Story setup: Voldemort died the night he killed Harry's Parents. No Horcruxes, and Harry was raised by Sirius Black. Hermione was sorted into Ravenclaw, never became friends with Harry and Ron. Her Mother is dead, and her father is NOT a dentist, but still Muggle. And glamorous Hermione. She will still have faults, just being frumpy won't be one of them. That's been done to death. This will be the setup for most of my Harry Potter stories.
I made Thorfinn 2 grades higher than Hermione in this. (His final year) Hermione has a super early birthday as well, so she is only a little over a year behind him in age. (Get what I am saying?)
Thorfinn is based off of Brock O'Hurn or Chris Hemsworth, take your pick. Hermione is the model I have on the cover of this story. I can not find her name! Only the Getty Images she is featured on.
Thorfinn came awake slowly, blinking the sleep from his eyes. His neck ached a bit from the way he had been leaning up against the railing. He rubbed at it with his free hand, stifling a yawn. It took him a few moments to notice the girl standing in front of him.
"Why, hello there little bird."
She was wearing the blue and copper of house Ravenclaw, and Thorfinn let a slow sleepy smile spread across his lips. His gaze ran up her long legs, to her skirt, up her flat tummy. Her chest was covered by long curly dark coffee colored locks, and it felt like a stone was in his throat once he realized who stood in front of him.
"Oh bugger…"
It was the Granger girl. The Swotty Ice Princess of Ravenclaw. Meeting her gaze, Thorfinn let out a sigh. Her eyes were as dark as her hair, and absolutely huge, with long lush dark lashes.
"Hello Rowle."
"Hello Granger, fancy seeing you here. What brings you up to the 7th floor staircase?"
She gave him a quick once over, her face not giving anything away. He was at just a slight bit (very small) of a disadvantage at the moment. But never one to bow to pressure, he simply leaned back casually on the stairs. Lounging, yes, lounging as if he hadn't a care in the world.
"Well, you see, I was actually on the 4th floor when I found this…"
She pulled out a wand from a small black leather bag that had 2 G's on it. A bag, that looked much too small to hold a full length wand. His wand to be exact.
"Ah, Perfect! Thanks for fetching that for me Princess."
Reaching out to grab his wand, she quickly went down a step and to the side from him, just a hair's breadth out of reach. Letting his hand fall he sighed, of freaking course she wasn't going to make this easy.
She looked him with those big dark mahogany brown eyes of hers.
"Imagine my surprise when I performed a homing spell to find the Owner and it led me straight up, and the beacon line glowing yellow showing the owner wasn't that far away. At first I thought it had to be a younger student, because any Wizard over 5th year should have enough power to summon his wand from that distance..."
She paused and finally her mask cracked, the corners of her mouth lifting up the barest bit. Thorfinn huffed, but kept his mouth shut, glaring at the insufferable little brat. Tall though she may be for a Witch, he was taller still, and being a step down from him, only brought her to eye level.
"And then I find you here."
She looked down to his feet, which were both sunk into a step, as well as his right hand, which he had tried to use to help get himself out, only to end up catching that in the step as well.
"I have to say, I never knew there was a trick step on this staircase."
Thorfinn kept his mouth shut. There wasn't a trick step on this damn blasted staircase, he was not going to share the actual reason he was here though. After having completed a his, ah, personal going away project. He found himself in a bit of a hurry to get back down to the dungeons. Only to have the staircase jolt and move, almost knocking him over. In his frustration he had kicked the banister, which didn't seem to take kindly to being treated in such a way, and so he found himself sinking into the worn steps. Stupid sentient castle.
His wand had dropped out of his pocket during the whole escapade, and clattered down the moving staircase and off the ledge. Normally, it wouldn't have been a problem to call it back as she said. She was silent then, raising an eyebrow at him, waiting. He merely shrugged, leaning back again, as best he could, considering the position he was in. Doing his best to look nonchalant.
"That's an awfully nice story Darling, now if you could be a dear and just hand over my wa-"
"You hair." She interrupted.
"Wha- what about my hair?" He used his free hand to run through his locks, a bit worried. Thorfinn was definitely a bit vain about his looks, especially his hair.
"It's white. You almost look like a Malfoy, if it wasn't for your tan."
"Hey now! No need to get nasty." Thorfinn spat back. Imagine being compared to that spoiled pointy faced git. Ugh!
She giggled at that, while rolling his wand through her fingers.
"Hair losing its color and turning white, a sign of magical over extension. Your running on empty, not even able to do a simple summoning spell to retrieve your wand. I've read of it before, but never had a chance to see it myself. Quite fascinating."
"Yeah yeah, what's it gonna take to shut you up and get my wand back Sweetness? As you can tell I'm a bit tired, and would really like to make my way back to my bed, so if we could hurry this along."
Still playing with his wand, she moved to stand in front of him again, her stance wide.
"You have two options Mister Rowle."
He looks up at the young dark haired witch. Her face a mask of calm again.
"Option one, you tell me what you have done to drain your magica core down to nil. By the way, how long will that take to recover from? Have you done this before?"
Shaking his head, Thorfinn chuckled at the pretty, if annoying, Raven in front of him.
"Not a chance Princess, aint happening."
She smiled then. Thorfinn didn't think he had ever seen the girl smile before, or at least he never paid enough attention to her to ever notice. It was a bit of a mean smile, showing all her teeth. And jeeze, she had some pointy looking canines. That's when it hit him, two things hit him actually. First the realization that she knew he would not accept option one, and second, he was hit, quite literally, with a spell. The bitch had used his own god damn wand to pin his one free hand to the step he was sitting on.
Looking down at his arm, he flexed and reached down to the depths of his magical being, but there was nothing. The inferno that usually made up his core, was nothing more than a small candle lit flame now. Any other night, unbinding himself, even wandless, would not have been a problem. But tonight, after his earlier activities, he was as good as useless.
Looking back up at the witch in front of him, letting out a snarl, he opened his mouth, to yell, to berate her, to scream in frustration. He had quite the temper, everyone knew that. One of his biggest weaknesses, It had always been too easy to set him off into a rage.
Before he could get anything out, she was in his lap. Straddling him, her arms looping over his shoulders, her hands in his hair, and her mouth on his. She was kissing him, and there was no hesitation on his part, he was kissing her back. His quick anger may be his weakness, but women were his strength. Kissing, touching, fucking. There had never been any awkward kisses for him growing up, no fumbling shaking hands unable to unhook a bra, no premature endings during a roll in the sack. How some men were natural fliers, Thorfinn Rowle was naturally made to please women, and take pleasure from them.
Her plush lips kissed him sweetly, playfully, then forcefully, and he gave as good as he got. Her mouth was delightful, and tasted of sugar quills. Her legs straddling him, her core pushed up against him, her body melting into his. Fuck! The witch had fooled everyone, Ice Queen indeed! She was not made of frost and ice. No she was made up of the same fire as Thorfinn. He could feel it, her body pressed against his, her lips and arms on him, her magic rising to the surface. She was hellfire made flesh, and it tugged at his momentary depleted core. There was a sameness there.
He kissed his way across her jaw to her ear, nipping on her earlobe, making her body shudder in the most delightful way on top of him.
"Unbind me witch, I need to touch you."
With a small mew of a moan she shook her head. Bringing her own lips to his neck, she nipped that special sweet spot, where his neck and shoulder met. He felt the sting of those sharp canines of hers, and he was hard as a fucking rock. She rolled her hips down onto him, driving him mad.
"Unbind me Princess, I need to taste you. I need-"
"You need what?" She pulled away from him. Grinding herself down on his erection again and again, she arched her back, and rested her palms behind her on his knees. Her legs on either side of him, wide open. Her skirt had raised up, just an inch away from showing him everything. He knew his mouth was gaping open in shock, she was a fucking vision.
Smiling at him, she brought one hand to her neck and slowly trailed it down over her chest, squeezing one of her breasts through her shirt.
With a growl, he struggled against his binding.
"I need to bury myself in you."
Her breathing was coming in heavy pants, her eyes half lidded. She liked hearing that, no, she fucking loved hearing that, he could tell. Oh fucking hell, who would have fucking thought that the swotty, stuck up, prissy Ravenclaw had this in her?
Her hand wandered down lower, past her stomach, in between her legs, lifting her skirt that last bit out of the way and giving him a perfect view between her long shapely legs.
"Oh fuck me…" It came out of him a whisper.
She was wearing blue panties, made of some sort of see through material. He could see her lips clearly, the most perfect pussy he had ever laid eyes on, and she was all bare. No hair at all. He had heard of course, rumors that muggle-borns were hairless down there. He had never thought it true, but there it was in front of him. One long manicured finger, rubbed over her see through knickers, between her lips. The material getting slightly darker, her wetness seeping into the fabric. Thorfinn let out a moan, the smell of her arousal hitting him.
"Granger, fuck. You gotta let me go Princess, please."
"Hmmm, never thought I would ever hear you beg Rowle. But as sweet as it is, I am going to have to decline. Tonight I get to do all the touching."
She closed her eyes, and leaned her head back, the tips of her long hair brushing against his knees. Now she had 2 fingers running over herself. She let out a sigh, working herself over good. Thorfinn couldn't look away. He had bedded many witches in his Hogwarts career. Had fucked them in beds, broom closets, empty classrooms, hallways, and secret passages. He had fucked their mouths, their tight pussys, and even managed to convince a few witches and wizards to take him in their most forbidden of spots. He had touched them all over, tasted every inch of skin, squeezed and manhandled. He was far from a virgin, or a novice. But he had never had a woman masterbate infront of him before.
His own breathing was coming out strained, watching her fingers slowly move the thin flimsy fabric out of the way, and give him his first clear view of her pretty little cunt. Fuck but it was perfect! Perfect pink little lips she spread open, wet with her dew. His mouth watered at the sight.
She ran a finger over her little button, and soft little moans started coming out of her, her body squirming on top of him.
"Thats it Love, keep going, let me see."
A tiny rasp of a moan escaped her throat at that. Moving her finger down slowly slipping it inside of herself. She gasped ragedly, and added a second finger not even a moment later.
"Fuck, good girl, fill yourself up. Let me see, let me see baby girl."
She thrust her fingers in and out of herself, biting her lower lip hard. She kept her moans low lest they be caught. Moving her hips in rhythm with her fingers. Her body on his lap, undulating like a snake across hot sand.
"Now touch that hot little clit for me baby-girl."
Running her fingers up her slit, she circled her clit, before pinching her little button, letting out a tiny cry of pleasure.
"Fuck me, Granger…"
And with that, she plunged her fingers back into her tiny wet hole, angling her hand so her palm rubbed against her clit as she did so. Straightening her body and pulling out of being arched backwards over his lap. She continued to ride her fingers, as she threw her free arm around his shoulder and buried her face in his neck.
"Your doing so good Princess, ride those finger-"
"Rowle." It came out a low gasp, her lips against his ear.
He was panting, he was fully clothed and hadn't even laid a finger on the Witch yet, his cock straining against his pants. Seeing her like this, hearing his fucking name whispered in his ear, her voice low with want. He was almost ready to blow his fucking load.
"Ro-Rowle!"
"Ah fuck!" He moaned as she panted his name one last time and then she was biting down on his neck, hard. Her fingers pulling at his hair, her body shuddering on top of him, and then he came. He came like a damned geyser bursting, like a fucking 4th year getting his first over the pants hand job.
Both of their chests were rising quickly, as they came down from the high. She pulled back from him, licking her lips, his neck stinging. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but she brought her fingers up. Her sopping wet fingers, that she had just road to completion in his lap, and thrust them in his mouth.
He moaned as he licked and sucked her sweet juices off her long graceful digits. Tonguing them, making sure to get every last drop.
"This morning, you were on the pitch playing a game of pick up Quidditch."
He paused, his fingers still in his mouth, caught off guard. Quidditch? Yeah, he had been on the field this morning, playing a random game of pick up with the guys.
"My private study nook in the Library overlooks the field. I touched myself while I watched you fly."
His mouth dropped open. Her big dark eyes sparkling, a wicked smile on her lips as she pulled her fingers from his gaping mouth.
She slowly and shakily stood up from his lap, patting down her school skirt, looking prim and proper again in a matter of moments. The only give away to what just happened being a sheen of sweat on her neck, and a healthy glow about her.
"You don't know what you have started my little Eagle. Now that I have had a taste, I will come to collect for this little stunt."
Grabbing her tiny little purse, and his wand from where she dropped them, she shrugged her shoulders while looking about her, making sure she wasn't forgetting anything.
"There is only a week left before graduation for you, I'm sure I can manage to stay out of your grasp for a few days."
The Witch underestimated him. Sure there was only a week left, but classes were finished, and she couldn't hide away in her tower forever.
"By the way Rowle, you know the best part about all this?"
She bent down her big eyes level with his.
"No one will ever believe you."
And with a quick kiss to the tip of his nose, she dropped his wand on his lap and went on her merry way. He just stared at her retreating form, his mouth slightly parted in shock.
Hermione had made it down 2 flights of stairs before she heard a big belly laugh erupt above her. A small smile of her own bloomed from her lips. He was being a good sport about it after all.
So I wrote this as a one shot. But there is obviously more to the story. Was going to see if this got popular at all, and if anyone else wanted to read more. Do you guys want to find out why Thorfinn's core was drained?