Harry Potter is not mine…sigh unfortunately… :rests head on arms and dreams of Scottish castle:

Author's Note: Sorry this took so long to get out…sometimes the Muse isn't as forthcoming as other times... grumble, grumble... I've got part 3 and part 4 practically written in my head, I think this was the hardest one for me to get down on paper. Hopefully the other two won't take nearly as long. Thanks for sticking around :D

Again, thanks to JaxieTonks! and to Paul, welcome home.

Part 2

The second time was an accident. Just as the first was. Or that's what they'd decided. She still wondered if sex could really be considered an accident…

What in the name of Merlin had she thinking, inviting Cormac bloody McLaggen to Professor Slughorn's Christmas party? She flashed on the huge Quidditch player and his big hands…hands that had already wandered a bit more than was comfortable in the small hug he'd wrapped her in after she asked him to the party. She smirked when she remembered the tiny whispered spell she'd sent over his shoulder that had flowed over his skin like biting ants. That had kept his hands off her for a good 40 minutes. Hermione's anger flared, pushing her harder through the corridors of Hogwarts, she wasn't sure where she was going, but she wanted, needed, it to take a while to get there. If she ran into anyone now…who knows what she would do. She'd never known anger like this, sure, she'd been mad in the past, but ever since that little bird incident with Ron she couldn't seem to calm the burn of anger in her chest. And this horrid night with McLaggen hadn't helped. At all.

It was all that fool Ronald Weasley's fault. Why he had to fuse himself to Lavender Brown every time he had a free moment… Hermione shook her head in disgust at herself. She knew why, had first hand knowledge as to why someone would want to spend all their time like Ron and Lavender were. Of course, she was pretty positive Ron and Lavender hadn't had sex yet. When Lavender retried to their dorm room she was very vocal about just what she and Ron did during their time together. It took a lot of Hermione's will power not to kill the blonde in her sleep. Not that it was Lavender's fault; Hermione and Ron had made no promises to one another. Hell, she didn't even know if Ron felt anything more for her than friendship. Truth be told, Hermione didn't know if she felt anything more than friendship for him either, though there had always been…something between them. She did know that it bothered her to no end that he was currently swapping spit and other bodily fluids with Lavender Brown.

And then there was Harry. Trying to be friends with them both, but always just a bit too busy thinking about Ginny to pay attention to her and Ron and their seemingly endless bickering. She knew Harry thought she hadn't noticed the looks he was shooting at Ginny every time the redhead wasn't looking. Or the vicious looks he kept shooting at Dean regardless of who was looking. It was the looks he sent at Ginny's profile or her back or that crossed his face whenever he heard her voice in the halls that got to Hermione. As happy as Hermione was for her red-headed friend, those looks on Harry's face hurt just a little. She tried to pretend they didn't, that the twinge tightening her heart every time she caught Harry looking at Ginny like he wanted nothing more than every part of him touching every part of her were due to excitement for her only real female friend. Not jealousy, of course it couldn't be jealousy. Hermione had no reason to be jealous of Ginny, to want those bright green eyes focused on her, lighting her skin on fire like his hands could, like his mouth did…

No. No, she wouldn't think of it. She'd promised herself as she bounced out of his common room last year that she wouldn't think of what had happened between them. That it would be forgotten as they had decided it should be. But sometimes… Oh, sometimes she'd turn and their eyes would meet and everything that happened between them, everything he did to her that one blessedly wonderful afternoon would come back in a vicious flash, tightening her hands on whatever was in them, whatever was close enough to grab hold of. They'd look away from each other quickly, but then she'd have to shut her eyes and duck her head, have to hope no one would be looking in her direction at that particular moment. Would silently beg, please, please let no one ask why my face is flushed, why my breathing is suddenly harsh; please let no one see…

Thankfully she'd made it through those…episodes without having to explain her bizarre behavior. Hermione chuckled quietly under her breath as she wove her way through the castle. How in the name of Merlin's pants would she explain herself if someone did ask? Oh, sorry about that, I was just remembering what it felt like to have my best friend Harry's tongue and teeth on my nipples driving me wild while he pounded me into his bed. No need to worry, I'll be fine in just a mo. Hermione's steps faltered as that particular memory tightened things low in her body. It was still such a surprise that it had been good. Really good. She'd always assumed her first time would be quick and painful and unfulfilling. But thanks to Harry it had been quite the opposite. One of the best experiences of her life. She'd never been as comfortable in her life as she had when they'd lain together after, legs entwined, bodies flushed and pressed together…and that's enough of that, you silly chit, Hermione berated herself. She had to stay away from thoughts like that and the feelings they caused. Regardless of how wonderful sex was with Harry Potter, he was her best friend and that was all. That was all she wanted and all he wanted and that was…fine. Hermione straightened her shoulders, lifted her head; that was perfect.

Just Bloody Perfect.

Anger rushed in her blood again. It wasn't perfect, wasn't even close. Why is it that they could never see her? Oh, Lavender Brown was seen and Ginny Weasley and Cho bloody Chang were seen, but no one sees the girl Hermione. Just Hermione the Bookworm. Even her two best friends, one of which knew, knew, just how feminine she could be. Ron would never really see her, and Harry, Harry had seen her as a woman that one afternoon, but since then he'd stuck really buggering well to the "it was an accident" idea. It wasn't fair. Ron could make her so mad and jealous over that idiotic tart of a girl Lavender. How dare he throw his new "girlfriend" in her face all the time. And Harry. Harry who could so easily forget her. Forget their time together; forget how it felt to be together so intimately. How dare he forget when she could still remember every moment.

Rat Bastards. We'll just see who sees who and who forgot what.


What in the name of Merlin was she thinking, inviting sodding Cormac bloody McLaggen to Slughorn's Christmas party? She was supposed to be the smartest witch of her age, but Harry could've told her what an idiot move that was. The things he'd heard about that hulking brute and his behavior toward women would make her fool head spin. For someone so smart she could be so dumb sometimes. Harry stalked the hallways looking for her, so angry he could barely breathe. At least that's what he was telling himself. His breathing was certainly not influenced by the idea of another man's hands where only his had been. If she hadn't been able to keep away from him… If McLaggen had found her, gotten her away from people…out of sight and alone… Harry's speed picked up and he could feel his fists clenching. So stupid! How could she be so stupid?! Just to punish Ron. He knew that's the only reason she would ask someone like McLaggen to a party. He knew Ron deserved it, the way he'd been behaving with Lavender, but punishing Ron shouldn't lead to Hermione putting herself in danger. If she really wanted to punish Ron she should've told him about her and Harry and their little "accident" the year before.

Suddenly the flushed and tousled look of Hermione as they talked after their accidental sex last year bloomed in his head before being overtaken by the slightly disheveled look of her at the party after just having escaped from McLaggen and a red haze took over in Harry's brain. The fact that the tosser could have, might have, put his hands on Hermione…might have felt the soft skin of her stomach, cupped the plump perfection of her breasts, ran a finger down through those curls at-No. Harry stopped, just stopped mid-stride and took a deep breath, his fists clenching at his sides. McLaggen didn't do those things; he didn't touch her that way… She's escaped from him, kept him at a distance. She was fine. For now. Until Harry found her, then she'd get a piece of his mind about keeping herself safe from large men who didn't believe a woman meant it when she said no.

The sound of hurried footsteps ahead of him brought Harry out of his thoughts, and away from that red haze. Until a bushy head he recognized burst forward from around the corner. When she saw him she froze in her steps and her eyes narrowed. Harry quickly moved in front of her, fighting to keep his hands from grabbing her shoulders and shaking some sense into her.

"You!" Harry paused at the obvious anger in her voice and wondered just what the little fool could be angry at him about. She was the one being an idiot.

"You!" Harry put his anger into the one word so she would know she wasn't the only one with something to say. He watched as her mouth opened to start her tirade, but loud footsteps sounded from around the corner. She almost made him laugh when she stomped her little foot in a frustrated movement, but his anger rose again when she grabbed his arm and dragged him into the nearest classroom. He broke free of her as they passed through the door then turned to lock the door himself, physically and with a spell.

He turned to face Hermione just as she had spun to face him, her eyes bright and her cheeks flushed and it reminded him again of her rumpled state at the party, flashed that red haze back over his eyes. He moved forward, invading her space, crowding her so she had to step back.

"How could you Hermione?! How dare you invite that-that-bastard to the party?! What if he'd gotten you alone? Gotten you alone and forced himself on you. How could you be so stupid to put yourself in that position?" Her eyes widened and flashed brittle with anger as she stopped moving backwards. His body bumped with hers and a bit of that red haze shot straight to his groin, the rumpled picture of her in his mind's eye shifting to the flushed and tousled Hermione from their afternoon together. It stumbled him a bit and gave her the chance to cut across his admonishments.

"What?! How dare I? How dare you, Harry!" She moved forward this time, crowding him, forcing him to give up ground as she poked him in the chest. Their argument that day flashed into her mind and was quickly chased out by what happened when the yelling stopped. Hermione realized that this was how she'd gotten him to see her. To forget about Cho and realize Hermione was a girl too. Her anger at being forgotten, being ignored, being invisible burned ever brighter, clouding her mind, erasing the intellectual side of her that realized this was a mistake, that this was Harry and they were friends and nothing more. The memory of that night flashed low in her belly and all she wanted was his hands on her to remind her that she was seen, was a girl, wasn't forgotten. And now she remembered how to make that happen. Push him far enough and Harry will push back.

Hermione invaded his space again, poked another finger into his chest. "How often do I have to prove to you that I can take care of myself, protect myself. That I can ask anyone I want to go wherever I want. You're not my father, nor my brother." Harry grabbed her wrist and spun her, pressing her hard against the wall, the line of his body pressing the length of hers, their noses practically touching. When she made to push him away he simply grabbed her other wrist and pushed them both high above her head. It was all Hermione could do not to smile.

"No. I am most definitely not your father nor your brother. I'm just a friend that worries over the ridiculously stupid decisions you make." Shock dropped her jaw before she bucked against him, trying to get a hand free to hit him.

"You bast-" Harry cut her off by pressing both wrists into one hand and squeezing them just a bit. His other hand pressed her still bucking hips against the door, desperate for her to be still so he could focus. Instead the feel of her hips, the slight swell under his fingers of the top of her butt pressed his hips harder into hers.

"Stop me then, Hermione. If you think you can protect yourself so bloody well, try and stop me." He ground his hips against hers, watched as her eyes widened and blurred. "Sweet Merlin, Hermione, stop me. For both our sakes, stop me." The last was muttered before his lips crashed to hers. He kissed her fiercely, the anger having transformed into a blind need to have her mouth locked onto his, her legs wrapped around him again. He knew the blow was coming, that he would deserve it, but when he loosened his hold on her wrists, knowing that she needed to stop him cause there was no way he'd be able to stop now, her hands cupped his face and her mouth opened to him. Her tongue surged against his and he could almost taste her desperation for him. It brought a low growl from him and he boosted her up against the wall, hands tight and bruising on her hips. When her strong legs wrapped around him, tightening to press him hard against her hot core he moaned loud and low, breaking their kiss to lick and bite and kiss at her throat.

Hermione threw her head back, unbelievably relieved to have Harry pressed so very close to her. It wasn't enough, but it was a start. She groaned and shifted her hips against his, desperate for more. Her hands flew to his pants, working the buttons and zipper, diving underneath the elastic of his boxers to find him long and hard and ready for her. She almost laughed out loud in her joy, but when her fingers closed around the hard length of him he jolted and her name burst from his lips on a shout. It was too much of exactly what she wanted; to be seen and touched and appreciated. Hermione latched her mouth onto his, hungry for him, for every part of him to be connected to every part of her. She keened low in her throat when he shot a hand under her shirt to squeeze her breast before thumbing her nipple through her bra. He used his hips and thighs to keep her against the wall as his other hand rushed up her thigh and under her skirt to bury itself under her panties, fingers caressing her opening and sliding hot and slick over her clit.

Stars burst behind her eyes and she wondered how she had kept away from this for so long. "Please, Harry, please." It was all she could get out before he thrust two fingers deep into her as he tweaked her nipple and bit at her neck. Her hand tightened around him before pumping him quickly from root to tip and back.

"Merlin! Hermione," Harry growled low in his throat as all of her drove him closer to that brink. Her low lust-soaked voice begging him and groaning his name, her hot mouth on his, her eager hand on his cock, the weight of her breast in his hand, the proof of her desire for him coating his fingers, it was too much. If he wasn't inside her, bringing her around him soon he was sure he'd loose his mind. He pulled at her underwear, but unwilling to put her back on the floor, unsure his body would even be able to be away from hers at this point, he growled low in his throat, any ability to put together a sentence having left him when her hands started moving on his cock, hard and fast.

Hermione ripped her mouth from Harry's just long enough to mutter a tearing spell and felt her underwear shred easily under Harry's pulling hands. She felt those hands grip her hips to hold her up and press her more steadily against the wall. She released her grip on the length of him to grasp at his shoulders, helping him to position himself to better enter her. In that split second before he did she pulled her mouth from his and their eyes met, held as he thrust hard and swift into her, thrust all the way to the hilt, pinning her against the wall. She felt the pleasure of that first joining rush up her body to tighten her hands on his shoulders, throw her head back against the wall, drop her jaw, close her eyes, and force a moan from her throat. She felt more than heard his low groan and his forehead as it dropped to her chest. For a heartbeat they froze, simply enjoying the simplicity and joy of being so intimately connected, of giving their bodies what they hadn't known they needed.

Only seconds later their mouths were back together, tongues sliding and warring, teeth nipping at lips, moans vibrating from one to another. Harry, blind with need, pumped in and out of her wet, tight heat, her clenching muscles weakening his knees and driving him into her even harder. He broke from her mouth, desperate to feel her pulse against his lips he dragged them down across her jaw and kissed and sucked and nibbled his way up and down the column of her throat. He vaguely felt her nails biting into his back, but it simply pistoned his hips faster against hers, rushed his hand under her bra to cup her breast, tweak and squeeze and skim her nipple.

She cried out his name and he knew he couldn't last much longer. It had been too long since the last time; she was too hot, too beautiful, too desperate for his body, his hands, his mouth, for him to hold out much longer. Her hips started moving erratically and he knew she was close as well. He moved a hand to press the pad of his thumb against her clit and she exploded around him, hands, legs, thighs, inner muscles tightening around all of him as her head lashed back against the wall, a scream erupting from her mouth. She pulled him after her, muscles rippling tightly against his length, ripping his orgasm from him, shooting the pleasure across his body, his hips pumping into her faster and out of rhythm until his vision went dark.


Hermione dropped her head onto Harry's shoulder and let out a low chuckle. She felt amazing. A broad smile spread on her face when she heard Harry's answering chuckle. She felt him squeeze her hips before shifting just a few inches away from her. As she loosened her legs around his waist she took a moment to memorize the feelings swirling around inside her. Happiness, peace, contentment, a low hum of lazy satisfaction, and underneath it all the light buzz of arousal when she realized he was still buried deep inside her. She met his eyes, only after she knew they would be full of friendly joy, and smiled brightly at him. He seemed to take her in a minute before smiling back at her.

"Hey," she said softly. He chuckled and carefully set her back on the ground. In those few seconds of friction when he pulled out of her, Hermione's eyes closed on a sigh and she could feel her skin flush a bit. Then his forehead was on hers, his hands brushing her skirt down, straightening her shirt for her.

"Hey." She laughed for him and before she could stop herself kissed him quick on the mouth. She fought to ignore her body's desire to settle there against that talented mouth and she shifted from between him and the door, moving further into the dark classroom.

"So," she started, turning to lean against a desk, crossing her legs in front of her. She watched as Harry righted his own clothing and smiled as he tried unsuccessfully to sort out his mussed hair.

"So…" She smiled as he did and they both let out short, slightly awkward laughs. Then he moved to her, bumping her hips with his as a sign to make room on the desk for him. They settled against each other, hip to hip, legs crossed.

"Another mistake, then?" She asked, glancing at him, glad that this wasn't going to be awkward. The last thing Hermione wanted was for her and Harry's relationship to be as awkward, or more so, than her and Ron's.

"Another accident, I think." She snorted and threw a grin at him. He grinned back and bumped their shoulders. "I doubt you make many mistakes, Hermione." His face had smoothed out, seriousness crawling into his eyes. Hermione sighed.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I pushed you, pushed this, I know I did…I'm just so frustrated and I apparently needed to get some of it out." He kept those green eyes locked on hers and for just a moment she felt she could drown in them, drown in peace and contentment, in happiness and arousal, then he blinked and faced forward.

"It's not all your fault, Hermione. I think I went looking for you for what I thought was a good reason, but I almost think I wanted…well, I don't really know. Just know that it's not your fault entirely." Her blood pumped a bit faster at that little tidbit of information. He'd come looking for sex with her? "I'm frustrated myself. I-Dean and Ginny-she-well, I," Harry cleared his throat and threw her a sheepish look through his lashes. Hermione's blood calmed at the mention of Ginny and her reason kicked in. This wasn't about the two of them-Harry and Hermione-for either of them. It was about Ron and Ginny. Damned complicated and frustrating Weasleys.

"I know, Harry. I know." She smiled at his blush, but pushed on, wanting to give him a little secret back. "Same with me about that…fool Ron." Her anger flashed a bit, but receded when Harry knocked their shoulders again. "Like I said, I was frustrated. Thanks for helping me with it." She winked lecherously at him and enjoyed his low chuckle.

"So I guess we've been in here chatting about Slughorn's party then?" Hermione nodded and stood, taking a deep breath.

"Yup. Just two friends gossiping about the worst Christmas party ever." Harry took in Hermione's straight back and thanked Merlin that she was his friend. This could have been so horribly awkward, but she refused to let it. It was so nice to just be able to be himself with someone, enjoy a mistake-accident, Harry, accident-with a friend without yelling or angry words and cold silences. Though when she stretched those strong arms, rising to her toes on those long legs his groin had ideas far from friendship. Taking a deep breath he tried to think of anything but what he and Hermione had just done. Against a wall no less. Not helping. How he was ready for another go he'd never know…just like last time…again, NOT helping. Harry used a well tested method. He thought of Snape.

Harry cleared his throat and headed for the door to the classroom. He shot a quick glance back at Hermione, when she smiled he twisted the handle. He opened the door for her and followed her out into the corridor.

"So apparently Scrimgeour is a vampire, Luna told me." Harry mentioned, hoping to get Hermione laughing, hoping to get his own mind far away from what they'd just done. She let out a burst of laughter and turned to him as he closed the door behind them.

"What? A vampire? Come on, Harry! It's totally obvious he's really a troll under the influence of Polyjuice Potion and working for the goblins of Gringotts to overthrow Wizard civilization as it stands."

"Right, of course, I should have guessed. A troll, polyjuiced to look like a wizard, working for goblins. Simple."

"Well, if you study the Quibbler, as I have, Harry," Hermione began, dropping her voice to a fairly good imitation of Luna's breezily dreamy one. Harry laughed all the way to their common room.