Read & Review & No flames & I am not J.K. Rowling & enjoy
Harry awoke from yet another nightmare. After Ron had left him and Hermione alone Harry had frequent nightmares throughout the elapsing weeks. He wanted to curse Ron for leaving. What else could he have expected? Didn't he think, even for a moment, that Harry just might not have a clear idea what the plan was? Harry had told him and Hermione everything that Dumbledore had told him and even then it took Dumbledore himself to track down a single Horcrux. What made Ron think that the others would be any easier?
Harry shifted on his cot, punching his pillow quite violently before trying to rest his head back on top of it. He wanted to spit on Ron's name, tear the title of "best mate" metaphorically from Ron's grasp. How could Ron believe that he didn't care about the Weasley's, the people that were the first to treat him like part of a family? It was preposterous! Of course he cared. For Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, for Bill and Fleur, even though the latter was only recently inducted into the family, for Charlie, and for Fred and George, who lost his ear trying to rescue Harry from Privet Drive. But most importantly, Harry thought as his mind began to settle, for Ginny. He couldn't count how many times he thought of the youngest Weasley child, wishing for nothing more than to hold her in his arms as he laid in his cot on nights he couldn't sleep, just like this. Somehow he knew that if only he could bury his face into the back of her neck and smell the scent of her hair he'd be out like a light.
No…for all the mental cursing Harry did, he couldn't blame Ron for acting the way he did. Part of him wanted to do the same exact thing. Harry sighed, pushing himself up on his cot. Checking his watch, it was still forty-five minutes until he changed watch shifts with Hermione but he couldn't go back to sleep. He decided he'd relieve her early and hopefully the cool night air would ease his mind, even if it was just a little.
Swinging his legs over the edge of the cot, Harry slipped on his trainers. He didn't bother tightening them up cause Hermione still had one more watch before they set off again for the day, meaning Harry had one more chance to try and sleep before they set out. Harry stood up, stretching his arms over his head before shaking himself loose. He headed to the opening of the tent, about to poke his head out to tell Hermione to take a break when a sound reached his ears.
Harry froze, straining his ears to make the sound out. It sounded like…whimpering, and judging from the direction the whimpering was coming from Harry only had to guess to know it was Hermione. He sighed, resting his head on the tent entrance. He wasn't surprised, honestly. Hermione was taking Ron's departure even harder than he was. He had found her crying almost every night and it hurt Harry terribly when he could think of nothing to make her feel better.
He was about to push the tent flap open, to step out with his usual emotionless mask and pretend he hadn't noticed, to let her hurry inside to hide the fact that she had been crying, when another sound made him stop just as fast. Punctuating the whimpering was a soft moan, the kind that made Harry feel suddenly hot under the collar. He waited another couple seconds before he heard another moan, followed by the subtle sound of heavy panting.
Now Harry found himself rethinking his plan of action. He should probably leave Hermione be, let her relieve the pent up stress she was no doubt carrying. But he found himself unable to turn away from the sound, let alone go back to his cot and try to sleep. Unbidden images came to the forefront of his imagination, images of a girl he thought of like a sister. After a long moment of mental debate, Harry decided on his course of action.
Before he could lose his nerve, Harry pushed the flap of the tent aside and stepped out into the open. Looking down and to the side, his unbidden images were replaced by the real thing. Hermione was sitting on the ground, in front of the small fire she had made at her feet, her back leaning heavily against the tent wall. She was wearing grey hooded jacket and red scarf combination, the former zipped up and her face buried in the latter. Harry watched the rapid rise and fall of the girl's chest before his eyes roamed lower down her body to find her wand hand had wedged itself firmly under her jeans. He couldn't see what she was doing but he knew exactly what she was doing.
Hermione froze at the sound Harry exiting the tent and stared up at him, wide eyed. Harry stood there, staring right back. He noted how, after the initial shock of being discovered masturbating, Hermione's eyes lidded a little past their regular size and her hand had not been removed from the depths of her jeans. What was more, Harry noticed, was that her other hand wasn't clenching her chest like he thought she was, but it was gripped firmly around the locket that served as a container for a piece of Voldemort's soul.
The logical part of Harry's brain claimed it made sense, the locket forcing raw and in some ways destructive emotions to the surface, almost as if in hopes of causing the one who wore the locket to eventually self-destruct. The rest of Harry's mind, however, noticed the slight haze that seemed to be floating across Hermione's eyes as they continued to stare at one another. Harry forced himself to look away, scratching the back of his neck as if trying to decide his next move. Glancing back at Hermione, Harry found that even though he had broken the stillness, she hadn't, simply choosing to stare at him.
A minute passed before Harry found himself walking over to Hermione and sitting down next to her. Another glance told him that Hermione still had yet to move, apart from following Harry's progress towards her. After a second more of hesitation, Harry reached down and slipped a hand around Hermione's body, gently pulling her up and shifting her around so that she was leaning against him instead of the tent. As he settled her into place, he reached around to take her hand, the one clutching the locket with a death grip. Gently, he started prying her fingers off of the Horcrux. It was slow and hard work but finally he got the heirloom out of her hand. Hermione looked like she was about to make a grab for it once again but she held herself back, the internal struggle evident even behind her lidded eyes. Gingerly, Harry removed the chain around Hermione's neck and threw the locket back into the tent as soon as it was clear.
As soon as he did he could feel Hermione trembling. He could see the color that was being subtly drained out of her by the Horcrux returning and then her face continued to turn even redder after that. Nevertheless, her eyes remained locked on his. He gently took her now free hand in his own, lacing his fingers with his before wrapping said arm and subsequently her own arm around her waist. With a small heave, Harry pulled Hermione into his lap and turned her back around so that her back was resting against his chest. The trembling slowly faded and Harry felt Hermione's hand closing around his fingers as she subtly nestled herself in his grip, the pair of them enjoying the silent company the other brought to the table. No words were needed, they knew they cared for one another, and would do anything to help the other. All the while though, her wand hand never left her jeans.
Harry watched her for a moment before reaching down with his free hand and ran it down her arm until his fingers touched the waistband of Hermione's jeans. After a moment, Harry slipped his fingers between the small gap, following Hermione's own hand. He felt her tense, saw it too, as she watched his hand descend, her hand gripping Harry's. The hand Harry had down Hermione's jeans gripped her wrist, slowly tugging her hand out. At first she resisted, burying her face in her scarf in what Harry figured to be shame, but soon she relaxed, allowing Harry to pull her fingers free. However, instead of removing her hand completely, Harry pushed his own hand deeper and replaced Hermione's fingers with his own.
The result was instantaneous. As soon as Harry's fingers felt the moist surface of Hermione's nethers, the girl took in a shuddering breath. She squirmed but Harry's arm kept her to him as he continued to gently run his fingers along the surface. The shuddering breath was quickly followed up with a soft moan and the same light whimpers he had heard before coming out of the tent. Harry used his finger to trace the edges of Hermione's lower lips, making her arch her back just a little, pushing her head against the shoulder it rested on while raising her chest as pleasure coursed through her body. Her grip on his fingers was so tight Harry swore that she'd end up breaking them if she squeezed any tighter. To try and relieve some of the pressure, Harry squeezed her hand back in return but that only seemed to spur her on.
Slowly, after half a dozen laps around her lips, Harry's fingers ran across the witch's slit, his feather light touch making her let out an almost involuntary gasp of pleasure, pushing her groin against his taunting fingers. Harry held her firm, however, only allowing his fingers to move up and down Hermione's puffy slit but never allowing his fingers to actually enter her. Hermione's forgotten hand resigned to gripping Harry's arm tightly, almost pulling on his arm as if trying to drive his hand in deeper.
Harry glanced back at Hermione to see her eyes were now fully closed, her head leaning back on his shoulders and her mouth agape as she breathed heavily. Harry stared at her lips, almost feeling their inviting quality before he subjected himself to their allure. He leaned forward and pressed his lips gently against Hermione's.
The witch's reaction was instantaneous. As soon as their lips touched, she began to kiss him furiously, Harry almost blown away by her forcefulness. Nevertheless, Harry fought back, pressing his own lips against hers and resisted being forced down. His fingers started to add pressure against Hermione's nethers, slowly, with every stroke, sinking deeper and deeper until she felt the fingers finally penetrate her. The feeling of someone else other than herself having their fingers inside of her after so long set the girl off, making her arch her back and cry out into the kiss. He glanced over to see her eyes squeezed tight and her face the one of ecstasy as Harry felt his hand being splashed with liberal amounts of sticky liquids originating from Hermione.
Once her orgasm subsided, Hermione slumped back against Harry's chest, breathing hard. Harry smiled and noticed, with some perverse interest, the darkness that creeping along the crotch of Hermione's jeans.
Harry watched her, seeing the small smile finally gracing her lips. He couldn't help but smile himself as he slowly pulled his hand out of her jeans. She didn't resist but as she turned and buried her face into his neck, he saw the slightest sign of her smile fading. Ignoring it, however, Harry picked Hermione up from where he sat, slipping his arms under her legs and behind her back to carry her into the tent. He was lucky that all the years of Quidditch had built him some muscle or else failing in the action would've looked very silly. Either way, Harry carried Hermione into the tent and carefully deposited the girl on her own cot. Pulling away, Harry looked at Hermione's face once more. It was no longer smiling, like he had thought, but at least it looked relaxed, probably the first time it did in weeks.
Harry smiled to himself and went to the sink to wash his hand off. Grabbing a towel to dry his hands, he went back to Hermione to find she hadn't moved in the minutes that he was away, except now her shoes and socks were pilled at the foot of her bed, which was fine really. His eyes then traveled down the familiar downward path of her body and rested on her jeans. He put the towel aside and walked up to Hermione, kneeling down next to her cot, resting a hand on her navel, right above her button of her jeans. He spoke quietly, almost in a whisper. Hermione's face colored even more in the dim light from the lantern hanging over her cot but she nodded.
At her nod, Harry started to undo her jeans, first popping the button free before very gently started to unzip them. He looked back at Hermione's face and, after confirming that he wasn't about to get into trouble, he reached up and gently started working her jeans down. Hermione helped by lifting her hips off the cot and before long Harry was pulling her jeans off her legs, placing it down on the seat of a chair once they were completely off. Harry turned back to look at Hermione and he flushed at the sight of her naked from the waist down save for a pair of red panties. He looked to Hermione's face again before reaching up and hooking his thumbs around the waist band of her panties too.
Slowly, tentatively, he pulled those down just like he did with her jeans. And just the same, Hermione lifted her hips just a little so that the action was easier for Harry. Harry felt his heart hammering in his chest as he removed her underwear, exposing her most private of parts to him.
Harry found himself in need of swallowing, several times. The sight of her hips down to her groin, neatly trimmed leaving a layer of fuzz though clearly exposing the pinkness of her puffy lower lips.
Almost as if knowing that he was staring at her, Hermione pressed her legs together and turned onto her side, as if trying to hide herself. Harry couldn't help but chuckle. Gently, he climbed into the cot next to her, kicking off his own shoes before wrapping an arm around her waist. While she didn't make a move to accept his presence there on her cot, she didn't stop him from slowly unraveling her scarf, and then later unzipping her jacket. Hermione didn't react unless it was to move her body, freeing up whatever article of clothing Harry was trying to remove from her body. With her scarf and jacket now gone, the only thing that was on Hermione's entire body was her blouse, which he carefully unbuttoned. And soon, even that was no longer covering her body.
It was then when what happened fully hit Harry. He was looking at one of his closest friends, one that had been with him through all the good times and all the bad times, lying next to him, stark naked, thanks to him undressing her. Gingerly, Harry ran his hand down her front, watching the shiver pass through Hermione's body, before reversing the motion and letting his hand travel back up her body.
However, his hand didn't stop at the starting point. It went even higher until his hand grazed Hermione's bare breast. It was still being covered by Hermione's arm, impeding his progress. Or rather it did, for a second later Hermione lifted her arm up a fraction, allowing Harry to slip his hand through and wrap his hand around one of her full mounds. A shuddering intake of breath was all Harry needed to hear before he started to apply pressure, squeezing her breast with his hand, massaging it slowly but firmly. Harry could feel her nipple getting harder with every squeeze and her breaths becoming more and more labored.
Eventually, the moaning began again. Maybe it was the fact that Hermione started pressing against him, or maybe it was hearing the voice and seeing her naked, but whatever the cause Harry was now painfully aware of how tight his own jeans were. He shifted uncomfortably, pulling away from Hermione's firm rear to use his free hand, the one not occupied by her breast, and started undoing his own jeans. Harry didn't bother undressing since it was hard when one hand was trapped under Hermione's arm. But he did eventually fish himself out of his boxers and he felt Hermione tensed when the tip of his member pressed up against her backside.
She hugged Harry's hand to her chest, like a girl would hug her teddy bear, before slowly, carefully, relaxed and wiggled herself closer to him. Feeling her movements, Harry scooted himself a little closer, maneuvering himself until his shaft was placed firmly between Hermione's thighs. Harry glanced over at her face to see her eyes screwed shut, panting hard as thoughts raced through her mind. And then, slowly, her expression relaxed, her body relaxed, and her eyes opened.
Hermione looked up at Harry, who in turn was looking down at her. They stared at each other for a long moment before Hermione leaned her head up and took Harry's lips in a deep, passionate kiss, a kiss that Harry mirrored all too readily. Hermione wrapped her arm all the way around Harry's neck to hold the kiss while Harry's hand gently massaged her chest. Soon, Hermione would notice Harry starting to hump his hips, driving his shaft in and out from between her thighs. Carefully, Hermione reached down and her fingers grazed the tip of Harry's prick.
Harry gave a little gasp into the kiss as the feeling of Hermione's fingers brushed against the head of his prick and a small spurt of pre landed on her fingers. Harry felt Hermione's face grow warmer but at the same time he felt her push herself up, carefully aligning herself as they continued to kiss.
Harry shivered as he felt the head of his penis press against the wet, hot surface of her entrance. Harry didn't need to ask whether it was ok or not, he just pushed himself in, feeling the warm tightness of Hermione's vagina wrapping around his member. The pair gasped in unison as Harry sunk deeper within the witch. Harry was about to start pulling out when Hermione's hand gently touched his thigh. At her silent urging, Harry pushed in a little deeper, making Hermione moan out and whimpering something about "big". Soon enough, Harry would feel Hermione's rear press into his lap just as he felt the tip reach the end of her canal. It was a perfect fit.
Harry squirmed at the tightness Hermione exuded but allowed the witch to collect herself once more. Once she was ready, he felt her hand leave his thigh. Taking that as a sign to continue, Harry started to pull out slowly. He felt the resistance, Hermione's insides squeezing down on him so tightly it felt like she was pulling him back in. He managed to get all but the tip out of her before he found himself forced to sink back in.
Slowly, steadily, Harry started to work his hips, driving himself in and out of Hermione while his hand continued to massage her chest. The witch could no longer keep silent, which each thrust brought out a louder and higher pitched moan. Before long the tent was filled with the sounds of Hermione's moan, each moan becoming a cry of pleasure in time with every one of Harry's thrusts. She used one hand to grip the hand Harry had on her breasts, this time lacing her fingers through his while the other reached back to wrap around Harry's neck. Luckily for Harry, he was starting to find out where Hermione's secret sensitive spot happened to be. He reached out and gave Hermione's nipple a solid pinch, even tugging on it slightly, pulling it away from her chest. Hermione cried out at the stimulation, feeling herself physically and verbally begging for more like a wanton slut. What was more, Harry had wormed his hand between her body and the cot and was now wrapping around Hermione's waist. Before long, her engorged clitoris was brought into the fight, the pinching, pulling, and rolling driving her mad. She arched, she screamed, she cried out to the heavens, and she reached the peak.
Harry pulled her around just as he felt he was on the edge and he kissed the witch, deeply, passionately, relishing how her tongue worked itself immediately into his mouth. That stimulation was just what he needed, driving himself to the base inside Hermione before letting the dam break, flooding into Hermione's deepest, most private of places. Harry felt Hermione tense as his seed spilt into her womb but the feeling was only countered by a mind blowing orgasm on Hermione's part. Hermione cried out into their kiss, her nails digging painfully into Harry's back. If it weren't for his shirt he was sure he'd be bleeding right now.
The two remained locked for a long while, their bodies quaking in pleasure, Harry's spunk filling Hermione's womb and Hermione's juices soaked their thighs. The first thing to become unfrozen was their lips and jaws, slowly but vigorously working against one another, their tongues battling for dominance. It ended when Hermione couldn't suppress a giggle, turning her head away as if to hide it and pressing her face into her pillow.
Harry couldn't help but smile, asking her what was so funny. Hermione's only response was to shake her head and kiss him once again, whispering a soft word of thanks, Harry noting the hoarseness in her voice. Harry didn't know what exactly Hermione was thanking him for but he never had a chance to ask as the two resumed their kiss, this time much softer but also much more passionate.
Over time, Harry felt himself softening inside Hermione and slowly he pulled himself out, surprised to feel nothing spill out of the girl. He didn't have time to dwell on it though as Hermione reached down and started to work his pants all the way off. Seeing what she was trying to accomplish, Harry kicked off his pants and boxers, kicking them to the floor. He carefully extricated his arm from underneath Hermione so he could pull off his shirt and in the meantime he felt Hermione turn around to face him. Just as he pulled his shirt over his head and letting it drop to the ground, he felt Hermione pull a blanket over the pair of them. He smiled as he carefully wrapped an arm around her body, drawing her close and grabbing a handful of her firm butt. She gave a little embarrassed squeak and slapped him lightly on the chest, before giggling and snuggling up against him. Harry grinned before pulling her close, one arm hugging her around the shoulders, resting his head on her pillow as she did the same thing to the previously mentioned arm. She looked up at him, smiling brilliantly, her face in stark contrast to what it was some minutes ago when she was outside alone. She leaned up and shared one last kiss, the lips lingering against one another before slowly parting. With a soft goodnight, Hermione settled herself against Harry's body and closed her eyes. In mere seconds, Harry did the same, falling asleep almost instantly.
They could risk a single night with no one on watch…they deserved a short break…
