Sorry this took so long, everybody - organic chemistry is a bitch and a half. But my workload is beginning to lighten up, so I promise I'll post more often (if anybody cares anyway). Look for some lovable Weasley family meddling in the next few chapters!
Disclaimer: All I own is my dirty mind and what it makes these poor innocent characters do. The rest of it is JKR & Co.
After Defense Against the Dark Arts, George had Herbology, a class in which he didn't pay any attention on the best of days. He didn't have the slightest chance today, what with Hermione on his mind. Next thing he knew, the bell was ringing and it was off to Transfiguration.
In the corridor, George and his friends passed Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They nodded and smiled their customary hellos, and Hermione asked, "Have you turned in that essay yet, George?"
He turned around and continued talking to her while slowly walking backwards. "Just on my way now. McGonagall will probably be suspicious about the fact that it's not only complete, but also halfway decent!"
Hermione laughed, and the sound was like tinkling bells. He wanted to make her laugh all the time just so he could hear that sound and have her attention focused on him. Good God, what are you thinking, George?"I'm glad I could help. Let me know if you ever want help again!" she replied, smiling.
George stood speechless at her offer. Luckily (or perhaps not), he was (somewhat) saved by Fred, who yelled over his shoulder, "Come on now, Georgie, we're going to be late again! You can undress her with your eyes later!"
George blushed furiously, as did Hermione. "Bye!" George blurted, then turned around and sprinted after his twin and his friend.
George didn't talk to Hermione for the rest of the day – not because he was deliberately avoiding her, but because he didn't want anything to seem out of the ordinary. He, Fred, and Lee didn't normally sit with Ronnie and his friends, so it would seem odd if he spontaneously started doing so. So, at lunch and dinner, George sat with his sixth-year friends Angelina, Katie, and Alicia, and of course Fred and Lee.
After dinner, Hermione vanished to the library and he never saw her again, even though he "casually" waited in the common room for her until just one or two other people remained. He then realized how obsessive he was getting and grew dejected at his foolishness, traipsing upstairs to bed. He drifted off to sleep hoping tomorrow would bring more of Hermione, however ridiculous his obsession made him feel.
The next morning, George woke up with the stiff morning erection that usually greeted him, only this time it couldn't be willed away like it usually could. He sighed and got out of bed and, noticing that no one else was up yet, decided to go into the showers to have a wank, if his unwelcome guest wasn't going to go away on its own.
As he approached the showers, he heard water running and wondered who could be in the sixth-year showers if everyone in his room was asleep. He then heard a moan – a low, feminine moan – and his manhood twitched as his blood ran cold.
"Is – is anybody in there?" he called out tentatively, his voice shaking.
"Just Hermione," came the reply, "But I don't mind sharing, George."
George felt hot and sweaty all over, incredibly nervous and incredibly turned on. His morning wood gave another twitch as he stepped toward the bathroom door and opened it.
"Bloody hell," he swore.
Hermione was on her back, legs splayed, on the edge of the bath. It was a dorm bath, considerably smaller than the Prefects' bath, and she evidently had needed more room. Her hair and body were still wet from the water – droplets ran down her glistening body as she worked three fingers in and out of her pussy.
"Mmm, sorry George, I had some unfinished business to attend to," she drawled, thrusting her hips up to meet her hand. He could tell that she was close.
They locked eyes as her mouth opened. "Oh… oh…" she moaned, maintaining eye contact and licking her lips.
George couldn't wait any longer. He was over to her in a flash, knelt down, shoved her hands out of the way, and buried his face in her womanhood.
"Just like that!" Hermione squealed as George pressed two of his fingers inside of her while tonguing her clit. She had already been close before he began his ministrations and she seemed to be reaching her peak.
"Fucking come for me, Hermione," George growled against her pussy, speeding up his fingers.
RIIIIIING!
George's magical alarm clock woke him with a start. "DAMN IT ALL TO HELL!" he shrieked, waking up all of his roommates. They stared at him, wide-eyed but drowsy.
"Sorry, mates," he whispered, and one by one, they fell back asleep. George heard Fred chuckle before his twin's head hit the pillow.
George's morning erection had never been so intense as he got out of bed and headed for the showers. He was getting up early today to wait for Hermione in the common room and invite her to have breakfast with him. IF he never did anything about his newfound crush on her, she would just continue to unintentionally torture him. George Weasley had never been a sit-back-and-let-it-happen kind of guy, and he'd be damned if he started now.
Hermione Granger sat up quickly in bed, wide-eyed. Visions of George Weasley's strong, built body doing despicable things to her danced in her head and drifted away as she came more fully into consciousness. Her hand drifted down to her mound to find it exceedingly wet. She had to suppress a groan at how good any sort of contact felt down there. Imagining it as George's tongue made her actually moan.
Luckily, she had gotten into the habit of Silencing her bed every night due to the persistent sexy dreams she had about various members of the opposite sex. Harry, Ron, Malfoy (in her dreams he didn't call her a mudblood), the twins (both together and separately), Neville, Dean – even Professor Snape had made an appearance once (the teacher-student thing turned her on like nothing else)! Just in case she moaned an embarrassing name, like "Snape," for instance, she had taken to casting Muffliato on her bed each night.
Thinking back to her dream, there was no way she hadn't called out "George!" at least once or twice. He had been roughly taking her in various positions, some of which she was sure were illegal in some parts of Europe, all while tweaking her nipples and playing with her clit. Even thinking about it now Hermione felt a rush of heat to her center and bit her lip.
Her dreams about George had been predominant over the past couple of days. While Ron was her usual dream-lover, he had been pushed to the side by his older, more daring brother. Hermione knew she wouldn't be able to concentrate at all that day if she didn't get off before breakfast, so she pulled her wand from under her pillow and set it to vibrate (something they didn't teach in Hogwarts).
As she pressed it to her sensitive nub, Hermione recalled a certain dream scene in which she and George were sitting in one of the big, comfy chairs in the common room. Well, he was sitting on the chair, and she was sitting on his cock. She was wrapped fully around him so that he was using only his strong arms and upper body to pick her up and slam her down on his member over and over again. Hermione had her arms wrapped around his neck and fisted in his long, ginger hair as he alternated brutally sucking on her nipples. In between, he was leaving love bites all over her chest and neck, and she was leaving a war zone of scratches (some of which were bleeding) on his back. It was rough, fast and just the way she liked it.
"Oh, George, oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck," she bit out as she came violently, thrusting her hips up and down in time with her imaginary partner. When it was over she performed Scourgify on herself and stood up on wobbly legs to get dressed for breakfast.
Dressed in her school uniform (which was really getting too small for her these days, particularly around the bust, she thought), she grabbed all the books she would need for her morning classes and set off down for the common room to do a bit of light reading before Harry and Ron showed up.
As she got ready to go downstairs, she found herself wondering how George had found his way into her thoughts. The more she thought about him, the more attractive he seemed, and even his cavalier, cocky attitude toward school made her hot. How could she not have noticed him before? As she descended the stairs, thoughts consumed with her favorite sexy prankster, she abruptly stopped when she noticed that he was sitting on a couch right in front of her.
"Morning, Hermione," said George with a smile. That voice, she thought, remembering the way he had moaned her name in her dreams. Her panties began to get damp and she was surely blushing profusely. Then again, so was he.
"Good morning, George," she managed brightly. "Up early again?"
"Yeah, just wanted to keep you company 'til your other, less intelligent and attractive friends arrive to take my place," he said with a smirk. Hermione's eyes widened and her mouth quirked. Was she still dreaming? She subtly pinched herself.
"That's very thoughtful of you," she replied. Play it cool, play it cool. "I was actually just thinking about you." Why did you say that?
Now it was his turn to gape. "Oh, really? And why is that?"
"Just…. wondering how your essay went over with McGonagall," she blurted out, too shy to mention anything remotely sexual around him.
His expression fell back into composure. "I'm sure it went well, considering what a great tutor I had," he said with a wink.
Hermione blushed again. "That was really nice what you said about me."
"Oh, you mean how Ron is an oaf and you're underappreciated and all that? Meant every word." George grinned.
Hermione smiled. "That's sweet of you. Nobody else has ever told me that."
"Nobody else has ever-" George began.
Just then, Neville appeared in the common room. "Have either of you two seen my uniform trousers?" he asked.
Hermione shook her head. "Negative," George responded. "You have to stop leaving them places, Neville, we've had this talk before," he joked.
Neville chuckled. "I'll find them. Thanks, guys," and with that he traipsed back up the stairs.
Their moment gone, George went for the direct approach. "Want to come have breakfast with me?"
Hermione cocked her head in pleasant surprise. "Yeah, I'd like that," she said shyly. "Is the Great Hall even open yet?"
"We'll take the scenic route," George offered, standing up. Hermione giggled and stood up, and together (sweaty hands, racing heartbeats and all) they walked out of the portrait hole.
