Fun in the Prefects Bathroom Volume 2
Dean and Hermione
Smutty.
Pairing - Dean/Hermione with major discussion of Harry and the other Gryff Boys
Setting:
6th year, December 8th, 2 weeks before Slughorn's party, one week after Ron kissed Lavender. Hermione was patrolling alone, which was a frequent occurrence lately as Ron skived-off to fool around with Lavender. Already she had caught them together in a broom closet while he was supposed to be patrolling; a week later, she caught them with Lavender on her knees between Ron's thighs, her head in his crotch.
So, Hermione spent much of the night of the party laughing and drinking with Dean Thomas, avoiding the grasping hands of Cormac Mclaggen. The pair was wandering through the halls, a bit tipsy, when Hermione steered him to the Prefects Bath.
"Wait, don't fall," Dean whispered, catching Hermione as she stumbled into the wall.
Hermione giggled, her hand on the door of the bathroom. "Shh," she said. "The password is supposed to be a secret!"
She then whispered the password, and Dean tried to hold in his own grin at her antics. "Hermione, don't you trust me with the password?" he play-mocked, trying and failing to hold in his own snicker.
Laughing out loud, Hermione shook her head. "Definitely not! Especially given your current..ah, motivations?" she asked, her faux-stern mood ruined by her own giggles.
"My motivations?" he laughed. "Aren't you the one who is seducing me?"
She giggled again, far too tipsy to worry about semantics.
The door opened for her, and the pair stumbled in. Hermione looked at Dean, expecting him to react as she did when she was first here in 3rd year, but he clearly didn't.
Immediately putting two and two together, Hermione put a hand on her hip and gave him a playful glare. "You've been here before, haven't you?"
Dean put his hands up. "Guilty as charged, Miss Prefect!"
Hermione pouted at him for a second, and then they both dissolved in a fit of laughter and chuckles.
The alcohol had clearly gotten to them.
She should have realized Dean had been here before. After all, if you listened to the rumors, he'd bedded half the girls in the school!
Hermione was definitely tipsy, and when Dean leaned over to kiss her, she readily reciprocated, standing on her tiptoes to pull him closer to her.
The kiss started slow, but soon grew heated. As their tongues dueled, Hermione pulled back from the kiss, but left her arm around his waist. "You know, Dean, I hear you are quite the ladies' man!" She said this with a smile, and Dean chuckled.
"Guilty, again!" he said. He smiled down at her, leading her over to one of the soft couches scattered about the room. He sat down with her, taking her shoes off even as he pulled her over to his lap, making her snort in amusement as he manhandled her.
As he leaned over to pull off her 2nd shoe, he looked up at her. "Hmm, and who is spreading such rumors about me? And what else do they say?" he asked, moving back upwards to lay against her side. He was suddenly kissing the sides of her neck as he ran his fingertips slowly across her collarbone and up and down her arms, making her shiver.
"Hmmm," she moaned, lifting her head back to give him better access. "Well," she finally said, gasping as he nipped at the soft skin below her ear, "they say...they say..." Hermione stuttered, unable to concentrate as Dean nipped and kissed around the shell of her ear, even as his hand grew bolder and was now traversing across the thin satin of her dress.
"Yes, dear Hermione, what do they say?" he whispered, his lips and hands teasing her.
Shivering in pleasure, she finally gasped out, "They say you have a huge penis!"
Whatever Dean had expected her to say, that wasn't it, and he laughed again, that sexy, throaty chuckle that Hermione felt rumbling in his chest, even as her face turned beet red in embarrassment.
She turned her head, looking at his dark eyes and white smile. His head lifted up now, level with her sternum, and she smiled back at him. He was very relaxing to be around, and was quite funny.
Hermione chuckled, her embarrassment gone. "It's true they say that, you know. And I can tell you that I have heard it from several different girls," she said heartily.
Instead of being embarrassed in turn, Hermione was happy to see Dean's eyes light up.
"Hoho!" he said, smiling even wider. "So the girls talk about my endowment, eh?" His eyes were sparkling with the joke. "Did you overhear them, in the shower perhaps? Or does my fanclub include girls from other houses?" He laughed at his own quip, making her laugh with him. "And have I successfully added you to my fan club, my beautiful Hermione?"
Despite her laughing, she blushed. "Well, we shall have to see, wont we?" she answered cheekily.
He laughed louder. "Well, I certainly would attest that, with you, my 'endowments' will be at full attention and in good standing."
As his words settled in her lust-addled brain, Hermione she just had time to gasp as he closed the distance to her lips, his eyes dark and lusty and filled with desire.
Even as their tongues moved slowly together, Dean pulled her fully onto his lap as they began to devour each other's mouths. Hands were freely roaming now, and Hermione moaned in approval as she felt Dean undoing the buttons of her dress, pushing it down over her shoulders and down to her waist, before his hands moved upwards to grasp her bare breasts.
She moaned as his large hands engulfed her tender chest, and she squirmed on his lap when she felt his erection straining against his pants and pressing into her center. He tweaked her nipples, and she was panting as he worked her so expertly that her panties were soon drenched.
Hermione let him have his way for another minute or two, before she suddenly wanted to feel him, too. She soon had him out of his shirt, helping him pull his muscular arms through the sleeves before tossing it behind her.
She kissed down his bare torso, admiring the toned abs and the golden hue of his skin. Dean was of mixed heritage, with one parent from Egypt and one from Nigeria, and his skin was a dark, golden brown and was quite exotic.
She licked and sucked his nipples, making him moan her name. Her hands mapped out every muscle, every dip, and every small curve. She loved the taste of his skin, musky and sweet all at once.
As she kissed lower, his breathing picked up, as if he knew what her goal was. When she finally reached his belt, she looked at him with hooded eyes, silently asking for permission to continue.
"Please," he said in a pleading voice, and with a smile Hermione diligently unhooked the buttons and moved his pants down over his thighs. Dean lifted himself up to assist.
Hermione slowly undressed him moving his pants down and off his feet, and soon he was laying before her, spread out in a pair of navy blue, and massively tented silk boxers. She licked her lips at the sight, feeling even more wetness gather in her nethers at the beautiful feast on display for her.
Snapping herself out of her ogling, her nails traveled slowly up his legs, moving nearer towards her goal. She enjoyed watching him shiver at her touch, and realized she wanted him, badly. It had been a long time since Hermione had last been in any way intimate with anyone. In fact, it had been almost 6 months since she had fooled around with Terry Boot, towards the end of their 5th year; and it had been even longer since she had sex, with Viktor the summer after 4th year.
Her introspections were cut short by Dean's low murmuring. "Merlin, Hermione, that feels so good," Dean said as Hermione's hands continued upwards.
Finally, her fingers trailed up over his thighs, and with an ever so slow movement - causing Dean to hold his breath in anticipation - she finally let her nails rub overtop the massive tent in his boxer shorts, tracing the outline of him, paying attention to the crown and his testicles, and imagining what he looked like without the garment.
He groaned at that first contact, and pushed his hips upwards to increase contact and friction with her small hand.
Not wanting to tease him anymore - as she wanted to see him fully naked - she grasped him fully through his shorts. "Can I...can I lower your underwear?" she asked, her cheeks turning red with embarrassment at the same time as she felt unbridled lust in her groin.
His ebony skin looked delicious in the dim light, and she wanted to see all of him.
She imagined he would be glorious.
"Yes, please do," he said, looking down at her with dark eyes. She noted his pupils were fully dilated, and his irises were so white, contrasting amazingly with his dark skin.
Dean, meanwhile, was aroused as he ever had been before. Merlin, she was so damn sexy! She knew just how to entice, and yet his image of her - the innocent, repressed bookworm - contrasted with the confident seductress who had seemingly come out to play tonight.
As he took in the sight of the occasional glimpse of her pert, round breasts, visible as her dress was lowered to her waist, he felt fortunate that it was him that got to experience this side of her tonight, when he knew for sure that several boys he knew wanted her.
As she moved to grip the edges of the boxer's waistband, he pinched the soft flesh of her breasts and her jutting pink nipples. While not the largest he'd seen, her breasts were round and full and fit her well; her nipples were the palest pink, fully distended and suckable, and her areolas were small and slightly pebbled, just the way he liked them. Her pale stomach looked soft and inviting, and her black stockings - with the garters just visible at the bottom of her dress - were encasing long, toned legs and dainty feet and toes.
Merlin, she was hot!
Even as Dean finished his inspection, Hermione bit her lip in anticipation and lifted the edge of his boxers over the massive tent. With a quick breath, she lowered the boxers to his thighs without stopping, gasping when his hard, ebony member flopped out and smacked into his belly.
For a moment, all she could do was stare at the awesome specimen that was revealed.
Dean was big. No question about that. Bigger than Viktor, both in length and circumference. He was considerably bigger than Cedric, and compared to Terry...well, it would be like comparing a pre-pubescent boy to a fully grown man.
For once the rumors of a 'well hung' man seemed to be true. There were no other words for it.
His cock was huge!
She was not very experienced, it was true, having seen just three penises before; Cedric's, when she was being shunned by Ron and Harry towards the end of her 3rd year, Viktor Krum's in 4th year, and finally, towards the end of 5th year, Terry Boot, co-prefect from Ravenclaw.
None compared to the monster she was now looking at.
Dean's cock had to be at least 9, maybe 10 or even 11 inches long; it was also thick, so thick in fact she doubted her fist would be able to close around it. He was circumcised - unusual in Wizarding Britain, but she remembered Dean was Muggleborn. And the crown was like a giant purplish mushroom, with ridges that were sure to please.
As she took her first breath since the big reveal (and subconsciously swallowing her drool), she watched the positively huge, purple vein throbbing on top of the shaft. Looking down, a pair of massive, hairless testicles were hanging loosely between his muscular thighs. She noticed, then, that he had very little pubic hair at all, clearly the result of a depilatory charm.
All in all, it was the most impressive cock she had ever seen; even the pictures of porn stars in Lavenders 'PlayWitch Monthly' didn't hold a candle to this baby.
She felt her mouth go dry at the sight of it.
With her mind still half-dazed, she took his shorts the rest of the way off, leaving him completely naked, and she could only stare like an idiot at the perfection of his physique.
Shaking her head clear, she took a deep breath. Reaching with a tentative hand, she grasped him and began to move her fist on him, groaning at the touch of his hot skin. His answering gasp made her smile, and she gave herself over to the rhythm.
Hermione was thoroughly enjoying exploring Dean's penis, and she felt herself dampen further each time he would quietly moan at her ministrations. For the moment, all thoughts of Harry or Ron were banished from her mind as she let herself enjoy the moment – exactly as a 17 year old girl who was not dating anyone and whose longtime crush had never shown any romantic interest in her should be doing.
As her mother and the famous song said, "if you can't love the one you want, love the one your'e with."
Hermione gently pushed him all the way onto his back, and on all fours sidled up his body. He gently reached his hand to her chest, and gave a quick squeeze to her breasts, making her shiver as his calloused hands tweaked her nipples. She looked down, and loved the way his dark hands looked while holding her pale flesh.
Quite a sexy, beautiful contrast.
Dean's skin had an almost ethereal glow. He had a sort of golden, chocolate brown hue to his skin, and his features were mostly Caucasian, with a few African/middle-eastern characteristics, like heavy eyebrows and tilted, deep set eyes.
And this year, the last vestiges of puberty, such as acne and some baby fat on his face, had gone away. In Hermione's opinion, he was blessed with the best features of his parents,, and she could honestly say he was one of the most handsome boys in her year, and certainly the most exotic looking, with only the Italian boy Blaise Zabini even coming close.
Hermione turned her attention back to his cock, and smiled as she grasped him more firmly and he moaned her name. She was squeezing just under the tip, and began a slow, steady stroke, just as she remembered Viktor liking. She didn't really get a chance to find out what Terry liked, as they only fooled around a few times in the prefect bath, though they had snogged a few times besides that. She remember that she had barely had her hands on him when he came. He offered to return the favor, but she pushed his hand away, saying she wasn't ready for that with him (and she wasn't - for whatever reason, she never was able to fully relax with Terry). He had said he understood, but he was embarrassed by his lack of stamina, and a month later came the Department of Mysteries tragedy where Sirius lost his life and where she herself was seriously injured. A single letter from him over the summer, wishing her a speedy recovery, was all she got from him as their 'relationship' ended.
She clearly remembered what Cedric had liked, but the pain associated with them as a result of his death made them too raw to think of.
Back in the moment, Hermione brought her legs to the side, and leaned down on one arm, her head laying on her own shoulder. She was looking hungrily at his cock while she stroked. She let one hand trail down over his truly impressive testicles, gently running a nail down the small line that separated the two heavy sacs. She smiled when she heard Dean hiss above her, and she took each ball in her hand, giving them a gentle squeeze, before letting her questing fingers travel underneath the sac, holding them fully in her hand, before running her nails along his perineum for a few moments, before reversing direction and heading back up.
He was panting by this point, and feeling empowered she completed her inspection by running a gentle thumb along the dripping wet slit at the very end of his cock, before moving her now lubricated hand back to the shaft where she began to stroke in earnest.
"Merlin, Hermione, you are so good at this!" he moaned, thrusting his hips up into her hand. She smiled lustfully at him, and he gave her a toothy grin and speaking in a husky voice. "If it wasn't considered bad form, I would ask who the lucky bastard was that was your test subject."
Despite the awkwardness of such a question, Hermione couldn't help herself but laugh, and surprised herself by giving him a saucy wink as she continued her stroking. "Hmm, but that would be telling," she said, making him chuckle; a deep, baritone sound that made her feel warm inside.
And she couldn't help but laugh with him; he was quite easy to be with.
Dean moved his hips gently up and down, not wanting to cum yet but unable to fight the rising bliss. Even as his breathing increased and his hips moved faster, he was able to make a joke. "For the record, Hermione, you are an incredible girl, and I am honored and thrilled that I get to see this playfully naughty side of you," he said with feeling, giving her a saucy wink.
Hermione stopped her stroking for a moment, looking at his face, her eyes locking with his, trying to gauge his sincerity.
Apparently, he guessed that he passed muster, as she suddenly leaned up and used both hands to grasp his face in her hands and pull him in for a needy kiss, he tongue pushing into his mouth,
The pair kissed passionately for a bit, and Hermione moaned when Dean's hands came up behind her and squeezed the firm globes of her bum, getting an immediate approval from her.
Dean's hands continued to work her body, until he gently lay her on her back, hovering over her. He began to kiss down her chest, pressing the dress down further so he could savor every piece of skin, and he lavished attention on her chest, neck and stomach.
With deft hands, he unbuttoned the rest of the dress and pulled it away, leaving her clad only in a pair of sexy black knickers. He was pleasantly surprised by them - all lace and partly see-through - but then he remember that muggle fashions were much racier than equivalent wizarding ones.
Dean looked down at her with a smile on his face. Even in the dim light of the flickering fire and the dim candles, he could see that she had a very fit body. When he ran his fingers along the edge of the wet garment, she gave him a look of pure need, and she hooked one of her fingers into her mouth in a very sexy move that made his cock throb.
Without waiting, he lowered that last little bit that covered her modesty, and he felt his mouth water at the silky perfection that was her trimmed sex, even as he dragged the panty down her long legs.
She lifted her bum so he could take off the lace, and he ignored her squirming in embarrassment as he ogled her sex. It was neatly trimmed, with a bushy bit at the top pf her mons, and then a thin line of soft looking, golden brown curls that framed her vulva. When he lifted her left leg to slip the garment over her small feet, he couldn't help but moan as her legs momentarily parted, giving him a teasing hint of the pink flesh hidden away by the thin covering of short wet curls.
He lifted her other leg clear, and smiled down at her. He brought the thin lacy garment to his face, and then, surprising but secretly pleasing her, he took a long, deliberate sniff of the wet crotch area.
"Mm mm, you smell heavenly, "he said, causing Hermione to blush beet red. As he dropped her knickers to the floor with the rest of their clothes, he slithered up onto the couch, crawling on all fours as he moved to her side, kissing her skin as he went. His throbbing cock was pressed between them, so large that, even though their waists were at about the same spot on the couch, it almost reached up to her breasts. He immediately lowered his head to meet her rising lips, and they crashed together in a lustful kiss.
They snogged for a few minutes, hands beginning to wander, and Hermione squealed when Dean took a handful of butt cheek, rolling them and pulling her stomach against his cock. He moved his hips upward, and the top of his cock pushed between her breasts, making him moan even as he left a trail of precum on her pale flesh.
Hermione's own hands were not idle, and soon were roaming his back and bum, marveling at the muscles beneath his beautiful ebony skin. She knew Dean was something of a football fanatic, and clearly he must have played often to be this toned.
As she squeezed his firm cheeks, exploring his cleft and hips, she moaned at the feel of him. An ass like his should have been illegal!
When Dean disengaged his mouth and began kissing down her chest while gently rolling her onto her back, he finally took a hard nipple into his mouth. Hermione gasped, hands scratching at his back as lustful feelings raced through her, making her squirm as her arousal rose another notch.
Dean used the distraction to let his hands, which had been gently caressing up and down through her bum crack, finally move down from behind her and between her legs.
When his questing fingers trailed upwards through her sopping, slippery folds, Hermione shrieked his name, as a powerful surge of pleasure slammed through her. She had been waiting for him to touch her, and he finally was. Acting purely on instinct, she raised her top leg up, giving him as much room as he needed to better touch her from the back.
"Merlin, Hermione, you are so hot! So wet!" His words further enflamed her passion, and she mimicked his motions, letting one of her hands trail down beneath his legs, which he moved apart to assist her. Roaming from the back, she felt her fingers come in contact with his balls, which she gave a squeeze before moving her hand further up to his enormous shaft.
Dean moaned loudly, his hands stilling on her, as he felt her hand squeeze his sack and then run her nails gently along his shaft before she grasped him and began to stroke. But despite how amazing it felt, he could tell she could barely reach underneath. So to help her – and himself – he moved his hips a little away from her pelvis and guided her hand around the front. "Here, this will give you more room," he said, putting her hand right back where he wanted it.
Dean also moved his hands to the front, and began to explore her in earnest, enjoying her little yelps or quiet moans. Their hands were working each other, and the tempo gradually picked up.
Dean was now sliding his hand up and down through her folds, his thumb pressing on her clit, his middle finger teasing around her entrance. He finally let a finger slide deep into her body, curling upwards onto her g spot, and her breath left her in a loud whoosh into his neck. She sped her hand up on his cock as she felt that familiar coil beginning to tighten in her belly.
It had been far, far too long since someone had touched her like this!
Hermione took a moment to look down, watching her pale hand moving on his jutting erection. It was so big she could not fully wrap her fist around it, she wondered how it would feel inside her. Surely it would hurt?
She wasn't sure, but the thought of it made her hotter.
She kissed every part of his neck she could, her hands continuing to move on him, even as her own hips were now rolling with him as he pleasured her.
Dean's hips began to move in time with her fist. "Hermione, I'm close," he said, his own hands continuing to play her superbly. But she was still a minute or two away, and she wanted to watch him orgasm.
Sitting up, she pushed his hands away. With a soft kiss to his chin, she stared into his eyes and began using both hands on his rigid member. "Cum for me, Dean," she said. "I want to watch." She looked back down hungrily at his cock, which was now leaking copious amounts of fluid, even as he moaned out her name.
"Uhhhh, fuck" he moaned, and his hips began to snap forward. "I'm cumming Hermione."
With a final grunt, he went rigid, and Hermione watched as a ropy spurt of semen arched out from his tip, and landed on her neck and chin. Still stroking, she pointed his cock towards her breasts, just in time for the second spurt to coat her nipples and some to land on his chest. She was so enthralled at watching this, the bright white cum against his dark skin, and feeling the warm liquid on her, that she stroked even faster, and was rewarded by a third spurt which landed on her lower stomach and dripped onto her mound.
She stroked his softening member for another minute, before laying back down and kissing him. "That was perfect," he said, panting after his orgasm. "But it's your turn now," he said, and sat up as he lay her down.
His hands started working on her again, and his mouth latched onto a nipple. He trailed kisses all along her torso, kissing and nipping, his cock beginning to stir again at the incredible flavor of her skin.
Hermione's eyes were open, watching his every move, and cradling his head when he kissed her torso. She suddenly saw him sliding down towards her thighs, and she didn't resist as one of his hands gently pried her legs further apart.
She suddenly felt a little shy as his mouth got closer to her waistline, but his hands felt so good on her, that she decided she didn't care; if he wanted to go down on her, she would let him. It had been so long - back when she was 15 - since someone had done this for her.
When Dean finally settled between her thighs, his eyes dark and filled with lust, her breathing had sped to the point where she was literally gasping for air. And he hadn't even really touched her yet.
That didn't last long, however, and as he gently let his tongue travel up from the very lowest parts of her sex to the very top, Hermione shrieked as all the tension that had been building for so long came rushing out in a wave of pleasure that seemed to surprise even Dean. "Mmm, so sensitive," he said, repeating the motion, and all Hermione could do was go along for the ride.
Having seen that first explosion from her, Dean began to worship her delicious pussy. Her taste was musky but light, clean smelling, with a hint of vanilla and strawberry wafting up from the bushy mound she kept at the top. Clearly she shampooed down there, as it smelled like her hair did. Her mound was trimmed way down to just a thin strip on the sides, letting him thoroughly explore the area with tongue, lips, chin, and nose without ending up with hair in his mouth.
As Dean practiced his not inconsiderable oral skills on her, Hermione writhed as waves of pleasure washed over her, like continuous mini orgasms pulsing through her body. She felt one of Dean's hands cup her bum, and she finally screamed out his name as a massive orgasm tore through her when she felt one of his fingers slide deeply into her wet hole. Her own hands were tweaking her nipples, pinching and pulling, as what felt like a flood of moisture oozed from her as a series of full body contractions wracked her small frame.
Finally, she pulled Dean's face into her crotch, wrapping her thighs around his head as she rode out her release.
When the full body shudders began to ebb, she became hypersensitive. "No more, please," she whimpered, her groin now so oversensitive his tongue felt like a Taser.
Hermione couldn't believe how good that felt! She had received cunnilingus before, but Dean was clearly talented. She shivered at the pleasure and lazy satiation she was feeling, only somewhat cognizant of Dean kissing his way back up her body.
When he reached her neck, she grasped him by the sides of his head and pulled him in for a deep kiss. She moaned when she tasted her own musky flavor on him, and she started sucking on his tongue in a highly suggestive manner.
When she withdrew a bit so his tongue was still between her lips, making her intentions obvious, she saw his eyes slowly open.
They were almost completely black, filled with a lusty hardness that made her quiver.
With a smirk, she pushed him deep into the couch, and began kissing her way down his body, her intent clear. Her left hand came up and took hold of his cock, lifting it away from his stomach as she stroked him, long, steady strokes that made him groan. "Merlin, Hermione, you are amazing," he said, lifting his head up to peer down over his prone form, as she neared her prize.
Hermione scuttled between his legs, on her knees, and leaning over his cock, looking at it closely as she stroked it. She felt his eyes on her, and looked up to meet his heavy stare. "I…I've not done this in a while," she admitted, "and you are much bigger than they were." She said the last part in a whisper, hoping she was able to satisfy him.
His answering smile put her fears at rest. "I think you will be fine. And I'm now really curious as to who the lucky bloke was."
She rolled her eyes, happy that he made her so relaxed. Taking the bull by the horns – or in this case, the cock by the head – she used her fingers to point his cock outward, and then, moving her head down, she took a long, slow lick around the tip.
Dean's response was immediate, and sent a jolt of pleasure through her. "Fuuuuccccckkk' he moaned, trying and failing to hold his head up. He quickly put one of his hands behind his head to rest on, so he could watch Hermione Granger suck his cock.
Hermione smiled as she took a second lick, her eyes locked on Dean's, and despite not liking crude language, in this case she was turned on by it. She gave a few more experimental licks, trying to place the flavor of his pre-cum, and deciding it tasted like a combination of lightly salted water and hint of mint crème. Not too bad at all, though she wouldn't brush her teeth with it.
She finally let her lips slowly engulf the engorged crown, her lips moving over the purplish flesh until she felt the edges of his cap pass her teeth, which she had kept well clear. She went down another inch or two, until she felt his member hit the back wall of her throat. At that point, she reversed her motion, and moved her fist up to that point. She then used that hand to slowly pump him, while she began to establish a rhythm with her mouth. Down she plunged, as her fist came up, and reverse.
Dean was shaking at the pleasure in his groin, this girl was good! "Merlin, Hermione, you are really good at this," he half-laughed, half moaned. "But it shouldn't surprise me, really, you seem to be good at just about everythi….." his words were cut off when her other hand came up and squeezed his balls. "Ohhhh, yes, that's perfect, mmmm, don't stop," he said.
He lay his head back for a moment, stars swimming through his vision. He couldn't believe how good this felt! He finally looked down again, to see her hunched over, concentrating fully on his cock. She was using both hands on him now, one pumping him in time with her sucking and one now playing with his sack. And despite wanting this to really last, he knew that he wouldn't. She was just too talented.
Hermione was actually enjoying this, it was strangely empowering to know she could bring a man such pleasure like this, made her feel sexy. It had been a long time since she had done this, and she had forgotten how pleasurable it could be.
After another minute or two, she lifted her head clear, to give her jaw a break, and she pumped him a little harder, and the strokes became longer. The wet, slurping sound of his cock moving through her fist was arousing. "How am I doing?" she asked him in a sultry voice, while giving his scrotum an extra squeeze, and her pumping sped up a bit more.
"Unbelievably amazing," he grunted, his hips moving up and down now that he dint have to worry about driving into the back of her throat and making her gag or choke. "I'm..I'm going to cum soon," he said, feeling the tingling starting in the base of his nuts.
"Mm mm," she answered, and moved her head back down to just suck the head, as her pumping sped up even further. She decided she wanted him to cum in her mouth; after all, she basically soaked his face when she came, and she was a big believer in fair play.
Dean couldn't believe it when she put her head back down, most girls he had been with usually didn't like cum in their mouth. But he wasn't going to complain, but did decide to warn her. "I'm cumming, Hermione," he moaned, and his whole body went stiff as he felt the first spurt rising through his cock.
Hermione didn't pause at all when he gave her his warning, and a moment later she felt his balls tightening in her hand and his cock beginning to twitch, when he suddenly went rigid, and she felt a squirt of warm, salty semen hit the roof of her mouth. There didn't seem to be a copious amount like when he came earlier, but the 2nd and 3rd spurts still filled her mouth. There was no 4th spurt this time, and she finally lifter her head clear of his cock, and looked up to see him watching her intently. She gave him what she thought was a sultry look (it was) and then swallowed his load, making his cock twitch in her hand. A single drop of pearly fluid dripped down the left side of her mouth and onto her chin, but her tongue swiped out and licked it back up.
"Merlin, Hermione, you are incredible," he whispered, truly turned on by the hot Witch. "That was utterly amazing, you're brilliant."
She sidled back up his body, and gave him a sweet kiss on the lips. "My pleasure," she said huskily, and he let his hands come around her back, and settled on her bum. Her eyes popped open wide and she squealed when he squeezed her cheeks roughly, but she closed them again and settled against him for a long, passionate kiss filled with slowly dueling tongues and soft nibbling and rubbing lips.
After their post-orgasmic sexy snog – and that is precisely what it was, Hermione thought, she finally lay her head down on his chest and let out a happy sigh. She felt so relaxed right now, and realized that this was precisely what she needed, and had definitely done this with the right guy for the circumstances.
If, after all, she couldn't have Harry, or at least Ron, there was someone who thought she was sexy and hot.
They lay there for several minutes, naked with just the sheets haphazardly covering part of them. Hermione had her head resting on his chest, her index finger tracing lazy circles on his chest and abdomen, through the thin matting of curls on his chest and the quite prominent happy trail that led down to his still semi-hard member. She was watching it, as it slowly twitched to the beating of his heart.
Even half soft, he was still bigger than Terry, and almost as big a Viktor. Amazing.
"You know," she said, pausing for a moment and rousing Dean from his pleasant fantasies involving the mostly naked witch in his arms, "you really do have a fabulous penis."
She turned her head, looking up at his dark eyes and white smile, he head lifted up now, level with his sternum. She smiled back at him. "It's true you know. And I can tell you that I am not the only one to think so," she said heartily.
The two chuckled for a few more moments before they settled. She was still looking at him, but lay her head back down on his chest. His eyes were still twinkling at her though, as he asked "May I ask who you heard speaking about me? I will swear to you I will never repeat it."
She had almost automatically said no, but then thought about it for a moment. The girls in question were not really her friends, and she had heard them gossiping about her – with Viktor, or Harry, or Ron, or other boys – on more than one occasion. So she was not particularly sensitive about keeping their secrets.
She made him wait for a few more seconds, and he volunteered a deal sweetener. "And," he said, "I can tell you a few things that the boys – and some of the girls – have said about you that might surprise you."
Intrigued now, she raised her head. "Ok, deal," she said, now very curious. "I can tell you," she started, "that I've heard several girls talk about you, starting early in 4th year. Also, some of the stories seemed to contradict others, or were really outlandish – and yes, I will tell you some of them – but you've definitely been a 'hot' conversation topic since before the Triwizard.
He smiled at her, "OH this gets better and better!" He let his hands come back behind her and squeezed her supple cheeks, making her softly moan. "So, my beautiful, bashfully bold and brilliantly bright Hermione, let's hear all that juicy gossip about Dean's Magic Penis!"
Hermione couldn't help herself, she threw her head back and laughed out loud at his offhand remark and silly compliment, and playfully smacked his chest with her hand. "OH, you," she said, smiling widely at him. "You are certainly smooth with the ladies!" she said, chuckling at his waggling eyebrows and goofy smile.
Hermione was so totally relaxed, that sitting here naked with Dean after their activities felt totally natural. Easy.
She could get used to this, it was just what she needed.
She finally lay her head back down, looking at him with mirth in her eyes. She felt light, and carefree, and libidinous – things that had been in very short supply this year. So she was very happy she did this with Dean, and she was quite surprised at how funny and personable he could be. Had he not started off the evening by telling her – after they kissed just once – that he was definitely not looking for any kind of relationship so if she wanted to stop right then and there there would be absolutely no hard feelings - she would probably not be here right now.
"Well," she finally started, "the very first time I heard something was in the showers," she stopped and shook her head with humor when she saw him smirking with an "I knew it" kind of expression. "As I was saying," she started again, "I was in the showers, sometime before the other schools arrived for the Tri-Wiz." There was a momentary feeling of sadness that they both felt for a moment, but she wouldn't dwell on it. "Anyway, I wasn't really listening until I heard them mention Harry and Ron."
Dean smiled. "Not surprising that got your attention," he smirked, earning himself another playful smack on his chest.
"No interruptions!" she mock commanded. She laughed when he gave her a military salute with his left hand, hand to brow.
"Sir yes sir!" he said, knowing that as a Muggleborn she would understand the references.
"You're incorrigible, Mr. Thomas," she said, laughing at him. "Anyway, like I said, I heard their names so I started listening. I couldn't see them because of the curtain, but I saw them later on – they were both upperclassman, a 5th year named Joanna Devlin, one of the 7th year prefects now - and a 6th year, who graduated last year, Melissa Rivers." She paused looking at his face, which appeared thoughtful. "Do you know them?" she asked.
He focused his attention back on her, and decided to be fully honest. "Yes," he said. "I actually fooled around with Melissa a few times in September of our 4th year."
Hermione nodded. "Makes sense, as some of the things she said sounded like firsthand experience."
Curious, he asked her, "So what did they say?"
Hermione blushed, realizing telling him some of this might be embarrassing. But manning up her Gryffindor courage, she pressed on. "Well, the first thing they were talking about was how the 4th year boys looked and if they would ever consider dating, or, well, 'hooking up', was the phrase they used." She shook her head, willing her cheeks to stop flushing. "And one of them – I guess it was Melissa, but I couldn't see them remember – said she had already fooled around with you."
Hermione took a breath, before relating the next part. "And then, well, she said you had 'an amazing cock', and she said that it was bigger than any of the boys she had ever fooled around with before, and that it was amazing as you were only 14."
Dean smiled cheekily at her, amused at her embarrassment. "Interesting," he said. "I guess she was in my fan club," he said, laughing when Hermione blushed and playfully swatted him again. "But," he said, grinning at her again, "what I really want to know is, does Ms. Golden Gryffindor Hermione Granger agree with her assessment?"
"Dean!" Hermione scolded him. "That's…that's…" for once, her brilliant mind deserted her. "You…you..."
Dean watched her struggle for a moment, before throwing his head back and howling with laughter. "Oh Hermione, you are so beautifully adorable!" He laughed again, before settling down. "I don't mean to make you uncomfortable. And I'm not asking for any names. But don't answer if you don't want to," he finally said. "There is no pressure here. This is all about us having fun."
Hermione digested his words, realizing he was right. "Ok," she finally said. "They were correct, of course." She smiled a cute little smile. "You have a fabulous cock, and it was definitely bigger than the three others I've had chance to see." Despite her determination not to blush, she did anyway.
Dean just smiled at her though, and did not make fun of her. "Hmm, a mystery then," he said, relishing this fun side of her. "You, Ms. Granger, have just presented me with a unique puzzle. So I shall have to endeavor to guess who those lucky boys with the 3 mystery penises were."
Her mouth opened wide in mock outrage, but before she could protest, he began to speak. "Well, the obvious choices would be Ron or Harry. But," he said, as the quelling words were on her tongue, "I would immediately rule out Harry."
Hermione's bluster immediately faded, and her mouth dropped open, not expecting this rebuttal at all. "What? Why?" she asked, and her voice sounded smaller than she intended, and she hated herself for being so transparent.
Deciding not to comment on her obvious trepidation concerning Harry, he spoke softly. "Well, several reasons really." Using his fingers to count, he smiled at her, which helped her relax again. "The first being, had Harry actually gotten his act together to get to the point where you and he were intimate, I've no doubt you would be dating and halfway to being married by now," he said, with absolute conviction.
"What?" she squeaked? "What are you talking about? Harry doesn't see me that way, at all!"
Dean just looked at her like she was missing something obvious. "My dear Hermione, you are not the only one who has blinders on when it comes to you and Harry, trust me. And after this discussion, I will tell you exactly what I 'KNOW' – not think, mind, but 'know' – about the way Harry thinks of you." He let those words hang for a moment, seeing her desperate to discuss that right now.
Patience - especially when there was information she wanted - was never a strong suit of hers.
"I promise, Hermione, I will tell you. But first, let's finish our little game," he said, winking at her.
She was going to protest, but finally released the breath she didn't realize she was holding. 'Ok, fine," she said. "But why would guess I wasn't with Ron?" she asked.
Dean grimaced for a moment, which Hermione noticed but didn't comment on. "Main reason? Had Ron fooled around with you, he would never have been able to keep it quiet. He likes to brag."
Hermione nodded her head. She could believe that.
With another grimace, Dean looked at her seriously. "And, I will also tell you a few things about Ron, that someone should have told you years ago."
Hermione was exasperated now. "You better tell me when we are done, mister!" she said, poking his chest.
"I promise," he answered, no hint of teasing. "I will tell you anything that I specifically promised not to repeat to someone else." Hermione looked at him carefully, her eyes darting between his, and judged that he was being sincere.
"Ok," she said quietly. She finally smiled again. "And besides those two - which you've ruled out - who else do you think I might have seen in the buff?"
He laughed at her words, and gave her a brilliant smile. "Well," he said, relishing her anticipation, despite her attempt to play it off, "I would say Viktor Krum."
From the expression on her face, he knew he was right. Her cheeks flushed scarlet, and then her chin raised up. "How?" she demanded. "We were so very careful," she said, upset that they might have given something away.
"Ahh, my sweet Hermione, no one gave it away, believe me, though the speculation was rife. In fact," he said, waggling his eyebrows, "the gossip about you that year ran the gamut from you and he shagging it up all over the castle, to his being gay and using you for a cover!" – Hermione looked outraged at this one – "to you, Harry, and Viktor having wild threesomes!"
As Dean waited for her to calm from that last one - and he finally admitted he only heard that one once or twice - he said quietly, "but after the 2nd task, I noticed you two were much closer, and you would blush when his eyes met yours during mealtimes. So, that's how I guessed something was going on," he announced, proud of his deductions.
Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "Fair enough," she admitted. "I suppose others probably noticed too, though thankfully nothing appeared in the papers." Hermione looked at Dean, and noticed something in his expression. "What? Was there something?" she asked, trying to keep her voice calm.
"Well," Dean said slowly, relishing the anticipation, "there were plenty of things about you two in the International Press."
At her outraged face, he hurried on. "Factual, for the most part, though there was a lot of speculation, too."
Hermione's shocked face made Dean laugh. "Don't worry too much Hermione, only a few were referring to you as 'the future Mrs. Krum'.
"WHAT!" Hermione thundered, making Dean laugh harder. "What paper!" She was sitting up now, her eyes promising pain if he didn't answer quickly.
Dean chuckled softly, gently pulling her back down to his chest. "Some trashy gossip rag, don't sweat it," he said, and after a minute she blew a piece of hair out of her eyes, letting him pull her down. She couldn't help but grin when she felt him laughing quietly under her, and she finally gave in and laughed with him. "Ok, your right, it's silly to get upset. It's all in the past anyway," she admitted, and gave his thighs a squeeze.
She tried not to pay attention to how that little touch made his cock twitch. There was too much information she needed first!
"Exactly," Dean said, oblivious to her momentary distraction.
"Now," he continued, speaking with a questioning manner, "I have no idea, from observation, who the other boys are."
When he saw Hermione smiling in mock triumph, he held up a finger. "But," he said, "we boys sometimes hear gossip as well. And" he quickly added, "you happen to dorm with two of the biggest gossips in the castle."
Hermione's cheeks flushed again, and she had a sinking feeling that she was caught.
"So," he said, feeling victory, "I heard from a little birdy named Lavender that one of the lucky boy's was a 5th year Ravenclaw, am I right?"
Hermione let out a sigh, knowing she was caught. "Yes," she admitted.
Dean smiled at her, "Was the lucky boy Mr. Terry Boot?"
Hermione decided not to bother denying it. "Yes. Oh, bother. We were so careful, and I didn't think he would say anything," she muttered.
"Ahh, but he might not have," Dean replied. "Everyone knows Terry has had a crush on you since 3rd year, when you set the highest scores for a 3rd year in the school." Dean laughed, adding "trust a Ravenclaw to be turned on by your high grades!"
Hermione laughed too, but didn't admit that she also found intelligence to be highly attractive.
"But," Dean continued, "in 4th year, you knocked everyone's jaws to the floor at the Yule Ball, and Terry probably realized he better move fast or he would lose you to someone else." He chuckled again. "And finally, in 5th year, I heard that there were some interesting reactions the two of you had during prefect meetings," he said, grinning at her frustrated expression.
"So," he interrupted her woolgathering, "I must say it's nice to know I stack up favorably to the competition," he boasted, making her laugh, "though I still don't know who the mystery 3rd year boy is."
Hermione chewed her bottom lip. Should she tell him about Cedric? About their wonderful night together, and how he made her feel like a desired woman, for the first time in her life? And how truly broken up she was when he died?
She couldn't do it.
Dean correctly interpreted her thinking. "If it's really private you don't need to really tell me, Hermione."
She turned her face on his chest, looking up at him seriously from just a few inches away. "Sorry, Dean, but I've never told a soul about this. It was just one time, and I never even told my mom."
Dean nodded, not having any idea who it might be. "Does he still go to school here?" he asked.
Taking a breath, she shook her head. "No, he's not here anymore. But please, I would rather not discuss it," she said in a quiet voice.
Dean looked at her strangely, not able to interpret her mood, but clearly there was something painful about the memory. And her phrasing was strange. 'He's not here anymore.' Did he graduate? Was he from one of the visiting schools? An unrequited crush maybe? A teacher? God forbid it was Gilderoy Lockhart!
He decided not to push it, they were having too much fun.
"Never mind then," Dean said, his joking tone back. "Instead, it's your turn to tell me who else has talked about Dean's mighty Quill?"
She smiled at his cheeky remark, feeling lighter again. "Well," she started, "I am sure you know that Lavender and Parvati both have said things. In fact, both actually speak as if they have direct first hand experience," she said, challengingly.
Dean smirked. "Indeed, both ladies have had close and personal contact with Mr. Wonderful," he quipped.
Hermione burst out laughing, tears leaking from her eyes. "Misst..mist…mister Wonderful?" she choked out around her laughter.
"Indeed," he said archly. "Named by MS Lavender Brown herself, no less. Very fitting, I think," he said.
After a few more loud guffaws, Hermione got her laughter under control, and turned onto her stomach, her hands crossed on his chest and her chin resting on them. She smiled at him, and his hands came to rest on her back, tracing idle patterns there."You are certainly confident, Mr. Thomas."
"With Mr. Wonderful in my pocket, shouldn't I be?" he asked, looking over her shoulder at her pert backside, which jiggled every time she breathed.
Hermione shook her head, laying it back down sideways on his chest. She was astonished at how comfortable she was, and realized Dean would make someone very happy someday. He had a great sense of humor and a very fun loving nature.
And, as he said, with Mr. Wonderful in his pocket, he had a great head start to pleasing a lady.
"Any more ladies commenting on my package?" he asked. "Surely there must be more than just the resident Gryffindor Gossips?"
"Well," she answered, "I never went in for gossip." She made him wait a few seconds, before adding with a small twinkle. "But yes, there are a few."
"Then by all means, enlighten me, fair maiden!" he said, gesturing with his hand,.
She turned her face back to him, looking into his dark eyes. "Well, I want something in return," she said. At his raised eyebrow, she smiled wickedly. "I want to know how the other boys in Gryffindor stack up against Mr. Wonderful," she said, finally cracking his calm exterior.
"What?" he asked, shocked at the audacity of the request. "You want me to tell you about who is packing heat?"
"Yes," she said, smiling wider. "Exactly right." Hermione was amazed at herself, but she was thoroughly enjoying their game. "I want to know how the boys stack up. After all," she said, her eyes crinkling in laughter, "a girl's got to have standards."
Dean threw his head back and howled with laughter, and she joined him, the pair laughing like looks at her silly joke.
Finally, they calmed down, and Dean was quiet for a while, chewing his lip – a habit that Hermione was very familiar with – before agreeing. "Well, Ok, but I swear this is never repeated, right? I mean, I would lose my membership in the Bros Club forever if word of this got out."
Hermione snickered, sitting up for a moment to make a gesture that was a 'cross your heart' motion across her chest, which Dean happily ogled as her breasts were quite bouncy.
She smiled before laying back down, her head back on her crossed hands, resting on his chest.
Dean looked at her carefully. "Is there, well, is there someone you wanted to ask in particular?" he asked, raising his eyebrow in challenge. "Or just a general rundown of shower observations?"
Hermione thought carefully before answering. She certainly was curious about some boys more than others, but didn't want to give away anything: Dean seemed too observant. "Well, let's start general," she said, "but may ask you specific questions later."
Dean laughed at her. "Always the study-wart," he said kindly.
Hermione laughed with him. "Always."
"Ok," said Dean, not really uncomfortable with discussing this anymore. This we just too fun! This girl was all kinds of awesome! We'll start with my year, unless you want to discuss the 4th years?" he asked.
"No, that's fine," she said quickly, not having ever entertained thoughts about anyone younger than her year.
"Ok, then," said Dean, "starting with my dorm mates. Let me ask you this – who do you think is smallest?"
Hermione was taken aback at him turning the tables on her. "Hey, no fair! You were supposed to tell me, not make me guess!" she pouted.
Dean laughed. "Oh it's more fun this way, you'll see," he said.
Hermione thought it about, before relenting. "Well," she said, feeling almost blasphemous in what she was going to say. "Harry is the shortest boy in the dorm, I mean he is only about 5'7 and everyone is at least a few inches taller, so I would say Harry is the smallest."
Her eyes had drifted downwards during her speech, afraid to meet Dean's eyes. This made Dean smile, and he laughed softly. She really was too good for any of them.
Hermione raised her eyes, surprised to see the mirth there and hear him laugh.
"You would be wrong," he finally said. "Believe it or not, our sweet, noble, clueless Harry is actually quite well endowed."
"Really?" she asked, immediately aware how eager she sounded, and she clamped down on her irritation at Deans answering chuckles.
"Methinks the delectable Ms. Granger was quite interested in that answer," he said with a posh Londoner accent. "In fact, methinks she would not mind a bit of a personal tour of Harrys Magic Broomstick," he said, enjoying the blush suffusing her cheeks. "Afer alll," he said, unable to resist, "who knows what Harry really did with the basilisk in 2nd year? Perchance it's now living in his trousers?"
This was too much for Hermione, and she started giggling, and smacked his chest again. "Dean! Stop" And the two laughed themselves silly for a long minute.
Finally, Dean caught his breath. "Seriously, though, Harry is definitely 2nd in our dorm. Not quite as big to earn the 'Mr. Wonderful' designation, but certainly could be called 'Potters Pleasure Stick' or perhaps Gryffindors Goliath? Or maybe 'The Boy Who Was Hung?"
Hermione laughed so hard that her ribs creaked, imagining all the ridiculous names people would think of if they put their mind to describing Harry's manhood. "Ok" she finally said, catching her breath. "And the other boys?" She tried not to sound too interested, realizing she failed.
Dean snickered. "Well, Neville is fairly well endowed. Maybe six inches or a bit under."
This surprised her. "Really? Neville?"
"Yes," Dean said. "If he ever gets himself into shape and gains some confidence, he will attract a lot of witches. Certainly he's not Harry's size - or mine, of course," he laughed, fending off Hermione's swat - "but he definitely is well developed in the groin."
Laughing at his antics, Hermione frowned, trying to picture Neville with a large 'endowment', but her mental perusing was interrupted by Dean. "After that, well, Seamus is probably next. He's about average, I guess."
Finally, the smile slid from Dean's face. "And then, there is Ron."
"Really?" Hermione said. "That's so strange, Ron is so tall," she said.
"Yes, he is tall," Dean said. "But he is the smallest where it counts, five inches, tops." Dean was not feeling bad for embarrassing Ron with this. He had, after all, said some pretty awful things about Hermione over the years.
Hermione nodded, absorbing the facts. "And how big was Harry?" she couldn't help herself but ask.
Dean smirked. "Well, I would say 7 inches, maybe 8. And pretty wide around too."
Hermione nodded, chewing her lip, and she didn't notice Dean smiling at her for a moment.
"Hey cut it out!" she said, and swatted him again, making him laugh.
"Sorry, sorry," he joked, not sounding sorry at all.
Hermione huffed, and put her head back down. "What about the older years?" she asked, trying to will her red cheeks away.
"Interested in older men, eh Granger?" he asked archly, making her smile. "Well, I don't spend nearly as much time with anyone else where one could, eh, see the goods, and unlike my dorm mates who wake up with hard-ons half the time, I don't really have a good yardstick. Plus, you do understand that some boys have public shrinkage, so it's hard to get an accurate idea."
She huffed again at his nonchalance, but nodded at the new knowledge, urging him to go on with her hand. He smiled, and gave it some thought. "Having said that, it's not hard to spot a monster tool on occasion."
"Who?" she asked, blushing at her eagerness and Dean's knowing smirk. "Well, Oliver Wood had a really, really fat prick. I mean, really fat," he said, holding up his hand to indicate how wide around it really was.
Hermione gaped at this. "No way!" she said, shocked. "How would it fit?" she blurted out before she could censor herself.
Dean laughed, and her cheeks went red again. "You are quite funny, Ms. Granger," he said. "And although it seems outlandishly wide, I've heard some of the girls, like Katie Bell, reminisce about it fondly."
Hermione laughed at this, and briefly wondered why she never was involved in fun gossip like this. Was it because people thought of her as a stick in the mud?
She would need to think about that.
Dean was thinking, with his brows furrowed. "And Cormac Mclaggen, braggart and asshole that he is...well, he is pretty well hung," he said. "I think that's one of the reasons he is suck a tool."
Hermione laughed, easily believing it of Mclaggen. He was well built, tall but had wide shoulders and thick arms, and was a cocky, arrogant pillock.
"Also," continued Dean, "Cormac is one of the only boys from the older years that actually walks around the showers with a hard on, and he will put a towel around his shoulders but not his waist when he is hard. Clearly he wants everyone to see how big his prick is. The only question is which prick is bigger – the one between his legs, or his personality."
Hermione snickered, knowing that Cormac was indeed something of a berk.
"And that's really all," Dean finally said. "The rest of the boys don't really walk around the showers with anything too impressive, or at least I haven't noticed."
Hermione nodded, thinking about what she had heard. Finally, she sighed; "Well, I never will get a chance to 'independently verify' any of this, I'm sure. Especially with Harry."
Dean shook his head. "Hermione, your acting daft. I know for certain that Harry has been in lust - and probably in love - with you since at least 4th year. And since the Yule Ball in 4th, I can tell you I've heard him moan your name in his sleep at least once or twice a month."
Hermione spluttered out a denial, but Dean shook his head. "Hermione, the boys in his dorm know that Harry had a shitty childhood. We've heard him talk in his sleep, we've seen his scars, we know how he is with physical touching. Hell, we've all seen the copy of his Hogwarts letter he saved that Hagrid gave him, it was addressed to the "Cupboard under the stairs." He once admitted he lived in there for 10 years, and was pretty badly neglected by his relatives.
Hermione had suspected a lot of this, but couldn't understand at the moment its relevance to their discussion. And Dean, seeing her about to argue, said "He wouldn't know love if it him in the face, I think."
He looked away thoughtfully, as Hermione sat up, on the edge of the couch, fluttery whispers in her chest.
She couldn't think about Harry while laying naked on top of someone else.
When Dean spoke again, it was with a quiet, deliberate cadence to his voice. Somehow authoritative. "I'm not the only one who thinks Harry loves you, either. Especially after some of the things he said this past year, and during the Tri-Wiz."
He paused for a moment, his eyes screwed up in concentration, as if remembering something. "In fact, I remember him mumbling to himself after the 2nd task of the Tournament, something like 'I've lost her for sure."
Hermione chewed her lip, remembering the 2nd task, when she was what Viktor missed most.
Dean nodded to himself, finally sitting up, ignoring his own nudity and that of the beautiful girl next to him. Looking at the fire, shadows of the flames dancing and flicking against the wall and ceiling of the room, he was lost in thought. "Seamus and I thought he must have been talking about Cho; I mean, he made no secret of wanting to go with her to the Ball, and then they looked cozy after the 2nd task."
Hermione interrupted his musing, not daring to believe what he was saying. "And how do you know he wasn't talking about Cho?"
Dean's eyes found hers, and he nodded at her expression, as if satisfied what he saw there, and knew for certain know Hermione was just as hopeless about Harry as he was about her. He didn't say anything for a moment, and Hermione began to fidget under his scrutiny - not because she was naked, but because he looked like he could see her deep, hidden feelings for Harry.
But before she became uncomfortable, he chuckled, releasing the tension. "Hermione, if I was in any way smart, I wouldn't be telling you any of this. I mean," and here he waggled his eyebrows at her, making her blush," after what we just did, I would love to keep you for myself."
As she made to interrupt in protest, he held up his hand, and his wide smile made her disregard his possessive remarks. "But I know deep down that you like Harry, and I know he likes you." He paused for a moment, and in a quieter voice said "maybe he even loves you."
Hermione's face scrunched up in a way that Dean found adorable. "But," she blurted out, before thinking hard on what she wanted to say. Finally though, she repeated her earlier question. "Again, how do you know he wasn't talking about Cho?" She bit her lip while waiting for his answer.
"Well, there were lots of little things, really. Any one of them wouldn't be enough to convince me, but from about a week before the first task and all the way until about two months ago," Again, he put his hand up to stall her torrent of questions he could see she was about to unleash on him.
"Sheesh, relax, I'll tell you," he chuckled, and she let her breath out with an exasperated huff. Clearly, he knew her pretty well.
"Well, for starters, Harry is different when you are around. Since sometime during 4th year, he looks at you differently than anyone else - boy or girl. It's like, like," Dean searched for the words, "like his entire face softens when you are in the same room, and his eyes always track you when you leave. Like he is aware of you on some subconscious level or something," he finished lamely, feeling like he didn't convey the emotion strongly enough.
Hermione shook her head, never having noticed such a thing, but she bit her lip to keep from blurting something out that would derail his train of thought.
And, because deep down, in a place she thought she had left behind and wasn't even conscious of anymore, was a desperate longing for what he was saying to be true.
"It's actually kind of obvious once you know to look for it," he said. "Always, and I mean always - up until the last month or so anyway - it's like he would orient himself in a room so that you were the center of his attention."
Dean was looking at the fire again. And his eyes - such desperation and sadness there. Not sure what that's about, except maybe that he is all screwed up from his relatives and feels that he feels he doesn't deserve you." Dean tapped a long finger on his chin. "Or maybe he's scared of you getting hurt, I mean you did get hexed pretty badly at the DOM last year, and Harry would flinch whenever someone would mention your injury to him."
This was all news to Hermione, and she sat there, thinking on what he was saying.
Dean nodded, as if confirming things to himself. "And then, besides the way he looks at you, are the things he says. Like, if anyone dares to say anything bad about you, he would jump to your defense."
Hermione shook her head. "But he's my best friend, of course he would defend me,' she explained."I do the same for him."
But Dean was shaking his head. "No, not even close. I mean, I've heard him defend Ron to people who disparage him, or his manners or even his goals in life. Sure, he defends him, but it's sort of like an automatic reflex that he himself doesn't believe."
Hermione nodded thoughtfully at that. It was certainly true that some of Ron's habits and mannerisms were appalling.
"But with you," he continued on, "there is like a fire in his eyes. He can actually get quite worked up and vicious. And most people know better than to say anything in his presence about you."
Hermione looked thoughtful, and her brow creased as things she had heard before - snippets of conversation that ended when she came near - suddenly came in to focus.
But Dean was talking again, interrupting her thoughts. "In fact," he said, "I heard the real reason he and Cho broke up was because she sort of gave him an ultimatum. Sort of a "if I am your girlfriend I am going to have to come first with you, not anyone else, especially not Hermione Granger."
"What?" Hermione looked at him in shock. "I never heard that!"
Dean nodded. "Apparently, Harry took about five seconds to decide, and told her that would never happen." Dean looked carefully at Hermione then, and saw she was rightfully stunned. "And when she ran out crying, he didn't even turn around for her, and then he went to find you."
Hermione felt herself wanting to deny this...this tripe! But she couldn't, a tiny spark had been lit, and she was going to hear him through.
"After that," he said after a slight pause, "no one would say anything bad about you. And that's when I began to really pay attention to the things he would sometimes mumble."
"What does he say?" she asked, hoping the hint of longing and desperation was not noticeable to Dean. And when she saw the corner of his lip twitch, she knew that he had detected it.
"I once heard him talking to himself, late in 5th year, about whether he should do something or not. I didn't really understand the references at the time - though now I know it was about Sirius Black - but he would say something like 'but 'Mione, I need to tell him.' I thought he was a bit nutters, and asked him what was going on."
Hermione leaned forward, desperately curious herself. "So what did he mean?"
Dean smiled at her. "He admitted that the voice of his conscience spoke in your voice - that it had since 2nd year. That he tried to think what you would do in a given situation before doing anything that would cause trouble or that went against the rules or something." Dean paused, trying to remember the exact words. "I think he said you were his 'moral compass' or his 'moral center.' And that he would never want to disappoint you."
Hermione leaned back, stunned at the revelation. Did Harry really think that highly of her?
But before she could formulate a response, Dean was speaking again. "And don't get me started on his dreams about you! He's woken all of us up many times, let me tell you!"
At her gobsmacked expression, his voice turned thoughtful. "Though I have to admit, the last few months there hasn't been a single hint of one." His smile faded, and he spoke so softly that she had to strain to hear. "Maybe it has something to do with the way you two have been fighting or the way you are always ragging on him this year. No one knows what that's all about, but Ron seems happy about it for some reason."
Hermione's mind was spinning at all of this information, and she felt a stab of guilt in her stomach when he said how Harry was being treated poorly by her. She had almost
answered with a denial, but she stopped as she knew it was true, and she knew the reason for it.
"His nighttime ramblings started as early as 3rd year, but I don't think anyone realized what was going on at the time," he said. "Sometimes, he would whisper your name in his sleep; other times, he would moan it, and then, after you-know-who came back, he would sometimes thrash in his sleep, calling your name in desperation." He pondered for a moment, before looking at her again. "Sometimes he didn't even say your name, but we knew he was dreaming about you."
Was it really true? Did Harry like her? "What...what did he say in his dreams?" she asked.
Dean smiled at her. "Let's see, hmm, since second year, when he would wake at night, mumbling your name and shaking in fear after you were petrified."
Hermione nodded. She knew Harry was upset when she was petrified.
"Or," Dean went on, "how he would sneak out, every night, to hold your hand and talk to you in the infirmary. When we told him he was nutters, that you couldn't hear him, he said that if there was even the slightest chance you could, he wanted you to know he was there for you."
Now THAT was something Hermione didn't know. Why didn't Harry ever tell her this?
But Dean was speaking again. "In 3rd year, when Ron told him that he better not forgive you for the broom thing, Harry literally used to sit in his bed, shaking. I heard him basically praying that you wouldn't hate him, but that Ron was his first friend and he hated having to be put in the middle of an argument." "And then, I actually saw him cry. He'd deny it, but I saw it."
Hermione was shaking her head. Was all of this true?
"In 4th year, he wanted to take you to the ball, but was terrified. I actually asked him if he was going to ask you, and you know what he said? He told me that someone had put his name in the Goblet to get him hurt or killed, and if you were dating then he would be placing a giant X on your back. When I told him you already had one because you were his best friend, he just shook his head and mumbled something I wasn't supposed to hear."
"What?" Hermione asked, fearfully. "What did he say?"
"He said something like 'if they knew how he really felt about you, then you and your parents would never be safe again'.
As Hermione absorbed this, Dean continued. "And don't even get me started on how many times he's woken me when moaning your name in his sleep."
"What?" she exclaimed. "You're having me on now."
Dean smiled a toothy grin at her. "Nope, not at all. Ron and Neville never hear, as those two snore so loudly that they couldn't hear anything over their own snores. But Seamus and I have been woken at least a dozen times in 4th year alone."
Hermione was stunned, not knowing what to say to all this.
Was it really true? Did Harry like her?
"Everyone in the dorm knew how he feels. Ron gets angry about it, but even he is not that dense to know how Harry really feels about you." Dean took a deep breath. "But Ron, he talks a lot of shit about you behind your back. Be careful of him," Dean warned.
All of this was too much for Hermione at the moment. She had been trying to win Ron's attention all year - after having given up on Harry - and it looks like she made a bad mistake.
Dean seemed to read her mind. "Look, if I was sane I wouldn't be telling you any of this, and would be trying to convince you to keep having fun with me. And for the record, I would love to," and he gave her a little leer that made her smile, and a little thrill of desire shoot through her.
But then he shook his head. "But if I did that, I would be no better than Weasley, and would be taking advantage of you. "He let out a sigh. "The truth is, Hermione, I think Harry is completely in love with you, but because of his nobility, and his shitty childhood where he was basically abused - and his belief he doesn't deserve you or needs to keep you safe - he has done nothing about it."
As he watched Hermione's brow scrunch up and her flushed face, he forced himself to say the rest. "And, I think Harry deserves the best witch for him in the school. And that witch, Hermione, is you. There is no question."
Hermione looked over at Dean, trying to judge his truthfulness. Finally, she moved forward and wrapped him in a huge hug, squeezing him against herself, and trying to ignore the tingling in her nipples as his toned chest rubbed against her.
Dean leaned back, looking into her eyes, and gave her a soft kiss on the lips. As the pair finally disengaged, with a few more heated looks, they dressed and finally looked at each other.
"Thank you, Dean," she said quietly. "I had a great night."
Dean smiled at her, white teeth shining and his dimples giving him a very disarming look. "You are very welcome. And for the record, I had an amazing night, and am for a repeat any time you want."
The pair walked from the room together. Dean took one look at Hermione chewing her lip, and knew exactly what was on her mind and laughed.
"What?" she demanded, but the force of her glare was ruined by her red cheeks.
"Nothing at all, dear Hermione," joked Dean. "But I think, you should go get your man."
End