Ironically I couldn't sleep so I started writing and ended up with this little one-shot.
Few minutes after finishing I was fast asleep... turns out that this story is a cure for insomnia.
Harry could not get to sleep, however hard he tried.
His first guess to why he could not sleep would be that only days ago he had fallen asleep as Harry Potter but woken up in his dream as a snake, bent on killing Arthur Weasley.
The countless amounts of people who told him it was not his fault, and in fact his 'gift vision' saved Mr Weasley's life, did not comfort him in the slightest. For starters he knew how he had felt as the snake, not just what it was thinking and seeing. No, he had wanted to bite Arthur. The one man who could have probably convinced him of his total innocence had not done so, and therefore Harry still lacked confidence in himself.
Not only, Albus Dumbledore had ignored Harry at every turn, sending lackeys out to keep him from doing anything idiotic.
So yes, the very vulnerability of his sane mind could be the issue of his sudden insomnia. However Harry continued searching for other reasons, more to try and distract himself in the hope of lulling his brain to sleep.
Of course there was his surroundings, the dingy depressing walls of Grimmauld Place probably wasn't the best decor for a good night's sleep, however this had not been a problem during the summer holidays.
No, those two reasons were not what had Harry lying on his back, trying to count the patches of mold in place of imaginary jumping sheep.
Even Ron's snores could not be blamed as his best friend currently had his face smothered by his own pillow, drowning out all noise from his otherwise loud sleeping friend. Besides even if Ron's snores were audible Harry had slept through worse in the boy's dormitory at Hogwarts.
Of course, Harry knew all these reasons were desperate attempts at finding another excuse as to why his body would not shut down. The reason he needed an excuse; the fact the real reason was too much of a problem for him to confront at this moment of time.
He sighed, counting the 27th mold patch, and rolled over to his right.
He wished he hadn't.
As he rolled his leg happened to swing out and brushed against a rather soft material.
Hermione's Pyjamas.
Harry groaned, it was like an electric shock, his stomach lurched as a tug on his navel encouraged the contact with the soft material.
Hermione had crept into the boys room only 10 minutes ago, muttering something about needing some company before pleading with Harry to let her slip into his bed. Harry, who couldn't resist Hermione's pleading look, pulled back his quilt cover before even thinking of the implications.
For starters Harry's bed was a single. Perfect for one, two at a squeeze, but not for someone who desperately was restraining themselves from trying to touch the second person in any shape or way.
Harry's leg cramped at being held so still and tense that it involuntarily stretched itself, once again brushing the back of Hermione's leg.
Harry frowned; he really didn't want Hermione waking up to his leg touching hers inappropriately. God knows what she would make of the situation, and Harry really didn't want to explain his way out of that mess.
Rolling back to his original position, Harry attempted to keep his legs as far from Hermione as possible. Although in his clumsy attempt at maneuvering himself, he managed to brush his knuckles across a rather soft, curved part of his friend.
Harry froze, knuckles still resting on Hermione's bum. While his stomach leapt for joy, his mind reeled. What if she woke up now? He was sure she would have fallen asleep by now and she gave no indication at still being awake to suggest otherwise.
Harry gently pulled back his hand, breaking the contact. At least he thought he had, but suddenly his knuckles were once again flush against Hermione.
Harry was groaning inwardly, frustrated now, not in anger but... Well safe to say he was not getting to sleep any time soon.
Using what little space he had in his bed, Harry once again rolled over so he was facing the back of Hermione's head, careful to miss the mop of curls. He then shuffled as far away as he could, removing all temptation from his path. Now he could just wait for his body to grow bored and hopefully fall asleep, or for the sun to rise. Whichever came first.
What came first however was a small grumble from Hermione's sleeping form.
Stopping short of calling her name as to not wake her, Harry propped himself up on his elbow to try and peer over at his friend in the dark. She had sounded like she was in pain, and he wondered if that was the reason she had wished to not be alone at the moment.
In the faint glow from a streetlamp outside Harry could now see the pale flesh of Hermione's shoulder, and his eyes traveled up towards her neck. Her skin glimmered, and Harry found himself licking his dry lips before he could stop himself. His eyes then flicked downwards, and Harry realised that girls did not sleep in bras, or at least Hermione didn't. And girls pyjamas were rather loose fitting.
Harry felt a tighter tug in his abdomen and he only just held back a moan at the sensation. Lying back down Harry tried his best to rid the image of Hermione's bare chest from his mind, but just as Snape continued to remind him, Harry was terrible at clearing this mind.
Closing his eyes helped, or so he had hoped.
The pressure that suddenly appeared on his tight Pyjama bottoms however did not.
Harry's eyes flew wide open, and a small groan escaped from his throat. Was that?
Hermione had shifted in her sleep and was current pressing up against Harry's increasing erection.
His body was positively on edge, and even counting slowly to ten did not help calm him down at all.
The pleasant curve of Hermione's bum was cupping his throbbing erection. He desperately needed to move away before he began to think even more inappropriately about his best friend, but he was afraid that any more friction would really lead him down a slippery slope.
Could he wake Hermione up? Make an excuse that he needed a drink of water or something? Escaping before she noticed his predicament.
While Harry was busy thinking of a way to escape his body was very much enjoying it. Hermione moaned in her sleep once more, making Harry jump, and involuntarily pushed his hips closer to her sleeping figure.
He was sure Hermione would wake up now. He screwed his eyes shut, waiting for her to turn around and slap him or knowing her throw a hex his way. He was holding his breath so intently that it took him a few seconds to register the rocking sensation on his hips.
Hermione was rocking up against him. Once at first, as if it was an innocent mistake, but slowly the movement continued, with less time in between each action.
Warmth was now spreading over his abdomen as the soft touches from Hermione sent shivers down Harry's spine.
Harry wasn't sure if it was these shivers, or encouragement from Hermione's rocking hips that made him thrust his hips against her, but the sweet, quiet groan that escaped Hermione's lips was completely satisfying.
Using this groan as consent Harry thrust again, her hips rocking back to meet his at the same time. This time they both couldn't hold back the guttural sounds.
Knowing that the wise thing to do now would be to try and speak to Hermione, Harry was suddenly glad that he was not a wise man. Instead, he placed his hand upon Hermione's thigh in order to pull her hips back to him with more force.
He continued this for several minutes, feeling content at the sensation on his arousal. Hermione had made no move to turn around, and it was almost as if they were purposely ignoring each other, aside from their moving hips.
The next move was, to Harry's surprise, made by Hermione, who reached behind her and grabbed Harry's hip, halting his thrusts. Then she slowly pushed herself upon his arousal, rotating her hips in a circular motion this time.
Harry's head rolled backwards, as Hermione worked on him. She'd shifted so his erection was pinned at the very top of her inner thigh, and as she rotated her hips her leg muscles were softly massaging his tip.
Harry wanted to join back in, and pushed up ever so slightly, his erection pressing up against her groin. Hermione's movements stilled, and Harry suddenly panicked wondering if he had gone too far.
And then swiftly, as silent as anything, Hermione twisted round, swinging her right leg over Harry, and pushing him onto his back. Harry couldn't see her face in the dark, but he certainly felt the friction as she hovered her hips just so she was lightly pressing on his erection.
And then without warning she closed the gap completely and put her full weight onto Harry, rocking her hips once again.
Harry gasped, feeling rather embarrassed at his rookie expression.
Hermione knew he had never experienced this kind of touch before, although he was unsure if the same applied to her. She certainly wasn't acting as if it was her first time, as she continued to tease Harry, lifting her hips before lowering them unexpectedly at different intervals of time. Once or twice Harry's hips bucked up to meet hers, earning him a few fast bounces.
Harry's body was riding on adrenaline, his mind had been halted from over thinking the situation and his hands were automatically roaming over Hermione's thighs and waist, although it was distracting to have her cotton PJ's always in the way.
As Harry felt his restraint begin to slip over his arousal, Hermione seemed to sense his change.
She supported her weight on her knees, and slowly rested her hand over the bulge in his trousers to cup his erection. Her hand, dainty as it was, squeezed along his length, earning her a few involuntarily bucks of his hips. As she reached the base of his erection through his trousers, she then stroked one fingernail back along the length, digging through the cloth and earning the loudest groan yet from Harry.
His body not use to this touch gave way and his restraint was lost. He felt warm, wet liquid burst from his tip and filled his pants uncomfortably full.
He hadn't noticed his uneven breath, and had to take several deep long breathe through his nose. In this time Hermione had climbed off him, and to his relief muttered a quick cleaning spell.
Neither of them said a word as Hermione lay back on her small side of the bed and Harry remained on his back, no longer caring about moldy patches or the feeling of biting others around him.
It was only when one loud snort managed to escape Ron's pillow that Harry even had the horrified thought of what he and Hermione had just done next to their sleeping best friend.
Even as Harry's brains whirled with plenty of new thoughts, his eyelids began to close, and soon he was welcomed by dreams in which Hermione kept him very occupied all night.
In the morning she was gone, although her pillow, smelling of green apple with a hint of cinnamon was still warm to the touch.
Downstairs at breakfast Harry gave his best 'relaxed' smile at her, and she greeted him in her typical Hermione fashion, peering over a rather hefty book, before Molly overbearing as usual, began piling plenty of food on a plate for Harry, breaking any further interaction with Hermione.
Over breakfast Harry desperately tried to work out signs that last night had not been a dream, when he felt a small hand on his thigh, hidden from sight by the table. The pressure was soon gone, but it spurred Harry on to find the best excuse to push Hermione into the next, empty available room.
He believed he owed her a favour.