered and, incorrectly, that she intended to straddle him in the Cowgirl
position she had professed such a fondness for. So he wasn't surprised when
she started to swing a leg over him, but he was very surprised when it was
her right leg that she lifted and she ended up astride him facing his feet,
most of her weight resting on her left knee while her right foot remained
flat on the bed's surface. Harry didn't even have time to register his
surprise before Hermione leaned forward some, then reached down and took
hold of his member, pointing it more or less straight up and positioning the
head at her opening.

For the first time since they had become lovers Harry found himself in a
situation where he could watch, really watch, his shaft as he penetrated
Hermione. Every time before he had either been so focused on actually having
sex that he hadn't even thought about some of the more visually pleasant
details, or he had not been in a position where he could have seen anything.
Even earlier, down in the common room, Harry was so aroused by everything he
and Hermione had been doing beforehand, that he didn't pay the actual
penetration any mind. It was almost like their first time. One second he had
been kneeling behind Hermione, then the next he was already inside her with
no real concern for how he got there. And of course the next second Professor
McGonagall had been standing at the entrance, but Harry didn't want to think
about that. But this time. this time, between his position flat on his back
and with Hermione leaning forward with one knee raised, he was able to see it
all. See the head of his penis parting her lips and see his entire shaft
disappear as the bushy haired witch slowly lowered herself onto him.

Oh... My... God...

Or something like that. Hermione couldn't be sure. What she thought she heard
was more like "Oh!!! Mmmm. guhhhh. Grrr!", but the brown eyed girl could
understand if Harry wanted to invoke a power even greater than magic.

Whatever the mumbled first words were, there could be no mistaking Harry's
last utterance. It was a growl pure and simple. A growl that was part sheer
joy and part a voluntary attempt to manage his body's response to Hermione.
Between the physical sensations coming from his crotch, and the added
stimulus of seeing his member vanish inside his lover, Harry suddenly found
himself nearly losing control right then. A climax wouldn't be the worst
thing that could have happened, another interruption would be the worst
thing, but Harry didn't want things to end so quickly. He wanted things to
last. Not long, maybe just a few minutes more. Long enough to give him some
time to really appreciate the view. So he growled.

And it did work. Sort of. Growling is hardly the best way to delay
gratification, something Harry would learn in time, but he did succeed in
holding his climax at bay for a few seconds. Not the minutes he would have
liked, but long enough for Hermione, who had been peering at him unnoticed
past their coupled groins with a look of delight on her face, to take
several more long, slow strokes up and down his penis.

Perhaps if he hadn't already spent a fair amount of time pumping in and out
of Hermione and bringing her to orgasm, maybe then he would have been able to
hold off his own climax longer. Perhaps. But probably not. Men are visually
stimulated, this is a known fact. And Harry, though young, was still very
much a male of the species, and as such was as prone to sexual excitement
brought on by something he saw as any other man. It would be a rare young
man, no matter how jaded, that did not find the experience of watching his
member slide into a beautiful woman such as Hermione stimulating. Rare was a
word often associated with the Boy Who Lived, but not in this case. After all
too short a time watching Hermione traverse his penis, Harry came with a
long, and loud, moan.

Like Harry had only a couple of minutes earlier, Hermione did not stop moving
when she felt Harry's latest climax inside her. She still found it all
incredibly exciting, but after the fourth, no fifth, time it no longer caught
her by surprise and she was able to maintain her focus on what she was doing.
In this case slowly thrusting her hips up and down on Harry's rigid unit. She
planned on waiting until Harry's orgasm had subsided, and with it the
beginning of the end of his erection, before dismounting and taking up what
was becoming her normal position lying alongside him with her head on his
shoulder as they both recovered from this most recent round of lovemaking.
Except, Harry's erection did not seem to be in decline. A minute... then
another... and then another... and still Hermione was moving slowly up and
down Harry's penis. She knew he had climaxed. She had heard it and felt it
and, if she dipped her head to look down at her groin, yes, she could even
see traces of evidence from it. But Harry's member was still engorged. Was
that even possible? Apparently so. Hermione's eyes travelled up Harry's body
to his face, to find him staring at his swollen manhood with an expression of
astonishment even greater than her own. With a start he realized that he was
being watched and he lifted his eyes to meet Hermione's, a sheepish grin
coming to his lips as he gave her a shrug. Well, that pretty much sums it up.
With a mental shrug of her own Hermione started to move her hips up and down
once again. It was going to be an interesting afternoon.

* * *

They made it to the Great Hall for dinner with a few minutes to spare, even
though Harry had tried to dissuade Hermione, telling her that they could skip
it and explain their absence to Professor McGonagall in the morning. But
Hermione reminded Harry that there would be people other than the Hogwarts
faculty there, and they would be there for the express purpose of wishing him
a happy birthday, and that it would not be very polite for them to just not
show up. Harry reluctantly agreed with this and some minutes later they
joined their friends downstairs. There were some awkward moments at first,
Harry and Hermione both had a great deal of trouble meeting Professor
McGonagall's eyes when she greeted them, and Hagrid, every time either one of
them attempted to engage him in conversation the half-giant found something
spellbinding to stare at up near the ceiling. Hermione was just about to
comment on it to Harry when she got sidetracked by the arrival of Remus and
Tonks, thereby sparing the young man the delicate task of having to explain
to his lover why one of their best friends was currently unable to look her
in the face. And subsequently sparing Hermione from having to choose between
testing the spells that prohibited disapparating inside the school or keeling
over from embarrassment. As far as Harry knew there were no spells that would
allow a witch to simply melt on the spot, otherwise the brown haired girl was
sure to try that first.

Fortunately, there was no melting, or keeling, and no one tried to break the
enchantments that prevented disapparating. The awkwardness eased as the
evening progressed - well, it eased for them. Hagrid was still having some
difficulty looking at Hermione, but since he had had a fair amount to drink
by that point and was having some trouble looking at just about everyone the
brown eyed girl chalked it up to the alcohol and didn't think any more of
it - and Harry actually found himself having a very good time. Still, there
was someplace else he would rather have been and someone else he'd rather be
there with, so when the evening finally drew to a close he wasted no time in
saying his goodnights and with Hermione at his side hurried back to the
Gryffindor common room.

* * *

Hermione was sitting near the edge of the big sunken tub in the Prefect's
bathroom on the fifth floor. She was leaning back, her upper body propped up
on her elbows, and her feet were lifted toward the ceiling, her legs straight
and spread in a wide V. And she was whimpering. And moaning, and crying out
in pleasure. Harry, on the other hand, was doing none of those things. But
only because he was too busy for the moment working his tongue in, out and
around Hermione's vagina. Unlike the brown eyed girl, he was still in the
tub, positioned on one of the molded benches that ran along the outer wall,
his lower body turned to the left and then his head and shoulders turned left
again so that he was facing Hermione. Sort of. It wasn't exactly a
comfortable position to be in, but Harry barely noticed. The arrangement gave
him the necessary access to his lover, and for the time being that was all
that mattered.

Once back in their dorm Harry had been ready to make love again in either the
common room or upstairs in his bed. But Hermione suggested that it might be
nice if they were to go to one of the other places they had discussed as
possible alternatives during lunch, and since it was the time of evening when
they would customarily be preparing for bed anyway they settled on the
Prefect's bathroom. The idea of mixing a bath with sex appealed to both of
them a lot, so they set off for the fifth floor under Harry's Invisibility
Cloak. This wasn't strictly necessary, it was quite late and that part of the
castle was sure to be empty, but neither one of them relished the idea of
running into Filch, or Mrs. Norris, and having to explain why they were out
and where they were going. It might not be any of his concern, and school was
not in session so technically they were not bound by those rules, but it just
seemed easier to avoid the issue than to take on the cantankerous old
caretaker.

The short trip was uneventful, they didn't even encounter any of the school's
legendary ghosts, and when they were safely inside they quickly undressed and
slipped into the warm water of the oversized tub. Since neither one of them
had ever done anything like this before they were both unsure as to how to
begin and Hermione, inexplicably, found herself turning suddenly shy. They
had spent practically the entire day in each other's company, except for the
odd minute here and there, and the vast majority of that time had been spent
naked together, and a good portion of that time had been spent actually
making love, but somehow, being there in the Prefect's bathroom, and having
decided to go there for the primary purpose of having sex, was different. It
was bold. And daring. It was adult. And once there neither one of them really
knew what to do next. What do two people do when they've just sort of decided
they wanted to have sex? Lie down and just have at it? That might work for
some, but Hermione didn't think that would do for her. Fortunately, Harry was
just as uncertain as she about the proper way to commence. And when Harry was
uncertain he liked to take things slowly.

A kiss probably would have an excellent place to start but they didn't begin
there. Instead Harry reached out and took Hermione's hand in his, their
fingers intertwining and then releasing as they started to move their hands
lightly along each other's arm. They each watched their own hand instead of
the other's, watched as their fingertips traced their lover's contours, their
hands moving along similar paths, their bodies feeling similar sensations.

As they explored they were moving closer together, until there was almost no
space in between them, but still they didn't kiss, Harry coaxing Hermione to
turn around so that her back was to him instead. Now they were positioned
much as they had been before this whole thing had started, standing by the
window in Harry's dorm, before even their first kiss. The memory brought a
huge smile to Harry's face, unseen by his friend and now lover, and he bent
his head to nuzzle at her neck. Still not speaking, he reached behind him for
the soap and a sponge while he continued to snuggle with Hermione.

After the sponge was fully lathered Harry proceeded to wash Hermione,
starting by lifting her right arm straight out from her side and working his
way in. What followed was probably the single most sensual experience of
Hermione's life as Harry bathed every inch of her body, from the top of her
head down to her toes and everything in between. At times he used the sponge,
and at other times he relied solely on his hands, using his fingers to spread
the soap over Hermione's glistening skin. While he washed her, Harry
continued to place soft kisses on the bushy haired girl's body wherever he
could reach. Her shoulders. Her breasts. Her stomach. Even her elbows. For
the most part he kept his busses above Hermione's waist, and not
coincidentally the waterline, but that only lasted until he had covered all
the extremities and it was time to wash her lower body. For that Harry had
Hermione stand up in the tub, facing away from him. Things could have turned
momentarily awkward here, especially when he abandoned the sponge in favor of
using his hands, but his touch was so gentle, and he never stopped kissing
her body, that Hermione never felt even a second's embarrassment. Not that it
would have mattered, as moments later Harry's hands moved forward to an even
more sensitive part of her anatomy and all thoughts, self-conscious or
otherwise, were chased from her mind.

Having washed every other part of Hermione's body, there was nothing to
distract Harry from his current pursuit and he kept sliding his fingers
back and forth along her labia long after any pretense of bathing could be
supported. Even if there had been some small section of her skin that he had
missed it's doubtful that he would have stopped what he was doing to attend
to it. It wasn't going to be everyday that the young man had the opportunity
to caress Hermione in such an intimate fashion. In fact, there was no way of
telling when he might next have the chance, so Harry was resolved to take
full advantage of the situation while he could, for as long as he could.

This didn't last quite as long as Harry had imagined it would, though not
because he grew bored or his arm was getting tired or anything trivial like
that. And not because Hermione caused him to stop, though at the point Harry
did stop caressing her it was even money as to which would happen first, she
would reach climax or her legs would grow so unsteady that she could no
longer remain standing. Actually it was the latter condition that caused
Harry to stop what he was doing, as he noticed that his continuous fondling
of Hermione's vulva was starting to take its toll on his lover and he stopped
briefly to allow her to move into a more comfortable position.

That was when Hermione decided it might be best if she got out of the tub if
Harry was going to pick up where he left off. If the recent past was any
indication, Hermione's next climax would be rather intense and she didn't
think the slippery tub was the best place to be when it happened. So she
spread a towel on the floor behind Harry's bench and sat down on it with her
legs bent and her feet on the tub's edge. It wasn't long before she was
leaning back on her elbows and her feet were pointing skyward.

Harry knew immediately upon turning to face Hermione that he would not be
resuming his fondling of her sex right away. And it was the face part that
led him to this realization. The benches in the tub were low enough so that
when he was seated Harry could rest his head comfortably against the edge of
the tub, and therefore the floor, behind him. So when he turned around his
face was at floor level. The same level as Hermione's bum. And consequently,
the same level as that particular part of Hermione's anatomy he had been
washing so diligently. Harry stopped breathing and he felt his heart rate
increase as his eyes focused on Hermione's vagina. All of a sudden,
continuing his caressing of the brown haired girl did not seem quite so
important as it had moments before. Not when there was an opportunity to do
something that he knew for a fact would bring both of them even greater
pleasure. He lifted his eyes to meet Hermione's and gave her a wicked grin.

When Hermione saw how Harry was staring at her, and then saw the leer on his
face when he raised his eyes to hers, she blushed in spite of herself. She
was still not used to being looked at in such a frankly sexual way, but she
was getting there, and she forced herself to continue meeting Harry's eyes
even as she leaned back and opened her legs wider. Harry did not need an
invitation from his lover, but it was nice to see that she was receptive to
just about anything he might want to do. He lifted himself out of the tub
just enough to reach Hermione, and circling his left arm around her thigh
he used his fingers to spread her lips, then set to work with his tongue.

"Guuuuhhhhhhh... Harry!!"

It didn't take long after that first cry for the whimpering to start, and
even less time before Hermione's feet left the floor and headed towards the
ceiling. It may have only been Harry's second time performing oral sex but
he was already starting to refine his technique, and he continued to show
the same level of skill with his lips and tongue that he had demonstrated
the first time he had sucked Hermione's nipples. Except, when Harry had been
sucking her nipples the pleasure was nowhere near this intense.

However it wasn't Hermione's breast Harry was licking and nibbling and
sucking at, and the pleasure was that intense, and after only a couple of
minutes with her feet waving in the air the bushy haired girl started to
bring them back towards the floor, bringing her legs to rest on the green
eyed boy's back and slowly wrapping them tighter and tighter around him.
Hermione's hands came next, joining her legs at the back of Harry's head
and pulling him closer to her as she lowered her upper body to the towel
on the floor.

Another few minutes passed and Hermione's grip on Harry continued to
tighten, until, with one last sweep of his tongue, she reached orgasm. Even
by the fairly high standards already set that day this climax was relatively
intense, as Hermione's back arched and her hands and legs pulled Harry still
tighter against her. The young wizard was being squeezed so hard that he had
to stop what he was doing altogether. Which was really for the best anyway.
Any more stimulation to Hermione's clitoris at that moment would only have
been a distraction. So Harry rode out the orgasm and waited for Hermione's
legs to unclench sufficiently to move out from between them, which they did
soon enough. Once he could move again he pulled himself completely out of the
tub and arranged himself on the towel by Hermione's side in a reversal of
their customary aprs-sex positions. He waited to see if Hermione was going
to say anything, but the young woman just lay there on the floor, as limp as
a human body could be, with her legs straight and one arm by her side, the
other thrown across her eyes.

"Hermione? Are you awake?"

"No." Harry smiled when he heard this since the response was much too strong
for someone supposedly on the verge of falling asleep.

Still, Hermione's climax had obviously been intense, and loud, and there was
at least a small chance that she would drift off, if only for a short while.
But even that short while could be enough to see the end of Harry's birthday
pass and the one thing the young man could not, would not, do was let the day
end without giving Hermione some indication of how much it had meant to him.
Even if that indication did come while she was nearly comatose.

He leaned over, and speaking quietly so as not to disturb her, said "Thank
you." before placing a simple kiss on Hermione's lips.

But Hermione wasn't sleeping, or really all that close. She really had been
resting after what was quite the powerful orgasm. So when Harry started to
kiss her, she responded, the simple buss growing deeper and more passionate
in a flash as Hermione wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer.
After a minute or so Harry moved so that he was no longer on his left flank
but was back in a familiar position, poised above Hermione with her legs to
either side of him.

They continued to snog like this for a short while, until Hermione broke off
and looked up at her lover with a smirk and said "Someone's obviously ready."

"Well, yeah. But if you don't want to, or if you want to wait until you're,
you know, ready again, that's okay. I'll just." Harry spoke in a rush as he
hurried to assure the brown eyed girl that he wasn't pushing, trailing off
at the end when he realized that he really didn't know what he was going to
do if Hermione wasn't in the mood. He really was very "ready".

Luckily he did not have to find out. "No, it's all right. We can do it Harry.
But... can we..."

Hermione wanted to be face to face with Harry this time, but didn't want to
just come right out and ask, afraid that it would seem silly. But Harry was
still looking for a way to thank his lover for the amazing gift she had given
him. And he wasn't thinking only of the sex, but the whole day. Harry's
birthday's had certainly improved since he started attending Hogwarts, but
nothing in the past six years could ever compare to the day he had just spent
with Hermione. And even if he never had another day like it, he had this one.
This one amazing, incredible, fantastic, wonderful, astounding.

Without changing position at all Harry reached down and guided his penis into
Hermione's opening, leaving her with no need to finish her request. With a
shudder of pleasure that was by now becoming very familiar he started to move
his hips up and down, drawing his shaft in and out of his beautiful young
lover. He moved slowly, tenderly, his gaze locked with Hermione's as she
reached up to stroke his face. Their ardor was already building and Hermione
knew it wouldn't be too long before she would be fighting to get any words
out, and before that happened there was one more question she needed to ask.

"So Harry, how was your birthday?"

If Harry Potter had been asked to pick one word to describe his 17th birthday it would have to be,

"Magical."

* * *

Okay, so it's been a while since I've submitted anything. A long while
actually. I think I posted my last story to TSSA in December 2005. It really
doesn't feel like that much time has passed, but there you have it.

I started this story on March 9th and here it is, the middle of August and
I've just finished it. It took me about 4 weeks to write the first 17 pages
or so, and it took about 5 weeks to write the last 20. So that means it took,
did I mention that I started this March 9th 2006? So it took me 15 months
to write the middle 15 pages. Advanced Math tells me this averages out to 1
page per month. A page per month. Of course that's not really the case as I
spent a good portion of that time just sort of staring at the screen, unable
to make any progress at all, not even a paragraph. And other times I was
typing like a demon, getting 2 or 3, sometimes 5 pages a week done. Of
complete and total crap. I am not exaggerating when I tell you that I
discarded over 100 pages from this story. On the plus side this is, for now,
my longest story, by page length at 52 pages including foreword and
afterword, and most certainly by word count, clocking in at around 38,000.
This tops what used to be my longest story by about 8,000 words, but only 2
pages. I assume this is because there was far less dialogue in this story.
Why am I telling you this? No particular reason. Just one of the things that
popped into my head while typing this and I tend to use the afterword for all
sorts of random shit.

Anyway, back to my problems writing this - I've known since the very
beginning where I wanted to take this story, how many sex scenes I was going
to have and how they were going to play out, pretty much everything I wanted
and needed to make this a relatively quick and painless effort. Hah! I think
I've mentioned before that I am accustomed to these stories taking on a life
of their own and sometimes taking me in directions I had not intended, and
for the most part I have been happy with the way things worked out. But not
this time. This time I repeatedly ended up going down paths where I simply
did not want to take the characters. Usually because it was not how I thought
the characters should respond, and still be recognizable as Harry and
Hermione. I wanted to play out my fantasy of bringing Harry and Hermione
together, in a way I hope is at least a little consistent with the books and
movies. AU versions that act and talk like the characters we know, but adult
enough to get a little, okay a lot, horny and act on it. But I kept ending up
in places where the characters either didn't act like I thought they should,
or I wrote something that seemed fairly innocuous at the time, but pages
later it would require some sort of response that I simply did not want in
this story. We all know that there is no lack of conflict between the 3 major
characters in the books, but for a sex story set in a 24 hour period I did
not think there was any room for, or reason for, such conflict. Yet I kept
ending up there again and again. So I would have to delete what I wrote that
took me there and start over. Sometimes that could mean backtracking 5 or 6
pages. Once it was even more. A lot more. I came pretty close to just
abandoning the story when that happened. Of course now that it's finished
I'm happy I didn't. I like these characters too much to just walk away from
them.

The good news, from where I'm sitting anyway, is that I seem to have found a
way around the writer's block that paralyzed me during the writing of this
story. As I've mentioned before, I'm easily distracted when writing. TV,
stereo, hell I've even balanced my checkbook rather than focus on writing on
more than one occasion. And I've tried hard to fight these distractions, with
little success. Internet access is the absolute worst for me. I can be typing
merrily away, hit a point where I can't immediately see what a character says
or does next, and instead of thinking it through I'll think `Hey, I wonder
what's happening on CNN about now'. Now sometimes this works and while I'm
concentrating on something else a way out of my problem will pop into my
head. But most of the time it's not that simple. Especially if I'm stuck
trying to transition from one scene to another. For me transition scenes can
be the most difficult to write. Probably because I want the transition to be
believable within the context of the story. It's not enough to just have the
characters jump into bed just because I want them to. There's got to be some
sort of supportable and believable reason for it. Again, within the context
of the story. And sometimes coming up with a satisfactory reason is not easy.
So I procrastinate. Something I've become really good at. And then it takes
forever, or 17 months, whichever comes first, to finish a story. Oh well. At
least my checkbook is balanced.

But, for the moment, things seem to be flowing again. When I first started
writing I was able to pump out 40 pages a month. And while I highly doubt
I'll ever see that kind of output again maybe I could do 10 pages a month.
Believe me, after getting 15 usable pages in 15 months I will take 10 pages
in a heartbeat and with a smile. What those 10 pages will be about I will not
say. In the past I've indicated that I was going to work on this story or
that and it's almost never come to pass that the story I promised was the one
I delivered. So I've stopped promising. Except for this - I have not given up
yet on anything that I've started, so if you're waiting for the next chapter
in something I will get to it, eventually. And if you're waiting for a story
about some hottie that I've said I was going to write about in the past well,
I'll get to her too. Eventually. What might change, or might not, is the
storyline for said hottie. One of the problems with taking so long to write
any given story is that something that was topical at the time I thought of
it is probably no longer topical. For example, I've always wanted to write a
story about Lindsay Lohan's vacation in Miami with Wilmer Valderama, but that
was what? 3 years ago? Would anyone besides myself still be interested in
that? I tend to doubt it. And Lindsay Lohan today, I'm not interested in
writing about.

Random noise - Obviously this story includes, and does not include, words
that do not, or do appear in most of my other stories. Quite the revelation
huh? My story has words. Anyway, the observant reader, who has read other
stories of mine, will notice that I do not use any of the more commonly used
slang words for sex acts or organs. In fact I don't even use cum, opting
instead for the less common? more common? come. This is not because I've
decided to clean up my act - and don't get me started on the whole topic of
certain words being "dirty". As if... - but because these words have no place
in the Harry Potter universe. The characters do swear, but they do so off
screen, or off-page if you prefer, and to me nothing would pull the reader
out of the story faster than having them talk in a way they obviously never
talk in the books or the movies. Now words that I do use here, and rarely -
except for my Charmed stories - use elsewhere are words like witch and
wizard. I point this out only because while typing I found out that MS Word
2007 does not have any synonyms for these words in its thesaurus. Not
sorcerer or warlock or enchantress. Nothing. In fact, most of the time when
you type "witch" it tries to tell you that there is an error in the grammar
and you should replace it with "which". And obviously these are not remotely
similar words. I don't know why this is so, but I suspect this is another
case of political correctness gone wild in our society. Talk about
ridiculous. Witch witch witch witch witch. There, I said it.

One last note about words, or phrases, or in this case slang. Since this is
a Harry Potter story, and since Harry and his friends are all British, I've
tried to make the dialogue reflect that fact by using British slang where
needed. I used a variety of sources for this - I'm obviously not British and
while I have collected a few phrases here and there from Britcoms and the
like, I needed a lot of help in using some of the slang properly, and even
more help in removing some idioms that I didn't even realize were idioms.
And I'm sure I still missed some. Most of my sources were online, but one
source, while technically also online, actually has a real person behind the
keyboard and I would like to thank him for helping me keep Harry and Hermione
sufficiently British. But not so British that they can't have hot, sweaty
sex... ?... Oh lighten up, it's a joke. Anyway, thank you Exintaris for your
help. It is much appreciated.

Okay, that about wraps it up. If you've read this far, thanks. And if you
have read this far I assume you've already finished the story, don't think
too many people read the afterword before reading the story, so I hope you
enjoyed it

Until next time,

Bill

And remember, Feedback. Feedback. Feeeeeedback. Please.

    

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