Hermione could remember when she first arrived at Hogwart's. she had been so young and impressionable, and so, so, scared. Nearly scared out of her wits, and that was saying something, because she certainly had plenty of them. She could remember it all so clearly, like it was yesterday, her confused muggle parents watching her depart through the wall on the platform, and, later, her being placed in Gryffindor. she was so new to the wizarding world, and so naïve. She knew it wouldn't be easy fitting in. it never was. She knew her buck teeth and frizzy hair set her apart. She always had. And so at a young age she had come to terms with the fact that most people she happened upon would look down on her or shun her, and built a wall around herself. She buried herself in her studies, knowing her books would never hand out birthday invitations to everyone but her in front of her face. They would never corner her in the girls' primary loos and ask her if her daddy was a bunny until her collar was soaked with tears. She excelled in school because she had to; if you were an insufferable know-it-all, you could tell yourself that that was the reason people didn't want to be around you, even if it wasn't the truth, and deep down, you knew it. Then the letter from hogwart's came.
Her father threw it out, thinking it was junk mail. And then another came, and another, and finally, Dumbledore himself showed up in her living room and gave her incredibly dumbstruck parents a tutorial on the wizarding world. Then he handed them a ticket for the Hogwarts train, brief instructions on how to board, and bid them adieu. But not before he shook little Hermione's hand and told her she was very lucky indeed to be coming to hogwart's, and he was sure she would have a splendid time.
And so, it was with her usual apprehension, but also with hope, that Hermione entered hogwart's school of witchcraft and wizardry. In time, she made friends with Ron and Harry and a few girls in her classes. She began to socialize, and even draw back from her books the slightest bit, but never so much that she was out of her comfort zone. Suddenly, she had a life. She had people she could confide in. she was happy. But she would never forget that Dumbledore was the first person, other than her mum and dad, who was ever truly kind to her. Looking back, she could now pinpoint that moment in her London home as the minute she first started loving Dumbledore. It had started out as a father/daughter sort of love. He had been the one to come and rescue her from such a wretched life in the Muggle world where no one accepted her, and she wanted more than anything to please him and make him proud. He was her hero.
But then she became a prefect. Dumbledore's relationships with the prefects were, of course, closer and more intimate than his with those of the other students. She got to know him on a fabulously personal level, though it was never inappropriate. She knew his hopes, what he had dreamed of as a boy, what he worried about, his childhood. She knew every wrinkle and crevasse of his once-handsome, open face. She could read his expression like a book, and knew what he was thinking just by the glint in his clear blue eyes. They spent hours by the fire in his office, talking about everything, from what career path she wanted to follow to whether she should cut her hair. He was so wonderfully wise, and she trusted him with everything. He was like a father, a tutor, and a best friend all rolled into one. And now, he was also a lover.
She rolled over in her four-poster bed and sighed. She knew it was wrong. Hell, she'd know it before it had ever happened. More than once she had chided herself, knowing it was twisted to entertain ideas about a man his age. But it was never his body she fantasized about. It was always his wit, his intelligence, the youthful sparkle in his eyes. Only now was it his body that she dreamed about.
His secret certainly explained a lot about how well they related to each other. She understood now, after hours of pondering the whole thing, that the actual Dumbledore had passed away. She supposed it had been the senior's dying wish that his noble work be carried out uninterrupted by the unfortunate incident of his death. And so, in a desperate plea, he convinced his son to fashion a time capsule sort of spell to keep his appearance fresh, and take on his father's appearance, mannerisms, and job during the day. She also understood that until now, no one in the world had known.
She smiled into her pillow. It was a lot to digest. But hey, she wasn't the top of her year in every class for nothing. She glanced at her wristwatch. It was already 3:00 a.m. just four hours ago her headmaster's member had been inside her. She shocked herself with the blatant way her thoughts spilled forth, but she was also amused and aroused by it. Fancy that, being aroused by your own words. It shocked her even more, though, that it had been so…chill. It was such an American word. But there was no other way to describe it. The sex itself, of course, had been anything but. It was the…execution, if you will, that was. It was as if they had both known it was going to happen, and like puzzle pieces, they had fallen right into place. Just thinking about him, about the whole thing, made her shiver with delight. She closed her eyes and slipped her hand up her nightgown. She had done this only once before, in third year, when she heard some of the older girls in the loos talking about "getting off". she knew it was considered nasty and wrong, but she did it anyway, just so some day she could say she had, if only once. It had been horrible. She hadn't even been able to force her fingertips all the way inside herself. It had hurt so much she cried, and the whole area had been red for a day. But now…now that Albus had cleared the way…at the back of her mind she wondered if he knew he had taken her virginity, but she couldn't give it much thought now. She was too busy exploring her own body, and it was proving so delightful that she had trouble thinking at all. She stroked her clit, shaking with each new wave of pleasure that washed over her. She could feel her own wetness spreading to every part between her legs, and soon her left hand came up to massage her breasts. She was frantic, trying to pleasure every part of herself at once, and almost succeeding. She felt her body's need to be exposed to the air, and she ripped off her nightdress and kicked off the sheets, then returned her hands to their previous engagements. The air hitting her felt glorious, and her need for a climax intensified. Her nipples were hard against her palms and fingertips, and she was breathing so hard she thought her lungs might burst from her rib cage. She was almost there, almost, so close-
"thinking about anyone I know?"
A deep baritone rumbled throatily out at her from across the room. Instinctively she reached to the foot of her bed and pulled her sheets up to conceal her naked body. Then the stranger stepped out of the shadows, and a ray of moonlight fell across the angled panes of his cheekbones.
"Albus," she sighed.
He didn't say anything, only closed the distance between them in two strides and enveloped her waiting mouth in a smoldering kiss. He tugged the sheets away from her body and ripped them completely from the bed. He was wearing only a pair of pajama pants, and within seconds those were gone, discarded next to her nightdress. He worked his tongue in and out of her mouth, bringing forth little kitten-like mews with every new intrusion. Her breasts brushed his hard chest and peaked immediately at his touch. He moved his mouth to her shoulder, kissing the soft skin tenderly. He wanted to memorize every single inch of her smooth, lithe body. He wanted to keep her taste in his mouth for all of eternity. He slid his tongue up and down the curve of her shoulder, then planted a row of little kisses along her collarbone. He paused just above her right breast to see what she would do. She grabbed the back of his head placed her pert rose colored nipple in his open mouth. She gasped. She had never expected anything to feel so good.
He worked the nipple inside his mouth, moving his head up and down, then from side to side, all the while teasing her with his darting tongue. He bit and licked and sucked every part and corner of the taut , dark pink skin until it turned red. Then he turned to her left breast. He nudged her down onto her back and buried his face in the creamy skin. Her breasts were perfection, so soft and firm all at the same time. She was perfect. He suckled at her for a while, biting down softly just to hear her moans. Then he drew back. She looked up at him, eyes heavily lidded with lust, hair fanned out on the pillow around her, lips bruised red and swollen from his kisses. She was so beautiful he wanted to cry.
He ducked his head and kissed his way down from her stomach to her neatly trimmed entrance. He lifted her legs onto his shoulders, shot her a devilish grin, and shoved his tongue into her warmth. She gasped. It was like her entire body was on fire, and she couldn't think of a way to put it out, even if she wanted to. He explored her with a deft tongue and then used that tongue to drag her own juice up to her clit. He licked it. She moaned. He licked at it, sucked it, giving her everything she needed and wanted more than anything. Then he closed his mouth, pulling his lips over his teeth, and, keeping her sensitive nub shielded from his pearly whites, bit down as hard as he dared.
She shattered, and her scream was short, sharp, high-pitched, and music to his ears. She slumped with exhaustion.
He crawled up the length of her bed and lay next to her. Her eyes were wide open and her chest heaved. She tried to speak but couldn't find words. she just lay there, staring at him, licking her lips and trying to catch her breath. Then she surprised him by placing a delicate little hand on his chest. She stroked the light dusting of auburn curls there, and then- then- traced a path down to his erection and took it in her hand. His breath caught in his throat. He just looked at her. She traced those magic fingers up and down its impressive length, always stopping just short of the tip. He groaned. She was driving him mad with desire.
He closed his eyes. "darling, if you don't satisfy me soon, im going to do it myself." he mumbled. She smiled and leaned over to kiss him, her tongue sliding into his mouth. Without breaking the kiss, she suddenly slid her had up his member, sending her thumb skidding across the sensitive tip. He bit her tongue. She giggled into his mouth and worked her hand up and down his beautiful organ. His breathing grew heavy, and just as he was about to cum, she broke the kiss and leaned down to take his cock in her mouth. She sucked and sucked until he yelled her name and filled her mouth with his seed. She crawled up towards him and kissed him, letting him taste himself. He sighed.
She sighed.
And she fell asleep in his arms. The next morning, only his scent and the sweet indentation he had left on the mattress beside her, still warm, were any proof of what had gone on while the other girls in the dorm had slept soundly.