Granger, we need to talk
Chapter 38
Ah, the delusions beyond avarice I have been dreaming of if JK Rowling and others
had signed over the rights to the Harry Potter universe.
However, they did not.
But they were such wonderful delusions.
/**
"Sorry, Heiress Greengrass," responded the crisp voice of Hermione. "Tonight, I have planned to have The Talk with Harry, as it appears that no adult male figures have done so. Therefore, unless you are volunteering to be my demonstration mannequin for the night, I suggest you observe propriety and not stay an unchaperoned night in the home of an already affianced man."
Hermione could not keep herself from smirking hugely at the fish-out-of-water imitation the gasping blonde was performing. She was definitely having trouble controlling her laughter. Winding up the usually unflappable blonde was very . . . satisfying.
"Oh, don't look so concerned, Heiress," she continued. "I will still be a virgin in the morning. However, after the Ministry New Years' Eve gala, I make no guarantees."
/**
December 30, 1998
Everybody, with one exception, wondered why Harry was not a bundle of nerves that day. In fact, he was so distracted that he had barely acknowledged even Ron's and Hermione's presence around him all morning, even when they separated to go to their Wizengamot seats.
Harry was sitting as Lord Potter-Black in his chair in the Wizengamot as the debate on taxing the marked Death Eaters dragged on. The PureBlood faction was incensed that they were going to lose a fight on taxing the formerly untouchable Heads of Houses more than the paltry sums they had acceded to in the past.
The unpalatable fact that the deceased Heads were all Death Eaters was ignored.
Harry worked at looking interested. But, last night occupied his thoughts.
The faction was already short one voting member as the ministry employee who had advanced the planned taxes versus fines, had mysteriously been fired by a Department Head not in his own department two days ago. After being reinstated, complete with raise within the hour, the young wizard had been accosted in a hallway by Lord Frickston, and after being constantly rebuffed by the young man, Frickston had pulled his wand, cast an Impero, and had been immediately stunned by an Auror who had been detailed to keep anything from happening to the young wizard who was regarded by many common wizards as a hero.
As a Head of House was involved, a full trial before the Wizengamot was required and would be held immediately after the Death Eater tax plan was voted on.
The attempts first to claim the `upstanding citizens' who had died en masse were `Imperiused', had been jeered at so loudly that it had taken the Chief Witch almost five minutes and then threats of sanctions to quiet the assembly. Too many confessions from Death Eaters captured prior to the Battle of Hogwarts had been published and provided ample testimony that not only did a Death Eater need to eagerly want the mark, the vile acts it took to impress Riddle should have had them sentenced to death in anything other than a corrupt Wizengamot.
Harry worked at looking interested. However, almost all his thoughts drifted to last night.
Another telling cast by Lord Castleward was the weak-mindedness of those `Imperiused' who had not managed to break the curse over a three-year period.
Several comments from the visitors' gallery about weak-minded, in-bred PureBloods, were loud enough to be heard in the member tiers.
In the end, the loud blustering and posturing by the Dark PureBlood's was for naught. The new, and revealed to be powerful, Potter-Black faction had carried the day by a comfortable margin.
The Dark would spend their future crippled in producing new mischief without the funds from what had been most of the richest Lords in Britannia. The days of merely bribing the usual members for the usual paltry sums (Due to the competition from the others who wanted to be bribed.) were over. Those that looked into the future could see an era of very expensive, because they needed to be very quiet, payoffs. The remaining old PureBlood's who would hang on to their galleons had a fair amount of gold. But it would only take backing two or three lost causes to cripple them also.
Very few of them would be willing to sacrifice their comfort and influence if the alternative was throwing galleons down a ferret hole with no return in sight.
The Frickston trial was a quick affair.
Testimony from the Auror involved, a Priori Incatanto on Lord Frickston's wand, and the verdict of life in Azkaban was mandated. Everyone except the Dark Faction voted guilty. They abstained.
Andromeda had leaned forward to impress upon Harry to remember the abstentions as they should become a derisive reply to any of the Dark trying to bully a favorable vote.
Harry worked at looking interested. However, last night had all his memory attention.
Finally, after lunch, the Ministerial Department Organization Recapitulation Act bill came to a vote. The required ninety days between legislative introduction and the vote to enact had passed.
Somehow, no one on the Dark Faction had caught on that some of the ambiguous language of the bill did not mean that the act was to merely confirm the additional new departments and sections added to the Ministry during the Pius Thickness administration for continuing budgetary purposes.
Harry and his more prominent allies had kept their involvement with the Act quiet.
All talk that was allowed to be overheard by the Dark Faction had been done deliberately by low-level workers concerned with budgetary requirements for the new departments. Apparently the Dark had dismissed fighting for or against the bill as they believed there would be little impact on their control of the Ministry bureaucracy.
And as proposed amendments were defeated and debate droned on, Harry was interested but did not join the debate.
The Act's hidden purpose was to eliminate and consolidate departments and sections with an emphasis on the department and section heads that had been added with no ministerial or Wizengamot action or confirmation.
The PureBlood's had merely walked into the department's offices and declared they had been put in charge. At the time of ministry chaos following Riddle's defeat, no one had objected because they had not wanted the ire of still powerful PureBlood families pointed at them. An objector could have been dead right, but members of certain families could have made them just dead.
Anyone who did not have the parchment work as to how, and when they were appointed, could, and probably would, be called before the Wizengamot to explain. A year ago, being part of the PureBlood network would have seen them confirmed in their positions. With the new composition of the Wizengamot, and some words in the proper ears, they would be removed from their position, and let go from the Ministry as `excess to revised ministry requirements' or for possibly prosecuted for having fraudulently claiming ministerial placement.
Virtually all the Secretaries and Undersecretaries that had mysteriously appeared in the Ministry after the Battle as shown to Hermione in the second Greengrass book back in September, were for the chop.
And with a bit o' luck, the PureBlood hammerlock on the magical bureaucracy would be gone. As the group had discussed many months ago, the 'Mot may make laws, but the bureaucracy could easily change the law's intent by their strong or weak enforcement.
The vote went as expected. The Dark voted Nay and most of the Wizengamot voted with what they perceived would be the winners and the Act passed by a wide margin.
The mood was celebratory in the Potter-Black offices after the session ended. Harry, the Sisters and most of his allies stayed to pass out good liquor, some glad-handing, and some listening to minor members of the still loose alliance voice opinions on the next steps that they wanted to see taken.
And everyone congratulated him on his engagement. Harry worked at seeming interested. However, most of his attention was on last night's memories.
Hermione smiled and dealt out harmless pleasantries. But, only she knew that she was smiling from last night's memories.
Oooooo vvvvvv oooooO
[Very Lime-y almost lemony ahead. You've been warned.]
Last night at Potter Manor.
It was going to happen. The dread twisting Harry's guts was akin to waiting to face the dragon in the tournament. This happening was just as dangerous and liable to see him killed by embarrassment.
Hermione had sent him up to his room with instructions to wait on the bed and to have no clothes on.
The clicking of the door latch almost levitated Harry off the bed. Hermione calmly strolled in wearing a short, fluffy white robe that instantly drew Harry's eyes to her long, lovely legs.
She pulled her wand from a pocket and warded and silenced the door and wall on the hallway.
Turning back towards Harry she walked up to his bed. Her gentle smile when she could see he was not hiding under any cloth scraps, slowed his hammering heart a bit. That lasted until without further ado, she untied and dropped the robe into a pool at her feet.
He could see she was wearing her in-his-dreams, two shades of blue camisole and shorts sleepwear, with her pointy-bits being . . pointy. As he valiantly worked on looking at her eyes, he realized she was wearing bright red lipstick and a lot of brown color over her eyes that made them look huge and wanton.
She stood tall and proud for a long moment before raising her arm and pushing the camisole straps over her shoulders. With a shrug and an attention-getting shimmy, the dark blue fabric slipped down her body to puddle at her feet.
Again, she paused and let Harry get a long look at her. Harry locked onto the long, faint scar that ran from above her left collar bone almost down to her right hip. This revelation tossed him so hard into his memories of that fight, and Dolohov's curse that had gutted him, that he missed Hermione sliding her knickers off her hips to join the other garments on the floor.
When his eyes reconnected to his brain. Harry almost passed out. There in front of him was the most beautiful sight ever. Pale pinkish-brown nipples (Those were nipples weren't they?) topped the wonderful half-globes of her breasts. (Oh, Merlin! Her boobies! I can see her boobie-e-es!)
It registered in his brain that despite staring at her breasts, his peripheral vision did not see her blue knickers. That popped his eyes down to the juncture of her legs. (She . . she's . . n-n-n-not weah . . wa) All Harry could see was a darker brown line leading up to a less than inch wide strip of curly brown hair that reached a few inches up towards her lower belly.
In spite of her outward confident demeanor, Hermione's nerve finally broke as it seemed from her perspective that Harry was about to pass out. She stepped to the bed and hopped up onto it.
She crawled up to the head of the bed and fluffed a couple of pillows. She could see Harry desperately trying to look and then not look at her `naughty' parts. Getting the pillows arranged, she laid down on her back, next to Harry, with her upper body propped up.
Then she lay there letting Harry look all he wanted.
It took a few minutes but she suddenly noticed that he was looking at everywhere on her body except at her sexual parts. "Oh, you noble idiot," she thought. "you keep thinking you will be disrespectful if you see my `bits'"
"Love," she said, touching him so he was looking her squarely in the eyes. "Most couples our age would be doing this in the dark, fumbling around, trying to figure out what goes where and how. Well, I don't learn well using the grope, flub, and bungle method of learning."
"Professor Granger is at the podium."
Harry's eyes were the size of saucers. He was starting to pant.
"In order to learn, Harry, you need to know the proper names for everything." She snapped her fingers in front of his nose to center his attention. "This is a nipple. I have two of them. One for each breast. This coloured area outside of my nipple is called an areola. Do you think they're pretty? I kinda wish they were pinker. I think then they would look prettier."
Watching Harry almost hyperventilate into unconsciousness was not only humorous, but had the effect of calming her jittering nerves.
Raising her hand and moving it across his vision to lock his attention to it, she placed it palm down, fingers together, covering the thin strip of curly brown hair just above the juncture of her legs.
"See how this is like a small hill, Love? It's called the Mound of Venus. I usually have much more hair here, but I removed most of it so you could see clearly. See these flower petal-like lips? The large pinky-brown ones are called the Labia Majoris, the smaller, pinker inner lips around my vagina opening are called the Labia Minoris."
Hermione used her fingers to spread her `lips'. "This opening is my vagina, Harry. This is where you will put your penis. This little hole up here, is my urethra. That's where I urinate or pee from. You will NOT go sticking things in there, got it?"
An almost passing out Harry somehow managed to gurgle in what she took as agreement.
"Good. Stay with me, Love, only two more places. See this little knob up here?" Nod. "Thank you, Harry. It's almost hidden by this bit of skin." She pulled the skin back. "It's called the clitoris and can be very sensitive. You're going to have to learn how to rub it, or stroke near it, if I'm feeling too sensitive for direct contact."
"Last, you need to learn about my Bartholin's Glands. See these spots? They are actually tiny little pores. Look closer Harry, they are what make the lubricant that allows you to fit in me without causing pain from friction. Listen up, Harry, always make sure that I'm lubricated and wet before you put yo . . Merciful Maeve!" (1)
Wide-eyed, shocked pause.
"Yes, we are definitely going to have to be very wet to fit that in there."
Hermione spent many seconds lost in thought before shaking herself and returning to her lecture.
"Harry? Give me your hand." As Harry blindly followed Hermione's instruction, she placed it on her collarbone where her scar started. She let go of his hand. "Now trace the scar, Harry. Use your fingers."
Harry shakily started to do as she demanded, but when his fingers trailed over her breast near her nipple, his fingers shied away inwards towards her breastbone.
"Uh-uh, Lover," she said sharply, grabbing his hand. "Follow the scar. You know it will make me feel better. Remember how you used to rub your forehead scar? Well, get with the program, Harry."
After ten minutes of slowly stroking his hand up and down her scar, and just as he was relaxing, she whispered, "Now stroke me from one hip to the other." And again, grabbed his hand to guide him into stroking from one hipbone to the other.
She worked at keeping her eyes open, watching him as he cycled from wide-eyed wonderment to squinched-eyed (2) embarrassment. "Now, up from my hip to my shoulder, Harry. Ah, now back down a-a-nd across my hips to up the other side, a-a-a-nd now back down."
Encouragement. "That's wonderful, Harry, keep going. U-U-Um, very good Harry. Now look at my areoles again, see how crinkled they are? And my nipple is thickened and hardened? Cover my breast with your hand. No, not the side, right there on top, A-a-a—ah yes."
"Now kiss it, Harry, kiss my other breast." Pause. "No, NOT a little peck, Harry, open your mouth, use your tongue, and . . ."
"Oh, ye-s-s-s-s-!"
That last reaction from Hermione made Harry feel as if he was soaring on a hippogryph. In spite of his vision and hearing that had both occasionally faded as his brain overloaded, he had worked hard at assimilating the visual catalog his love had shown him.
If Professor Hermione wanted him to take a practical exam along with her theoretical lecture, he would worship at her podium. The revelation flashed into him that by paying very close attention to her reactions to every hand rub, every finger stroke, every kiss on her flesh, he could bring feelings of intense pleasure to the person who meant more to him than life itself.
Harry was determined to pass this class with an Outstanding.
"Now, the big denouement. Watch my hand, Harry love. See as I stroke my finger up and down? Now, I want you to do the same."
Pause
"Yes, that does make me feel good. Notice how I am becoming slick and slippery? That means I like what you are doing. Now, use two fingers and keep caressing me. Spread the fluid out and around and up to my clitoris. Easy, don't rub it hard, remember it's sensitive."
"That's it, just like that. Keep my nub between your fingers on the upstroke. Ye-e-s-s-s, keep that rhythm, Harry."
Harry started to get worried about how noisy Hermione was becoming when his conscious side kicked in. He wasn't in his dorm where `rubbing one off' had to be done carefully and privately. He was in a room that was silenced! No one could hear them!
Relieved in his mind, Harry reapplied himself to paying very close attention to Hermione's reactions to where he stroked, how much pressure he used in a caress, and tried doing several things at once to his lover.
As far as he was concerned, the results were fantastic. Hermione started moaning and panting. Her hips started lifting into his hand and urging him to move faster.
Suddenly she pulled him down into a searing kiss, in the middle of which, she yanked his head back, slammed her hips up into his stroking hand, and screamed his name like a banshee.
"Yes!" he thought. "So that's what they meant!" Pride swelled within him as years of overheard, private, guy talk suddenly made some sense.
Unfortunately, in his concentration on Hermione and his bout of self-congratulation, Harry had not noticed what his hips had been doing. He had been rubbing himself along the thigh of her spread leg, and poking into her lower belly.
With a groan of embarrassment, Harry erupted all over her abdomen. And the jerking of his spasms had his semen flying everywhere. His feeling of shame was total.
In his humiliation, he started to move away from his love. But, as soon as Hermione started to feel his withdrawal, she wrapped herself around him and refused to let him go.
"This was perfect, Harry. Now, hold me and never let me go. I want to enjoy this afterglow."
And so, he did, and did not notice when they both passed over into sleep.
Oooooo vvvvvv oooooO
The bright sun of the cold crisp day leaked around the dark curtains of the Master Suite of Potter Manor. The light revealed two young people wrapped up together on the huge bed of the suite.
One was lying with her head on the young man's chest. Her warm, brown eyes were open staring into infinity as she relived what she could remember from last night. Her eyes were immobile, but her lips kept curling into a smile.
Hermione Granger, the fiancée of Lord Harry James Potter-Black, was a very satisfied witch. And tonight, after the Ministry's New Year's Eve Gala, she had every intention of being an even more satisfied witch.
She would not have to seduce Harry later tonight. He was now a convert to the worship of the Goddess Hermione at the altar of her body. "Seduce them with your mind, and their bodies will follow," she thought. Her follow-up of, "Seems to have worked for me," almost had her giggling.
Her dreams and fantasies of many years finally seemed about to become true.
/**
Harry Potter, luckiest man alive, he thought. The girl of most of his dreams and fantasies had become his, . . Lover? Well, maybe not that yet but tonight looked . . . promising. The unattainable goddess that he had worshipped in secret because he was not worthy of her had shown him in possibly the most graphic ways possible that she wanted HIM. She wanted him to be the one to learn what? With?
And with that memory, the return of his insecurities flashed once again into the forefront of his thoughts. He wanted to writhe with embarrassment because of what had happened last night. Everything had been so right, and then had gone so wrong. He was too inexperienced to understand his loss of control. All he knew was that ten seconds ago he was on top of the world and now he wanted to go hide before he saw Hermione's pity for him.
/**
Hermione had felt the change in Harry's breathing as he awoke. She also felt the change as his muscles tensed. She felt as though she could hear his thinking.
No. She was not going to let him run because he was having one of his insecurity attacks. She knew from those long years of experience how he could rush away to brood and come up with the completely wrong answers. "Damn the Dursley's."
"Good morning, Harry Love," she murmured from his chest. "Hmmm. Wasn't last night wonderful? I feel better than a basket full of cheering charms."
With that, she leaned up and kissed him.
"Sorry," she said. "Morning breath. Hold on."
She rolled over and grabbed her wand from underneath her pillow, pointed at her mouth with an incantation and a wave, then did the same for Harry.
"That's better," and leaned over to give Harry a lusty, tongue-dueling morning kiss.
A few minutes later as she collapsed back onto his chest, she said, "Hmm. Sticky." And raised up again to incant "Tergeo" and removed the dried, crusty and sticky fluid that Harry had painted everywhere.
She slid her wand under the pillow as she assumed her position of laying half on Harry's left side.
"Hmmm. Comfy. Let's not move until we are starving."
Harry only lasted twenty minutes before having to move as he had been too distracted to empty his bladder last night, so now the urgency drove him from the bed with a stern warning from his naked . . . paramour? To hurry back. If she got chilly because her favored bed warmer was missing, she would hex first and cuddle his paralyzed body later.
Unfortunately, the Wizengamot meeting meant cuddling and further exploring were cut short.
Oooooo vvvvvv oooooO
Somewhat to Harry's frustration, the Wednesday night after the Wizengamot was not a repeat of the night before. Hermione was perfectly happy to cuddle but told him she wanted to wait a day.
The New Year's Eve Gala at the ministry was every bit as poor a time as Harry had feared. Sharp eyes and sharper tongues followed their every move.
Hermione wore a slightly more traditional take on her Enyo persona. The dress was a dark maroon, with a keyhole neckline and not slit as high. Her toes were covered and not in sandals, but her much remarked upon red and black stone bracer was on display.
One thing different, was that as Harry's fiancée, she was able to raid the Potter jewelry collection and had an absolutely magnificent ruby and black obsidian, bib-type necklace, with matching dangly earrings. It was large, covering the keyhole neckline of her dress. There must have been over forty stones in the necklace and drew many an envious look from the wives of men who approached him to do some `business' at the gala.
Harry had developed a stock answer to those who approached him "for just a few words about upcoming matters." He would tell them some variant of how he was here to dance with his beautiful fiancée, and, while he understood that gatherings such as this were traditionally used for business dealings, he was still young, in school and for a while would leave his financial dealings with the goblins, and his political affairs would be administered with the assistance of the Black Sisters.
And with a strained, polite smile he would move on.
His first glimpse of the young woman that Hermione and he figured would be added to their dynamic had him almost tripping over thin air.
Flawless upswept, gleaming blonde hair, minimal looking make-up, and her face set in its most intimidating Ice Queen persona.
Daphne had come in a traditional robe-dress in her signature silvery-white with golden high-lights, yet the cut had Harry trying not to stare as he was having trouble believing it was not painted on. The only non-white color was her gold and black bracer that was Hermione's in all but colour.
Oh, did THAT set the chins a-wagging as staring, beady eyes tracked both young women hoping for a fashion duplication confrontation.
The whispers and anticipation reached a crescendo when after three dances with his `completely unsuitable' Muggleborn fiancée, the pair strolled over to the Greengrass table.
The hussy gracefully folded herself into a chair next to the younger Greengrass daughter, without saying a word to the older girl. When Lord Potter-Black leaned over and quietly spoke near her ear, she immediately rose and accompanied him to the dance floor.
The wagging chins dropped to the floor before wagging at increased gossip speed.
/**
"You look positively stunning, Miss Greengrass," Harry murmured to her as they started to move around the dance floor. "And a can say you have not lost any of your grace upon a dance floor."
Without missing a step, the icy blonde replied. "When we get back to the table, I am going to interrogate you until you tell me where you hide this smooth, suave personality, until you suddenly pull it out of nowhere on rare occasions."
Harry was so shocked he almost missed a step.
"Also, Lord Potter-Black, might I inquire as to this very, very public exchange of dance partners from your fiancée to a single, unattached, quite attractive female? The gossipy society hags and the gossip mags are going to love this. You have just handed them months of material for free. I thought the Sisters had trained you better than this."
Harry actually had an answer to this question. He and Hermione had quietly strategized this whole scene in their bed this morning.
"It's simple, my lovely snake," he twirled her around. "What I am doing is marking my territory. Every witch and wizard in Britain know I need two wives. This is the opening salvo in chasing off the competition. Anyone who wants to offer a marriage contract to your father for you will now know I am interested, and they all know I can outbid them out of my pocket change."
The plain, naked power Harry had just so casually detailed, caused a shiver to run down the young woman's spine. She was very sure that she could not find another man as suited for her as the man whirling her around. She even thought she loved him. Probably. But the sheer, breathless experience of the power he believed he casually could use had literally made her weak in the knees.
And the thoroughly ironic part was Harry didn't consider himself a powerful man. He still thought of himself as `just Harry'.
"Hermione must be shagging him blind," she thought, "but she was going to have to learn to share, damn it! And soon!"
They talked no more during the dance, and when it ended they returned to the Greengrass' table where the conversation was consisting of Hermione and Astoria covering the differences in classes and the general tenor of the school from when the parents had been students. Only the tone of the letters their daughters had sent from Hogwarts made the talk believable.
As the other two sat, with Harry between Daphne and Hermione the conversation had a sudden tone change.
Leaning across Harry, and, accidentally on purpose, discretely rubbing her breast on his arm, Daphne spoke quietly in a voice only the three could hear.
"I'm surprised you are walking so gracefully tonight, Hermione. You must be becoming used to frequent, um, exercise."
Without missing a beat, Hermione quickly smirked and just as quietly said, "No graceful tomorrow though. I'll be lucky to hobble to the loo."
Harry spiked to a beet red, and even Daphne looked startled for a moment. Hermione's smirk grew to a beatific smile.
Hermione rose from her chair, politely begged leave of the Greengrass' and told them she was going to enjoy some more dance time with her fiancé.
As they were leaving, she leaned over into Daphne's ear and whispered. "We are going to be on what I would call a honeymoon for the next several weeks, as I will not be able to be alone with him once he gets to the point where you can shag his brains out. Plan on sleeping alone for a while."
The three Greengrass' at the table were astonished when Daphne blinked and blushed faintly at Granger's unheard words. Something Potter's fiancé had said must have affected Daphne strongly.
And with a final smile at the table's occupants, she let Harry lead her to the dance floor to once again do what was rapidly becoming one of her favorite things. Dancing with her Harry.
Oooooo vvvvvv oooooO
Hermione was actually giggling as she and Harry floo'd back to Potter Manor. She had been mercilessly teasing him both verbally and physically for most of the last hour. Little hidden touches and murmured innuendo had him aflame. As soon as Tilitsy removed the travel ash from their clothes, she started attacking Harry with needy kisses, running her hands up and down his body. Her hands only stopped moving to crush his quidditch toned body to hers as she molded herself to him.
During one of these clinches, Harry apparated them into his bedroom. Hermione barely noticed. Buttons were being infuriatingly hard to unbutton. Just as Harry was about to lose patience and Vanish everything, Hermione got a grip on herself.
"I'm going to get undressed and visit the loo. I suggest you do the same. We have a long night ahead," And with that, she reached to her shoulders and her dress dropped to the floor leaving her in her heels and very small, red, silky knickers. She snatched her little beaded bag from the bed and with a roll to her hips sauntered to the en suite. Harry couldn't see the smile on her face.
Harry meanwhile, shed his robes in record time, leaving him clad in only his black, boxers. Five minutes later, he bounded off the bed as Hermione walked back in.
"Before you go, you should know I am on a three-month contraception potion, but we are going to use the Contraception Charm when you come back out just to be super careful." What she did not say was that she had taken a Prima Nocte potion to lessen her expected pain from her willingly giving her virginity to Harry that night.
With those words, she gave him a minty kiss on his cheek and a swat on his arse to send him on his way.
He was back in less than five minutes.
She stopped him with a hand to his chest and pointed her wand at his abdomen and with a muttered incantation and a spiraling swoop, a faint lavender haze engulfed him. She did the same to herself, seemed to calmly place her wand under her pillow, and then turned and with no warning, kissed Harry in a frenzy.
He frenzied right back.
A/N:
Enjoy. Will be over three weeks before internet is available again.
One: Would have used "Sweet Baby Maeve", but that Hermione exclamation was virtually patented by cloneserpents in Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor.
Two: Squinch is not to be found in the dictionary. Pity. Nice descriptional word.
Am at 5k words as the veil is drawn over our about-to-be-naughty pair. Figure it would take another 1500 words to finish properly. I have to get the next chapter out before the end of October as we will start the trek to winterize the trailer by moving it 1000 miles (about 1600 km) south. The eye of Hurricane Sally went right over Robertsdale-Foley, AL area tho'. A lot of people whose RV survived, but their house did not, might be spending their time in a local campground this winter. Room at the inn might be though to find.
