So this is just a lovely smut oneshot nonsense thing I wrote to get rid of some writer's block. Enjoy.
"You're back awfully late."
Harry jumped, turning and backing into the dormitory door he'd just shut. His green eyes were wide behind the fringe of his dark hair and thick glasses and he could only stare for a moment.
"H-hermione! What are you doing here?" he stammered hurriedly, running a hand through his already mussed hair as he dropped his school bag beside the door. He strode over slowly, regarding her suspiciously. She had been acting odd ever since she and Ron had broken up after two months. Hermione, he knew, lived to please, lived to perform. But he had never expected the top girl in their class to fall so far after being dumped for Lavender Brown. Granted, Lavender had a great rack, but she was no Hermione.
"Just came by the see you," she said, shifting her position on his bed, "is that so bad?" Her usually neatly pulled-back curls were askew and some had escaped her ponytail and hung in her face. Her dark brown eyes were even darker in the uneven, fleeting light. She stretched her legs out a bit more before daintily kicking off her shoes.
"Hermione, what are you doing here?" he repeated, leaning on one of the bedposts. He shoved his hands into his pockets and stared at her over the rims of his glasses. He knew she wasn't just here to chat.
She pouted for a moment and he took the chance to admire her looks. She had developed well, not as impressively as Lavender Brown, perhaps, but still very nicely all the same. She had a nice figure; well-developed breasts, slim waist and stomach, and long, luxurious legs. He snapped out of his thoughts when she changed her position again so she was kneeling on his bed. He raised an eyebrow.
"Why are you here?" he repeated.
She sighed dramatically, crossing her arms moodily.
"I don't want to be in the girls' dormitories while Lavender and Ron are snogging it up. Is that a crime?"
"Hermione, you're Head Girl. You have your own dormitory," he reminded her, "And that doesn't explain why you're in the boys' dormitory, in my bed."
She pouted again, looking up at him petulantly before she replied, "Well, Harry, it's lonely in the Head's dormitory when it's just me. As for why I'm in your bed, I see no reason why not." She smirked, leaning forward. "Unless you object, of course."
He couldn't help but appreciate the view of her chest her new position gave him, thanks in part to the low neckline of the white school shirt. He swallowed, shifting his eyes back up to her face again.
"Hermione, you shouldn't be here," he forced out, taking his weight off the bedpost and crossing his arms. He didn't want her to leave, especially not when she was just sitting there and he wanted nothing more than to keep her there for an hour… or so.
She scowled, brows pulling together. She crawled toward him across the bed, predetorial look in her eye.
"You want this, Harry. And I want this. So what's the problem?" She reached up and grabbed his tie, pulling his head down. "What's holding you back?" Before he could reply, her lips covered his, nipping lightly, teasing. His hands went to her hair, one settling at the back of her neck, the other sliding down her back. His tongue brushed her lips lightly as her other hand knotted in his hair. Her lips parted, inviting him in like a lethal poison blossom, and he didn't hesitate. His tongue probed into her mouth and brushed over her tongue, trying to draw out a reaction. The battle of tongues that ensued was slow, hot, and heavy. He moaned quietly into the kiss, letting his hand slide further down her back, and pulled her body flush to his. Both of her hands went to his shoulders, hanging on to him when he moved.
He was just thinking about stopping her when she started trying to get his shirt off. He hopelessly tried to resist the delicious temptation of her lips and she almost succeeded in unbuttoning the garment before he pulled back, but she kept going on his neck.
"Hermione… Hermione, you need to… You need to st-stop. Ah, we need to stop," he managed between pants.
"Why?" she purred, sliding his shirt off his shoulders. He let it fall, forgetting his resistance in his lust and raging hormones.
He covered her lips with his, beginning to undo the buttons of her own shirt as their mouths made contact again and again. He started pushing her back on the bed, sliding her shirt off her shoulders. She flipped them so she was on top, straddling him. Her hips pressed into his and he groaned at the friction. But when she started undoing his belt, he pulled back again.
"'Mione… 'Mione, we need to stop," he insisted, holding her wrists to stop her hands. "What are we doing?" he asked beseechingly, wondering if it were possible to turn back from the forbidden.
"Do you not want to, Harry?" she asked, voice a silky purr, as she rolled her hips against him, "Because I think you do." She rolled her body again and he let go of her wrists, roughly grabbing her hips.
"Hermione, stop. We need to think about this. You're smarter than this, Hermoine."
"Are you saying I'm stupid for wanting this?" she demanded, crossing her arms over her bare stomach, "Or are you just projecting."
"See, this is the Hermione I know. Quick-witted, funny… You haven't been yourself. Be you again. Be logical about this," he said, expression soft as he took one hand from her hip and cupped her cheek. She leaned her face into his hand, closing her eyes for a moment before letting out a low sigh.
"I suppose you're right," she said, arms falling uselessly to her sides, "I just don't feel like me anymore. I thought brains were more important than looks, but I was wrong. I've been replaced by that blonde bimbo, Lavender, so there must be something wrong with me. And if it's so… disagreeable for you to be intimate with me, then I know it's true." She went to get off of him, but he grabbed her arm, keeping her there.
"I didn't say it was 'disagreeable', as you so eloquently put it, and you know all that isn't true. As much as I'm ashamed to say it, Ron is a git and only thinks with his dick. If it has breasts and will let him near it, there is a guarantee he'll go after it. That doesn't mean there's something wrong with you; it means he's an arse. Hermoine, you're smart, funny, and you've got an amazing right hook." She blushed and he smiled. "And you're modest, but you're stubborn. Hermione, you're just amazing and you're my best friend." He sighed. "You're my best friend and that's why this is so… weird." He hurriedly added, "I mean, not that it's weird, it's just-"
She put a finger over his lips, smiling softly.
"Harry, I get it. We're friends. Just friends. And friends don't fuck friends."
He stared openly. Profanity from Hermione Granger? Unheard of! But then again, she never snogged anyone without restraint, or exposed herself, but there she was, half undressed in his lap, her lips swollen from their kisses. Maybe she was full of contradictions now… She laughed at his expression, laying her arms over his shoulders.
"Then again, who says we have to be just friends?" she asked, eyes glittering mischievously. His face was level with her breasts and she almost laughed again at the color that rose in his cheeks.
"Hermione, what are you doing?" he asked skeptically. She didn't answer, kissing him softly as her fingers ran through his hair. This kiss was sweet, the kind only lovers shared. His hands drifted up her waist and around to her back, clumsily unhooking her bra. He didn't let her break the kiss when she slid it off, pressing their chests together again. Her breath caught and his lips ghosted down her neck, pausing over her pulse. Her hands ran down over his back, a shiver running down her spine at the feeling of taut muscle. She tilted her head, giving him more access as her fingertips traced up his arms and over his shoulders again. He pulled back to admire the mark he'd left on her perfect skin with a smirk. She caught his lips again, pulling their bodies as close as possible. He started fumbling with the zipper at the side of her skirt, but she slapped his hand away and stood, pulling him up with her. She finally pulled off his belt as he started on her skirt again and she'd just gotten his trousers undone when he let her skirt fall from her hips. She shoved his trousers down and pushed him back toward the bed. He stepped out of the offending garment and spun them before pushing her back onto the bed. He was on top of her again in an instant. She could feel how hard he was and smiled.
"No more protests?" she teased, running her leg slowly up the back of his calf. He didn't answer her, kissing down her neck to the tops of her breasts. Her back arched as he nipped the sensitive skin and she knotted her hands in his hair. His hands slid down her waist and settled on her hips, playfully pushing her panties lower. Her breathing grew more and more uneven as his lips moved downward and he was pushing her panties lower and lower until there was really no point in having them anymore. She untangled her hands from his hair and banished her panties and pushed his boxers down, letting him deal with them. She gasped when his mouth closed over her left nipple, the amazing sensations making her whole body want more. Her hand slid over his dick lightly at first, drawing a low growl out of him that made her desperate for even more, then with more and more confidence. He finally released her nipple and propped himself up on his forearms, looking down at her through lust-clouded eyes.
"You're one evil angel," he growled, smile pulling at his lip.
"Then do something about it," she panted, giving his dick one last squeeze. He grabbed both of her wrists and pinned them above her head as he positioned himself at her sex. With one thrust, he entered her all the way and both gasped. She fought his hold on her wrists, but he didn't let go, capturing her lips in a fiery kiss like their first. His thrusts were slow and deliberate, her moans of pleasure silenced by his lips. Her hips pushed up against his, urging him to go faster. He willingly obeyed, speeding up until he was pounding her into the mattress. Their kiss broke apart when she sat up a bit so he hit a different angle.
"Harry… Fuck, yes…" she moaned, head tossed back. The bed creaked loudly under their frantic thrusting, but neither paid it any mind.
"Ah, Hermione… 'Mione, you're so tight," he growled, letting go of one of her wrists to lift her hips. She had just opened her mouth to reply when he hit that spot and she screamed. Afraid he'd hurt her, he immediately stopped.
"Merlin… Harry, do that again," she begged. He grinned, happily thrusting into her again. She screamed again, making goose bumps rise on his skin. Her nails raked down his back and he hissed, the heady sensation of pain and ecstasy making him breathe heavier. He could feel his orgasm coming, fast, but before he came, her walls tightened around him and she let out and ear-splitting scream. He pounded into her until he came too, weight falling onto his forearms that held him off her body.
Both were panting heavily and covered in a thin layer of sweat. He pulled out of her and rolled onto the small bed beside her. Automatically, she curled into his side, her head on his chest.
"That was… amazing," she finally said, looking up at him. He was still getting it through his head that he'd had sex with Hermoine Grander; Head Girl, his best friend, and his best mate's ex. He decided that all that didn't really matter right then.
"Mmhmm," he replied, kissing the top of her head. She yawned quietly and he knew it was the most adorable thing he'd ever see.
As they both groggily dozed off, it crossed his mind that he probably should have cast a silencing charm, but then again, what did it matter? With that last thought, he fell asleep, his best friend turned lover in his arms. No "I love you"s, no awkward demand for affection.
Feel free to tell me whether it's crap of it's the best damn thing you've ever read. =3