CW: Discussion of teenage sexuality

"I need help," Hermione told Tracey one morning. "Desperately. Badly. Immediately. You must help me."

Tracey was immediately on high alert. "What is it?"

Hermione lowered her voice, secretive.

"Cedric has invited me on—a date, sort of?—tonight in the Divination tower. He's going to get dinner from the House Elves and whatnot, but Tracey…" Her voice lowered even further. "I'm fairly sure all he really wants to do is snog."

Tracey started laughing.

"And what part do you need help with?" she asked, eyes dancing. "What to wear? How to wear your hair so it won't get tangled with his hands in it?"

"Tracey!" Hermione hissed. Her eyes darted around. "It's—I've never had a date where it was like this before. I'm nervous."

Tracey's eyes softened.

"Alright," she said. "We'll talk about it after classes."

After classes, Tracey and Millie sat with Hermione in their dorm as she fretted. Tracey was watching Hermione while Millie was busy entertaining Crookshanks, who was purring in satisfaction – Millie had fast established herself as the half-Kneazle's favorite of Hermione's dormmates.

"—and I agreed, because I thought 'why not?', but now I'm nervous," Hermione said rapidly. "I don't understand. I mean, I've had dates before where all we did was hang out together and kiss, but there wasn't this weird sense of pressure I feel with Cedric now—"

"Hang on a moment," Millie said, cutting in. "You've had dates where all you did was snog?"

"Umm," Hermione said. "Yes. Kind of."

"What do you mean 'kind of'?" Millie challenged.

"Well, they weren't exactly dates," Hermione hedged. "We were just… it was France, and we were just kind of spending every day together, nothing really planned or organized. So it was more laid back, and we went where the day took us – and if that was snogging on the beach at sunset, so be it."

"That sounds so romantic," Tracey sighed. Her eyes were dreamy. "Maybe I should learn French and find a fit boy from Beauxbatons to chat me up myself."

"So there were no expectations," Millie summarized, nodding. "That makes sense. With no expectations, you could just do what you felt like. But now, knowing he expects to snog, it puts you in a bit of a weird place."

"How's it different?" Tracey asked, looking at Millie. "It's not like she doesn't want to snog him."

"But now she feels like she's obligated to, right?" Millie said, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," Hermione said, relieved. "That's it exactly."

"Oh – like it takes away the spontaneity and the romance?" Tracey asked. "Or is it more that if you didn't want to kiss him, you wouldn't feel like you could tell him that?"

"I'm sure if I didn't want to kiss him, Cedric would be perfectly polite and respectful of that," Hermione said. "I just… I think he'd want an explanation as to why, and his feelings might be hurt."

Tracey rolled her eyes, and even Crookshanks huffed in agreement.

"Merlin spare me from guys who need girls to help them figure out their feelings," she groaned. "Can't they do it on their own?"

"On one hand, that's reasonable. It makes sense to wonder why something different happened – if you expected one outcome, and you got another, you'd want to know why too," Millie pointed out. "But on the other hand – he is not responsible for your feelings. If you don't want to kiss him, it's not about him, it's about you."

Tracey snickered.

"Yes, but you expect a guy to understand that?" she said. "Guys make everything about themselves."

Millie gave a beleaguered sigh. "Isn't that the truth."

The girls gave Hermione advice on what robe to wear. Tracey's suggestion was something linen and heavy that wouldn't wrinkle easily, while Millie suggested heavy velvet with a high neckline so Cedric wouldn't be able to get his hands down her top.

"Not that I think he'd try," Hermione said, her face flaming red while Tracey laughed and laughed, "but wouldn't he just unbutton the front of it and slip his hand in anyway?"

"You'd think that," Tracey said, amused. "Guys are stupid, though. There's something they like about tugging down the neckline so your breasts pop out the top."

Hermione turned to Tracey in surprise while Millie snorted.

"How do you know that?" she asked, surprised. "I thought all you and Adrian got up to was heavy kissing."

Tracey flushed.

"Well, we got carried away once recently," she defended hotly. "He pulled me into an alcove behind a wall hanging for a bit of a snog, and when he was running his hands up my sides, he realized I wasn't wearing stays."

"You weren't wearing stays?" Millie said, surprised. "Why not?"

"I don't exactly need them," Tracey shot back. "Not all of us are as blessed in that department as you are."

Millie made a face. "I'd trade you in a second if I could."

"Anyway," Tracey said pointedly. "Once he realized I wasn't wearing stays and he could get at my breasts directly, he became almost ravenous, and he simply had to see them."

"And you let him?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide.

"Well, I was a bit caught up in it too," Tracey defended. A slow grin spread on her face. "I didn't think I'd like it, but… there was something about the expression on his face that made me feel powerful."

"What was his expression like?" Millie asked. "He didn't just leer at them?"

"No," Tracey said. "It was like… like I was made of gold or something. Like I was a goddess, or the most beautiful woman on earth."

There was a pause, as the girls all contemplated that idea.

Hermione looked at Tracey, who was lost in her memory, a fond look in her eye. She was glad Tracey was still getting along with Adrian; even though she hadn't expected much, Tracey still seemed to like seeing him fairly often.

"You have your potion around still, right?" Hermione teased. "The ones we took from class?"

Tracey's head whipped around to give her a dark look, while Millie laughed.

"I do," Tracey said hotly. "I have it, but I don't need to take it! A bit of a grope and tug isn't going to—"

"I was teasing, I was teasing," Hermione said, laughing.

Tracey folded her arms and huffed.

Hermione felt a little better after chatting with her friends. When they parted ways to go to dinner – them to the Great Hall, her up to the Divination landing – they wished her luck, mischief sparkling in their eyes. She could feel them watching her as she ascended the staircases toward the Divination classroom, and she felt very adult suddenly, her heavy robes weighing her down as she climbed up.

Well, Hermione thought, hiking up her robes as she climbed, at least she looked good, even if the robes were a bit much.

Cedric was already on the Divination landing when Hermione arrived, setting up blankets and pillows, and he gave her a wide smile when he saw her, clearly happy to see her.

"I borrowed these from Trelawney's classroom," he said. "I don't think she'll mind, so long as we don't get food on them."

Hermione laughed. "I'll eat neatly."

The basket Cedric had gotten from the House Elves was a variety of different finger foods, which Hermione appreciated immensely – balancing a plate or bowl on her lap would have been a more difficult feat. Instead, it was a loose, casual atmosphere as she and Cedric chatted.

"Professor Sprout had to talk to the younger years again," Cedric said, chuckling. "They got wind that your letter-writing campaign to the Board of Governors about the boggart worked, and they became more convinced than ever that they should write letters to the International Confederation of Wizards about the dangers of muggle weapons of mass destruction."

"Oh good lord," Hermione laughed, highly amused. "Are they still on about that?"

"Do the muggles still have the terrible weapons?" Cedric asked, quirking an eyebrow. "Then 'yes'."

"The muggles have had those weapons for ages," Hermione said, exasperated. "It's been a danger for decades."

"Doesn't mean it's not still a danger," Cedric pointed out. "It's bad enough that it manifested as your boggart."

"Fair," Hermione admitted. "Ever since we studied World War II in muggle school, I was anxious over the idea of nuclear war – since I was far too young to worry about it, really." She hummed. "I don't think that'd be my boggart now, though."

"Really?" Cedric's eyebrows went up. "You think it's changed?"

"Yes," Hermione said.

"Into what?"

The memory of a cold, chilling emptiness clutched at her throat, and Hermione found it hard to swallow her sandwich.

"A dementor," she said finally, her voice a bit quiet. "I think it'd be a dementor, now, with its hood down."

Cedric looked puzzled.

"You'd experienced dementors before, though," he said. "On the train. Your fear didn't show up as dementors then, though."

"That was before I learned what the Dementor's Kiss was, though," Hermione said darkly. "Once I knew that they could suck out your soul, they became way, way worse."

Hermione glanced over at her companion. She was expecting shock or horror from Cedric, or confusion and puzzlement if she needed to explain what the Dementor's Kiss was to him.

She wasn't expecting him to grimace and move on.

"Yeah, that's a bit of a grim business," he said, wincing. He gave her a commiserating smile. "Still. They don't do it very often, you know. Only in the very worst cases with the worst irredeemable criminals."

Hermione stared. "You know about this?"

"My father's in the Ministry," Cedric pointed out.

"I thought he worked in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures," Hermione said, appalled. "What, are they sucking the souls out of misbehaving animals now, too?"

Cedric laughed.

"No, no, nothing like that," he said, amused. "It's just – grown-ups gossip too, you know? He's got friends in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. People talk."

"And he tells you about it?" Hermione said, shocked. "He tells you when they've condemned someone to have their soul sucked out, and you just go on with your day?"

"Hey, Hermione." Cedric took her hand, squeezing it. He looked at her with understanding eyes. "I know it's a scary thing to think about. But it's very rare, and the dementors only do it in the very worst cases, when someone's so bad they deserve worse than Azkaban. Generally, only someone who's already escaped Azkaban, really."

"Doesn't that frighten you?" Hermione insisted. "What if they went after you?"

Cedric laughed.

"Well, as I have no intention of becoming a terrible criminal, I don't think I have to worry about that," he said, grinning. He gave her a smile. "I know dementors are frightening, Hermione, but they're under the Ministry's control. You don't have to worry about them."

Hermione stared at him for a long moment while Cedric rummaged in the basket for another sandwich.

"We didn't get to do boggarts in my 3rd year class," he commented, digging through the basket. "We had Quirrell. Totally useless teacher. I wonder what I would have seen?"

"What do you think you would have seen?" Hermione asked numbly.

Cedric hummed, thinking. "I don't know…"

He fell into a thoughtful silence, musing, while Hermione mechanically ate her own sandwich, her thoughts in a whirl all of their own.

Hermione knew that Cedric's father worked for the Ministry of Magic, and she knew that he had grown up with magic as part of his life. His utter faith in the Ministry, though – could he not see the threat the dementors represented? How it would only take one dementor going rogue to render huge swaths of people soulless, condemned to nothingness for all eternity?

Cedric seemed to think that though barbaric, it was appropriate, in some circumstances, to punish a person in such a way. Hermione couldn't fathom of anything possibly being less appropriate, ever. The only legitimate use of a Dementor's Kiss would be to suck the bit of soul out of a horcrux, in her opinion, and she didn't even know if that was possible. She wasn't about to ask a dementor, after all.

"—might be a banshee, actually," Cedric was saying, as Hermione's ears tuned back in. He looked grim. "The idea of a banshee screaming, with everyone I cared about dead at her feet – my parents, my friends, you – that idea scares me more than anything I can imagine." He gave her a sad look. "I'd be so helpless, you know? You can't do anything against a banshee."

Hermione understood the fear of being helpless, completely unable to control or do anything to affect the circumstances around you. It had been at the core of her own fear with the boggart.

"Well," Hermione said, quirking her lips. "You could always ask Professor Lockhart. He did defeat the Bandon Banshee in his one book, you know."

Cedric was startled into laughing.

"I'd sooner ask Filch," Cedric declared. He grinned. "Still, though – History's been rather good this year, actually. He's been teaching us about staffs and wands lately."

"Wands?" Hermione said, blinking. "Really?"

"Really," Cedric said emphatically. "It's important stuff, too – did you know that wizards moved to using wands so their hands wouldn't blow up?"

Hermione vaguely remembered something of that nature.

"I think so," she said, nodding. "Someone warned me of that, when I started learning wandless magic—"

"That's exactly why wandless magic should be left to masters," Cedric cut her off, alarmed. He looked at her seriously. "I hope you're not still practicing that, Hermione – maybe once you're a N.E.W.T. student and have more control over your magic, but at this age—" He broke off, looking worried. "I just don't want to see you hurt yourself," he finished softly, his eyes shining with concern.

"I haven't been," Hermione assured him, surprised. "It was just a couple times over the summer."

"To get around the ban against magic outside of school?" Cedric said, giving her a half grin of commiseration. "I get that. I probably tried that when I was younger, too. Though I didn't know anything about why wizards made wands at the time – I'd never have tried if I had known."

Hermione refrained from responding and helped herself to another sandwich.

After eating most of the basket, Cedric unveiled a surprise – for dessert, the House Elves had specially made him chocolate-covered strawberries, kept in a box that had been magically chilled.

"Hogwarts has these?" Hermione said in surprise. "I've never seen them served here before."

"I asked for them specifically," Cedric admitted. His lips quirked. "I know they're considered a romantic dessert in the muggle world."

"They are," Hermione admitted. "They're really good, though."

"Tasty and seductive? Count me in," Cedric said, grinning and putting the lid of the box aside. "I've never had them before."

"Seductive?" Hermione's eyes opened wide, and Cedric looked over at her, his eyes molten.

"Maybe a little," he murmured. His eyes were dark, intense on hers. "You'll let me feed you a couple, won't you, Hermione?"

Hermione found herself wordless at his expression, and she could do naught but nod. Cedric grinned.

"Come here," he said, shifting. "Closer."

Hermione found herself soon nestled in his lap sideways, her legs over one of his, her back resting against his other. Cedric reached for a strawberry, holding her gaze before sliding the treat between her lips.

The chocolate covered strawberries themselves were incredible. The chocolate was smooth and rich, and the burst of flavor with the fruit was divine. A noise of bliss escaped her as she ate it, and when she opened her eyes again to look at Cedric, his eyes were dark.

"I see why they say they're seductive," he said hoarsely. "Here – have another."

The strawberries really were very good, and Hermione enjoyed eating them, but eating them became a bit of a performance, somehow. Cedric was rapt as he watched the strawberries slowly slide between her lips into her mouth, and Hermione let herself enjoy the strawberries audibly, groaning in delight at the taste, a curl of amusement drifting through her as she saw Cedric have to shift repeatedly.

"Aren't you going to have some?" Hermione asked, blinking up at him innocently.

"Ah – right," Cedric said, faltering. His eyes were still on hers. "Yeah—I'll—"

"Open wide," Hermione said sweetly, pushing the fruit through his lips, and Cedric bit down instinctively, only to groan a moment later as Hermione pulled the leaves away.

"Merlin's pants, these really are good," he said. He looked at the box, mildly impressed. "The muggles were excellent, coming up with these."

"Glad you think so," Hermione teased, picking up another. "Here."

Cedric maintained eye contact as she slid the fruit into her mouth, slowly eating it as she watched. Hermione watched, but it was kind of funny to her, somehow. Was she supposed to find him slowly eating it sexy?

He certainly seemed to find her eating them arousing, somehow. Hermione wasn't sure what was supposed to be appealing about it, but she played along. It was easy enough to watch him as she fed him a few, and it was interesting to watch as his eyes darkened, his breath coming quicker. She didn't really see the appeal of it, but she was at least able to refrain from giggling or looking bored.

Eventually, they started alternating feeding each other strawberries, until there was only one left.

"They gave us an odd number?" Hermione said, perturbed. "That's hardly fair."

"We'll have to share," Cedric said hoarsely. "Here."

He held the strawberry to her lips, and Hermione opened obediently, intending to bite off half, only to have him push the entire thing in.

"Mmph!"

Her teeth bit down automatically, and a moment later, Cedric was kissing her urgently, the flavor of chocolate and strawberry melding between them into the kiss. Cedric groaned, pulling her closer, and Hermione's eyes closed as she kissed him back.

Oddly, she'd have thought it'd be terribly awkward, holding a strawberry in her mouth while someone kissed her, but she found herself somehow able to simultaneously eat it and kiss him back, and though she ended up swallowing all of it, Cedric only getting bits of tasting it when his tongue swept into her mouth, she had to admit it was more stimulating than she'd thought.

She pulled back slightly, discreetly wiping the edge of her mouth, and looked at Cedric. His pupils were wide, blown-out, and his breath was coming in short pants.

"More snogging?" he asked, his voice low.

Hermione was amused, somehow, and she leaned back into him.

"More snogging," she agreed, and she kissed him again.

The kissing went on for a while, and it varied in type and intensity. Some of the time, Hermione was able to be swept up in the intensity of it, which was quite nice and intoxicating, but other times it seemed to lag, and she ended up analytically experimenting to see what would get the best reaction from him, almost detached from what her body was doing entirely.

Cedric seemed thoroughly and completely into the kissing, regardless of what was going on. He was addicted to her lips, it seemed, and he very much enjoyed her pressing kisses up the long column of his neck, as well as when she sucked on the joint of his neck to his shoulder. His groans and shifting made Hermione feel a bit heady, that she was able to garner such a reaction from him, but it was nothing compared to the desire and desperation she saw in his eyes.

Still, though. Hermione had worn robes that wouldn't wrinkle, but also ones that were not particularly low cut. Cedric's hands skimmed her waist and went up her back as he held her, kissing her, and though they paused in confusion at her bra strap, they didn't do anything but continue on their way to her curls, where he held her head and tangled his fingers as he kissed her desperately.

Later that night, when Hermione returned to the Slytherin common room, her face was flushed, her hair a mess, and Tracey and Millie began whooping when she came in. Hermione ignored them, going over to Blaise directly, who looked up from his book curiously.

"Blaise," Hermione said. "If I wanted to start a Wandless Magic club, would you want in?"

Blaise gave her a slow grin.

"Are you kidding?" He laughed. "Of course I'd want in. Though I hear it's kind of dangerous." His eyes sparkled. "Maybe if we invited Malfoy, he could have a terrible 'mistake' and get his hand blown off."

Hermione was startled into laughter. "You're terrible."

"You love me this way," Blaise pouted, before he smirked. "Are you really?"

"Starting a wandless magic club?" Hermione said, her lips curling in amusement. "Not really. Not yet, anyway. I haven't read much about it, but I was considering maybe someday."

"Well, let me know when you do," he said, grinning. "You know you can count me in."

Hermione went to her dorm room with a firm sense of defiance and vindication, though as she reflected as she undressed, she wasn't quite sure as to why.