Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of those characters created by J.K. Rowling. I don't own Robert Coover's story "the babysitter" and I hope he doesn't sue me because I messed with his story.
Author's note: Okay, this is kind of a companion or sequel fic to "In the Library". This time I took some of Coover's paragraphs and changed/altered them slightly so that they would fit to Draco and Hermione. Some of the paragraphs written below are mine. I guess, you won't have trouble to figure out which are mine and which are Coover's.
So, I'll post a little help note tomorrow and give you my explanation of the plot/story.
Have fun reading and please review.
Oh, and the rating went up, it's now R. The following story contains sexual allusions and sex so if you're not of age please don't go on reading. J
***
In the Bathroom***
I soak in the hot tub. The water is sentenced with vanilla and honey. Bubbles float on it. I lean back and relax. The entire room is filled with a moist warmth and I hold my breath sliding down deeper in the hot suds until my whole body is welcomed by the cozy and comfortable warm water.
***
I love to sink into the hot fragrant suds. I can stretch out, submerge, up to my chin. It gives me a good tingly sleepy feeling.
***
Not actually in the tub, just getting in. One foot on the mat, the other in the water. Bent over slightly, buttocks flexed, teats swaying, holding on to the edge of the tub.
'Oh, excuse me! I only wanted…!'
He passes over my astonishment, the awkward excuses, moves quickly to the part where he reaches out to –
"Hermione! What on earth are you doing in there?"
"I'm taking a bath. Leave me alone Ginny, please!"
***
He soaps my back, smooth and slippery under his hand. I'm doubled over, against my knees, between his legs. My brown hair, reaching my gleaming shoulders, is wet at the edges. The soap slips, falls between his legs. He fishes for it, finds it, slips it behind him.
'Help me find it,' he whispers hoarsely in my ear.
***
I've just sunk down into the tubful of warm fragrant suds, ready for a nice long soaking, when there's a knock on the door. Wrapping a towel around me, I go to answer: no one there.
***
I gaze at him, astonished, yet strangely moved.
***
Fumbling behind her, she finds it, wraps her hand around it, tugs. 'Oh!' she gasps, pulling her hand back quickly, her cheeks turning crimson.
'I…I thought it was the soap!'
I squeeze her close between my thights, pull her back toward me, one hand sliding down her tummy between her legs.
***
He's already in the tub. Way down in the tub. Staring at me through the water. He looks pale. I'm nervous.
***
We kiss each other passionately. My hands roaming her body, fondling her hungrily. I take in her very being. I longed for her for so long. Too long. I nearly drown in my longing for her.
***
She loves him. He loves her. They whirl around airily through a magical landscape of vanilla and honey and deep blue. Her brown hair coils and wisps softly.
***
Her soft wet breasts rise and fall in the water, and her tummy looks pale and ripply.
***
I've no more than stepped into the tub for a quick bath, when he announces from outside the prefect's bathroom that he wants to take a bath. I sigh: Just an excuse, I know.
'You'll have to wait.' The little nuisance.
'I won't wait'
'Ok, then coma ahead, but I'm taking a bath.' I suppose that will stop him, but it doesn't. In he comes. I slide down into the suds until I'm eye-level with the edge of the tub. He hesitates.
***
At the door, her hand on the know, she hesitates, staring timidly down on her shoes.
'Granger?' I peek at her over the edge of the tub, trying to keep a straight face, as she sneaks a nervous glance back over her shoulder.
'As long as you bothered me,' I say, 'you might as well soap my back.'
***
She huddles in my arms like a child. Lovingly, knowledgeably, I wrap her nakedness. How compact, how tight and small her body is!
Kissing her ear, I stare down at the sill clear water.
***
'I'll join you.'
***
She feels chilled and oddly a little frightened.
***
Her little hand, clutching the bar of soap, lathers shyly a narrow space between my shoulder-blades. I'm doubled forward against my knees, buried in rich suds, peeking at her over the edge of my shoulder. The soap slithers out of her grip and plunks into the water.
'I…I dropped the soap,' she whispers.
I: Find it.
***
I get out of the tub. The water is cold now anyway, and Ginny is out there again, babbling and waiting to get in the bathroom. I wrap a towel around me and shiver. I stare in the mirrow for a few seconds, then put on my clothes and leave everything behind me.
***
I want him. Oh God, why on earth does it have to be him?
Why not him?
***
I want her. Oh God, why on earth does it have to be her?
Why not her?
***
There's no harm in dreaming, is there?
