Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Not mine - although I so desperately wish they were.

A/N: So...a lot of you hated that cliffhanger. Hehe. Hopefully this chapter makes up for the torture, at least a bit ;)

Thank you to Maria aka MarsPotter for all her help, support and encouragement. This story would not have been possible without her.

Trigger warning: Please note, this chapter is full of smut. In fact, it is almost entirely smut. As I've noted earlier both Harry and Hermione are over 16 (and therefore over the age of consent) in this story but if the thought of teenagers having physical relations bothers you in any way, then you would do well to skip this chapter. I would totally understand if you do. If it doesn't, then read on and enjoy ;)

Also, it should be noted that it's been a while since I wrote all out lemons so I'm understandably a bit nervous about this. Plus, my son just went back to in person school today for the first time since the beginning of the pandemic (almost 18 months!) and I'm feeling super nervous and more than a bit emotional. So, it would help tremendously if you let me know how I did. Looking forward to your comments...hoping for some cheer and encouragement or barring that, some constructive criticism. No flames please...I can't handle them today :(

"Harry…?" Her voice was tentative; she'd mistaken his speechlessness for reticence. That wouldn't do. That wouldn't do at all. Well, he'd just have to show her how he really felt, wouldn't he?

But before he could do what he really wanted; before he could kiss her the way he was dying to; shouldn't he talk to her about his conversation with Ron? About how Ron didn't care for her the way she'd been hoping he did? About how he'd given them his blessing?

A part - and a rather large one at that - of him didn't want to say anything. Merlin forbid, what if she called the whole thing off once she knew Ron was totally out of the picture? What if she wanted nothing to do with him then? Could he live with never holding her, never touching her again? He shuddered in revulsion. Just the thought of being physically distant from her forever was abhorrent.

Still...not saying anything smacked of deceit. And if there was one thing that Harry couldn't stand the thought of, it was lying to Hermione, even if it was a lie of omission. Taking this (relationship…? Could this thing between them be classified as such?) any further without having that discussion would be wrong, wouldn't it? Yes, yes it would.

"Err, Mione…" He began hesitatingly, his voice heavy with trepidation, "Before we go any further, I need to talk to you about...about Ron..."

Hermione stilled for an instant. Before he could say anything further she moved closer to him and pressed her fingers gently but firmly against his lips - her intent unmistakable. "Shh…don't," she urged softly. "I don't want to talk...not about him, at least not right now. Don't get me wrong. I know we need to discuss this but somehow this, right here, doesn't seem like the time or the place. Right now, this...is just about you and me. Do you understand?"

He did. Hermione Granger was telling him that she wanted him too. Desperately. (Definitely more than she wanted anyone else - even Ron.) And he didn't have it in him to deny her any further.

He growled low in his throat and captured her lips in a bruising kiss, unable to resist the temptation she presented any longer. Sweet Merlin, she felt so good. Like she belonged in his arms. She moaned, standing up on her tiptoes, clearly eager to get as close to him as she possibly could.

And yet, it wasn't enough. She wasn't close enough.

Sensing his frustration, she pulled away from him for a brief instant. He couldn't see what she was up to but could hear her moving around, muttering a few spells. There was a loud cacophony of sounds and the next thing he knew, she was pulling him by his hand, urging him to sit down on what seemed to be a bed…? Holy…! He followed her lead, in complete and total awe of her capabilities. Just like that, she'd transfigured one of the stray pieces of furniture in the room into a freaking bed. She was brilliant, absolutely brilliant.

With her usual single-minded focus, she urged him to scoot backwards, pushing on his shoulders until he was sprawled out on the transfigured mattress just the way she wanted. Then she stepped away.

By this time, Harry had had enough. Impatiently, he reached out for her, his body crying out for more. Thankfully, she didn't resist. She came to him instantly; lying down next to him; her body curving around him sinuously like she belonged there.

The effect was electrifying. The fact that he couldn't see her caused all his other senses to explode. Her every movement, all of her touches felt so much more intense to his heightened senses. He couldn't get enough of her.

He pulled her even closer, craving her with every fiber of his being. Then he froze. The blatant evidence of his desire for her was rather difficult to hide from her in this position.

He had a moment of sheer, unadulterated panic. What in the world would she think about him now? Would she pull away from him in disgust? Would she stop talking to him entirely? Had he ruined their friendship beyond all hope of repair? Because clearly, there was nothing even remotely friend-like about his reaction to her.

"Oh good Godric, Harry…More…" She pleaded, obliterating his doubts entirely.

She didn't find him gross and disgusting, thank fucking Merlin.

Feeling more confident, he pulled away from her mouth, his lips trailing her cheeks all the way down the slope of her throat and then her neck. Her skin was soft, warm and supple under his lips – like liquid silk. Overcome by the urge to taste her, he darted his tongue out and lapped the curve of her neck.

"Harry!" She mewled needily, sending a shot of heat soaring through his body.

Fuck, she tasted divine – like rich warm chocolate mixed with a generous shot of firewhiskey. And much like firewhiskey – the taste of her burned down his throat. He was instantly addicted, craving more. He clutched her tighter, raining open mouthed kisses along her shoulder – only to be faced with a barrier. Her damn jumper was in the way.

"Can I take this off?" He questioned huskily, his hands bunching in the offending garment.

"Ye…yes…" She stuttered, her voice a combination of nervousness and heat.

He wasted no time, tugging on the material in question in an effort to pull it off quickly. He didn't want to risk her changing her mind. Of course, the task was easier said than done. The damn thing resisted all his efforts, clinging stubbornly to her like it was a second skin. Harry growled in annoyance.

To his everlasting relief, Hermione decided to pitch in, grabbing hold of the pesky piece of clothing from the other side and pulling it up along with him. Finally their combined efforts paid off - the jumper slid off her shoulders, over the top of her head and into his hands. His pulse quickened. Sweet merciful Merlin. Hermione was lying next to him; half naked.

He wanted to see her. He had to see her.

"Take the blindfold off, Hermione." He ordered huskily, feeling impatient.

A brief whisper of a spell later, the obstruction disappeared. He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the sudden change in lighting. A couple of seconds passed before his vision returned to normal and his surroundings came into focus. Then he saw her and promptly lost his breath.

In the dim light filtering in through the dormers, Hermione looked stunning. Unbeknownst to him, she'd toed off her sneakers and socks awhile back - probably while he was otherwise occupied getting reacquainted with her lips again. She lay next to him, bare from the waist up.

(He'd checked with Ron, who'd checked with Lavender, who'd informed him - via Ron of course - that the women in the magical community didn't need to make use of restrictive undergarments like the muggles did. Instead they used a nifty invention called the 'Support charm' that was apparently taught to all girls when they reached the appropriate age. Of course, some women still chose to wear brassiere's or bra's as they were called but that was almost always just for aesthetic reasons. Harry's brain had almost exploded with that piece of information and he'd not been able to look any of the girls in his close acquaintance in the eyes ever since he'd come to know that they were mostly all bare under their school uniforms. Ever since that night, he'd also said multiple - silent - 'thank-you's' to Magic in general and in particular to the enterprising wizards or witches unknown who'd come up with the idea of the support charm in the first place.)

He eyed her in breathless disbelief, hungrily taking in her beauty. Her arms were wrapped around herself in an obvious effort to preserve her modesty. And even though he couldn't see all of her like he was desperate to, he was still utterly amazed by the fact that she was even allowing this level of intimacy between them. How had he gotten so incredibly lucky - to be able to see this side of her?

She was slim but not overly so – sporting perfectly rounded curves in all the right places. Her glorious hair had come out of its haphazard bun and tumbled down the edge of the makeshift bed in wild disarray. Her pale complexion had a peaches and cream glow; a clear indication of her embarrassment due to her state of undress. Contrarily, her cinnamon colored eyes had a sultry, beckoning look in them.

She was, in fact, a study in contrasts - a seductive temptress one moment, a shy schoolgirl the next; a confident and self assured girl one moment, insecure and scared the next; needy and demanding one moment, hesitant and tentative the very next - and she drove him absolutely crazy with want.

"Merlin, Hermione…" He breathed reverently, "You're stunning!"

If possible, she blushed even more.

Would her skin be as soft, as supple as it looked? He felt like he would die if he didn't find out. Would her breasts fit in his palms? And what color would her nipples be?

Slowly, carefully – so as to not spook her – he reached a hand out and gently tried to pry her arms out of their death grip around her torso. She flinched. He stopped instantly. Just because he needed to see her didn't mean that she should be comfortable revealing herself to him in that way and he would never ever in his life force her to do something that she wasn't comfortable with.

"Can I see you; all of you..? Please?" he requested hoarsely.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. He waited, eager for her response but willing to be patient for her sake. Without opening her eyes, she loosened her arms, inching them down from her chest incrementally.

His breath caught in his throat. Fucking hell! He was about to see Hermione's breasts.

Inch by inch, they came into view – two perfect mounds, big enough to fit in his palms perfectly, tipped by luscious, dark pink, button-sized nipples. They were currently hard and pebbled with her arousal. His mouth watered, his heart pounding with triumph. It wasn't just him…she wanted him as well.

Her eyes opened – her gaze a combination of shyness and heat.

"I'm going to touch you now…" he informed her of his intentions, praying mentally that she wouldn't stop him. Or worse, slap him.

She nodded imperceptibly, giving him the go ahead to indulge his curiosity.

Thank Merlin! His heart jumped with joy. He schooled his features, not wanting to appear too desperate or greedy. At the same time, there was no time to waste. What if she changed her mind? Unable to bear the thought, he propped himself up on one elbow while reaching out to cup her glorious flesh with the other.

Soft. Warm. Supple. Glorious.

His thumb swept over her turgid nipple, wanting to see how it would feel.

"Ungh!" She keened, her whole body arching off the bed, pushing her flesh into his palm.

Fuck! She was so fucking hot.

"Harry, please..." she panted.

"What do you want?" he questioned hoarsely. At that very moment, if she'd asked him for his life, he'd have gladly given it to her.

"Kiss me, please." She demanded.

Gladly. He leaned closer, intending on devouring her mouth whole when she stopped him with a hand to his chest.

"Not my lips…" She flushed, trailing off abruptly.

Not on her lips? Then where was he supposed to kiss her? He was confused. She cupped his head, using the grip to ease him down, towards her torso. Oh Merlin… He felt like his heart would pound right out of his bloody chest.

This couldn't be real. It had to be a dream. And yet, it was a dream he never wanted to wake up from. Feeling like he was the luckiest guy in the whole damn world, he opened his mouth and engulfed her nipple into his mouth.

"Harry," she gasped. "Yes... Yes! Oh Merlin, don't stop."

Well, who was he to go against a ladies wishes? (Never mind the fact that even a herd of wild hippogriffs couldn't have pried him away from her body at that moment in time.)

He suckled her flesh greedily, alternately lapping at her nipple with his tongue and biting it with his teeth.

"Oh Merlin…please, please," She panted, undulating against him.

Fuck, she was glorious - her boobs were fucking glorious (and he wasn't just saying that because they were the first - and only - pair of breasts he'd ever seen, let alone touched, in his entire life.)

"Tell me what you need, Hermione," He asked, in complete awe at how expressive…how responsive she was.

"Touch me." she demanded, surprising him with her forcefulness. He grinned. He should've expected her to be bossy in this aspect of her life too.

"Show me how." As always, he trusted her to have a plan and to know how to execute it - right down to the very last detail.

She scrambled around, unbuttoning and unzipping her jeans and easing them down her hips. A wisp of delicate white material peeked out, sending a tidal wave of lust roaring through his system. She caught his hand, guiding it to the opening of her trousers and urged him wordlessly to take over.

He'd died and gone to heaven. There was no other possible explanation for this…this bounty that had fallen in his lap.

Unable to stop himself, his fingers brushed the silky smooth fabric of her panties. Then, he caressed the skin right above it. Soft though her panties were, her skin was infinitely softer. "Are you sure?" he couldn't help asking, even though it was amply evident that this was what she wanted.

She nodded vigorously.

Okay then.

He took a deep gulp of air to calm his nerves (To be honest he felt like a swarm of cornish pixies were running amok inside his stomach) Feeling a tad bit calmer, he allowed his fingers to sweep under the elastic of her panties, touching her womanly folds for the very first time. Holy fuck! She was soaking wet, her body weeping with arousal.

Unable to stop himself, he kissed her mindlessly while allowing his fingers to dip inside her. Soft, spongy heat greeted him.

"Harry, Harry, Harry…" She chanted mindlessly, egging him on. It was such a turn on. Emboldened by her actions, he swept his thumb over her hidden bundle of nerves. She bucked into him, inadvertently causing his fingers to penetrate deeper inside her. He almost saw stars.

After taking a much needed moment to catch his breath, he sped up his actions - alternating between pumping his fingers inside her body and caressing her turgid clitoris - until she convulsed, her entire body arching off the makeshift bed in pleasure. There was a sudden burst of light from the ends of her fingers – a form of accidental magic that he'd never seen her perform before. Her mouth opened wide in a wordless scream.

Sweet fucking Godric! She was glorious. Magnificent. A veritable goddess.

Even though his body was still impossibly hard, he got a strange kind of satisfaction in being the one responsible for her pleasure. He'd given her an orgasm. He – Harry Potter – had made Hermione come. He could live with that.

Despite not having had an orgasm himself, what had just happened was the stuff that dreams were made of. This was the first (and probably the only) time that he would ever get to witness Hermione Granger come totally undone. He had nothing to complain about. He continued petting her absently while basking in the satisfaction he got from seeing her reduced to this state.

"Oh Merlin Harry…" She writhed against him, clearly searching for something. "I...I...need..." She sounded desperate...her voice still thick with desire. "I need...more," She gasped.

His internal glow of contentment flickered, dimmed then disappeared completely. "Er…" he stuttered; panicked. More? What more could she need? Was there more to this than he was aware of? And if so, what? What if...what if he'd totally misjudged her reactions and she hadn't had an orgasm? What if he'd been congratulating himself preemptively? Merlin, how mortifying would that be? After all, what did he know about all of this? He'd never seen any girl reach her peak before, much less Hermione. He could've totally mistaken what had just happened.

"I...I need you inside me." She gasped, her open gaze finding his with unerring accuracy. Her eyes were a dark whirlpool of want and heat and need. He felt like he was seared by their molten depths.

Then her words sank in. Bloody buggering hell! No way could she be implying…

But clearly she was. Her hands went to the fastener of his trousers, fumbling around with the button. It was surreal.

He hesitated. Before they went any further, he had to know...he had to be sure. "Hermione, er, did you…just now...? Did I just make you…? Er, was it any good, for you?" Bollocks! This was harder than he thought.

Thankfully Hermione seemed to know exactly what it was that he was asking. She blushed, nodding wordlessly. Fuck! He hadn't made a mistake. She had had an orgasm. And now she wanted more. Impossible as it seemed, his cock hardened even further. Merlin, but he wanted her too - hopelessly, frantically, helplessly. He longed for her with every part of his being.

Still, he was fucking terrified. At no point of time during this encounter - until that very moment - had he ever imagined that they would end up here. In fact, he hadn't dared to hope for it. Each new thing that they had done, each new milestone that they had crossed had seemed like a revelation in itself. And it had been enough. Or so he'd thought. But it turned out that he'd been lying to himself. Giving her pleasure - amazing though it was - would never be enough. He needed this...needed her.

Bloody hell! He was equal parts thrilled and nervous. He'd never done anything like this before. What if he was horrendous at it? What if he bollocksed it all up? What if he lost her forever? No, no he couldn't live without her. He knew that now. She was a vital part of his life, of his very existence.

"Hermione, are you sure?" He asked again tentatively, feeling very overwhelmed all of a sudden.

"Yes." She stated again, emphatically. "I need this. I need you."

Well, at least one of them was sure about this. And the fact that it was Hermione, who was sure, was oddly reassuring. She didn't just rush into things like Harry did. She read and researched and planned everything right down to the very last, meticulous detail. She always had a backup plan. Hell, she probably had backup plans for her backup plans.

Okay, okay. If Hermione was sure, then he...they could do this. Feeling a bit more assured by her words, Harry joined her in getting rid of their remaining pieces of clothing. Soon they were both naked; exposed in a way that they'd never been before in front of the other.

Instead of feeling self conscious, like he'd feared, all he felt was a dawning sense of wonder. They were going to do this. They were really going to do this. And nothing had ever felt so right.

Her fingers wrapped around his turgid length, pumping her hand up and down experimentally . "Hermione..." He couldn't help the tortured groan that escaped him.

In retrospect, he was glad that she'd come already. He was so hard, so impossibly turned on that he wasn't sure he was going to last very long.

Thankfully, she seemed to recognize his dilemma - which wasn't surprising, considering that on most days, she seemed to know him better than he knew himself.

She urged him onto his back and pushed herself up until she was looming over him. Her gaze took in his disheveled appearance and the all consuming desperation and need in his eyes. She leaned in...her lips skimming his chest like a butterfly's wings. He bucked up, heat racing through his veins like liquid fire.

Merlin's balls! Just like everything else, she was brilliant at this too.

Her hair fell down around his face; a cloud of silk and honeysuckle. It obscured his view of the room, giving him the feeling that they were the only two people in the world.

She pressed another kiss on his chest, this one dangerously close to his nipple. Then another. Now it was his turn to beg. Or more like, babble mindlessly.

"Hermione, please..." He pleaded through gritted teeth. "Don't tease me, not now. I'm so close honey...so, so close. I feel like I'm going to explode. Just...just if we're going to do this, then I want to be inside you when I come. I want to be a part of you honey...I want to feel your heat."

Hermione's look of surprise at his vocal ministrations slowly morphed into a hungry, ravenous one. She scrambled for her wand, waving it and muttering a quick spell. A flash of light seemed to envelop her body before slowly sinking into her. Oh good. It was reassuring and at the same time somewhat disconcerting to see that their activities up to this point hadn't affected her presence of mind in any way. (He, on the other hand, was an utter mess.) Still, he couldn't help but be grateful.

With that out of the way, she rolled over onto her back while simultaneously urging him to lay down on top of her. Once he was in position, she lined his length against the weeping entrance of her body.

Their eyes met.

This was it; the moment they'd both subconsciously been waiting for. It was a moment rife with meaning; balanced on a knife's edge. They were both panting, their bodies needing...craving something more.

"Ready?" He asked solemnly. Somehow this moment felt life changing. Sacred almost.

She nodded mutely, seeming to hold her breath. So it wasn't just him. She felt it too.

Unable to wait even a moment longer, he surged inside her body. And promptly forgot how to breathe.

Moist, wet heat - all consuming, encompassing. A mind numbing pleasure so intense, he nearly blacked out. Being inside her was the best feeling he'd ever experienced. Having never had a family before he'd never known what it was like to belong somewhere...to have a home. But this, being with Hermione like this - he couldn't help but feel like he'd finally found a place that was his own; that he was finally home.

He opened his eyes - staring at her in wonder. But it was momentary. She seemed to be holding herself very still; her eyes screwed shut in a wince.

Bollocks! He'd clearly messed up.

"Hermione…?" He urged hesitantly. "Are you alright?"

"Ye...yes." She responded. "I...Just don't move. Give me a minute. And don't you dare blame yourself. This is the first time I'm doing this. And it's supposed to hurt, the first time. I'll be better in a moment. My body just has to adjust - at least that's what the book said."

He wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly. "You...you read a book about this?"

Her eyes flew open. "Of course," She stated indignantly. "How else was I supposed to know what to expect, what to do…It's not like there's a wizarding version of a muggle sex-ed class. I...I mean, my mum explained all the basics to me a long time back." She blushed. "But of course she didn't talk about any specifics. And the Magical world is even worse. Mum's here are clearly rubbish at it, too old fashioned, I reckon. Ginny's been trying to ask me about... 'it' all year long." She finally seemed to realize that she'd been rambling on. While they were having sex. While Harry was inside her. All of a sudden she shut her mouth.

At any other time, in a different set of circumstances, he would've teased her about it mercilessly. Only Hermione could prattle on about something like this in the middle of something so intimate. But right now he couldn't bring himself to make fun of her. He found himself feeling a strange cocktail of protectiveness and tenderness and affection which was all tangled up in lust. And yet, lust overpowered all other emotions - at least temporarily.

"Alright?" He gasped, barely managing to hold onto his instincts which were screaming at him to move...to thrust inside her until he'd finally achieved his pleasure. Through sheer force of will, he managed to rein it in. He would never ever do anything to hurt her. He'd rather die first.

She nodded. "Better now. You...you can move if you want to."

And still he hesitated. "You sure?"

"Uh huh."

Shuddering with relief, he tentatively thrust his hips forward. Bloody hell! How could anything feel so bloody perfect?

She moaned; thrusting back; seemingly echoing his sentiments. "Tha...that's much better." She panted.

Okay, good. At least she didn't seem to be in pain anymore. He moved again, unable to stay still. And again. He never wanted this encounter to end...and yet, it felt so good, he knew it couldn't last much longer.

He rotated his hips experimentally.

"Ooooh...Harry," She moaned. It was clear she liked it. So he did it again.

Harry was close - closer than he would've liked to be - but he was determined to make her come once again before he let go. After all, there was no way he was going to miss this chance (after all, it might be the only one he'd get) to feel her orgasm while he was inside her.

In desperation, he reached down, his thumb flicking over her hidden nub once again. "Come for me Hermione," He commanded through gritted teeth.

Whether it was because of his actions or his demand, her reaction was instantaneous. "Haaaaarrrry!" She shattered all around him, kneeing loudly.

Her scream, followed by the sensation of her body milking him - it was all too much. He came with such an explosive force he could've sworn he saw stars. He collapsed on top of her, panting, completely spent.

She was in no better shape. He could hear her heart - it was galloping at a mile a minute. Finally, after what felt like forever, her eyes opened; a shy, self-conscious smile gracing her lips. "Oh Merlin, Harry, that was…incredible! I can't believe you thought you were bad at this stuff."

He blushed, his entire body going red. Bollocks!

He didn't know what to say. Should he say thank you? He was definitely more than a little in awe of what they'd done...what she'd let him do to her. But no, that would be weird. Would 'you're welcome' be too cocky? Ugh! Maybe he was better off just shutting the hell up.

And that's when it hit him. Bloody hell…everything would be different now - EVERYTHING! Because what they'd just done…? It went way beyond the bounds of mere friendship.

A/N: Soooo? How'd I do? Was it tolerable? Awful? Hot? Cringeworthy? Please don't forget to let me know. And remember - no flames please. Don't like it? Then kindly move on. Thanks.