"Hoodie": A Harry Potter Fanfiction
By: TheWonderingWizard
Rating: M
Warning: Adult situations and nudity.
Summary: Nope. To summarise it would be to ruin it, I think. Written in response to a prompt from blogharmonysworld that I found in the Harmony & Co Prompt Bank over on Tumblr. Standard disclaimer applies.
Harry's Flat
12 Diagon Alley
October 10th, 2005
The rain was driving in great heavy sheets against the windows of my flat. I had gotten soaked to the bone on my way home, my rain repelling charm never really was all that good I suppose. Then again, I'd been pretty scatter-brained had been a long day at the office, but at least it was Friday. My paperwork was all caught up, finally. The Ministry kept me busy, working in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I'd decided to not pursue a career as an Auror, too short a life expectancy lately. I wanted to live to an old age, and I'd had my fill of fighting. The kettle hisses as the water heats through, and I pour some off into a waiting pot to brew up a cuppa. I could have used magic to just boil it instantly, but the warmth from the hob works its way into my bones and warms away the chill from the rain. Artemis and Crookshanks were curled up on the rug by the fire, basking in its warmth and snoozing through the storm. I miss Hedwig, but have not had the desire to get another owl. No owl could replace her, anyway. Oh, they could do what she did without problem, but they could not take her place. So, Hermione and I decided to get another cat. The two of them took to each other very quickly, and have been nearly inseparable since.
I put supper on the cooker so it will be ready when my better half gets home. A hearty beef stew with mushrooms, barley, peas, baby onions, bacon, carrots, and a rich broth are called for on a night like this. I turn out some bread dough, shape it into a rough country boule onto a floured board, and get it ready into the oven. The flat soon smells like stew and warm bread, and smells great. I grew up doing the cooking for the Dursleys, so hearty stews and homemade bread are no sweat. I put some light jazz going on the stereo. Getting the stereo working in a magic home took a little bit of work, but it was worth it. I make sure that the crushed velvet box is still in my bedside table. I've got the whole thing planned out. I asked her parents last spring, and they happily agreed. I think back on when I met her, we were both eleven and on the train to school up in Scotland. She had been helping another student looking for his lost pet toad. We became close friends after an incident with a Troll on the loose. It was the hunt for all of the Horcruxes that the Dark Lord made that had cemented our relationship. Ron had abandoned us a couple of weeks before Christmas, and had never come back. To be perfectly honest, it was for the best. He was of little real use, and a real drain on our resources. Hermione was and is my everything.
She walks in, and I can tell that though she's dry, she's cold. "Hey, 'Mione. You look cold, let me get a hot bath going for you. Dinner is just about ready, but it can wait." Hermione smiles broadly, and accepts my offer. I get the bath going, and add her favourite lilac and lavender bubble bath to help her relax. We've been part of each other's lives since we were eleven, so we know each other far better than most couples. I can honestly say that I would have died several times over had it not been for Hermione. I dip two of my fingers into the water, checking to make sure it's where she likes it. Perfect. I cast a warming charm on her favourite bath towel and her robe, and use one spell to light the candles we keep around the large soaker tub. The door to the bath opens, and she pads into the room in her stocking feet, bra, and knickers. I excuse myself from the bath,closing the door behind me. I tip-toe to the bedroom and retrieve the little black velvet box to put in the drawer of the side table next to the sofa. Still on tip-toe, I go back into the sitting room to read the Daily Prophet as well as the Quibbler. Luna Lovegood has taken on the ownership of the periodical started by her father, and it has taken off. While still somewhat publishing stories that the Prophet won't cover, Luna has turned the fledgling magazine into a respectable source of information for the independent-minded witch or wizard. The Prophet has an article about how Kingsley has been doing since his election as Minister, and they're impressed with the job he's doing. Speaking of Kingsley, I wonder if he'll put in his name for another term next year. Then there's an article on the doings at Hogwarts. Professor McGonagall has done wonders for the school since she was unanimously voted in by the board of governors after the war. The new Muggle Studies curriculum was just one improvement she's made during her time in the Head office. It looks like she's planning on adding more electives for the next academic year, including a class on wizard law. That would be a class that Hermione would be ecstatic over.
I know Hermione will take a nice long soak in the tub, it's one of her purest pleasures. She soaks for a good thirty minutes, and then I hear the shower running. To some, having a shower after a bath might seem excessive. I know her, though. The tub is for relaxing and self-care, while the shower is for cleaning up. The door to the bath opens, and a cloud of steam escapes into the sitting room. Hermione glides from the bath to our bedroom wearing her robe and slippers, and has a thick towel wrapped like a turban round her long locks of bushy brown hair. There's a soft clicking sound, and I know it's the bedroom door.
Ten minutes later, Hermione saunters into the sitting room. She's got an old pair of her favourite sweatpants on, one of my hoodies from King's College, and has a pair of cotton crew socks on her feet. She's so beautiful, even when she's dressed like this. I know she never considered herself to be attractive in the first few years we were at Hogwarts together. I always found her cute, beautiful in her own way. Her intelligence, generous spirit, musical laugh, loving heart, and true courage make her more beautiful to me than her physical beauty. I love how beautiful she is on the outside as well, don't get me wrong here. I am a bloke, after all. She hit a growth spurt the summer before second year and gained five inches in height. Another growth spurt the following summer had her reach her current height of just a hair over five foot seven. Her legs are long and shapely, from years of walking up and down all those stairs at Hogwarts. She's always thought that her hair was an untamable mass of bushy curls. I look at her brown locks, and see gold highlights, teases of blond, a little red as well. I love being able to stand behind her, and just nuzzle my nose into her hair. I could get lost in those eyes, like two pools of warm cinnamon with flecks of gold. Her face is well-proportioned, and her lips are just oh so kissable. Her nose is patrician and elegant, and it makes me remember how often she had it in the air our first year, and our second, and parts of the other years. I love how graceful her neck is. Her arms are toned like her legs, the result of having all those books to carry. Merlin, how I love her breasts. Her bust measures at a perfect 36 D, with tan areolae and cute little nipples. Her stomach is slightly rounded and soft, but she is not fat at all. She keeps her pubic hair to a minimal patch on her mound. Her pussy lips are delicate and soft, very sensitive to touch and slightly ticklish. I've read that some would compare the female genitals to a flower, and that's appropriate. Her vagina is exquisite and beautiful, with a scent and nectar I find exotic, yet very familiar and comforting. Her cute little arsehole reminds me of a star,and it contracts when I bring her to orgasm with my tongue and fingers. Her clitoris, what a wonderful little pearl that is. When I touched it for the first time, she shuddered and gasped. Bingo. I love being able to squeeze and pinch her cute and well-formed bum when she's cooking, or at our bookshelves looking for just the right book. Then, there's her scent. She always smells so good, and she almost never wears perfume. I would describe her scent as being a mix of flowers,vanilla, parchment, and ink. Her hands are almost delicate, with long fingers and nails that are always nicely trimmed. Her voice is still that mid-alto that it has been since fourth year, and it carries her intelligence, wit and charm perfectly. Gods, how I love this woman. I can never be sure which divine being put us on the same path, but I am ever grateful. My love, my best friend, my dream, my Hermione.
We both ladle stew into our earthenware bowls, part of a set we'd picked up on holiday in Italy. About a week after the Battle of Hogwarts, we went on a very important mission to Australia, and found her parents. Hermione was able to restore their memories that she had locked away before the Horcrux hunt. I thought she had wiped all memories her parents had of having a daughter. She had actually very cleverly siphoned out those memories and put them into unbreakable memory containers. I then stashed them in my vault at Gringotts under a Fidelius charm, with our friend Elizabeth acting as Secret Keeper. After restoring those memories to Dan and Emma, it was a very tearful reunion. Hermione thought that her parents would never forgive her for what she'd done. They quickly put that notion to rest. They knew that she loved them, and wanted to keep them as safe as possible. Once our trip "down under" was complete, I decided we needed a holiday. We spent a month in Italy, traveling completely like Muggles and it was a reward beyond price to live in a world that was at peace. We sat at our small cherry table, and enjoyed our stew and bread. Hermione uncorked a bottle of Bordeaux that we really enjoyed, and savoured her first sip after pouring two glasses.
After dinner, we snuggled on the sofa while the fire in the fireplace continued to blaze warmly. We dug into a dark chocolate cake with raspberry mousse filling and a dark chocolate mirror glaze from a pastry shoppe we both loved over in a market off of Charing Cross Road. That the market was on the other side of a row of buildings from Diagon Alley did not phase the Muggles, or us, one bit. It was time. When Hermione had been in the kitchen to fix us some more tea, I popped the ring box into the pocket of my Aran jumper. We're back on the sofa now, and relaxing into our Friday night, I bring her right foot into my lap, and start to give her a foot rub. We started this tradition in fifth year, when Hermione started carrying even more books than before because it was our OWL year. Hermione sighs gratefully as I knead circles into the ball of her right foot with my thumb. After giving proper attention to her right foot and ankle, I take her other foot across my lap. Hermione has her eyes just barely open right now, a contented smile crossing her lips. Mid-way through kneading the arch of her left foot, I "noticed" that she was wearing my favourite hoodie.
"'Mione, I think you're stealing from me" I say, with a perfectly straight face.
"What do you mean, Harry?" She says, opening her eyes and a look of alarm spreading across her face.
"You're wearing my favourite hoodie again, like you own it. You've also stolen my heart, completely. They're yours to keep, always." I say, stopping my massage of her foot. She sits up, with her hands together in her lap.
She looks at me with confusion in those warm cinnamon eyes, and she's putty in my hands. "You wear my old Quidditch jersey as a nightie. You've taken it as yours, and I give it freely. There's one thing I have that you can steal from me, and that's my last name." I move off of the sofa to get down on one knee in front of her, holding her hands in mine. "Hermione Jean Granger, I love you with all of my heart and all of my being. You're the one I want to spend the rest of my life with, and in the next great adventure beyond. I would be completely lost without you in my life." I reach into my pocket, grabbing the ring box and bringing it up. Popping the hinge to reveal the beautiful ring, I see her eyes starting to glisten with tears. "Hermione, will you marry me? Will you take the Potter name as yours, as you've taken my hoodie, and my heart?"
She's silent for half a heartbeat, and then she grabs me in one of her wonderful hugs. "Yes! Yes! Yes, I will marry you, Harry James Potter!" She's crying, but they're tears of joy. She starts peppering my face with little kisses, before passionately kissing me on the lips. We kiss like that for a few minutes, before realizing we need to come up for air. Hermione leans her forehead against mine, and we just hold each other. Hermione pulls me to my feet and then pushes me to the sofa. She sits across my lap and puts her feet on the floor. We rub our noses together, and I slip the ring onto her finger. It's a perfect fit, and it looks stunning on her finger like that. I picked a diamond that had belonged to my grandmother, Dorea Potter. The shape was perfect, the color was astounding, and would have been foolish to not use it. I had it set into a delicately crafted band of yellow gold that was also set with rubies, Gryffindor colours for a true lion of Gryffindor.
I stroke the side of her face with a finger, and renew our kissing. She runs her tongue along my lips, and I open my mouth to revive it. Our tongues dance together as we start to caress and touch. I let my tongue tease her own, then lick her upper lip and behind her upper teeth. I know she loves it when I do that, and . Without breaking the kiss, Hermione straddles my lap and fists her hands in my hair. I moan greedily, and start to kiss down her neck. She looks at me with heavily hooded eyes, I see a rising passion in each cinnamon orb. Hermione runs her fingernails down my arms and across my chest while I bring a hand up inside the hoodie. She's not wearing a bra, and my fingers dance across her breasts. Her nipples harden straight straight away, and she gets a case of goosebumps as I lavish attention on her wonderful tits. Hermione pulls my jumper off of me, then starts to undo the buttons on my shirt while kissing me along my jawline and down my neck. She plants a lingering kiss on my collarbone, nibbling a little. That little move is one that gets me every time, and Hermione knows it. We continue to snog, caress and fondle on the sofa for a time. I move my hands from her hair and her breasts to hold her under her bum. We move forward a bit, and she wraps her legs around my waist, locking ankles at my back. That's my cue to move things to the bedroom. Moving there takes a little more effort than usual, because Hermione keeps kissing up and down my neck, my jaw, and my earlobe. Just inside the door to the bedroom, I gently pin her to the wall so I can return the favour. She's practically clawing at my shirt front as I kiss and nibble her earlobe, then down her neck and to the base of her throat.
Putting a hand palmside against the wall, Hermione pushes us away from the wall and unwraps her legs from around me. Without skipping a beat her mouth is on mine again, while the buttons of my shirt come open. I shrug out of it, letting it fall wherever on the floor. Hermione uses this time to undo my belt and yank my jeans down to the floor. I get a handful of hoodie in each hand, and bring it up and off of her. She's wearing my old quidditch t-shirt under the hoodie, and it quickly gets added to the pile of clothes on the floor. We embrace, kissing hungrily and touching wherever we could find sensitive flesh. I tuck my thumbs into the waistband of her sweatpants, and draw them down her legs as I kneel in front of her. I kiss down each of her legs, starting at the hip. I know it's what Hermione likes by the way she's playing with my hair and moaning. She tumbles onto our king sized bed, while I work on getting her sweats and socks off. I start to kiss and lick up her legs, starting with her left. I make sure to rub behind the crook of her left knee, it's one of her hottest touch points. After kissing up the left leg, I repeat the process on her other leg. Hermione props herself up on her elbows to watch me. I get closer and closer to the apex of her thighs, and can feel the warmth radiating off her. Her blue silk knickers are almost sopping now, and the scent of her nectar fills my nostrils. I stand up to pick her up and move her to the middle of the bed. I'm only clad in my boxers at the moment, and my erection strains against the material, begging to be released. I see Hermione give me an appreciative once-over, and her gaze lingers on the bulge in my underwear. She licks her lips, so slowly and carnally. I grin at her, and reach my hands to pull her knickers off. I teasingly pull them down her legs, like someone slowly opening a present. Hermione lets her legs spread apart invitingly, and I see my goal. Laying down on my stomach, I start kissing up the insides of her thighs.
"HHHHHHAAAAAAARRRRRRYYYYYY" she moans. "Don't tease me like that." I can only grin like the kneazle that ate the canary. I trace my index fingers up and down the outside of her slit, and her clitoris seems to wink at me as it rises from its hood. This was a time to savour. I teasingly run my tongue from her clit, down her labia, and then back up again. Using strokes of my tongue like I'm enjoying my favourite ice cream, I bring her lower lips apart. My nose is right next to her clit, and I use that to my advantage as my tongue goes to work inside her inner lips and into her vagina. Gods above, she's so tasty. Her breathing picks up now, and she clutches the duvet in one hand while playing with her breasts with the other. A light sheen on sweat is working its way across her brow and chest. I've got a hand on either thigh, but move one to stroke up her belly and join her hand at her tits. The index finger of my other hand joins my tongue in bringing Hermione close to the edge. "HHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRYYYYYY!" she's rolling her head back and forth, the ecstasy building up. "Harry James Potter! If you keep that up, I won't be able to…."What she won't be able to do is lost in her throat as her first orgasm breaks, her legs grip my head almost like a vice, but it's worth the pain. She bucks her bum up and down, grinding her slit against my face. Hermione starts to shudder and has more goosebumps. The first wave recedes, but she has minor aftershocks as she comes down from that high. Hermione taps the mattress next to her with her open palm, beckoning me to lay beside her. I happily comply, grinning like a fool.
Hermione Jean Granger, brightest witch of her age, has a goofy, blissful, "just fucked" look about her. Words are failing her as she rolls over to cuddle into my side. Hermione drapes a leg over mine, her knee right next to my throbbing erection. We lay there like that for a few minutes, then she kisses me tenderly, tasting herself on my lips. Both of us know we aren't done yet, not by a long shot. Hermione props herself up on her right elbow, then moves her hand down my chest, my stomach, and into the waistband of my boxers. I feel her fingers encircle my knob, and I exhale in a long shuddering breath. She grins at me, then plants kisses in the same line where her hand had been. Scooting down to lay between my splayed legs, she kisses my cock through the fabric, starting at the root and working to the head. Her hands grope for the waistband, and she yanks them down my legs. My erection springs loose from its encumbrance and stands proud. Before we saw each other naked in an intimate setting, Hermione heard that most guys measure somewhere around four and a half inches from crown to base, and maybe three quarters of an inch around. The first time Hermione laid eyes on my penis, she said she estimated it at six and a half from base to crown, and just over an inch around. I looked at her, looking at my knob like a kid gazing at a tasty lollipop. Hermione starts moving her hand up and down my shaft while her other hand starts to roll one of my balls around in a circle. I feel her tongue at the base of my shaft, where it meets my scrotum. She gives me a long, wet lick up one side and down the other. Gods, I love it when sucks me off like this. She takes the head in her mouth, just a little, and swirls her deft tongue around it. Then, she opens her lips more to take more of me into her hot mouth. The hand that's on my shaft hasn't gone away, either. Hermione tried to take the whole thing the first time she gave me a blowjob, and almost choked. Since then, she's been able to take almost two thirds. Who would have thought that Hermione Granger would be so good at giving head. Hermione bobs her mouth up and down while applying suction. This goes on for a couple of minutes, then she switches to licking my balls. I've never had much in the way of body hair, and I keep my groin hair free. My preferred method is to just use a quick spell to remove it every other day. The Muggle ways did not appeal to me in the least. Oh, fuck! Hermione sucks one of my balls into her hot mouth, and I feel her tongue all over it and then the other one. Then, she goes back to licking and sucking my knob. I feel the pressure start to build in my balls, and then move up into my shaft. " 'Mione, I think I'm gonna cum!" I groan as her suction picks up. I see her nod, and then she clamps her mouth around me completely. I groan again, and release four or five spurts of hot white cum into her waiting mouth and throat. Hermione releases me with a loud pop, and then tilts her head back to swallow my cum. She pushes up from the mattress, and sits back with her bum on her calves. Her long brown hair is a tangled mess, and she has a look of lust in her eyes. I pat the mattress next to me, and she teasingly crawls back up to lay next to me. We cuddle for a few minutes, kissing and caressing while giving ourselves a break before the next round.
Hermione rolls over and stands up. "Sorry, just need the loo" she says and pads naked across the flat to the bathroom. That has me thinking maybe I should make our main bathroom a water closet, and add a bathroom in here. The bedroom is certainly large enough. Hhmmm, yeah. Maybe check with 'Mione to see what she thinks of the idea. She's back after a couple of minutes, and stands in the doorway looking at me. "Are you going to shag me now, Mister Potter?" she asks, with a coy smile. "That was the idea, future Mrs Potter." I respond. Calling her that makes her blush from her cheeks down to her sternum, and smile from one ear to the other. She lays back down next to me, and we embrace again. It's barely a couple of minutes before I'm rock hard again and ready to go. Hermione holds onto my shoulder blades, and I roll us over so I'm on top. Propping myself on my forearms, I look into her eyes. I kiss her on the side of her neck as I start to push into her warm depths. Gods, she's tight. Hermione crosses her ankles behind my butt, and I'm fully sheathed in her in an instant. I start to pull back, and then push in again. I start slowly, teasingly, just how she likes it. Hermione likes starting out in the missionary position, because it's gentle and very intimate. She also says it reminds her of our first time, which has me thinking of that first time. I was up in my old dorm room in Gryffindor. The Battle of Hogwarts was over, and the Dark Lord was finished for good. Hermione came into the room, and lay down next to lay side by side for a little while, then she said that she wanted to take the next step in our relationship. At that point, we'd been together for over seven months. Becoming a couple was almost a formality at that point. We had been together for a while, but we became "us" after Ron had left. What had changed our relationship from friends to a couple was when Hermione kissed me on the mouth when we switched watch over the campsite. Things just sort of, happened. We didn't need to talk about it at all. So, our first time together was on my old bed in Gryffindor. It was appropriate that it was there, because Hogwarts was home to me. It wasn't as awkward as it could have been, because we already knew almost everything about each other. It was just, really good.
I come back to the present, and Hermione is panting now, scratching my back. She's so incredibly wet that I slide in and out without effort. "That's it, Harry. Just like that!" Hermione encourages me. The inner walls of her pussy start to ripple, and I know she's getting close. I start pumping harder and faster to bring her over the edge. Her mouth is open in a silent moan, and I feel her pussy tighten around my knob, bringing it deeper into her depths. I feel the head of my cock rubbing against her cervix, and it's a good feeling to have. Her ankles are still crossed behind my bum, and we are both getting closer to hitting our peak. Hermione shifts her hips side to side, like she's twitching her bum . It's this move that shifts my cock into a better angle, and that puts us over the edge. She almost screams my name as I release my semen into her pussy, filling her up. We're both gasping for air, but she lifts her head up to kiss me, as only Hermione can. I smile, and then pull myself out of her. Hermione exhales deeply, and I see a small flood of our juices leak out of her glistening slit.
"Sweet Maeve! I think you've flooded me, Harry!" Hermione says, sitting up to look at the flow of cum and nectar leaking out of her. She's flush from her hairline to her nipples, and her eyes are a little glazed over. She casts a quick scourgify spell, and the pool vanishes. It's time for more cuddling, and pillow talk. I reach over and grab the water glass next to me, making sure Hermione drinks first. She takes it, and drains it in three swallows. The glass refills, and I drink deep before setting the glass back down. Hermione puts a hand on my shoulder, and guides me back down to the mattress. Shifting over, she lays half on top of me, with her head on my chest. It's a position we've been in before, even before we started being "us". During sixth year, Hermione would have flashbacks and nightmares about the fight at the Department of Mysteries. So, she would sneak into my dorm and work her way under the covers with me. She said it made her feel safe, protected, and warm.
It isn't long before our kissing and caressing resume, and I'm good to go. Hermione has me sit up in a half lotus pose, so she can ride me like that. We took up yoga after leaving Hogwarts, and found it helps to ground us on many levels. I open my arms wide, and she puts one leg on either side of mine, before wrapping her arms around means plunging my cock into her waiting core again. The trick to this position is for both partners to rock side to side and to and fro. This has us both stimulated and feeling complete. "Ooohhh, just like that, 'Mione." I say, as she starts to rock her hips forward and back to match my thrusting. Her tits bounce and rub against my chest as we move together, and it feels fucking fantastic. We keep this going for a few minutes, then she stretches her hands behind her, and leans back. Now, Hermione changes the depths and angle of how I'm inside her. In this variation, she also puts her clit into closer contact with my groin. I do her one better by circling it with my thumb as she grinds on me. With how she's moving, my knob is stretching her lower lips beautifully, and it's so hot seeing her like this. Hermione paws at one of her tits, lowering her mouth to tongue a stiff nipple. Our pants and moans fill the room with sound that matches the sound of skin slapping against skin.
Hermione sits back up, arms wrapped tightly around me, while she starts to kiss my shoulder and neck. Her hands push my back onto the bed, and she shifts her legs so she straddles me. Pushing up using her thighs, I slip out gently. Hermione gently grasps my shaft in her soft hand, and guides me in again. She lets herself sink down on my rod, sighing contentedly. We're like this for a minute or two, not moving, not speaking. That's when she leans forward to grasp my shoulders, and moves her pussy up and down in quick strokes. Gods, she's wild when she does this! Seizing her moment, Hermione lowers her upper body and starts to suck on my collarbone. Oh, fuck! That feels so fucking hot! I feel her teeth sink in, and it's even more erotic. It's animalistic and raw, and I love it! I hear a popping noise as Hermione releases her mouth from my collarbone to look at her handiwork. I glance at the reddening mark, and it looks like it's going to be a good hickey. I won't magic it away, though. "You're mine now, Harry. And, I am yours" she says, keeping up the rhythm of her riding me. Almost losing control of the swaying action of her hips, Hermione keeps going, keeps up her tempo. She's getting close to another orgasm, and wants to take me with her. Hermione sits up, and I take the opportunity to flip us over. I lift her bum up, and put her legs over my shoulders. From this angle, I can really drive my cock into different angles of her aching pussy. Hermione is grabbing the sheets in a white-knuckle grip as her pussy undulates around my shaft. She's chanting in an ancient tongue, making our fucking into a ritual. With one last thrust, we both crash into a violent shaking orgasm that rocks the hard maple bed frame. Her pussy is so tight on me, it's almost like a vice. I grunt loudly, and my seed comes spurting out, flowing into her in a torrent. We stay like this for a few moments, riding out the aftershocks of our mutual climax. My knob comes out of Hermione with an audible pop. She lowers her feet to the mattress, followed by her bum, keeping her knees bent. I'm kneeling on the mattress with her legs to either side of me, gazing at the woman I love. A light sheen of sweat glistens on her creamy skin from hairline to her navel, her chest is rising and falling deeply as she gets her breath, and I can see her smiling contentedly. I lower my gaze past her belly button, to her mound, and then between her legs. A flow of my spunk and her juices is slowly pooling on the mattress under her quivering pussy.
Exhausted in a totally good way, I crawl up the bed to collapse beside Hermione. A quick Scourgify cleans the mess from the mattress, and Siccatio vanishes the sheen of sweat off of us. Another couple of glasses of water each, and I summon two snifters of cognac. I lean back against the pillows and the headboard. Hermione snuggles into my side, her head against my chest again. Basking in the afterglow of what we both agree was our best shag yet, the endorphins and cognac leave us more than a little goofy. We start to form vague ideas about our wedding. Who would officiate the ceremony? Who would stand as the best man and the maid of honour? When would we have it? Hermione slowly traces lazy figure eights on my chest, as I twirl some of her long hair around a finger and release it. "Gods, Harry. If I weren't on the Potion, we'd be planning for a baby before a wedding" she says. As usual, my Hermione is right. Even before we started having sex, Hermione was taking a contraceptive Potion. She had started taking it in third year to help regulate her cycles and keep them nearly pain free.
" 'Mione, how many kids do we want? I mean, I think we'd be good parents" I state, looking into her eyes.
"Harry. Of course I want children. I want our children. Having as many as the Weasleys would be too many, but two or three would be nice." Hermione kisses my chest, my neck, and my jaw before taking my lips in hers. The kisses are tender, just slow drinking motions really. I cast a Tempus and see that it's after eleven. Gods, we've been at it for over three hours.
" 'Mione, we should let our families and friends know about our news," I say. Hermione pouts at me, but then agrees.
"I can't wait to Floo call Luna and show her the ring! I can owl mum and dad in the morning. Remus and Tonks are probably sound asleep, and I don't want to bring their ire by waking baby Andi. Hannah and Neville are on holiday in Majorca, still in the newlywed stage. Susan will be over the moon. Sirius and Anne might still be awake, it's only just barely tea time in New York. Or should we send a post owl for them. I wonder what the going rate for trans-oceanic owl post is these days. Actually, maybe we could apparate to see mum and dad. Yes, that would be best…" Hermione stops when she hears me start to laugh.
"What's so funny, Harry?" Hermione crooked an inquisitive eyebrow at me, which calms my laughter.
After wiping a couple of happy tears from my eyes, I look at her."I didn't mean right this instant, 'Mione. It can wait until morning, right? Can we enjoy some time to ourselves before getting inundated with Floo calls and owl post messages of congratulations?" I ask, hoping I didn't sound like I was begging.
Hermione smiles at me. "Yes. Now that I look at it, it would be rather rude to start shouting from the housetops about our news at this hour. It's been a long day, and it would be easier to share the news after we get some sleep. Besides, I'm too tired now. I just want to fall asleep snuggled up with my man, my fiance."
Fiance, the word rolls off of her tongue like it's sung rather than spoken. We're engaged! I'm engaged to Hermione Jean Granger, and that is beautiful. Hermione scoots off of the bed, and I get a how as she bends down to pick her knickers up from the floor. She runs a finger along her slit, teasingly, before covering it with her underwear and a pair of sleep shorts. I see my old quidditch shirt get picked up next, and Hermione slowly dons it with her back to me. I smile when I see the name Potter across her back before it's covered by her hair. Hermione Jean Potter, it suits her. While Hermione walks out to the bath so she can brush her teeth, I grab a pair of sleep shorts and a favourite t-shirt from my dresser. We both brush our teeth, our bodies sated. I lay down in bed first, the soft top sheet pulled back. Hermione turns the lamps down, and crawls into bed next to me. I kiss the top of her head, and reach over to put my glasses on the nightstand. I smile as I take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of Hermione, and fall asleep in an instant.