God, help me. It's almost three in the bloody morning, and I can't fucking sleep. I didn't realize jet lag could hit someone this hard. Bugger.
oh, and i don't own harry potter. though i do wish i owned draco malfoy, sexy little ferret that he is.
warning: very mild smuttage going on. just some not-very-descriptive dry humping
The next time they talk goes like this:
Harry was searching for her. Hermione was avoiding him. After a day of awkward silences and Harry's fumbling, bumbling attempts to talk to her, their confrontation came in the form of Hermione's tumble down her Head Girl staircase. Harry, who had been pacing in front of said stairs heavily debating how badly he would get hexed should he wander into her room, was there just in time for when Hermione utterly lost balance four steps from the bottom.
Of course, she reasoned later, she probably wouldn't have fallen if he hadn't been staring at her so unnervingly.
But, this author digresses.
She had forgotten to tie her shoelace. Not a particularly 'Hermione' thing to do, but then again, neither was tackling her best friend against a stone wall. Ah, well, point is that her shoelace caught under her other trainer, pulling her foot out to an awkward angle and forcing her ankle to give out from underneath her. Tumbling forward, she held her hands out and squeezed her eyes shut, anticipating a hard collision with the ground.
Instead, she collided with Harry.
He staggered, clutching her to him as he fell backwards and hit the carpeted floor of the Head Commons Room with a 'thump'. She landed on him, face buried into his neck once more, and pelvis fully jolting against his. Which, you know, bloody horrid thing to happen to a boy when he's trying to be sensible.
Harry stifled a groan, swallowing, then saying, "We have got to stop meeting like this, Hermione. I'm starting to believe you're planning this."
She stiffened against him, then abruptly sat up. Dragging her legs forward so that she kneeled over him, straddling his hips, she leveled her hands on his chest, huffing indignantly. "Please, Harry. Like I would do th...are you alright?"
'No,' Harry thought to himself, gritting his teeth as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. His hands shot out to grip Hermione's waist, pressing her down onto him even more. 'I'm not alright, damn it. If you weren't bloody ON ME, then maybe I would...oh, Merlin. Oh Merlin, do that again. Yeah, shift a little to the left...gods.'
He gasped, unable to hold it in anymore. His eyes flew open as she moved above him, leaning forward to bring her face closer to his. "Harry?" she questioned worriedly. "Harry, what are you doing?"
"Hermione," he breathed out huskily, before lifting one of his hands free of her waist only to tangle it in her hair as he pulled her down into a kiss. Pulling back almost as quickly as he had pulled her in, he shifted his attention to her neck, nuzzling and sucking against it as she moaned against him.
"Harry," she gasped out. "Harry...what are you doing?"
"You started this," he muttered against her collarbone as an answer. "You bloody started this, Hermione Granger. Just (kiss) had to (kiss) hide from Terry Boot and (suck) kiss me." He rolled them over, so that now he lay above her body. Arms on either side of her now, so that he could hover above her, he parted her legs with one of his own, then pressed down into her so that she could feel the hardness growing in his trousers. She gasped again, but if the way she wrapped her legs around his waist meant anything, she certainly didn't mind.
"You," he whispered to her, bending down and brushing feather light kisses against her cheek and mouth, and began to move against her. "are absolutely addicting, Hermione." He kissed her then, slanting his open mouth against hers, and she responded eagerly. Her hands buried themselves in his hair as they continued to thrust at each other through their clothing.
Harry had never felt this way. Well, yeah, he had, but that was in a completely different context and also, in the showers. But this was different, because this time it was actually with the girl of his dreams. And there she was, kissing him and feeling him and moving with him and everything was hot, too bloody hot and oh god oh god oh god he was going to come...
Hermione's head suddenly flew away from his with a gasp, her eyes widening and her grip tightening on him. He gritted his teeth (the buggers were going to be worn out by now if he wasn't careful), grunting out a "Hermione...bloody hell," before the world exploded in front of his eyes.
By the time he floated back down to earth, he had his face buried against Hermione's neck as they gasped for air against each other. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he sensed that he might be crushing her, so he rolled them over once more so that she lay on top of him.
"Bloody hell," he breathed against her. "That was amazing."
"Mm."
He lifted an eyebrow. "Have I reduced the great Hermione Jane Granger to monosyllables?"
"Shut up." She nuzzled her nose against his neck. "You did this to me."
"Quite happily, too," he added contently. "You know, this could've happened sooner if you hadn't avoided me."
"I'm sorry," she said, and rolled herself off of him. Standing, she straightened her blouse as he climbed to his feet. "Next time I practically molest you in front of Terry, I'll try not to feel so mortified."
"Brilliant," he said, grinning at her as he gripped her hand and led her towards his dorm. "Now, I feel like a shower. I've made a bit of a mess of myself." He glanced down at the darker shade of black that splotched over the crotch of his trousers. "Bugger. Anyway, shower. Care to join me?"
She smiled, leaning up to kiss him one last time. "Always."
A/N--sorry about the somewhat crap ending. as i said, jet lag. bastard. anyway, review please!