Susan had not been exaggerating. Hermione had enjoyed every second since Saturday morning. The anticipation was literally crackling at the Ravenclaws' and Hufflepuffs' house tables. Each time one of the players entered the Great Hall in their jersey, great cheers erupted from their house. Hermione quickly became infected. With her father, an ardent Fulham FC fan, she had already been to several league football matches.

The atmosphere the students created for their respective teams was on par with that of a football stadium. The older students sang rehearsed fan chants and the entire way to the Quidditch pitch was accompanied by the rhythmic beating of several drums, to which the students clapped. Just like the flying lessons, it was a welcome change from the library, both the one at Hogwarts and the one in her head.

When she had joined the other Ravenclaw first-years on one of the towers, the excitement had been palpable. The crowd exploded in cheers as the gates opened at the bottom of the pitch and the players filed into the arena like gladiators. They lined up in a circle and all pushed themselves off the ground at the same time as Madam Hooch blew her whistle.

From that point on, everything had been a blur. Players from both teams shot around on their brooms, narrowly missing the tower Hermione was standing on several times. Hermione was completely overwhelmed for the first few minutes and didn't know where to look. After some time, she decided to follow the quaffle. The game was being commented on with breathtaking passion by a Gryffindor student called Lee Jordan, who was reprimanded several times during the game by Professor McGonagall, who was sitting next to him.

Hermione was catching more and more of the game and could slowly but surely understand the explanations Susan had given her beforehand. She grimaced and turned away as one of the Hufflepuff beaters missed a Bludger that slipped under his bat, hitting him in the chest and causing him to fall off his broom from a considerable height. She felt reminded of Neville's broom ride in week one. When she turned to look again, however, she was astonished to see that the other beater had caught his teammate and set him back down on his swaying broom. The crowd in yellow and black cheered them on.

When the game ended with the Hufflepuffs cheering after a breathtaking race for the Snitch between the Seekers, Hermione also enthusiastically applauded both teams. When she found Susan after the game, she congratulated her fairly and the two high-fived.

"I told you Diggory was our new gem," Susan said with a wide grin. It was clear to Hermione from that day on that she wanted to do everything in her power to become a part of her house's Quidditch team. She enjoyed flying brooms anyway, but Quidditch was just too good not to be a part of. She was irrepressibly looking forward to the Gryffindors' match the next day. She was eager to see what Harry Potter did in his first game as a Seeker talent.

In the afternoon, she had an hour of one-to-one lessons with Professor Snape, who, after her tremendous progress in forming the mental barrier, was now practising concealing false statements with her. Hermione had been a little surprised that Professor Snape was going to help her lie, but he explained that Professor Dumbledore had instructed him to do so.

However, before she could begin the mind disguise, Hermione first had to get her facial features under control, which she found very difficult. Professor Snape was a master of the expressionless face. He explained to her that great skill was needed to disguise the truth. Hermione had sighed and thought to herself that she would probably spend the rest of the year practising lying with Snape.

The day after, Hermione learned what the opposite of fairness acted out meant. The centuries-old rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin houses reached its boiling point every year at the Quidditch match between the two houses. Students from the rival houses would hurl curses at each other when no teacher was looking. It had been no comparison to the Ravenclaw game the day before.

But Hermione, who could watch the game without pressure, enjoyed every minute of it. Harry Potter flew like a young god but was almost thrown off his broom in the middle of the game, which had sent a cold shiver down Hermione's spine. However, when he struggled back onto his broom and moments later had caught the Snitch spectacularly with his mouth, she too had exploded in an ecstatic cheer, as had the rest of the non-Slytherin school.

Later that evening, in the one-to-one lesson with Professor McGonagall, she had learned from the proud but also worried teacher that Harry's broom had been jinxed by an unknown person. It was only thanks to Professor Snape's counter-curses that he had not crashed. Hermione smiled broadly, glad that at least one member of the Slytherin house valued sport and the lives of students above house rivalry.

As she sat in the library to finish her homework after her private lesson, in which she had learned a lot again, a tired Neville suddenly dropped into a chair next to her. They talked in whispers for a while about the Quidditch game that morning.

"Well, I guess I'll keep searching," whispered Neville, who was about to stand up.

"What are you looking for?" asked Hermione, interested.

"We're trying to find out who Nicolas Flamel is. Harry's even been to the forbidden section," Neville said with an exhausted look on his face.

"You mean the Nicolas Flamel who wrote 'Alchemy at Large' with Professor Dumbledore?" asked Hermione. She rolled her eyes as Neville's eyes grew wide and he stared at her, aghast.

"Erm, possibly," he said. Apparently, he'd only heard the name so far. Shaking her head, Hermione stood up and took him to a shelf where she pulled out a heavy tome and thrust it into the stunned Neville's hand.

"Come straight to me next time, you'll save yourself breaking the rules," she said, but giggled at the overjoyed Neville, who had turned pink at her comment regarding the school rules. He thanked her and scurried off to look in the book for Nicolas Flamel. Hermione wondered what they were going to do with him anyway. After all, there was documentation of his work that spanned six hundred years.

At the end of November, Professor Dumbledore had sent her an invitation to the next one-to-one class, which made Hermione do a little jump in the air. Just over a month had passed since her first lesson with him. Either the Headmaster had been very busy, or he had taken time to analyse Hermione's abilities in his memory. Or perhaps it was a combination of both.

"Good evening, Hermione," said a somewhat exhausted-looking Dumbledore as Hermione entered his office. He also greeted Lancelot, who had taken a seat on her shoulder again. "As I'm sure you've noticed, it's been over a month since our last meeting. This is mainly due to the plethora of appointments I have had recently. You can't imagine all the paperwork that a troll in a toilet will unleash," he said, smirking slightly into his white beard. Hermione giggled.

Again, Dumbledore had set up the Pensieve and picked out another lesson from Freud for her. He had been a little surprised that she didn't want to see the last memory again, but Hermione just smiled broadly at him and didn't tell him about her mental Pensieve. This memory was also about expanding the mind and exploring one's own visual manifestation of it. Hermione picked up a few helpful tips and resolved to apply them immediately in the next trance.

"Now for the exciting part," Dumbledore said solemnly as they lined up opposite each other as they had done in the previous lesson. "This time you will read my emotions and I will try to analyse this further," he said solemnly. He looked like a child, a day before his birthday. Hermione nodded and at his signal, she began reading Dumbledore's emotions. Immediately, Dumbledore cast 'Specialis Revelio' again and then muttered a few more incantations as well. Occasionally he would emit a sound of surprise, but Hermione couldn't make out exactly what he was doing. She could sense his thirst for knowledge and occasional delight. It always happened when he looked surprised.

"That will do for now," he said after about two minutes. "Do you have some energy left to try again after a short break?" asked Dumbledore. Hermione nodded but realised that it would have to be this second attempt, as she was already relatively tired again. Maintaining the connection for so long was very exhausting.

"I am certain by now that this ability, or rather abilities if you look at the other strands, are unique, Hermione," Dumbledore said, conjuring up one of his comfortable chintz armchairs for her. Hermione looked at him questioningly, not knowing what he meant by 'unique'. "It means that I can't acquire your ability. And believe me, I've tried every spare second for the last month," Dumbledore said, winking at her. Hermione looked at Dumbledore with her mouth agape. "Without wanting to sound self-praising, I would argue that my failure makes your ability your own," Dumbledore added.

Hermione reflected on that. If the greatest wizard of their century couldn't replicate the abilities of a first-year, it had to be true. But how could that be? She had learned the skill after she had expanded her mind. "Wait a minute!" she thought, remembering the moment she had first sensed Lancelot's feelings. It had been after the appearance of the Elder. Hermione tried not to reveal her realisation to her features.

"So you're saying that only I can do this?" she asked something she already understood to distract from her realisation.

"That's my theory, yes," said Dumbledore, who didn't seem to have noticed anything.

After a few minutes of thoughtful silence, during which they were both preoccupied with themselves, Hermione stood up and informed Dumbledore that she was ready. The latter nodded and summoned a perch for Lancelot, who took a seat on it, crowing cheerfully. Hermione read his emotions and Dumbledore visualised the magic streams first before scurrying around them as he had done at the first lesson.

"Do not concentrate on his feelings. Can you perceive anything else? Even if it only seems like the tiniest silver lining?", Dumbledore instructed her.

Hermione closed her eyes. She tried to ignore Lancelot's feelings. The connection persisted and she could feel something. It felt like there were ropes stretched between her and Lancelot, one of which was oscillating and vibrating loudly. She tried to get a grip on the other ropes. Dumbledore let out a small whoop, which surprised Hermione enough to break the connection.

"What happened?" she asked in surprise. Dumbledore looked a little crestfallen. It was obvious that he hadn't been able to hold back the surprised sound.

"Well, breaking your concentration wasn't my intention, but I think we've made a minor breakthrough," he said and Hermione thought she saw a slight pink in his cheeks through his white beard. When she had taken her seat in front of his desk again, Dumbledore told her what had prompted him to cry out. "You noticed your other abilities, didn't you?" he asked her, with an irrepressible urge to explore in his eyes.

Hermione nodded and Dumbledore elaborated on what he had observed. "The threads of yellow and blue haze, which were barely visible before, flared up and became denser. Then I'm afraid I interrupted you," he said with an apologetic look that made Hermione giggle. Hermione told him about the rope-like visualisations in her mind. Dumbledore nodded eagerly. "I think we can intensify one of the other threads next time," Dumbledore said and Hermione knew that was the end of the lesson.

In December, Hermione often visited Hagrid. In his warm hut, Hermione could unwind while Hagrid told her about magical creatures or about his own short school career at Hogwarts. The visits relaxed her a lot and gave her energy for the one-on-one lessons, which were becoming more and more demanding.

Professor McGonagall was particularly ambitious to make Hermione her best student ever. More and more often she told Hermione how envious she was of Professor Flitwick to have such a talented student in his house. Lancelot was allowed to stay with her in the dormitory that winter, on Professor Dumbledore's permission, after it had become too cold for him as a not-yet-grown raven on the castle grounds. However, she let him out every day so that he could enjoy the fresh air and not get too used to life in the castle.

Hermione still forced herself, when it wasn't so cold that her eyelashes froze, to go a few rounds on one of the school brooms every day. After all, if she was going to play Quidditch, she had to be able to cope in such weather conditions. Professor Flitwick had shown her the heating sphere in a private lesson when she asked if there was a spell to warm herself. This made the practice flights much more enjoyable.

The time passed quickly as there was not much exciting going on apart from the lessons. She spent most of her time away from class in the library, which gave her a homely feeling. The common room was also cosy, but after a few conversations with her classmates, she had realised early on that she would develop a much deeper friendship with Susan and Neville. So she sat in the library most days, literally soaking up the treasures therein, which made her mental library grow.

Professor Dumbledore had too much on his plate before the Christmas holidays to hold the next one-to-one lesson this year. Hermione was a little sad because she hadn't managed to access her other abilities since the last lesson. Apparently, Dumbledore had been helping her with his spells. For better or worse, she would have to wait until the next lesson.

Just before the holidays, she had received a letter from her parents, informing her that they were flying Hermione to the French Alps for a winter holiday. Hermione was very happy to be able to spend time with her parents. However, she had also had to leave Lancelot behind at Hogwarts because of the holiday. Hagrid had agreed to look after him over the holidays, for which Hermione was very grateful. She had already missed her raven on the Hogwarts Express to London, whom she now perceived as a part of herself.

It felt good to come home after four months, even if she already missed her friends and teachers. London at Christmas time was very busy, but she knew the right corners to do some relaxed gift shopping. For her mother, she picked out some bath ingredients and a beautiful lantern that she thought would fit well in the living room. For her father, she got all sorts of gadgets and bits and bobs from the Fulham FC fan shop.

It turned out to be a very nice and cosy Christmas. Hermione was given a complete set of skiing equipment by her parents on the occasion of the upcoming holiday. She enjoyed her mother's hearty meals on the occasion of Christmas and was already looking forward to going to the mountains with her parents. She had only been to the Alps once as a child and could hardly remember it.

Two days after Christmas, Hermione was standing in front of a small mountain cottage at an altitude of about 1500m, a suitcase beside her, which she had laboriously dragged through the snow from the middle station of the lift. The cosy guesthouse had just three bedrooms, of which the Grangers had booked two. Hermione settled into her spacious room and threw herself happily onto the bed.

Spending almost two weeks in her old world again, without magic, seemed just right. Even though she had been only too happy to give up much of her old life for Hogwarts, she enjoyed being able to be a part of both worlds. She had brought her Blotts Book with her, but only wanted to open it in case of absolute boredom.

For the first three days of the holiday, her father taught her to ski. As he had relatives in Austria whom he had visited every winter in his youth, he was a good skier. Hermione's mother was his second apprentice. She was a little more anxious than Hermione and didn't want to leave the blue slopes, but seemed comfortable there.

Hermione had skied the valley run from the top station with her father on the third day, which had been enormous fun. Another couple had moved into their guesthouse. Hermione didn't know how old they were, as she only ever saw the shoes and snowshoes outside their room door, which they were setting out to dry. They seemed to be climbers or snowshoe hikers, as Hermione hadn't seen skis.

It was the fourth day at the cottage when she first saw them. Hermione came into the guesthouse with her face flushed from the cold and was about to take off her ski boots when a friendly voice from the communal kitchen greeted her in French. A young couple was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of cocoa. Hermione greeted back with the few words of French she spoke.

Hermione had returned to the hut alone because her father wanted to do some steeper runs and her mother had preferred to spend the day in Nice, which was not far away. When Hermione had taken off her ski boots and changed, she too made herself some cocoa in the kitchen and struck up a conversation with the couple.

Both of them came from Amiens and were studying linguistics at Oxford, which Hermione quickly noticed when they both switched effortlessly to almost accent-free English. They were very nice and told her that they came to the Alps every year to go snowshoe hiking. They asked Hermione if she would like to join them for an easy hike and Hermione nodded enthusiastically.

Hermione didn't have snowshoes, but Amelie organised rental snowshoes for her from the valley the next day. She was a petite but athletic young woman who Hermione guessed to be in her early twenties. Hermione's parents also thought they were very nice and allowed their daughter to hike as long as they followed a marked route and did not go into deep snow. The couple had assured her parents that they would bring Hermione back without a scratch.

Philippe, Amelie's boyfriend, was the more experienced of the two and always walked a little ahead to make sure the path was passable. He had chosen the route the two of them had hiked to acclimatise on the first day so as not to overwhelm Hermione. Hermione loved how much the two of them cared for her. When Hermione arrived at the summit cross, which was the destination of their ascent, they high-fived her one after the other and praised her perseverance.

Hermione had kept up well with them, but she attributed that to the easy route, not to her fitness. The three of them took a short break at the summit. Hermione tried some coffee from Philippe's thermos but made a face, whereupon the other two laughed. On the descent, the weather had become a little more unsettled. A cloud released thick snowflakes onto the slope the three zigzagged down. Hermione was glad of her magic glasses, which didn't fog up in the weather.

It took them a little longer to get back to the hut because of the fresh snow. After they had put down their snowshoes, they arranged to play some board games in the kitchen after they had freshened up. Hermione settled into her bath with a sigh. She enjoyed the luxury of having her own room on holiday, having grown accustomed to the perks of having her own bedroom and bathroom at Hogwarts. In her parents' house, there was only one bathroom, which the Grangers had to share.

The warm water relaxed her muscles, which had burned a little at the end of the tour. She took her time bathing because the play date was not for another hour. She got out of the bath, folded a towel around her wet hair and also wrapped a large towel around her body to make herself cocoa in the kitchen.

As she passed the level of Amelie and Philippe's bedroom on her way to the kitchen, she heard something that made her face turn very red. From the small crack in the door, from which some light filtered into the gloomy hallway where Hermione stood, came the voices of the two of them, moaning softly in French. Hermione hadn't fallen on her head, she could interpret the voices filled with lust. Rooted to the spot, she stood beside the door and heard the two moaning louder and a soft, rhythmic clash of bare skin.

Hermione's head throbbed at the masses of blood that had by now collected in her face. Since the two of them had apparently not closed the door properly, Hermione could clearly hear more than either of them might have liked. They continued to speak to each other moaning in French. Hermione felt the soft fabric of the towel against her breasts as her nipples stiffened. She also felt a definite tingling in her lower body and began to tremble a little.

She was about to sneak back into her room when she heard Amelie through the crack of the door, whispering 'Je t'aime' lovingly to Philippe. Hermione inhaled sharply and dared a glance through the crack between the door and the doorframe. In the small section of the room she could see, she made out their double bed and Amelie's bum bobbing up and down in front of her.

Hermione just managed to prevent a gasp and tore her gaze away from the joined couple after a few seconds. As quietly as she could, she opened her bedroom door and closed it just as quietly behind her. She paused briefly to check if she could still hear them. Very muffled, she could still hear them, which made her breathe a sigh of relief. They hadn't noticed anything.

Hermione's body was filled with a tingling sensation, something she had never felt so strongly. She didn't think about it but followed her body's signals. It begged for her to give release to her own lust that had been building while she had watched and listened to them.

She threw off her towel and sat down on her double bed, leaning her back against the wall. She closed her eyes and let her hands wander over her body. Her hips trembled and demanded her hand. Hermione didn't know exactly what she was doing, but she was quickly learning what felt good. She gasped as her whole body was shaken and a new tingling sensation spread through her body and even her face. Her first climax had been brief, but Hermione was still sitting in her bed minutes later, caressing her sensitive skin.

When she walked into the kitchen half an hour later, it took all her willpower and experience from her lessons with Professor Snape to keep her face from turning red as she looked them in the eye. Amelie and Philippe looked exactly how she felt. Relaxed and content. They were playing Scrabble and a French game unknown to Hermione, which the two explained to her without further ado.

They were having a great time and Hermione's parents joined in as they gradually made their way into the cottage. That night, as Hermione filed the memory of her climax and all that had preceded it into the Pensieve in a trance, she became curious once more and dipped her head in to look through the crack in the door once more before the Hermione in memory did.

Being able to inspect the room in the third person, she was able to peek through the door much earlier than before. She felt a little naughty watching two people having sex, but she just had to do it. Earlier she had been so excited that she had only caught a fraction of what was going on behind the door. The two of them were a really beautiful couple. Again Hermione saw Amelie riding her boyfriend.

Third-person Hermione was able to peer through the crack for considerably longer than memory Hermione could in the afternoon. As a result, this time she caught Amelie turning and now riding her boyfriend while holding his shins. Her eyes grew wide at all these new and exciting impressions. She had talked about sex with her parents and at Muggle school, of course, though it had never become as detailed as she could observe now. Then she was pulled into Hermione's bedroom because the memory Hermione had closed the door behind her.

She was about to leave the memory when the memory Hermione just ripped off her towel and sat down shivering on the bed with her eyes closed. As if glued to the floor, she stood there watching herself overcome by her newfound lust. It looked a little awkward, but she knew how good it had felt at that moment. It seemed at the same time strange and completely normal to watch herself pleasuring herself.

The next morning she decided to take a day off and not go hiking or skiing. She told her parents and then went back up to her room where she read the Daily Prophet a little in the Blotts Book. There was no exciting news, however, so she decided to read a little in Transfiguration Today.

But again and again, her thoughts were haunted by her memory. Hermione smiled repeatedly at the thought of the blissful feeling that had spread through her body. As time passed, it grew increasingly moist between her legs.

"What is going on with me?" she wondered aloud. She shook her head as if to shoo away mosquitoes and decided to take a bath. As she looked down at herself in the bathtub, she wondered if she would look anything like Amelie by the end of her puberty. What she knew was that she wanted to. Amelie had beautiful proportions and an athletic body. Hermione had no problems with her own body, she was just still developing.

Even though she knew by now that she was one of the students who were already more developed for her age than most of the other students in her year. This also applied to her mind, of course, but Hermione noticed the glances of her classmates and also of the students a few years above her. Susan was a bit further along in her physical development and showed it to some extent.

Hermione had observed her always placing her school robe in such a way that her breasts showed in the best possible way. Susan knew perfectly how to present herself. She had also already had her first kiss with an older student. Hermione admired her open and confident manner. While she was thinking about all this, her hand had gone wandering and found its target. Pleasant shivers ran through her body and she thought back to Amelie and Philippe.

It was not so much the sight of the two of them having sex that excited her so much. It was the lustful, whispered words they had exchanged. Hermione closed her eyes and enjoyed every second of slowly getting closer to the edge. It felt like she was being carried by a wave to the beach. Again, a pleasant tingling sensation ran through her from her lower body and she twitched slightly. Her face felt numb, but in a good way, as it had the day before.

She relaxed a little more in the bath before getting out and drying herself off. Posing in front of the large mirror, she grinned, clasped her breasts with her hands and flashed a kissy mouth at her reflection. Then she burst out laughing and went to her wardrobe to get dressed.

Since all the residents of the cottage had flown out, Hermione sat down in the communal living room with her Blotts Book, where she tried to light the fireplace with her index finger. However, when she still couldn't succeed after several attempts, even though she had mastered the spell perfectly with her wand, she reached for the matches by the fireplace and lit the wood by hand.

Happily, she snuggled into the blanket that lay on the couch and opened the book. She browsed a little through the list of available books she could order through the Blotts Club. She couldn't send the form from the cottage, but she liked looking through the catalogue, always on the lookout for new reading.

She made a mental note of several books she wanted to order when she got back to Hogwarts. She was about to slam the book shut when her eyes caught on a book title. 'The Modern Witch - Personal Hygiene from Head to Toe'. Hermione grinned.

The book was probably from the Middle Ages and contained recipes for tinctures that grew warts on the nose. Hermione laughed out loud at the idea and tapped the title with her Flourish Quill. It was however a book written by a young witch called Emily Clearwater, which had only been published two years ago, Hermione could see from the summary page in the order form. Hermione raised her eyebrows. After the holidays, she would ask her prefect if she was related to the author. Now clearly more interested, Hermione also made a mental note of this book.

When she awoke from a nap on the couch in the afternoon, Amelie and Philippe had just returned from their hike. She smiled at them both and called after Amelie, who was already halfway up the stairs and turned around.

"I - was wondering if you could show me how you braid your plaits?" asked Hermione shyly. Amelie beamed at her and promised to come down after her bath. After about half an hour, the two sat across from each other on the couch.

"You have a lot of hair, you can do wide braids," said Amelie, who had unknotted her braids to show Hermione from the beginning. Hermione had already gained experience with braiding in the kindergarten but had managed it better with the other girls than with herself.

Amelie showed her how to do it better without a mirror. Hermione didn't get braids as nice as Amelie's, but that didn't bother her at the moment. She now had a memory that she could look at again and again as a lesson. At the end, Amelie had braided her a beautiful Dutch braid.

"Would you like to come hiking with us again tomorrow? It's our last day," Amelie asked as she and Hermione stood outside their rooms. Hermione beamed and nodded. They said their goodbyes and Hermione changed to head down to the valley where she had agreed to meet her parents for dinner. As Hermione sat in the cable car heading for the valley, she thought with a grin about what Amelie and Philippe were probably doing all alone in the cottage.

"They certainly won't get bored. God, what is wrong with me?" she wondered aloud in the empty gondola. As she sat down at the table with her parents in the small restaurant, her mother complimented her beautiful hairstyle with a smile.

The next day, at Hermione's request, Amelie and Philippe walked a more challenging route with her. When they reached the summit, Hermione dropped exhausted onto the bench that she had cleared of snow earlier. She had taken precautions this time and brought herself cocoa in a thermos flask. She happily let her eyes wander over the snow-covered mountains and valleys.

Amelie and Philippe sat next to her on the bench and held hands while they shared the mug of coffee. Their descent went better this time as the weather remained fine and Hermione was able to enjoy the view as she trudged through the snow on her snowshoes. The three of them arrived back at their cottage at noon and ate some sandwiches together before the two of them adjourned to their room and Hermione also wanted to take a bath.

After her bath, Hermione sat down on her bed in a towel and practised one of the plait hairstyles that Amelie had shown her the day before. Suddenly the silence of the cottage was disturbed and Hermione heard noises she knew. The wall she was leaning against was directly adjacent to the couple's bedroom. Hermione heard the muffled moans of Amelie. She tried not to pay attention and finish braiding her hair, but she couldn't hold her concentration for long. She could feel it getting warmer in the middle of her body.

As she had also secretly hoped a little to listen to Amelie's lustful moans once more, she stood up. She didn't know exactly why, but she wanted to see if she could risk another peek. Sure enough, the door was open a crack again. Hermione wondered if they were intent on being watched or overheard, or if the door was broken. She risked a glance and her eyes widened. On the bed lay Amelie, moaning lustily and clutching Philippe's head with her thighs. To see a little more, she opened the door a millimetre more. With her index finger, she pointed at the door hinges and cast a Silencio on them.

The very last thing she wanted was to be caught by them. Hermione didn't recognise herself and exhaled briefly through her nose in amusement. Shocked at the relatively loud noise, she held her breath, not taking her eyes off Amelie. A few seconds later she relaxed, for Amelie seemed not to have noticed anything. For good measure, she also cast a Silencio on herself to prevent any noise.

The knowledge that she could not be heard anymore flipped a switch within Hermione. She felt it grow even wetter between her legs and as if of its own accord, her hand wandered there. She moaned silently as she watched Amelie mount her boyfriend to ride him. She let her fingers slide faster and faster. In a brief moment of shock, she thought Amelie had spotted her and looked her straight in the eye, but the next moment she had her eyes closed. She seemed unaware of Hermione's presence.

Hermione's pace increased as Amelie's breathing quickened too. She watched as Amelie let herself fall on top of Philippe again and again, now also pleasuring herself as Hermione did. Hermione moaned exuberantly, but still, no sound came out of her. As she was about to reach her climax, she was suddenly hit by a wave of orgasm that was not her own. She immediately understood that she had unconsciously invaded Amelie's emotions.

That seemed to have been the last drop Hermione's barrel needed to overflow. Her own climax merged with Amelie's and Hermione's eyes went black for a moment. Silently she gasped and shook violently. When she was able to think again, she turned her eyes to the room, startled.

Amelie had crawled up to Philippe and rested her head on his chest. Hermione took a deep breath and retreated back to her room, putting a Silencio on her own door for good measure. In the next room, Amelie snuggled up to Philippe.

"Do you think anyone will ever actually watch us when we do it?" she asked him in a whisper. "I sure hope so," he replied.

"Do you think Hermione was watching us?" asked Amelie with a mischievous grin.

"Don't be silly," her friend replied.

"I would have," said Amelie, drawing little sinuous lines on Philippe's chest with her index finger.

"I know you would have," he replied, pulling her up to him for a heartfelt kiss.

The next day the young couple departed. Amelie had invited Hermione to show her around Oxford sometime when she was in the area and had given Hermione her address. She had hugged them both tightly and assured them she would write to them. The days after, Hermione went skiing again with her parents.

She realised how much the presence of the young couple had affected her lust, for she seemed to develop a little more into the Hermione she had been at the beginning of the holidays in the presence of her parents. However, she often thought back to the orgasm she had shared with Amelie, even if she had not been aware of it.

As she sat back on the Hogwarts Express at the end of the holidays, her anticipation grew for the one-to-one lessons with Professor Dumbledore and she eagerly awaited the reunion with Lancelot. She was reading the Daily Prophet when the compartment door slid open and a familiar voice greeted her.

"Hi Hermione!" exclaimed Susan, dropping into the seat opposite her.

"Hi Susan, how was your holiday? I didn't see you on the train to London at all before Christmas," Hermione replied, putting the Blotts Book aside.

"I've only been at my aunt's for the last week. My parents had so much on their plate at the Ministry that I would have been alone all day anyway. You wouldn't believe what I got for Christmas!" she said excitedly.

"Now tell me!" exclaimed Hermione, when Susan, however, didn't tell her straight away but just put on a mischievous grin.

"You have to guess," she said and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"It's long and thick. And you can ride it."

"Susan!" exclaimed Hermione with a laugh, but was so taken aback by this clear ambiguity that she turned scarlet.

"I knew you wouldn't think of a broom first, you little slut," Susan said teasingly, turning a little pink around the nose herself.

"Don't be silly, you got a broom?" asked Hermione, trying to distract from her still red head.

"Yes, but now that I think about it - what you thought of would have been good too," Susan said, apparently savouring having embarrassed Hermione.

"What kind of broom is it?" asked Hermione insistingly, trying to get the blood out of her head.

"A Cleansweep Five!" exclaimed Susan.

"Oh! How does that compare to the Nimbus 2000?" asked Hermione, who was still not really familiar with the various broom manufacturers and models.

"It doesn't come close to that one, the Nimbus is the best on the market, but the Cleansweep is really fast and reliable. Above all, it has better cornering than the Comets," Susan explained, talking about how she had caught a cold at Christmas from flying over the Quidditch pitch all day. Hermione took it upon herself to teach her the heat sphere when she got the chance.

They had spent the rest of the journey making plans on how they were going to spend the rest of the school year practising for next year's Quidditch tryouts. Hermione had offered to teach Susan a few helpful spells or help her with her homework if she was allowed to use the broom a few times. They were both very happy about the arrangement, as Susan was a little behind in transfiguration and charms, but had big shoes to fill, as she told Hermione.

Her aunt was the Head of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry of Magic and probably expected a lot from Susan. Her parents also had higher positions in the Ministry. When the Hogwarts Express arrived in Hogsmeade, they drove to the gate of the castle grounds in carriages that moved by themselves without horses.

Hermione said goodbye and waded through the knee-high snow to Hagrid's hut, smoke rising in little curls from its chimney. Overjoyed, she stroked Lancelot, who was as happy as a dog, jumping and flapping from one corner of the hut to the other.

"He didn't cause any trouble, the little rascal. He and Fang played a lot. Fang's really blossomed, never thought I'd see him run again!" Hagrid explained happily. He offered to look after Lancelot whenever she wanted from now on. Hermione thanked Hagrid from the bottom of her heart and also thanked him for the cauldron cakes she had received from him for Christmas.

"Are you ready for a postal assignment? Or should I send an owl so you can stay with me for now?" asked Hermione to Lancelot as she walked with him to the portal. At the mention of the owl, the raven crowed reproachfully and raised his beak in the air indignantly. "That's what I thought!" cried Hermione, giggling.

Author's Note:

I hope all of you are well and that you like it! First time the story earns its rating, I guess =)

If you liked it, I would be happy to read a few lines from you. Also thank you to all the people that already reviewed, it really means a lot!

I have now caught up to my current state on AO3, which means the update schedule from now will be 3-4 weeks. Until then!

Kasing