Harry and Hermione lemons i found

by ttyyt

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13. 13

"—and I must reiterate the severity of Mister Selwyn's crimes," Hermione's voice ranged through the tall room, echoing in the stillness of it as the members of the council listened attentively. "His blatant disrespect for magical creatures have led him to murder half the herd of Thestrals that resided peacefully close to his home, in the outskirts of Hogsmeade. For this, I ask for the maximum penalty for such a crime—"

"—That's outrageous!" Robert Goodwin, Selwyn's solicitor, exclaimed, leaving his chair as his client scowled. "This man was only defending his property! Surely you wouldn't send him to Azkaban for such a thing? It'd be a dishonor, especially considering the reason why."

"He hunted them at night while they slept," Hermione countered, her gaze never leaving the stands of the Council of Magical Law as she continued to speak. "It was a deliberate act of vengeance, as we know, but that's completely irrelevant. He hunted them in cold blood and laughed when the Aurors apprehended him. Letting him off without severe consequences would be ridiculous, idiotic, and a disrespect to everything this Council stands for."

"Prosecutor Granger is out of her mind," Robert stated, walking further into the space in the middle of the room, barren of anything except the bushy haired witch's form standing before the Chief Warlock. "My client was grief-stricken, and it wasn't a hunting. He defended his territory from those Merlin damned creatures that kept popping up on his backyard. His fine is already disgraceful for such a petty crime, but Miss Granger seems hell bent on putting him on Azkaban. Tell me, Prosecutor, do you have a bone to pick with my client?"

The members of the Council stayed quiet, all of their eyes returning to the witch and waiting for her response. Hermione barely threw a look at the solicitor before walking back towards her small desk, sitting down quietly and ruffling through her papers as the elderly witches and wizards looked at each other in confusion. Robert frowned, gritting his teeth as he turned towards her.

"Well?" He asked, voice barely away from being a snarl. "Are you not going to answer me?"

"I will," She answered, nonchalant. "But I'll wait until you remember your manners in front of the Council, Mister Goodwin."

"Excuse me?" The solicitor asked, disbelief and anger shining on his face.

The witch slammed her folder closed, getting up from her chair again and coming to stand some steps before the older wizard, eyes hard. "You had your time to make your end statement, and I had mine, yet it feels like I'm arguing with a petulant five year old with how much you've interrupted me in the last ten minutes. I'm just waiting until you remember that I'm the one speaking now, though I'm starting to doubt such thing will happen before the trial is over."

Standing behind the prosecutor's desk, Harry Potter's eyebrows raised in amusement as he watched the solicitor splutter incoherently, trying to ignore the heat on his belly at the way Hermione was carrying herself: confident, unthreatened, with her formal jacket off and her sleeves rolled up to her elbows, and her hair contained on a high bun.

"How dare you—" Robert started, walking closer to her, trying to use his bigger height as an intimidation tactic as he invaded her personal space—

Harry moved, standing behind her with his wand on hand and a glare directed to the solicitor. The other wizard wilted, frowning and scowling at them as Chief Warlock Doge cleared his throat and gained the attention of everyone in the room.

"Prosecutor Granger is quiet right, Mister Goodwin," He stated, frowning at the solicitor. "She was graceful enough to allow your interruptions without consequences until it became clear you had no respect for her time in this courtroom, and I can only apologize profusely to her for letting you do such a thing. Is there anything else you'd like to add, Miss Granger?"

"No, Chief Warlock," Hermione said, putting her hands behind her back and relaxing her stance. "That will be all."

"Sir—" Robert's voice was stopped as Doge lifted his hand in a silencing manner.

"If you both will wait outside, the Council and I will deliberate on the sentence."

Harry followed Hermione out, leaving Proudfoot as the primary security inside of the courtroom; he stayed quiet until they crossed the entrance to a rest room, right next to the one where Robert and Selwyn had retreated with several nasty glances towards the both of them.

"You okay?" The black haired man asked, sitting down on one of the available small sofas and watching as she paced the length of the room, frowning and with her face flushed from the argument before.

"Yeah," She sighed, walking over and dropping her body as close as she could to his. "But Robert Goodwin has got to be one of the most exasperating solicitors I've had to deal with, and that's saying something."

Harry hummed, passing a hand across her shoulders and bringer her closer, leaning down to deposit a kiss on her forehead. "You handled that extremely well, though. I would've punched him in the gut the second time he had interrupted me, especially with that condescending tone of his."

Hermione snorted softly. "I called him a petulant five year old."

"He is," He answered, scoffing. "If the Council lets Selwyn go with the completely brainless arguments Goodwin was making I'll seriously think they're going senile."

"I don't think they will," She stated, a sliver of nervousness shining through her voice. "My prosecution was air tight, I triple checked everything."

"I'm sure you did, and it showed," Harry chuckled softly, kissing her cheek and lingering there for a moment before pulling back. "Have I told you how much I love being on courtroom duty when it's one of your cases?"

"Constantly," Hermione nodded, biting her lip. "I'm surprised you can function with how much time you spend staring at my arse."

The wizard smirked. "I'm always on top of my game, but you are very distracting, love, especially during end statements."

"Hmm, you like it when I take charge?" She asked, though it was clear she already knew the answer, judging by the way she shuffled in place to press her body closer to his, leaning up to capture his lips in a quick and messy kiss before separating.

"I love it," He whispered, kissing her again as his arm brought her closer. He moved his body to face hers, snaking his free arm across her waist as he felt her bit his lower lip softly, and her tongue entered his mouth. He lost himself on the kiss, momentarily forgetting that they were waiting for an official sentencing, and his breath hitched when a hand cupped at the tent on his pants.

"How long where you like this?" Hermione whispered against his lips, hand caressing him through the fabric.

"I thought I had it under control until you shut Goodwin up," Harry answered, leaning down to kiss her neck. "That was hot."

"Hmm," The witch continued to cop him, even moving his long red robes out of the way to maneuver more easily, but a knock on the door interrupted them.

"The Council is ready to give sentencing," Proudfoot's voice traveled through the door. "Get in here."

Harry sighed, defeated and uncomfortable as his erection had grown considerably from Hermione's quick and merciless ministrations, but the witch giggled as she left the sofa, pulling on his robes until he was standing right in front of her.

"It'll be done in a few minutes," She whispered, adjusting his robes so that they hid the tent on his crotch. "Do you have anything to do after this? Another case to oversee?"

"No," He murmured, smirking at her. "I'm all yours after this."

"Good," Hermione stated, tugging on his arm and walking towards the door as he followed. "Then come with me to my office, we can have…lunch together."

Before he could open the door, her hands grabbed his chin and turned his face towards her; she moved it softly from side to side, hand caressing his freshly trimmed beard slowly before she reached into his breast pocket and grab the handkerchief that he always kept there. She swiped it over his face quickly, giggling at his spluttering; at his confused look, she smirked and opened the door, turning back to him and whispering quietly as she shoved the handkerchief on her bra.

"I'm just making sure my seat for lunch is clean," She winked, and turned around to leave through the door, all the while adjusting her shirt.

Harry blew out a breath, feeling oddly hot under his collar as he followed her to the courtroom, praying that the trial would be over quickly enough.

His hands gripped the plastic containers of their lunch as Hermione spoke to her assistant in a quick manner, double checking paperwork and rearranging meetings. He sighed inaudibly, his gaze traveling across the Auror cubicles and staring at his fellow coworkers, praying that he didn't look as excited as he thought he did, not wanting to give away the images that were running through his mind.

"Oh, and Harry and I will have lunch in my office now," Hermione stated, ripping the Auror out of his thoughts. "I won't be available for the next hour or so, unless it's an emergency."

"Yes, Miss Granger," Tom answered, scribbling on his notepad and smiling at both of them before retreating back to his desk, immediately writing and sending several flying memos.

The black haired man followed the witch inside of her office, closing the door behind him and discreetly putting up several privacy and locking charms, being grateful for the dark tinted windows that faced the Auror Offices, preventing their coworkers from knowing exactly what was going on behind closed doors.

He walked over to the desk, depositing their food on one of the two chairs facing the witch behind the desk, and raising an eyebrow at her serious expression.

"You okay?"

"Hmm," She answered, looking up at him with a smirk. "Come here."

He obliged, feeling the tent on his crotch tighten at the way her eyes racked over his body; she pulled him closer by his belt, capturing his lips hungrily when he leaned down. He groaned, pushing against her and wounding his arms around her waist. Hermione hands left his belt, traveling upwards to rub at his chest and shoulders, bringing him closer by the collar as their tongues moved against each other. He could feel and hear every single one of her breaths, and his sin shuddered at the way one of her hands moved south again, coping his cock through the fabric of his pants and reveling on his moan.

She chuckled softly, seemingly taking mercy on him and entertaining herself with pulling off his red robes, throwing them carelessly on the ground as his hands moved to grip at her arse. The wizard's head moved down, kissing at her neck as her hands traveled down, undoing his buttons one by one until it was possible to get rid of his shirt; she pushed back at him, separating herself only enough to let him take the white garment off as she did the same, getting rid of her own shirt and undoing the zipper of her skirt.

His breath hitched as he distractedly tossed his shirt on the ground, eyeing her body hungrily as she stood before him in only her underwear, and his hands moved quickly to undo his belt, his cock straining painfully against his briefs. He grabbed at the edge of his pants, intent on taking them off, but the bushy haired witch stopped him.

"Leave them on," She whispered, wounding one of her arms around his neck as she pulled him towards him until her back collided with her desk. "You know I love how they look on you."

"I know," He answered, his hands gripping at her thighs to help her up onto the wooden surface. "I wore them just for you."

"Good," Hermione purred, kissing him passionately as she trapped him between her legs, heels resting on his lower back; his hands moved, quick searching for the strap on her back and undoing it with practiced ease, allowing the bra to come off in a matter of seconds. He tugged at it, throwing it on the ground and feeling his mouth become dry at the sight of her hard nipples and naked breasts. He licked his lips in anticipation, his gaze wandering over to her face.

"Can I…?" He asked, breathless.

"Of course," She answered, smiling, and she threw her head back when the wizard dived to her neck, kissing and sucking at the skin as one of his hands traveled to her chest, groping softly at each of her breasts as his mouth moved south; Hermione's hands threaded through his hair, messing it up and tugging at it as his teeth pulled at her nipple softly, enjoying the way it hardened against his tongue. He sucked on it harshly, the witch moaning softly underneath him as her nails racked over the back of his shoulders, and he reveled in the stinging sensation that they left on his skin.

He traveled down further, kissing the skin of her belly as his hands tightened on her thighs, energy coursing through his veins at the thought of what was waiting for him in between her legs, prompting his mouth to move quickly until it was kissing at the edge of the black knickers. He breathed harshly, licking his lips again as his hands moved—

Hermione's hands trapped his own against her thighs as she straightened herself slightly on the desk, and he had no time to look up at her before her voice, breathy and husky, reached his ears. "Use your mouth, love, I know you can do it."

He nodded, shuddering slightly as her hands traveled up through his arms and into the back of his head resting there as she pulled softly at the hair on it. His tongue slipped out of his mouth, slithering in between her skin and her knickers in search of leverage, and he mentally congratulated himself as his teeth grabbed hold of the cotton fabric; slowly, enjoying the moment, his head traveled down as he tugged the underwear with him with only his mouth, and the witch's legs moved to help him until he was kneeling in front of the desk. Her knickers were only hanging from her toes at this point, and he looked up at her when the movements of her limbs stopped, leaving him on the position as she stared at him.

"Sorry," She murmured, breathing heavily and tilting her head to the side; her eyes were shining with lust, but the black haired man felt his chest warm at the way they softened when she looked at him. "I'm enjoying the moment. I don't think I can find the words to describe what it does to me to have you like this."

He smirked, carefully keeping the knickers on his teeth as she finally withdrew her feet from the holes of the fabric. He let go of it, straightening enough to nestle his head in between her legs before he spoke. "You have no idea how much I've been craving to be like this."

Hermione smiled at him, her hands threading through his hair and racking her nails on his scalp as her legs opened up to him; he shuffled forward at the same time as she moved to the very edge of the desk, and he swore his mouth salivated as his eyes settled in on his target. He swallowed, looking up at her, intent on asking for permission, but she saw it in his eyes before he could make a sound, and nodded quickly as her legs parted even more and she settled in her position.

He didn't wait, moving forward as his tongue made a tentative first lap across her folds, and when the breathy moan reached his ears, his mind shut off of everything except the heat in front of him; one of his hands moved, joining his tongue and searching for her opening as he concentrated on finding the little knob of pleasure that always drove her crazy—

His tongue moved upwards until he found it, sucking on it softly as one of his fingers entered her slowly, testing and feeling slick washing over his skin as she bucked slightly against him. Her hand gripped his hair, nails digging on his scalp as he continued his work, ears only focused on her moans and groans and the little encouragement that were leaving her mouth as he added yet another finger until he was inside up to his knuckles, only to retract slowly and bend them just before he left her—

Her breath hitched and her hips startled, and he smiled against her clit before his mouth resumed his movements. He felt his cock strain painfully against his pants, throbbing in anticipation with each sound that left her mouth, and he was so focused on her pleasure that a surprised, slight gasp tore out of his throat when her hands tugged his face back. Hermione left the desk, standing on shaky legs as he stood up, passing a hand carelessly through his lips and slathering her arousal on all of his lower jaw, quickly wiping at the fog inside of his glasses to correct the blurry sight that he had been dealt with.

She advanced on him, pupils blown and chest moving rapidly as her hands pushed against his chest, guiding his body until it slumped on the leather chair that sat innocently behind the desk. He shuffled on it, thankful for the lack of armrests as the witch moved to sit on his lap, facing him. She drew him in by the chin, kissing him as he answered hungrily, reveling on the taste of her arousal as he legs moved even further up him. Soon, she was sitting right about his still clothed erection, and the friction of the fabric made him groan desperately.

Hermione leaned back away from him and her weight left him only enough to allow her hands easy access to his uniform pants; she grabbed the edges of it, along with his briefs, and pulled them down only enough to allow his cock to sprung up, leaving the clothing right in the middle of his thigh. She returned to her previous position, rubbing against his erection as she accommodated herself on top of him, eventually standing with each leg on either side of him and his cock lined up and ready to enter her.

Harry shuddered, feeling her nails racking from his torso and up to his chest, moving through his neck and ending at the back of it, grabbing and pulling onto the handful of hair that rested there as she captured his lips on a vicious kiss. He felt her teeth on his lower lip and opened himself up to her as a hand snaked down, gripping his erection carefully and keeping it in place as her hips moved down.

He tore again from the kiss, groaning in pleasure as she slowly sat on his throbbing cock; his breathing picked up as his legs trembled in excitement, and his hands moved to grasp at her waist as she sank fully into him. He kissed her neck as he waited, but the bushy haired witch soon grabbed his hands to separate them from her skin, pushing them back until they were behind his back.

"No touching," She murmured, a playful and lustful glint on her eyes. "Shame I didn't bring a tie with me this time around."

"I can behave," He stated, smirking slightly as his hands clasped each other against the back of the chair.

"I know you can," Hermione answered, moving against him once as her arms wound around his neck, leaning into him. "But I've always adored the multiple uses we can find for the tie, don't you?"

"I'll make sure to wear one next time," Harry promised, immediately moaning when she seemed satisfied with his answer, and her movements started off slow.

She bounced on top of him, his cock entering her only for her to move up quickly enough, and his hands gripped each other forcefully as she gripped his chin, turning him to her as her movements increased. The chair beneath them creaked ominously, its wheels sliding them back until the back of it collided with the bookshelf on the wall behind her desk, and the sound of plastic hitting wood echoed through the room, accompanying their flesh slapping against each other.

She kissed him roughly, and his chest stuttered as her nails dug on his cheeks, feeling the all too familiar jolt of arousal that came with Hermione's more dominant side, and his cock throbbed deeply. He groaned on her mouth, wishing for his peak to receded, but the feeling of her hand pulling at his hair and her teeth leaving marks on his mouth and neck was too much for him to bear; she bounced harder, moaning loudly on his mouth as she tightened her walls around him, and he separated himself from her kiss and leaned back, trying to hold off his orgasm—

But her nails moved quickly, racking down his chest and when he felt them scratch at his nipples, his cock throbbed and a strangled moan left his mouth as he felt himself spill inside of her. His chest heaved, vision growing blurry for a moment as she bounced slowly, dragging every last spam out of him until he was leaning back against the chair, frowning slightly at the way he had performed and wishing he would've lasted longer.

His head moved back to look at her, and Hermione kissed his cheek sweetly before moving off of him, and he remembered and acknowledged the power that she held over him as the sight of her arousal and his own climax dripped from between her legs, and he tried to burn the sight of it on his mind. Hermione jumped onto the desk again, opening her legs for him as he walked over, kneeling before the furniture again and looking up at her.

"I have a meeting after this," She breathed, throwing a quick look at the clock on one of the shelves. "I need to be presentable, and clean."

"As you wish," Harry answered, and after a traded gaze with her, he dived in between her legs. His tongue moved rapidly, knowing that she hadn't reached her peak as he had, wishing for her to feel as good as he did; he tasted himself on her, and a sliver of pleasure ran through his spine at the thought of it, something he did fairly often but that still made his cock harden whenever he thought of cleaning his mess for her—

She was close, shuddering as her hands pushed his head even more against her sensitive skin, and he vaguely wondered if his hair would ever be the same after what her hands had put it through, but his tongue moved between her folds mercilessly as his fingers entered her quickly, intent on driving and exquisite orgasm out of her—

Her walls tightened around them as she groaned, thighs closing around his head as her climax washed over her, and he felt a rush of wetness hit his tongue; he licked at it dutifully, cleaning every bit of it from her folds and the area around them before his head moved, and the legs around him released him. He heaved a breath, now aware of the way air had been thin on those last few moments, but feeling too elated to care as a hand passed through his chin, feeling slick on every inch of his beard and lower jaw.

His head turned up to meet her eyes, and he smiled tiredly at her flushed, pleased face as she beckoned him up. He straightened up and stood, legs still trembling slightly from his orgasm as he leaned closer to her, nestling between her still opened legs and kissing her mouth sweetly, mentally wishing she could taste their combined arousal on his lips.

They stayed like that for several moments, basking on the afterglow of their encounter, but the clock chimed and broke their bubble; Harry sighed, separating himself from her in a slightly disappointed manner, gazing down to the one article of clothing that he still had on, raising an amused eyebrow at the wet spot on the crotch area of it.

"If I walk out of here like this they'll never let me live this down," He chuckled, turning to the side to search for his robes and his wand.

"I think it looks great on you, that look," Hermione answered, caressing her belly contently as she unabashedly stared at him, smirking. "Same time, next week?"

"You know it," He answered, using magic to fix his clothing and get rid of the layer of sweat and fluids on his body. He walked over, kissing her softly on the lips before leaning back. "What do you want for dinner tonight?"

"I don't mind whatever," She answered, shrugging. "I'll be home early, alright?"

"Hmmm," The clock chimed again, prompting him to give her one last kiss before walking to the door, throwing a look over his shoulder and finding her already dressed and looking fresh, as if she hadn't milked him just mere moments before.

With an amused snort, he opened the door and left her, a spring on his step as he made his way to his desk.

He had been shuffling folders slowly, separating the ones that needed to be sent for proper filing when a stack of papers dropped heavily on the free side of his desk; he jumped, startled, and looked up to scowl at the intruder in his cubicle before his eyes met familiar, warm brown.

Hermione looked down on him, smiling as she conjured a stool right next to his swivel chair, sitting down and leaning over to deposit a sweet kiss on his lips.

"Aren't you supposed to be making sure that the criminals stay behind bars?" He asked, amused as he leaned on the backrest. "I've been counting down the minutes until you're free."

"You're going to have to keep counting, unfortunately," She sighed. "They just informed me that the trial has been moved to an hour. Apparently they had some issues in bringing the Carrows in, and the Aurors have requested back up."

Harry hummed, eyeing the thick file that she had left on top of his desk. "Is that the whole file? I thought it was thicker."

"It was," Hermione answered, leaning into her side until their shoulders were touching. "But you know that strong, to-the-point arguments are better for the Council. I condensed everything on this one folder and I'm confident that they won't let that ridiculous request for parole pass."

"So you're free for now, then?" He asked, before sighing dramatically. "Because I've been pushing papers for the last two hours and I could use a distraction."

The witch smiled. "What a coincidence, honey, I came to you for the same thing."

"Did you?" Harry chuckled. "We could go to an early lunch, read something, talk about that cat that has a rivalry with Crookshanks…"

"He hates Crooks without a reason and he's mean," Hermione interjected, and the wizard laughed softly.

"True," He answered, staring at her as her gaze left his face to travel down, fixating on the middle of his chest; a smirk overcame his mouth as his own hand moved, grabbing at the tie that hung loosely over his neck and playing with it. "I've been wearing it every day for this week, you know?"

"Oh, I know," She murmured, her eyes coming back to meet his eyes as she smiled, and leaned even further into him. "I've been staring at it all week."

"Everyone's starting to get suspicious," Harry scoffed playfully. "I had Proudfoot ask me twice if there was going to be a surprise inspection because I was 'too dressed up',"

"I had Tom ask me several times if I was okay because I kept staring at you from afar," The bushy haired witch answered, shrugging unapologetically. "I've just really been itching to get my hands on you for several days now, but criminals don't rest."

"They sure don't," He agreed, smirking. "But it seems that today is smiling upon us because you're absolutely free for the first time in a week, aren't you?"

"Until the Aurors arrive and after the trial, yes," Hermione nodded, biting her lip. "Training rooms?"

A disappointed sigh made its way out of his mouth, and he shook his head. "New batch of recruits, half the department is down there with them. Everything is full, I'm afraid."

The witch hummed mournfully, and he saw the way her eyes unfocused, no doubt thinking about someplace in which they could have the privacy they needed; his head turned in every direction, staring at the sea of cubicles and listening intently, only managing to hear faint scratching sounds of quill on parchment, and several low murmurs.

"Half the department is down there with them," He reiterated, turning back to her with a mischievous glint on his eyes. "This is place is basically dead right now, love."

She caught the meaning behind his words immediately, and copied his previous movements as her head swiveled in each direction. With a raised, amused eyebrow and a red tint on her cheeks, she addressed him again.

"Here?" She asked, and he could hear no objection on her tone; it was laced with excitement and a sliver of incredulity, most likely originating from the fact that this would be their most public escapade yet.

"Why not?" He murmured, and he felt himself growing excited at the mere thought of what they could do. "I'd love to. You?"

"You know I would," Hermione answered in a second, before narrowing her eyes playfully at him. "I'm just wondering how quiet you can be. We don't want somebody walking in on us, do we?"

"No, and I can be very quiet," He promised. "And if not, I'm sure you can find a way to gag me, love."

"If you're sure," She answered, moving to kiss him softly before leaning back and staring, waiting for his answer.

He shuffled on his chair, excitement running through his veins as he nodded. "I'm sure."

Hermione hummed, diving into his lips again with a kiss that was hungrier than before; her teeth bit at his lips, pulling at them as her tongue attacked his move and his own relinquished power to hers. He sighed into it, his skin feeling hotter now as the pressure on his crotch grew against his pants.

He felt one of her hands caressing his chest, pulling onto his tie as she broke the kiss; her eyes stared at the deep red fabric, as if thinking over its used, but in the end she shook her head and met his confused eyes.

"Not here," She answered, licking her lips. "I want to savor the moment when we use it, and I have plans for it."

His surprised moan was swallowed by her mouth as she kissed him again, right until he broke the kiss; his hands itched to move, to touch her back, but his eyes stared at her perfectly composed outfit with not a crinkle on sight, and there was a question on his eyes as he tried to regulate his breathing.

Hermione shook her head, hands moving to massage his shoulders. "As much as I want to have your hands all over me, I need to be presentable…unfortunately."

Harry snorted, nodding. "Later?"

"Later, right now is all about you, love" She answered, depositing a kiss on the tip of his nose as her hands traveled down, nails racking harshly against his fabric; he shuddered at the feel of it, skin tingling as her lips moved to his neck and her fingers reached the buckle of his belt fairly quickly. The metal of it clicked together, echoing ominously through the almost deserted Auror Offices, but there was no sound to indicate that they were about to be discovered, so the witch quickly undid the belt completely.

She unbuttoned his pants, pulling down the zipper as she pushed it against the tent on his briefs, and his breathing picked up at the friction of the copper and the fabric before she was done with said movement. She bit his neck softly, only enough to leave a red mark on it, and his own teeth dug on his tongue to stop the moan that wanted to leave his mouth as expert hands gripped at his cock, taking it out into the open.

Harry shuddered, Hermione's hand immediately setting to work and encasing his erection, moving up and down slowly as he tensed, pleasure spiking and hands gripping at everything that wasn't her body in an effort to distract himself from the sounds that wanted to tip away from his chest.

He was hard, extremely, but her hand was slowed down by the fact that his skin was dry, and she seemed to come to the same conclusion; she leaned back away from him, doing another quick assessment of their surroundings, before the upper part of her body leaned all the way down to his lap and her lips encased his head.

He hissed, feeling his cock throbbing as her mouth swallowed him with practiced ease, choking slightly as her head receded upwards, only to sink again and repeating the same motion until a moan escaped him.

His hand moved, clasping his mouth as Hermione left his cock with a wet sound that seemed to echo throughout every inch of the office; they stayed quiet, listening for a sign that somebody was going to check on them, but only the murmurs of the other workers were audible.

He sighed, throwing a look at his cock, now shining slightly from her spit, before he turned to the bushy haired witch; she smirked at him, shaking her head twice before leaving standing up. As she gazed at the other cubicles, as if checking one last time, he spied the way her hands folded her skirt up until her knickers were visible, and her hands pulled the edges of them down quickly; she took them off completely, fixing her skirt and sitting back down as she turned towards him.

"I'm not taking any chances today, love," She murmured, and her hands balled up the red fabric of her underwear tightly before she placed it against his lips.

Harry swallowed, his mouth feeling dry as he opened it up, feeling the fabric cover every single inch of his mouth as his lips pulled closed; he could feel the way his cheeks bulged just enough to be noticeable, and his tongue moved the underwear to search for a place to rest as Hermione's hand returned to his cock, using the now slicker skin to her advantage.

She was moving torturously slow, thumb grazing over the slit on his head and fingers tightening around his cock as her lips attacked his neck, and he was grateful for the pressure inside of his mouth as his moan and groans rumbled through his chest, only loud enough to be heard by her.

"I need you two to come with me, we got some criminals for a trial coming and they're a pain in the ass,"

One of the other Auror's, they couldn't know for sure who, had spoken just four cubicles away from them, and their movements stilled as they listened in on the conversation.

"They arrived early, didn't they?"

"Yeah, apparently the Carrows gave up halfway to here so they hurried, especially since the Council is getting restless."

As the voices faded, Harry whined disappointedly at what that meant; any second now, one of Hermione's colleagues would come and get her, and their time together and the very enjoyable activity that they were doing would be over.

But he turned to look at her, and her eyes met his with a determined, blazing expression, and he suddenly knew that she wouldn't leave until he was panting and trembling under her hands. One of them traveled to grip at the back of his neck, pushing him forward as she met him halfway, and they were soon joined by their foreheads as her other hand started to moved up and down his cock in a quick succession.

He groaned, closing his eyes, but a sharp tug from his hair made his gaze open again, and emerald met brown as he understood; the heat on his belly was growing with each passing second as his toes curled slightly, but his eyes fought to stay on hers as she kept pleasuring him, knowing that she wanted to see the moment he became undone.

"I can't wait to have you on my office later," She whispered against his closed lips. "You knew exactly what you were doing when you came in with the long tie, didn't you?"

Her fingers tightened around his cock for a second, making it throb and tremble as he groaned, nodding against her forehead quickly, and the witch sighed contently as her hand increased its speed.

"You look beautiful like this," She continued, as quiet as before. "But I'm wet just thinking about having you in between my legs…or perhaps I'll ride your face. That'd be nice, wouldn't it?"

He could feel it, he was so close—his cock throbbed deeply as her hand moved impossibly faster, and he squirmed on his seat at every sensation that traveled through his body and the images she had conjured on his mind. Her nails dug on the back of his neck, dragging down harshly, and the look on her eyes did something to him—

He groaned loudly, eyes rolling slightly at the back of his head, his cock seizing as he spilled on her hand; her movements slowed down until she was covering his head, trapping every single last droplet of his come on her fingers as he breathed sharply, the tension on his body leaving in a second. Hermione's lips kissed his neck lovingly, moving up until she was peppering kisses on his cheeks and the hand on the back of his neck left. Her fingers touched his mouth and his lips opened up automatically, and she pulled her knickers out of his mouth.

She leaned back slightly, putting the underwear on his shoulder as she gazed down at her hand, messy and full of his climax. He breathed deeply, spit running down the side of his mouth as his eyes zeroed in on her hand; it moved upwards and her fingers, coated on his release, rested against his lips.

"We have to clean up the mess," She whispered.

He swallowed her fingers, sucking on them thoroughly as the door of the Auror Office banged open; it prompted him to work quicker, cleaning every bit of evidence off of her fingers, uncaring of the wet sounds that left his mouth as he finished his work. Hermione hummed, grabbing her wand and waving it at her fingers and his crotch, getting rid of every incriminating fluid and sign of their activities. His pants righted themselves, zipper zooming up and button fixing itself as the bushy haired witch grabbed her knickers.

She folded them carefully, and his eyes stared at the fabric as steps echoed through the office; she pulled the left side of his red robes, shoving her ruined underwear on the inner pocket of it.

"I love you," She whispered sweetly, kissing his cheek as he sighed, repeating the three words on her ear just before a knock on the side of the cubicle interrupted them.

"Hey," Tom, Hermione's assistant, appeared. "The Council is ready for us, Miss Granger."

"Thanks, Tom," She smiled up, looking extremely innocent for someone who just made him come mere seconds ago. "I'll be right there."

"Alright—Oh! Auror Potter, sorry about this," The young man addressed the black haired wizard. "But Robards asked me to tell you to fill in for Proudfoot, he's out sick."

"No problem," Harry answered, grinning. "I'll be right there."

The assistant nodded, but the Auror spied the odd look that was thrown at his face before the younger man left, and a frown marred his face before his fingers found his chin wet from the spit that he hadn't been able to clean before getting interrupted.

A giggle ripped his attention over to Hermione, who looked incredibly put together as she left and vanished her stool, throwing a look over her shoulder at him as she gathered her folder and left his cubicle. Still reeling from the experience, Harry stood up to follow behind her, clearing his throat in an effort to distract himself from what was waiting for him after the trial.

If Hermione had hated dealing with Robert Goodwin, he would be willing to bet that Edward Longthorn was close to making her burst from anger. Harry could see it, in the way her shoulders were tenser than usual and the small glares that she'd send the solicitor's way as he argued that his clients—murderers, no less—should be granted parole.

He had to control the urge to scowl and growl, keeping his face carefully blank as it was asked of whenever he was working courtroom security, but if the solicitor kept trying to justify the Carrow's crimes he was sure that Hermione would wipe the floor with his arguments, and the Auror couldn't wait to see it.

"Mister Longthorn, are you justifying the cold blooded murder of a family?" One of the Council members asked, disbelieving.

"Madam, I am simply stating that, unlike what the prosecution believes, this was a crime of passion and thus does not deserve the long sentence that Prosecutor Granger—" The man sneered the two words, and Harry tightened his hand on his wand as the solicitor kept speaking. "—imposed on them five years ago. They've paid their due, I believe, but the deal of parole is made in good faith to show you all that they've changed."

He could see Hermione's hand tighten on her quill, bending it a little as the words of the older wizard echoed through the chamber; being behind her, he could only imagine her face: flushed red from anger and lips pursed at the audacity of the solicitor, with her eyebrows pulled down deeply as she tried to control her emotions.

She was going to win; Harry knew it, he knew it, and judging by the odd and disgusted looks that the solicitor was getting, he knew that the Council wouldn't be moronic enough to let the Carrows go, but to be sitting there and listening to this man explain why the brother and sister duo had broken in a house and murder a whole family was expected because they became romantically involved with the husband was enough to make anyone sick to the stomach.

"You've said your piece, Mister Longthorn," Chief Warlock Doge stated, voice tired as he side eyed the two offenders sitting bound to the metal chairs behind the solicitor. "Prosecutor Granger?"

The bushy haired witch stood up, and he could see her hands tremble slightly as they held on to the now rolled up folder of written notes. She stopped in the middle of the chamber, trading a scathing look with Edward as he returned to his post, and with a sigh began to address the Council.

"Pardon my manners today, but I frankly see no reason to argue against Mister Longthorn's defense because of the sheer amount of absurdity on it," Her voice carried through the room, as hard as steel as she started to pace slowly. "It'd be a waste of my time and yours if you let this trial go on further simply for the fact that the defense has fabricated a story of love lost to justify the horrible crimes that—"

"—it's not a fabrication, Miss Granger," Edward stated, leaving his seat and coming over to where she was standing; Harry barely contained the scoff that threatened to leave his mouth at the display of disrespect from the solicitor, not only interrupting Hermione's time but taking up her space as he came to stand before her. "Do I need to remind you of the definition of 'fabrication'?"

"Do I need to remind you of the courtroom protocols?" She asked calmly, but her knuckles were white from gripping her folder. "There's designated times for each argument, Mister Longthorn, but if it's too difficult for you to remember I'm sure the Council is willing to post a list on the door."

Harry bit his tongue to keep the small chuckle in, but frowned when the solicitor barely smiled and leaned in closer to the witch; there was something on the older man's eyes that he didn't like, and made the hair on the back of his head stand up.

"Funny, I like that," Edward answered, but shrugged. "But I wouldn't want to trouble the Council, Hermione—may I call you Hermione?—I'm just simply stating that you need to double check your facts before you stand there and accuse me of fabrication."

"It's Prosecutor Granger to you, Mister Longthorn," She answered, voice cold. "And I can assure everyone here that your story is a fabrication—they didn't even know the family—"

"—they loved the husband," The solicitor stated nonchalantly, and Harry growled to himself at the disregard for everything that the older man was showing. "They wanted him. They had him. They went wrong about it, but they've paid for their mistake."

"It wasn't a mistake," Hermione gritted out, turning to the Council. "With all due respect, it's an insult that I have to stand here arguing with this man over a parole is most definitely undeserved."

"Prosecutor Granger is right," Doge stated loudly, the vein on his forehead popping as he turned towards his fellow Council members. "I don't even think we need to debate about it, do we? Send the Carrows back to Azkaban, and I don't want them to step foot in here again as long as I'm Chief Warlock."

The Aurors stationed at Azkaban moved, quickly taking control of the unruly prisoners as Edward shrugged, seemingly unbothered about the fact that he lost the case. Harry stepped forward, closer to Hermione as the witch gathered her things quickly; she must've sensed him, because her head turned towards him, now more relaxed than before but still looking angry, though she managed a small smile for him as they started to walk towards the entrance of the chamber.

"You don't have to stay at the Ministry, you know?"

Edward's voice stopped them, and Harry growled lowly on his throat as the older man blocked their way out of the room.

"Move," The black haired man stated, but the solicitor barely looked at him before his attention came to rest on the witch.

"Private magical law can do wonders for your career, Hermione, it'd be a shame to stay at this place with your talent," Edward said, smirking at her.

"I'm not interested," She answered, glaring at him. "Now, let us through."

"Don't be like that," The solicitor waved her off. "At least hear me out. Let me take you somewhere, I can teach you things…in and out of the courtroom. I'm a very good speaker, and know how to use my tongue."

Harry bristled at the innuendo, tensing up—but Hermione snorted loudly, laughing softly as the older man frowned.

"Something funny?" Edward asked, slightly angry.

"The fact that you think you'd be able to eat a woman out properly is hilarious to me," The bushy haired witch answered unashamedly. "I've seen the way you are with your wife at the Ministry Balls. I have no desire in that dynamic, and no desire in knowing anything about you except the way fear looks on your face as I destroy whatever pathetic excuse you come up with for your clients."

The solicitor spluttered. "I'm—"

"—not man enough for me, Longthorn," Hermione interjected. "Not when you stand on this Council and try to argue for the top paying murderer to go free, and certainly not when you scold your wife in front of others for not giving you a handjob underneath the same table as the Minster. You're not half the wizard you think you are, and I certainly hope your wife realizes she can do so much better than you. Now, move, I have trial papers to revise and my boyfriend's face to ride this fine afternoon."

She moved and Harry followed after her, his breathing slightly shallow at the display that he had just witnessed, and he tugged at his collar as they entered the lift, feeling as if the knickers were burning a hole on his robe pocket.

He thought that they'd be getting to it once they were inside of her office, but Hermione simply nodded to one of the chairs in front of her desk and went about reading several papers. Harry frowned slightly, more confused than anything, but sat down and ruffled through papers in search of the ones she needed, helping her work through the small pile that had been left at her desk while she was down on the courtrooms.

It was in between searching for the eleventh file that he felt pressure on his crotch, right where his softening erection was. He startled, crushing the paper on his hand in a reflex as something solid moved and made him harden again almost instantly. His head turned towards Hermione, watching as she continued to read in peace as the pressure moved—

It left his tent, and he sighed inaudibly before it came back, now centered on a smaller radio and feeling sharper than before—

It was her heel.

He stifled a groan as it dug slightly on his cock, only to leave immediately and repeating the movement four more times before he gave up; he left the papers on the desk, a hand traveling down to grasp at the foot as the bushy haired witch raised her head.

"Something wrong?" She asked, innocently, but her foot wiggled on his hold and he breathed out.

"Are you done?" He asked, not unkindly but with a definite tone of desperation on his voice.

"Maybe,"

He narrowed his eyes at her, playful as a smirk appeared on her face and she threw her files carelessly on her desk, not caring where they ended up as she leaned back on her chair and her heel returned to tease him.

"I shaved this morning," He stated, passing a hand absently through the now rough stubble that sat on his chin, just the way she liked it.

"I noticed," Hermione nodded, biting her lip. "Was that for me?"

"Ready for the ride," Harry answered, cheeky smile on his face as he swallowed in anticipation. "Sit on me?"

The witch sighed contently, nodding and grinning as she stood up. "So polite, aren't you?"

He watched with rapt attention as she got rid of her skirt first, kicking it off to the side as her hands worked her shirt buttons slowly. Harry got up from his own seat, intent on copying her before the sound of people talking distracted him; he took out his wand, locking the door and adding the same charms they always used for their adventurous meetings, and when he turned around he found her dropping her bra on the ground and moving towards taking her heels off.

"Could you—" He interjected, stopping her. "Could you…keep them on?"

"Oh?" She answered, raising an eyebrow at him, interested. "Do you want me to?"

"Yeah," He breathed, moving to take off his own shirt and pants as he nodded, mentally thrilling when she stopped her hands and stood, completely naked except for the black high heels on her feet.

He stumbled slightly out of his pants, knowing that he looked increasingly eager with each passing second, but he didn't care; he walked over to her, intent on capturing the witch's lips before her hand pushed him back.

"You're forgetting something, love,"

He frowned, following her gaze until his eyes set on the discarded tie on top of his clothing, and he bent down to gather it quickly; as if it was a precious object—and perhaps it was, in this context—he deposited on Hermione's hand and waited, standing completely naked before her.

Her hands poised themselves on his shoulders, pushing down until he was following her lead, and he ended up kneeling on the ground, only to the pushed further until he was laying down on the ground, his gaze on the underside of her desk.

His vision suddenly blurred and darkened, only to focus on her face as she leaned and kiss him, taking away his breath for several moments before she broke the connection; her hands tugged his arms down, and his body shuffled to move towards the direction until she was satisfied. He swallowed, mouth and throat feeling dry as one of her legs swung over his chest to allow her to sit on it, and he turned his head up to meet her eyes.

She leaned down, bending the upper part of her body until their faces were as close as they could be.

"I'm going to ride your face, love," Hermione whispered, leaning back and showing him his red tie, shuffling off of him to gather his wrist together on top of his navel. "And you're going to be tied and behave while I do so. Are you okay with that?"

"Please," He answered, voice breaking slightly at the end.

"You'll be good, then?" She asked, smiling down at him at his quick nod. "I never doubted that, but just in case…"

She grabbed his wrists, keeping them in place as her hand moved; his head leaned down, trying to see what she was doing until he felt fabric rubbing against his balls, wounding around them and the base of his cock. His breath hitched, moving his wrists experimentally and sighing pleasurably at the pulling sensation that it caused around his erection.

"Is that good?" He turned towards her at the question, and he spied the way her eyes softened as she regarded him, and he knew that she was giving him an out of this situation. "Not too tight?"

"No, no, it's perfect," He rushed to answer, his hands moving in reflex and causing the tie to tighten around his balls, making him moan softly.

"I'll make sure to give you plenty of breaks."

She smiled at him, leaning down to kiss him, tasting him thoroughly before she resumed her previous position, sitting on his chest; her hands took off his glasses, and he tried his best to follow the blurry figure as it became the only thing he could see. His breathing picked up in excitement and his hands fisted hard, careful not to pull too hard on the tie as Hermione descended completely over his mouth.

He groaned, immediately putting his tongue to work as she witch above him started a slow grind, carefully keeping her thighs around his head as she balanced herself, gripping the edge of her desk.

His head bucked against her hips instinctively, feeling her movements slathering her arousal all over his face and mentally thrilling at the feeling as she moved slightly faster; he moaned trying to follow her rhythm as his arms moved, as if wanting to hold on to her thighs—

He groaned, the pressure from the tie making his cock throb as he moved his wrists, and Hermione laughed.

"I knew the safety measure was a good idea," His ears barely picked up on her sentence, voice husky and breathy as she bucked against his face harder; he licked and moved his lips and tongue against everything on his path, starting to feel lightheaded from the lack of air—

She left his face, allowing him for big gulps of oxygen as her hand caressed his hair lovingly, fingers threading between locks as her nails racked on his scalp; his vision was still blurry, but he reveled on the heat of her thighs around his head as she lowered herself onto his waiting mouth again, her moans and groans the only thing that managed to break into his focused state.

Time seemed to pass both slowly and quickly, and he had no way of knowing how long they had been doing this, but he felt let out a whine of disappointment as Hermione suddenly left his face after the third break she gave him; he sat up with ease, narrowed eyes looking for her before the tie around his cock loosened. His wrist followed, being free as an object was pressed on his palm; he recognized the frame of his glasses immediately, rushing to put them on and blinking as he turned towards the witch.

She crawled towards him quickly, not wasting time before she sank on his throbbing cock and slipped something around his neck; he threw a look down as she adjusted on his lap, swallowing at the sight of his tie, Windsor knot and everything, tightening around his neck until he felt the pressure of it. Hermione rocked against him, and Harry decided to lay back suddenly.

He fell on his back with he on top of his body, her surprised moan at the movement swallowed by the slight gasp as he took care of switching their position, never once allowing for his erection to leave her; he pushed inside as far as he could go, enjoying the way her legs wrapped around his hips and her heels dug into his skin.

Her hands gripped his chin, drawing in his lips is a searing kiss that made his rhythm stutter slightly, but her feet moved down to push against his arse, drawing him in and jumpstarting his hips once more; the tie around his neck tightened once more, adding to the sensations that were running through his veins as he met her gaze.

She was flushed red from neck to face, mouth opened as moans escaped her, body bouncing slightly from his thrusting, but her eyes were looking at him, traveling down to his neck before meeting his gaze again, and he knew that she was asking without words if that was too much. He bottomed out on her, swallowing her gasp with a kiss as a hand encased the one that currently had control on the tie, and he pulled on it, reveling on the pressure of it as he leaned back from the kiss.

Her pupils were blown, and she pulled harshly on the tie to make him lean against her, draping his body on top of hers completely as his cock kept entering her desperately; her free hand roamed, nails digging onto the back of his shoulders as her heels suddenly decided to make themselves known again, trailing over his hips and lower back.

The feeling of the leather, rubbing against his skin, and the pressure of the tie around his neck—not to mention the way she tightened her walls around him as she bit into his neck—was everything he could concentrate on as he groaned, spilling inside of her. In a short moment of clarity, right before his vision blurred and his lungs stopped working for a second, his hand traveled quickly in between their bodies to search for her clit—

Hermione whined and moaned loudly, her climax washing over her as her legs crushing his hips for several seconds before they loosened, dropping to the sides as he slipped his softened cock out of her, only to lay down right next to her as his chest heaved. For a few moments, nothing happened, each of them basking on the afterglow of their lovemaking before he felt her hands caressing his neck, undoing the knot of the tie and throwing the small piece of fabric away from them.

"How are you?" She asked, moving to lay against him as her hand massaged the red, circular mark around his neck.

"Considering how many ties is an appropriate amount to wear on a work day," He whispered, grinning when she snorted and leaned her head on his chest. "Imagine the things we could do with more than one."

"I'm more excited about the uses we can find for my heels, love," Hermione answered, lifting one of her legs in the air to have full vision of the black shoes. "Don't think I didn't realize how much you enjoyed it when I was almost stepping on your cock while you were sitting."

"Good, I wasn't trying to hide it," Harry answered, grinning, and turning his head to look at her. "Just the sound of your heels is enough to make my knees go weak, Hermione. I don't think you know how much I love it when you have to wear them to court."

"I definitely know now," She laughed, staring at her feet before dropping it back down into the ground, head leaning up to kiss at his jaw. "You know…"

"Yeah?" He breathed.

"Those defendant chairs on the courtrooms? They come with chains and everything," Hermione stated, voice too innocent for the type of sentence that she said. Harry swore he felt his heart skip a beat from the implications of it, and he found himself speaking in a rush.

"Your next trial is the last one scheduled that day, isn't it?" He asked, looking at her smirk as she sat up, stretching her arms up as high as they could go into the air before she sighed, dropping them and looking at him over her shoulder.

"It sure is."

Hermione's next trial was a rollercoaster, and not in the good way.

Harry and Proudfoot were joined by four other Aurors as security for the courtroom only because the two criminals had proven themselves to be slippery and sadistic, and had injured their fair share of Aurors in the fight that ultimately led to their capture.

Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange squirmed on their defendants' chairs, the chains around them tightening with each movement as was the usual practice; their lawyer, a wizard on his fifties that looked as if he'd like nothing better than to leave the chamber, stuttered his way through the weakest defense that Harry had ever heard.

He stood behind Hermione's designated desk, wand in hand and eyes searching for any possible anger as his ears concentrated on the way his girlfriend tore every single excuse from the solicitor to pieces, calling for the criminals to be sent to Azkaban for life without the possibility of parole.

It seemed like a pretty open-and-shut case, and the black haired wizard knew that there was no way that the Lestrange pair would leave this room in anything but chains, so he waited with bated breath as Chief Warlock Doge stood up to deliver the sentencing only to be distracted by the door banging open.

He turned around, hand tense, but confusion overtook him as he spied two French Aurors—deep blue robes and silver shirts identifying them as such—walking forth as the heels of the blonde haired witch behind them echoed ominously through the chamber.

He traded a look with Proudfoot, finding the older wizard shrugging as the members of the Council murmured around them. The Chief Warlock paused, staring at the three foreign wizard before his voice rumbled through the room.

"Madam Dupont," He started, and Harry could see the frown marring the elderly wizard's face as he continued to speak. "I'm afraid I must insist that you and your party wait outside until this trial is over."

"I deeply apologize for the way I've interrupted this process," Dupont stated, walking forward until she was standing right next to Hermione, facing the Council. "But I needed to arrive here before you send these two to Azkaban, because the French Ministry is looking to prosecute them as well to the full extent of the law."

The murmurs grew as the occupants of the seats in the courtroom turned to each other; the Lestrange pair hissed, increasing their squirming until the chains were forced to press them as hard as they could into the chair, completely eroding their erratic movements.

"If that's the case," Doge answered. "Then feel free to leave your files with Prosecutor Granger and we'll postpone the sentencing for tomorrow, to give her time to go over the crimes you're looking to sentence them for."

"You misunderstand me, Chief Warlock," The French woman answered. "I'm not here to simply give you the files and hope for you to come through. I'm here to oversee the case and make sure your sentencing is appropriate."

Before the leader of the Council could answer, a French Auror moved forward with his wand; Harry and his coworkers tensed in reflex, but their eyes followed the single sheet of paper the foreign Auror had floated up to the Chief Warlock's podium.

Doge read through the notice quickly, frowning deeply before sighing. He dropped the paper, massaging his temples slightly before addressing the still silent prosecutor.

"It's the direct order of the Minister that our friends from France take over this case," He stated.

Behind Hermione, Harry could see the way her shoulders tensed and her demeanor seemed to change just enough for him to realize; she still looked as polite and deadly as she usually did on the courtroom, but there was a heaviness to her body as she listened closely to her instructions, and he knew it was due to the fact that there was a personal element to sending the Lestrange pair to prison, and she had been denied of such thing for the time being.

"You'll still be our prosecutor from our side," Doge rushed to assure. "But Madam Dupont is the head of the case now. You're to report to and get your instructions from her, Prosecutor Granger. The Council will meet again in three days to deliver the sentencing, so the trial is postponed until then."

"Yes, Chief Warlock," Hermione answered, her voice perfectly calm as the wizards and witches of the Council started to leave their seats, and then everything happened too quickly.

Harry's glasses reflected light for a second, from unknown origin, and his first instinct and job was to protect Hermione; he dived, pulling her to the ground as a spell flew by, and the Chamber descended into chaos.

The Aurors jumped into action with help from their French counterparts, and the black haired wizard made sure that Hermione was uninjured and waited until she conjured a shield around her before joining the fight; Bellatrix had somehow gotten loose from her chains, and had taken an Auror's wand from them. Her wide eyes danced madly over her surroundings, throwing curses left and right as the Aurors closed in on her.

There was no hope for her, and she must've know, because the next few seconds happened quickly; Harry ran, dodging curses, but his journey to the criminals got sidetracked as he spied Madam Dupont's Auror guard fall to a particularly nasty spell. The black haired man turned to the side and towards the witch, who was deflecting the curses as faster as she could, wand dancing unsteadily on the air.

Just before a purple, blazing light hit her, Harry's wand moved as he summoned her belt towards him, and the older witch flew through the air quickly before colliding with his body; he grunted, spinning to the side to minimize the impact as he and the French woman stumbled to the ground.

He ignored the pained sounds coming from her as he got up, eyes on the gruesome scene. The fight was done, Bellatrix bound in tight chains and pressed to the ground as Aurors tried to revive her husband, the one that she had, apparently, killed right before she was apprehended again. Harry cursed under his breath, making a mental note to find out just how such a dangerous criminal had gotten the best of them in mere seconds.

He stood behind as the other Aurors took the mad witch out of the courtroom, supervising the process and signaling for Proudfoot to gather their coworkers in the Auror Office break room for a chat; as the damage was being fixed by the members of the Council, he jogged towards his girlfriend, relieved that she was only surprised from the turn of events.

"Are you okay?" He still felt the needed to ask her, eyes racking down her body for any kind of injury that he might've missed in the chaos of the fight as his hand poised themselves on her shoulders.

"I'm fine," Hermione answered, looking slightly shaken from the event. She grabbed his hands, pulling them off of her and squeezing comfortingly before kissing his knuckles, keeping her grip on one of them as she turned to make her way towards the entrance of the chamber.

"What happened?" She asked, threading her fingers in his, frowning deeply as her eyes stared for a second at the still body still bound to the defendant's chair.

"I don't know," Harry confessed, gritting his teeth. "Somehow she got close enough to grab Williamson's wand, but I'll make sure to have a chat with him about getting too close to a criminal."

"I'll speak with Savage," Hermione answered, her steps speeding as she stared straight ahead of her. "I won't have Bellatrix inside of these walls after what she pulled. She's going back to Azkaban, and I'll make damn sure she doesn't leave her cell even for the trial."

"I'm afraid that's not possible, Miss Granger."

Madam Dupont's voice stopped them just before crossing the entrance of the chamber; both wizard and witch turned around, hands still clasped on each other's as the other witch stopped right in front of them.

"Julia Dupont, Head Prosecutor of the Bureau de la Justice Magique," She offered, thrusting her hand. Hermione let go of his hand to answer the gesture as she introduced herself, followed by him.

The other witch peered at them through her rimless glasses, as if analyzing them deeply before speaking again. "You and I both know that, as much as we hate it, the defendant must be present during the trial under the fairness of the law."

Hermione sighed, her frown deepening slightly as she answered. "The law provides us with safe measures for this kind of situations. We can have a trial without Bellatrix Lestrange being physically present inside of this halls. That, I believe, will be much safer than a repeat of today."

"Still, I must insist and order that such thing be disregarded," Julia stated. "This is a big, big case, Miss Granger. I can't have people crying injustice or trying to get another trial if we do anything outside of the ordinary. I…know of your personal history with the criminal witch, and I hate to do this, but I feel the need to remind you of my temporal power over this case."

"That's not necessary," The bushy haired witch answered, her jaw clenching visibly. "I understand you've been ordered to take over, and I can assure you that my personal history with Bellatrix Lestrange will not cloud my judgment."

"Good, good," The French woman nodded, smiling at her before her attention as diverted to the still quiet Auror right next to Hermione, reaching out a hand to squeeze at his forearm. "And thank you, Mister Potter, for that save a few moments back."

"It's my job," Harry shrugged, side eyeing her fingers until she let go.

"And you're good at it," Julia answered, turning to Hermione. "Is there a place we can talk in private? I need to go over all of the details of our charges against Mrs. Lestrange."

"We can talk in my office," The bushy haired witch answered, nodding at the entrance and gifting Harry a smile as she left the chamber.

The wizard stood there, sighing as he turned towards the only two Aurors left as they took care of the body, and decided that he could leave them alone while he tracked down Williamson to figure out how he had been daft enough to have his wand taken in the middle of a trial.

It became quite clear that Hermione didn't like Julia Dupont over the two days.

There was nothing outwardly about it, but Harry knew her all too well; she always had that same tense expression every time the French prosecutor asked something of her, and he had even been witness to an argument between the two of them after Madam Dupont had made the decision to drop one of the British Ministry's charges against Bellatrix.

"There isn't enough to convict her for that," Dupont had argued, dismissing Hermione with a wave of her hand. "And you know that."

"There isn't enough because we need reasonable suspicion for our Aurors to investigate it further," The bushy haired witch stated, looking at the other woman in disbelief. "We have more than reasonable suspicion, she practically confessed—"

"—she's mad, Miss Granger," Julia interjected, going back to reading her files. "She'd say about anything at the moment. She's going down, and she knows it."

"She talked about torturing a family using long lost magic! You can't just dismiss this charge, Julia," Hermione argued.

"I just did."

Harry frowned deeply as he watched his girlfriend take a deep breath, controlling her temper before she left the improvised office of the French woman, and he gripped the cup of coffee he was holding on his hand and glaring at the older witch as she caught his eye and waved; he felt a jolt of discomfort running through his spine, immediately thinking about the way Julia had asked him out so boldly in front of his coworkers and Hermione.

It had been awkward, and embarrassing, as she insisted three times before he had to very explicit and tell her that Hermione was his girlfriend, but it had been so very worth it when the bushy haired witch pulled him into her office to learn more about the kind of knots his tie was capable of making.

He believed it also must've been the way that Dupont seemed to be everywhere when they wanted time alone. There had been no less than four instances in which Harry and Hermione had been in a compromising position and the French woman had interrupted them for something or other, asking something from either of them for the case. The latest one had been the worst of them all, because the blonde witch had arrived while he was fully inside of his girlfriend, tie around his mouth and enjoying the way Hermione had been marking his neck, but the insistent knock on the door had forced them to stop suddenly.

The situation reached a high point as he and Hermione were taking the lift down to the courtroom for a small, petty criminal's trial for thievery. As always, he was her designated Auror for her cases and they had been in the middle of making dinner plans for their anniversary next week before Head Auror Robards and Madam Dupont stopped them.

"Potter," Robards nodded at him, signaling to Julia. "You're relieved of courtroom duty for today, Williamson is going to be Granger's Auror guard while you accompany Madam Dupont to gather evidence at Azkaban."

"But—Williamson?" Harry asked, frowning, trading a confused look with the bushy haired witch. "What?"

"I'm not going to send a foreign employee to Azkaban without protection, and there's a one guard rule for visitors," Robards answered, looking expectantly at him.

Harry didn't want to go, and he was very clear about that.

"She has her own Aurors," He argued, not caring how rude he might've looked. "There's two of them, have one of them go with her."

"It needs to be you," His boss stated, irritation shining on his eyes. "That's an order, Potter."

He didn't understand why, but Hermione's brain had always worked faster than his, and as he turned to look at her again he stared at her narrowed eyes, poised directly on the other witch.

"You can take one of your Aurors, I know they're more than capable," Hermione stated, addressing her fellow prosecutor. "Why did you ask for Harry?"

"I feel safer with him, of course," Julia answered, shrugging her shoulders, uncaring. "My Auror guard fell almost immediately to the attack and Auror Potter came forward. It's natural of me to want the best, isn't it?"

He wanted to argue more, and it must've shown, because Robards suddenly pulled him close by the collar of his robes to address him quietly. "I don't like the fact that she can orders us around like this anymore than you do, Potter, but it's from the Minster himself and I'll be damned if he cuts our budget just because I didn't follow his orders. Go with her. Granger will be fine with Williamson."

"But—"

"—remember that I only let you work on courtroom duty with your girlfriend because I know you're a very capable and professional Auror, but if you keep fighting me on this I will pull you off of it permanently," His boss muttered.

"You're really pulling that card on me, aren't you?" Harry hissed. "Fine, but next time you come to me because of a hard case that a personal friend of yours or the Minister needs solved, you can expect me to tell you to shove the case file up your arse."

Without another word, and with the full knowledge that he'd go through with his promise, he kissed Hermione on the lips, turning his back to their two companions; he smiled into her lips as he felt her hand snaked down, gripping the front of his pants in a silent promise for when he returned, and one he was very eager to explore.

He got into the lift with a hard expression, not even turning to look at the witch next to him as his eyes stayed on Hermione's form as the metal artifact suddenly moved upwards, already wishing for this task to be over.

It felt like forever before Julia had gotten what she needed from Azkaban, and they had made the journey back as quick as they could; when they entered the Atrium, he didn't even wait to let her finish her sentence before he was already walking rapidly towards the first available lift.

The reason for his desperation was simple: his erection had been straining against his uniform ever since Hermione's otter had appeared on Azkaban to deliver an important development of the case, and to whisper the very things she wanted to do to and with him after he returned. He had to button up the front part of his robes to keep the tent from being noticeable, but the images that the message had conjured were burned on his mind.

Harry walked quickly through the rows upon rows of Auror cubicles, stopping at Robards' bigger workspace to drop a long note on his desk before making his way to the back of the department to arrive at the offices of the prosecutors; Hermione, being the best they had on the Ministry at this point in time—and ever, he was sure of that—had the biggest and most private office of them all, and it was with excitement that he twisted the doorknob and entered quickly, casting charms and everything before he regarded her.

She was sitting on her desk, piles of files around the surface of it; her formal jacket had been disposed of, sitting on the back of her chair innocently and her white button up shirt had been rolled up at her elbows. He walked closer, already shedding his deep red robes as her gaze followed him.

"How was it?" Hermione asked, leaning back into her chair.

"Terrible," He answered, scoffing and moving to lean against the side of her desk, facing down on her; his shirt was already halfway unbuttoned and his belt had been disposed of, but he had stopped the moment the bushy haired witch had addressed him. "You know I hate that place, full of misery and hopelessness…I can't believe Robards made me go after I've spent all my Auror career avoiding it."

"Are you okay? Did something happen with the dementors?" She asked, leaving her chair to stand before him and massage his shoulders comfortingly; she dropped a loving kiss on his nose before he shook his head.

"No, it's was fine…as fine as it could be," Harry sighed. "But there's only one witch in heels that I want to be stuck with and that's you."

Hermione hummed, frowning and moving her hands to encase his face, caressing his cheeks. "She's still on that, then?"

"You have no idea," He answered, raising his eyebrows in disbelief and he pulled her closer by the waist. "She kept making comments and trying to let me take her to dinner…I had to be very blunt to get her to stop, by Merlin."

"How blunt?" The bushy haired witch asked, looking nonchalant, but he spied the eager glint on her eyes and he smirked, asking the question that he had been thinking of asking for the past two days.

"Are you jealous, love?"

Hermione scoffed slightly, turning her head to the side to avoid his gaze, but her eyebrows pulled down after a moment and she turned back towards him to answer. "I guess I am."

"You guess?"

"You know I dislike jealousy," She answered shrugging her shoulder once. "But I do have to admit that something has felt off ever since the whole incident in front of the department."

He winced slightly. "Wild day, that one."

"And asking specifically for you on the Azkaban assignment? Knowing that she was going to be harassing you all the way?" Hermione ranted, leaving his embrace to pace for a short moment before addressing him again. "I'm going to Robards—I don't care that she's the Minister's friend or whatever, she doesn't have a right to be constantly crossing a professional line after you've told her no several times."

"Way ahead of you," Harry answered. "I wrote a very strong worded letter to Robards while she was doing whatever she was doing, and asked him that Dupont stay away from me for the remainder of the case, or I'll go to his superior"

"Madam Bones?" Hermione wondered out loud, calming down. "She'd be merciless with him if she finds out he bent to the Minister's will without consulting with her first."

"I know, I made sure to drop that sentence on there," He stated. "I can't take any more of Dupont's questions, but I had my petty fun."

"Did you?" The bushy haired witch asked, her anger bleeding out of her as she returned to his arms.

"I had to, or I would've gone crazy," Harry nodded, leaning forward to kiss at her neck. "But she now knows that my favorite place to spend time is between your thighs."

She snorted softly, looking down at him with mischief on her eyes. "That's how blunt you had to be?"

"Yes, and that's what finally made her stop for at least five minutes," He shook his head. "And that's when your very cute otter draped itself on my shoulders to whisper things into my ears. Very creative, I must say."

"Hmm, did you like it?" Hermione asked, running her hands through his hair. "I wasn't sure she was going to stay long enough to deliver everything, but by the flush on your cheeks it seems she did her job."

"Too well, I'd say," Harry confessed. "I was hard all the way back just thinking about it."

"Well, we have to do something about that, don't we?"

Their lips met, crashing against each other violently as her fingers tugged on his hair and digging into the nape of his neck. They moved in tandem, Hermione walking back and to the side until the back of her legs hit the edges of her swivel chair and she let herself drop down on it.

Harry followed her mouth, prepared to kneel down and show her just how much he had missed her—

A quick knock on the door interrupted them before Julia's voice rumbled, calling for Hermione.

Both of them groaned, horny and exasperated with the woman outside, and Hermione sighed heavily as she righted her shirt and looked at him through disappointed eyes.

"I better talk to her to see what she needs," She stated, huffing softly. "Where are your robes?"

He pointed lazily towards the other side of the desk, shoulders slumping at the missed opportunity of pleasuring her, but his eyes zeroed in on the space beneath the desk, barely big enough to fit a person, and an idea lodged itself into his brain.

His wand moved, casting the expansion charm that Hermione had taught him before turning to her, spying the confused look that she gifted him.

"She doesn't have to know," He said, as if that was enough information, and for Hermione it was; she caught onto his meaning immediately, and her cheeks flushed red as she swallowed, eyes shining with lust.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked, eyes moving between the hole beneath the desk and himself as another knock echoed through her office.

"There's nothing else I want right now than to eat you out," Harry answered. "And I know you're getting wet just thinking about having me down there while you speak with her."

His girlfriend nodded quickly. "I am, but I'm not going to ask that of you if you're not comfortable with it."

"I am, I promise," Another knock, more insistent this time, and he dived underneath the desk as Hermione sat down on her chair, rolling it until she was positioned with her legs on either side of him.

"Are you sure?" She asked for the last time, and he nodded excitedly.

"Very…though I'd like for you to keep your heels on, if possible."

Hermione grinned down at him, shuffling on her seat. "Of course. I wore your favorites today."

His breath hitched as his head turned to the side, staring at the higher heels she owned, brown leather and thin straps crossing each other on top of her feet. He saw her legs move and the light inside the desk decreased as she straightened her back and sat as normally as she could with a man between her legs.

Harry got to work, tugging her skirt upwards—thank Merlin she had an habit of wearing them to work, and perhaps she did just for this—to leave it on her hips as he pulled down her knickers; just as he wiggled them off of her feet, he heard the door open and knew that their little adventure had just begun.

He didn't care to listen to their conversation; her thighs flexing and wounding over his shoulders as he dived head first into her heat was enough to diminish his attention only to her. His tongue reached out, and there was a sense of calm washing over him at finally doing what he had wanted to do for the last couple of hours. He was merciless, working the movements that he knew she loved and being grateful that, apparently, their debate and the papers ruffling were enough to mask the wet sounds that his mouth released.

Harry had to give it to her; as much as he wasn't concentrating on their argument, he listened closely to her voice, to catch any hitches or moans that might escape her mouth but her control was solid. Her voice had only broken slightly at the end as his fingers made an appearance, entering her as his tongue traveled up in search for her clit, but she had regained her cool demeanor afterwards and the only indication that she was enjoying herself was the way her voice grew breathy.

He closed his eyes, losing himself on the pleasurable activity as her thighs tightened around his head and her walls clamped around his fingers; he wondered if this was doing it for her: having him on his knees with his head between her legs, pleasuring her in front of another, oblivious person—

One of her heels moved, caressing down on his back as he startled at the feel of the sharp point, his pants growing tight at the sensation. He pulled his head back, taking a quiet, big breath and licking his lips—

The scrape of a chair was heard, and a hand grabbed him by his hair, moving him back into her heat and pressing his head against it as her hips bucked against his tongue four times before she let go. Her thighs moved to encase him so tightly that he had to drop his hand, and his mouth concentrated on sucking and licking that little knob of pleasure that would let him give her what she wanted.

She had been talking when her orgasm hit; he knew she had reached her climax when her legs seized, crushing his head against her for a second before letting go and dropping to the side. His eyes, through crooked and bent glasses, spied the way her muscles contracted for several moments as her voice stopped altogether, no doubt trying to keep her moans inside her chest.

Julia's voice ranged, probably asking her what was wrong, but Harry heard his girlfriend's voice—breathy, husky—dismiss the occurrence and ask something. He moved back in, doing what he always did and loved to do and cleaned her off with his tongue dutifully. When it was done, he leaned his head against her thigh and waited until the other prosecutor left.

Harry thought he'd wait quietly, but Hermione's legs moved and before he knew it, one of her soles was pressing down on the tent at the front of his pants; he startled softly at the touch, cock throbbing and teeth gritting to stop the moan that threatened to leave him as she pressed into his erection.

Her heel moved, pressing down on his zipper and wiggling it, and his hands rushed to pull it down and undo his button, tugging his pants and briefs down harshly as his cock bounced free. He stayed there, waiting, watching with rapt attention as both her heels got closer and closer.

A shudder went through his spine at the first touch of leather on his naked cock, increasing as her feet encased it form either side and moved up; torturously slow, they stopped at his head and squeezed slightly before dragging down, the texture of the leather making his cock throb painfully as his hand gripped his knees, nails digging into the fabric.

His eyes closed and his jaw tightened, only allowing for small, shallow breaths to leave his mouth as she continued her ministrations; he felt his belly contract, heat building in, and he was momentarily surprised at how little he was going to last before he remembered that he had been pitching said tent for longer than he cared to admit, and his mouth on her had only extrapolated the feeling.

Her heels moved slightly faster, always careful of not letting her soles touch his naked cock or press against it too harshly, only relaying on the skin on the top of her feet and the leather straps around it to work him up to his climax, and it only took another couple of fast, rough tugs before it arrived.

He bit his tongue, a hand grabbing the closest heel as his other moved to pump his cock faster, and pressing it against her foot when he felt the rush of pleasure signaling his orgasm; he spilled directly on top of it, coating it on his come with each throb that passed as he grunted as quietly as he could.

Before long, the tension that had accumulated on his body left and he leaned back, hand leaving her feet to rest against the wooden floor and support his weight as he caught his breath. He was in the middle of wondering how long Julia was going to take to leave when he felt leather against his lips.

His eyes opened, looking down on the tip of her heel that was pressing against his mouth insistently, smearing some of his come on it before his lips parted open; one of his hands moved to grasp at her foot, keeping it still as his tongue strained to lick at every drop of the mess he had made, trying to slither in between the straps and her skin and making sure that it was as clean as it had been before.

He swallowed, releasing it slowly to the ground as he wiped his mouth, but the sound of heels clicking away and the door slamming closed made him perk up. Hermione chair rolled back, allowing him to crawl out of the space quickly as she reached out to grab him by the collar of his shirt.

She tugged, and he followed, being received with a breathtaking kiss that made his post-orgasm mind swim.

"I take it you liked it?" He asked, voice rough as he leaned back into her desk contently.

"I loved it," Hermione breathed. "It has to be the hottest thing we've ever done behind office walls, and that'ssaying something."

"Maybe," Harry shrugged, his mind going over to one particular thing that they hadn't been able to do yet. "But we can outdo ourselves, I think."

"After what you did, love, I'll do anything you want," She answered, sighing in pleasure as she crossed her legs over one another, smiling at him.

"Did you ever figured out how the chains on the chairs work?" He blurted out, red flush on his cheeks. "Because I'm very interested in knowing."

"I did," Hermione confessed, licking her lips. "I know all about them now, and I also know that our trial has been moved up one hour, leaving that gap of time in which it'll be unoccupied and open for us."

"Really?" Harry wondered, absently tucking his soft cock back into his briefs and righting his pants.

"Hmm, what is it that you want?"

"I like the fact that those chains tighten each time somebody moves," He admitted, swallowing. "And I also like the fact that there's something we can bring from home to have some fun around here."

"Something?" Hermione murmured, frowning, and the black haired wizard cupped his crotch as a clue; she flushed, red tint completely taking over her tanned skin as she stared at him. "Really?"

"You sound like me," He teased, his own blush on his face. "But really...yes, I want that."

"Then you'll have it," She breathed, gazing at him with a mixture of love and lust, and he laughed softly, going over to kiss her goodbye as he searched for his wand to clean himself up.

As he left her office, his skin couldn't stop tingling at the thought of what awaited for him the very next morning.

The courtroom was deserted when they came in, as they knew it would be. Their footsteps echoed through the chamber as they made their way to their target: the defendant's chair, sitting innocently and looking as any other plain, wooden chair with thick armrests and a high back.

Harry blew out a breath, his mind unable to think beyond the wetness that rushed out of his arsehole with each step he took, a reminder of the preparation that he and Hermione had gone through right before leaving for work. As they stopped right in front of the chair, both of them swung their wands around the room, dispelling whatever covert charms that could be in place to listen in on the room, or any type of surveillance that would alert of their presence.

Behind them, the door closed slowly and glowed for a second, signaling the use of a strong locking charm to insure their privacy for the time being. He stared at the chair, head tilting to the side as he thought over the magic of it, and how such an innocent looking artifact was about to leave him at the mercy of the woman behind him.

He felt her arms wounding around his waist, hugging him, and he shuddered in excitement at the feeling of the bulge pressing into his backside through the fabric of his uniform.

"You okay?" Hermione asked, head leaning against the back of his shoulders as her hands moved, massaging his belly.

"Never better," He murmured, grabbing her hands. "I'm just wondering where you want me."

A shaky sigh left her mouth as she squeezed his fingers, leaving their grasp and moving down to grasp at his belt; she undid it quickly, letting it hang around his hips instead of taking it completely off.

"You have the bottle?" She asked, moving to undo his button and pull down the zipper, fingers resting on the edges of his briefs were a very noticeable tent was waiting for attention.

He reached into his breast pocket, taking out a medium sized bottle full of clear liquid that he handed to her, looking over his shoulders for a second to smile at her. She stepped away from him after having the bottle in her hands, rolling it on her fingers as her gaze danced between her boyfriend and the wooden chair.

Harry raised his arms, waiting, and his breathing picked up when the bushy haired witch grabbed one of his wrists; she tugged gently, and he followed her lead until his hand was hovering over one of the armrests. He found her gaze, and he knew that she was going to ask for his consent again; he pressed his wrist against the armrest, and chains were conjured out of nowhere that wound around his arm and the part of the chair he was currently touching, holding his arm in place and tightening every time he moved his limb.

"I'm ready," He said, shaking his other arm and moving it towards her.

He loved seeing her face change; her eyes would still soften every time they looked at him, but they hardened in lust and determination when she'd take charge of him, and he swooned. She took his other arm, quickly pressing it into the other armrest and he sighed as chains stopped him from moving.

He was facing the back of the chair, nose almost touching the wood as his arms wiggled softly until they could move no more, metal squeezing skin and upper body bent to find a comfortable position. His knees buckled slightly, and his feet shuffled backwards until he felt that the angle was enough.

Her hands appeared on his backside, grabbing onto the edges of his pants and briefs before pulling them off slowly. They dragged on until she had them rest against his mid-thigh, his cock free and cold air making him shudder as it made contact with the wetness around his arsehole.

They had done all the preparation before coming in to work because the time of the courtrooms was always fickle, prone to change so much that they didn't want to be trapped in the middle of their foreplay before they had to present themselves before the Council. They hadn't even shown themselves on their Department, taking the lift directly down as they counted the minutes down with their watches.

Two fingers entered his hole, and he closed his eyes as he tried to relax his muscles, aided by her fingers moving slowly, bending and unbending inside of him before leaving.

His shirt rode up, along with his deep red robes, Hermione pushing them aside as she racked her hands over his back, nails digging into skin as he breathed shallowly, his hands tightening into fists. His head turned to look over his shoulder as best as he could, witnessing as the bushy haired witch looked down on her crotch and her hands gripped something that he couldn't quite see, but knew thoroughly.

"Did you…Do I have to be quiet?" He asked, breathless.

She turned her head up, meeting his gaze, and a smile framed her face as she answered. "Not this time, love. I put a silencing charm in here. You can scream all you want."

She pushed her hips forward, and he felt the head of her strap on starting to push against his hole; his chest stuttered, and he turned back to his previous position to stare at the dark wood of the back of the chair as she worked the toy inside of him. He gritted his teeth, a moan leaving his mouth as the head passed through. She was so gentle, reading his cues as the artificial cock slowly but surely started to fill him in the most delicious way possible.

Hermione bottomed out after a moment, and he released a breath as she stopped her movements, draping her upper body over his to deposit a kiss on the back of his neck, hands massaging his torso.

"How are we doing?" She murmured lovingly.

Harry breathed harshly, biting his lip before answering. "Good. Very good."

"Can I move?"

"Please."

Her first thrust was deep and slow, her thighs slapping against his arse in a sound that echoed throughout the chamber. He swallowed, moaning loudly as his head turned back, wanting to see her behind him but unable to as she bounced forward, her movements growing faster. He whined, frowning, and suddenly the back of the chair stopped being wood, replaced by a reflective surface.

He felt his cock throb at the image; his face was the closes thing reflected, close enough to fog up the mirror-like surface as his eyes wandered up, meeting hers as she started to fuck him again. He groaned, arms moving uselessly against the chains that would most likely leave very red marks on his skin, though he couldn't find it in himself to care at the moment.

Her nails dug on his hips, keeping leverage on them as her hips started to move quicker than before, and Harry wished he had at least one hand free to give some attention to his hard, bouncing cock as Hermione made his body tremble underneath her. He saw one of her arms move, and felt nails barely caressing his skin as they travel upwards until he felt a tug on his hair.

Without stopped her increasingly faster movements, she grabbed a ton of his locks and pulled up, dragging his hair and making him lean his head backwards, losing the sight of the reflected image as her thrusts slowed down, only to gain power as she bottomed out constantly. He groaned pleasurably, his nails digging onto his palms as strangled moan after strangled moan left his mouth, increased by the fact that her other hand moved from his hip and to his cock, squeezing.

Suddenly, right as he thought that his orgasm would wash over him, a white dash distracted them; a paper airplane stopped right before Hermione, unfurling itself and floating until the bushy haired witch grabbed it. Harry breathed harshly, glaring at the paper from over his shoulder as the heat on his belly started to receded slowly.

"It's a good thing we came prepared," Hermione said calmly, addressing him. "Because the trial just changed time."

"When?" He breathed, almost afraid of the answer, wishing for the cock halfway inside of him to move again and let him release.

"In ten minutes," She answered, sighing.

Harry nodded as best as he could, his hair still being tugged on as he smiled mischievously. "I hope ten minutes is enough?"

"I can make you come in three," Hermione answered, right before her hips rammed forward; he grunted, feeling her nails digging into her scalp as her other hand returned to pleasure him, moving up and down so quickly that he admired the fact he hadn't climaxed yet—

She returned to powerful thrusts, still keeping a somewhat fast rhythm, and he groaned and moan at the combined sensations of everything he was feeling, aware of the layer of sweat that permeated his body and the tension that was accumulating on his lower belly—

Hermione knew he was close, so close, she must've known, because the toy left his arse until the tip was barely inside of him, only for her to thrust forwards quickly and with power, and he finally gave in to the mounting pressure. His cock throbbed, releasing as he shuddered and moaned incoherently, and his legs trembled and stumbled underneath him.

His knees bent slightly, almost as if they were going to give up on him, but Hermione quickly moved to steady them as he worked through his orgasm, and it took him several moments to regain his breathing and energy enough to stand back on his own. He felt her retract from him, slowly and carefully, artificial cock popping out of his hole as he grunted.

Her hands caressed his back, and she whispered loving words that he tried to comprehend through his mind that was dazed in pleasure; the chains around his arms disappeared, allowing him to right himself up with her help as he shuddered at the feeling of lube running down his ass and into the floor beneath, most likely drenching his uniform pants.

He was about to search for his wand, to clean his mess, but as he gazed at the mess of come that he had left on the chair in front of him, it vanish in a second before he felt the lube suddenly drying out. Her hands grabbed his pants, pulling them up as he fumbled with the button and the zipper, struggling to put on his belt properly as he turned around on unsteady legs.

Hermione had taken the strap on off, shrinking it and placing it nonchalantly on the inner pocket of her jacket as she regarded him; her eyes racked over his body in a very familiar way: the one that searched for any type of injury after a mission, and he walked forwards towards her to capture her lips onto his own as a way of reassuring her.

"That was hot," He stated right after they separated, righting his shirt. "I'm actually mad that they moved the trial."

"Me too," She hummed, frowning, pressing her skirt as a way of getting rid of the few crinkles that had appeared on it during their lovemaking. "But I had a feeling it was going to happen. It was fun while it lasted, though."

"It sure was, and I'm adding it to my list of things we need to repeat in the future," Harry said, taking out his wand to grab it lazily as he followed his girlfriend to the prosecutor's desk, absently smoothing out the crinkles on his sleeves that were caused by the chains.

They had assumed their expected positions just before the door—now without their charms—opened and the members of the Council entered, followed by Madam Dupont and the Aurors carrying the bound Bellatrix, and Harry spared one second to think about what they had been doing just moments before inside this very room, feeling his cheeks flushing. He reveled on the memory until everything was ready to begin, and left his wild imagination for another time as the trial began.

Harry hadn't seen Hermione for six weeks. It had been the longest amount of time they had spent apart since they started dating, and he could feel himself missing her more and more every day that passed, and the ring on his pocket had started to weight heavily; the fact that he was risking his wellbeing on a dangerous mission across boarders made him even more determined to keep his fifteen minute break each night to call her on their two way mirrors.

She had teased him for his scruffy beard and hair that now reached to his ears, a necessary look for his undercover work that had been the result of a hair growing potion, but he knew—she had joked about it more times than usual, always with a glint of something mischievous and lustful as he tried to keep the dark locks away from his face, and it came down to a point where he'd take a shower just before calling her to enjoy the way her eyes trailed all over the wild, wet hair.

They couldn't talk about the things they wanted to do after the mission was over—not completely, at least, but Hermione had made sure to tell him on their last call to keep that style on for a few more days; her mirror had been propped in such a way that he saw her hands clenched around her quill, and he knew that his hair's strength would be tested by her pulling in the near future.

And then, the end of the mission came, and they had managed to corner Mallory and his men after those long, six weeks of undercover work, and the only thing that they needed to do now was to take them back into British soil, right where Hermione was waiting with an incriminatory file so thick that the criminals would never see the light of day again.

It was a matter of the utmost urgency, as specified by Robards; the criminals had already slipped through Aurors' hands four times before, and so Harry and his team had secured Mallory and his men and traveled back into their jurisdiction with the bare minimum of breaks, sweating and muscles protesting from the fight and the subsequent travel. It took them only two hours, but when the green fire died down and Harry found himself in the DMLE's holding cell fireplace, a wave of relief passed through him.

It must've been funny—it was, for him; several employees and other fellow Aurors had a shocked expression on their face as his team led the five detainees across the floor and into the courtrooms, probably surprised by the looks of his team: bloodied bandages, barely healed bruises and ripped robes were the overall appearance of every one of his coworkers, including him. He caught no less than three people murmuring as their eyes followed them, but the man that Harry had been in charge of started tugging insistently, and the black haired wizard was forced to focus his attention solely on keeping the criminal contained.

When they entered the courtroom, he felt his shoulders relax. Several Hit Wizards had been called for extra security, walking around the room in their deep grey robes and with their wands ready. Harry walked forward, finally taking a deep, relieved breath as Mallory and his friends were put under the chains of the magical chairs, and he turned around to connect eyes with Hermione.

She was standing in front of her desk, dressed in her usual attire that was reserved for long court battles: white, button shirt, black dress pants, and her blazer, which was now strewn across the back of her chair.

She looked beautiful, she always did, but after six weeks of not seeing her in person, his chest warmed and stuttered as he walked forward towards her.

Just before he reached her, his eyes moved across the seats of the Council; Doge was still absent, most likely on his way, and that gifted him precious few minutes to greet his girlfriend before he was forced out of the courtroom.

"Hey," Harry whispered, wanting nothing more than to lose himself on her, mentally lamenting the fact that he'd have to wait more to greet her properly due to the way they had to maintain professionalism in front of the Council.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked, hand traveling to hover over the bandage that went diagonally from his left shoulder to just above his hip, wounding around his belly.

"It's worse than it looks," The wizard answered, shrugging. "I'm pretty sure it stopped bleeding a while ago. How are you?"

The bushy haired sighed, a smile blooming on her face. "Better now that you're here. I've miss you so much, love."

"I can stay," He offered, smirking when she huffed and shook her head.

"You need a shower and a nap, mister," Hermione answered, chuckling. "This should be no longer than two hours, three tops. Wait for me? Dinner together?"

Harry smiled, nodding and becoming aware of the Chief Warlock's entrance. "Only dinner?"

"If you're good and rest, I might have a little surprise for you," The witch whispered, leaning close. "You can use my office sofa, I put some extra charms in it to make it more comfortable."

If he leaned closer, he could kiss her—but he couldn't, not yet, so he settled on a soft smile and a quick squeeze of her hand. "I'll be waiting then."

"Shower and rest."

"Yes, ma'am."

One last smile was traded between them before he stepped back, walking out of the courtroom with his team of Aurors and into the lift that would take them up to their offices.

0o0o0o

He had barely gone through his shower due to the exhaustion that started to set in after leaving the courtroom. Harry had managed to enter Hermione's office undetected, and had thanked her in his mind as he laid down on her sofa, entering the realm of sleep moments later.

He didn't know how much time passed, but he started coming back into consciousness slowly, guided by the sound of ruffled papers and soft sighs; he concentrated on them as his eyes opened, narrowed at the assault of the light on them as he righted himself up. His bones popped and cracked in the most pleasurable way, and several groans left his mouth before a hand started to thread through his hair.

He looked up, finding Hermione smiling down at him as she stood in front of the sofa. With a content sigh, the wizard leaned back against the sofa. "How long was I out?"

"Three and a half hours," The witch answered, tone nonchalant as she kicked off her heels. In one swift motion, her knees came to rest on either side of his hips as she deposited herself on top of his lap, her skirt riding up and bundling at the top of her hips. "How are you feeling?"

Harry hummed, arms wounding around her waist to pull her closer. "Rested and ready for my surprise."

"You think you deserve it?"

"I showered, slept, and kept this scruffy look you seemed to like so much," He said, moving his head from side to side in a quick motion, his longer hair flying in all directions and blocking his sight as he stopped. "I think I do deserve it."

Her hands passed through his hair, pulling back and away from his face before they traveled down to his jaw, nails racking through his beard. "I do like it, and you dodeserve your surprise…problem is, love, that I don't know what do to first."

"Oh?"

"You see," Hermione sighed, shuffling in place and grinding down on him, igniting a response from him as the front of his pants started to feel tight. "I've really missed having you inside of me…but I've also been missing being inside of you."

"We can do both, take turns," Harry murmured quickly. "I can take it."

"I know you can, but can you take both of those at the same time?"

"Huh," He whispered, dumbly, leaning back to look at her face and try to discern of she was joking. There was no trace of untruthfulness coming from her, only a lustful and curious look as his eyebrow lifted slightly. "You…you have a way of doing that?"

"I do, straight out of the Department of Mysteries itself," Hermione answered, smirking. "Though, the question remains: are you up for it?"

"I am," He rushed out, swallowing. "How?"

"Look to your left."

He did as told, and his eyes widened exponentially at spying Hermione standing there: she was fully naked, her hair in a high bun and with the only thing resembling clothing being the purple strap on that they owned hanging comfortably from her hips. He took in the sight of her, his mind working through it as his head turned back to the woman on his lap and back to the woman standing next to him.

"Hermione? Is this…"

"Not polyjuice, or anything else close to it," The witch on his lap said, grinding down on him more. "She's all me, love, a conjuration meant to last for at least an hour."

"Did you clone yourself?" He blurted out just as the standing Hermione came closer, her hands threading through his wild hair and nails racking on his scalp.

"In the most basis terms, yes, I did," She answered, smirking widely. "I told them I'd test her durability, so I thought…what better way to test that than on your cock?"

Harry cleared his throat, his pants suddenly feeling extremely tight on him as the witch on his lap stood up, standing before him and being joined by—and he can't believe he's saying this—her clone.

"Are you up for it?" Both Hermiones asked in perfect synchronization, and for a moment he was worried that he would tell his real girlfriend apart from her conjuration, but he spied the brown leather heels on the woman that had just left his lap, and he nodded.

"You know I am," He said, standing up quickly as his hands flew to the buttons of his pants, undoing them quickly as he tried to wiggle out of them—

A set of hands stopped him, coming from the clone herself as his girlfriend gripped his chin, and his eyes followed the path of a very familiar piece of clothing as it made its way closer to his face. The first touch of the soft fabric of the tie made him shudder, and the hand that was pressing it against his skin raveled upwards until it was somehow on top of his eyes.

"I'm taking away your sight for today, love, but I promise you it'll be worth it," Hermione whispered, her voice husky. "What do you say?"

"Do it, please," He murmured, and the fabric left his face for a second before it was winding around his head; several tugs later, it was sufficiently tightened around his head, blocking his sight as the ends of it caressed the back of his neck.

"How much did you miss me?" Hermione asked softly, and with his sight gone all his other senses went into overdrive; he could feel her breath on his chin right before her lips descended upon his neck, kissing it softly.

"More than anything," He answered, tilting his head back.

"Hmm," Her hand moved, caressing his exposed chest—thank Merlin he took his nap half naked—as she continued to speak. "I missed you too, love…do you want to know how much?"

He nodded rapidly and whispered an affirmative response, and her lips left his neck in moments as the hand on his chest receded; another one poised itself at the back of his neck, gathering between her fingers several locks of hair and gripping them tightly. Underneath the sound of his own ragged breathing and his heartbeat thundering on his chest there was a peculiar, familiar sound—

It stopped suddenly, and he was left waiting in anticipation until there were three fingers pressed against his lips, warm and wet. He swallowed, immediately understanding what it was, and his mouth parted slowly; Hermione's fingers didn't wait, pushing through the gap between his lips as he closed them around her digits, dutifully licking away and tasting every single drop of her arousal.

He startled softly at the feeling of a hand cupping his erection through the fabric of his pants, but whatever surprised sound was about to leave his mouth was blocked by his girlfriend's fingers. The other witch—he needed a better name for her—worked on the button of his pants quickly, and it wasn't long before they were pulled down along with his briefs, freeing his erection. He was expecting the warmth of Hermione's mouth on it, but his head tilted slightly to the side in confusion when the hands left.

Suddenly, the fingers inside of his mouth left with a popping sound, leaving him with a trial of spit running from the side of his lips as the hand on his hair tightened considerably, pulling his hair forward. Hermione's lip touched his, feather light, as if she was testing the angle before they became hungry; she descended unto the kiss ferociously, colliding with him in rapid movements as her teeth made an appearance to bit at his lower lips. He gasped softly as she deepened the kiss, and he was too focused on it to notice the way her tugs were pulling his upper body forward.

He hummed, his mind registering two hands resting on his hips steadily, gripping his skin as his girlfriend pulled him even closer to her, forcing his upper body to bend forward as his lower half stood as before, leaving him in an angle that had become familiar in their bedroom and the office. The hand left the back of his head, moving to caress his face and run upwards, gathering the loose locks that hadn't been trapped by the tie around his head, eventually bunching them up and gripping them back inside her fingers. She tugged his head upwards and he obeyed, breaking out of the kissed with ragged breath and trembling hands, desperate to grasp onto something.

Her free hand grabbed at one of his wrist, and he instinctively knew she wanted him to push his hands together; he did so, smiling softly at the feel of yet another one of his ties—he had to keep buying them because they always seemed to go missing whenever he visited her—around his wrists, effectively tying them together. She pulled his limbs forward, bending him even lower until his torso hit a smooth, cool surface, tall enough to support him without forcing his knees to bend.

He felt hands prodding his legs, urging them to separate more, and the nails of the other witch moved to travel down from the middle of his back to his behind, squeezing the skin. He felt his cock throb in anticipation as his breathing picked up, and a small gasp broke through his lips at the feel of a wet, slippery finger prodding at his hole, sinking in and out slowly as she worked him.

The tie around his head was ripped away, and he blinked rapidly at the elevated light before his eyes settled on the woman in front of him; Hermione loosened the knot of the tie only enough to put it around her neck. She was fully naked now with only her heels, most likely shedding her clothes as her clone was busy with him, and was currently taking a seat in the floor right before the stool where he was currently resting.

"Are you going to be good for us?" Hermione asked, voice breathy as she leaned back into a pile of pillows that he was sure had to be conjured; her legs bent upwards and opened, gifting him the sight of her lower body completely exposed. As if copying her, his own legs moved a little further apart, being rewarded by a second finger inside of him.

Over his moan, his girlfriend continued to speak. "I was going to keep that tie around your eyes for more time, but this opportunity was too good for me to pass on. I hope you enjoy the show, love…and just in case you're wondering, there's a powerful silencing spell al around my office.

Harry swallowed, frowning a little bit, but his expression slackened slightly at the sight of Hermione's fingers moving down to between her legs, playing with her lips and eventually entering the very place he was longing to be in; she appeared to be performing for him, staring at him through half closed eyes and her fingers played with herself.

She was so wet, he could hear it, and he panted as he recognized the sound from before he was made to lick her fingers. Just at that thought finished processing on his mind, a third digit was added to his arse, and he groaned and grunted as they curled inside of him, as if testing his relaxation and readiness.

His cock throbbed almost painfully, begging for some attention as his girlfriend moaned loudly, her free hand moving up to play with her breasts as he stood there, unable to do anything but flex his hands in longing and moan as the woman behind him removed her fingers, only for them to be replaced with the tip of the plastic cock. Hands belonging to be conjuration of Hermione poised themselves on his head, gripping his hair and pulling up as leverage as the strap on started to penetrate him slowly.

He released incoherent sounds, between groaning and moaning, as the artificial cock made its way through his arse as it had done countless times before; his gaze fought to stay focused on the witch before him, but his neck was bent upwards and his eyes stuttered as the witch behind him pressed forward. One of her hands left his hair, still being gripped fiercely, to move through his back and down to his belly, ending up with finger around his cock.

She pumped it experimentally, his throat releasing a guttural sound as that movement combined with the cock behind him finally bottoming out. His chest heaved, working through the sensations one by one as his eyes shut completely when the witch's hips moved backwards, only to press forward again. He sighed unsteadily, still hearing Hermione's sounds of pleasure in front of his as the pace of the strap on started to increase slowly.

The hand on his hair dropped his head, allowing it to return to its previous position as her fingers released his erection, and he felt the front of her body press against his back as her hips continued to pound into him. Hermione, still lost on her own fingers as she worked herself into an orgasm, smirked at him as the man writhed beneath the other witch.

"You're taking it so good, love," The clone murmured, her voice an exact replica of his girlfriend's. "I'm going to give it to you harder until you start begging. That'll be such a nice sight for both of us."

Harry shuddered at the words, gasping softly as her hips started to increase their force and speed. His arousal was being pulled until two directions: the feeling of the cock inside of him hitting every spot that drove him crazy, and the sight of Hermione being on the cusp of her orgasm. His cock throbbed and his belly seemed to constrict on itself, the images and sounds being enough to stimulate him more and more without even touching his erection, and he wondered how much of a mess he was going to leave behind in moments.

Finally, in front of him, Hermione's toes curled as she threw her head back and moaned loudly, whispering his name as a wave of pleasure washed over her; his eyes stayed glued in between her legs, and he licked his lips at the sight of her hand fully covered in her arousal, wishing that it was his mouth covered in it.

He groaned, his body jerking forwards at a particularly hard thrust before the strap on stopped, fully inside of him. The witch behind did nothing but caress his back with both her hands as Hermione worked through her trembling muscles, standing up in slightly unsteady legs and walking forwards. He swallowed, breathing harshly as he stared up at her in anticipation, mouth hanging open.

Hermione's hand moved, gripping his chin and moving it up quickly; the wetness on her palm and fingers smeared across his jaw, soaking his beard and making him wish his tongue was long enough for him to taste it. She leaned down, kissing him fiercely for only few moments before she pulled back, smirking at him as her fingers moved, prying his mouth open and enjoying his tongue.

"The real fun begins now, love, how are you doing?" She murmured. He sighed in response, speaking incoherent words through her fingers as he nodded slightly. "Do you want it?"

He responded affirmatively, still unable to be understood from the digits blocking his mouth until she pulled them out, allowing him to breath shallowly as he nodded. "Yes—yes, please. I can take it."

"I know, I saw," She answered, and the cock on his arse suddenly moved to deliver another hard thrust, making him groan and bounce forward as Hermione threaded her fingers through his hair. "Here's what we're going to do, are you listening?"

He nodded, but the witch pulled his head up by the locks between her fingers and leaned down until she was centimeters away from his face, speaking softly. "I'm going to lay down on the floor and you're going to fuck me while she has her fun with your pretty little arse, are we clear?"

Harry nodded rapidly, words of acceptance spilling from his mouth in a quick succession, making the bushy haired witch sigh contently and deposit a soft kiss on his nose. "Good boy."

Hermione continued to smile at him as the surface beneath his torso vanished; he stumbled forward to be caught by the bushy haired witch, feeling the plastic cock leaving his arse as he kneeled on the floor, guided by his girlfriend. He breathed, watching her as she laid down on the floor and beckoned him with a finger, licking his lips when her legs parted to welcome him.

"I want to eat you out," He whispered.

"Dessert comes after, love," Hermione answered, smirking. "For now, try to earn it."

Harry nodded, crawling until his body was draped over hers; his hands, still tied, came to rest over her head as his knees shuffled, his cock grazing over her entrance. He sighed shakily, his hands flexing, trying to think of a way to enter her—

A hand closed around his erection, making him shudder in surprise as the witch behind him pressed his head against Hermione's entrance. A push against his bottom urged his hips to move forward, and he lost himself in the heat that engulfed his cock as he moved slowly.

Hermione's face was directly underneath him, farther than he was used to due to the way he needed to support his weight on his tied wrists, but he could still see it clearly; the way her mouth opened and her eyes closed for moments as he entered her, only to open with blazing desire as he bottomed out. He swallowed, hips grinding against her as he prepared to set a pace.

Two hands appeared and gripped his arse, separating the cheeks from each other as he felt the tip of the plastic cock against his hole. He startled softly, a bit surprised at the fact that he had momentarily forgotten about the other witch for those few seconds, but his mind quickly stopped trying to focus on anything else but the sensations that his body was feeling.

He took a breath, shaky and lustful, and started to move his hips, moans and groans coming out of his mouth in a cacophony of sounds as the witch behind him searched for her own pace. He stared at his girlfriend beneath him, soaking in her pleasurable expression, and he raised his eyebrows as her hands blindly looked for his wrists. They undid the knot, allowing his hands to be free and move to the side of her neck, nails digging into the floor.

The tie came around his neck faster than he could process it, and Hermione tightening just the way he loved it, tugging him down until his forehead was pressed against her. He grunted, upping his pace as the strap on moved faster to match it, and his mind seemed to shut down for a moment as he felt the heat on his belly climb faster than before.

Hermione started to tighten around his cock, her walls pressing down on it as the bushy haired witch moan softly, tugging on the tie around his neck harder. Harry moaned and groaned, feeling his climax so close, everything being too much—

"Not yet," Hermione whispered huskily.

"W-what?" Harry asked, his hips stuttering.

"I'm going to come," She answered breathily. "But you can't. Not yet."

He frowned, his teeth grinding against each other as his cock throbbed, but he nodded quickly and started to work on holding off his orgasm, which was easier said than done; he closed his eyes, knowing that his girlfriend's orgasmic expression would push him to the edge, but her sounds and the way her walls clamped down on him was enough to almost make him come right there.

Hermione groaned, and her walls seemed to hug his cock impossibly tight as her climax washed over her, and the wizard gritted his teeth and stopped moving immediately to avoid more friction—

The strap on pushed him forward as the witch behind him started an unrelenting pace, and he gasped and moaned as it pounded him mercilessly; he was still inside of Hermione, hard and throbbing, and his muscles were trembling in the effort to keep his orgasm to himself. He groaned and bit his lips hard enough to draw blood until he felt a set of hands coping his jaw.

He relaxed it, opening his mouth as he stared at Hermione's disapproving face; as his body kept bouncing forwards and backwards and fingers dug into his hips, using them as leverage, his girlfriend plucked the tie from around her neck and loosened the knot completely. Her hands traveled upwards, wounding the fabric around his head and tightening it when it reached his mouth, his lips closing around it automatically as it gagged him.

Hermione hummed, pushing against his chest as she slithered on the floor away from him, only enough for his cock to slip out, still hard and covered on her climax. He grunted, hips moving forward to chase her heat before a hand grabbed his hair, pulling him up and back towards the unrelenting plastic cock. He felt pressure on his shoulders, and the grip on his locks loosened only enough for him to gaze down at his girlfriend.

Her feet were propped on his shoulders, each of them on each of his sides, and she was looking at him through lustful, comfortable eyes as her clone continued her work, making him drool and grunt on the tie on his mouth; she pushed against his shoulders, forcing his upper body to bend backwards slightly as the arms of the other witch wound around his waist, pushing his back against her front as he thrusts became shallow and powerful.

One of her hands closed around his cock, gripping it and pumping it as the other gripped his balls, squeezing, and Harry's breathe stuttered as he felt himself tremble, body still bouncing as the witch continued to thrust into him. He bit down on the tie, eyes half closed in an effort to fight off his climax as he stared at the Hermione underneath him; she looked beautiful, so in control of everything as her feet moved up until her toes were resting at the top of his shoulders, sort of wounding around his neck.

"You're close, aren't you?" Hermione asked, smirking when he mumbled through the fabric and nodded jerkily. "I know, I know, and you've been so good for me today, love…Let go. You deserve it."

It could've been her words, the way she uttered them so calm and in control, or maybe it was the way her clone decided to up the pace on everything—but it didn't take long until he felt the pressure build to an inconceivable high, and it took even less him to reach his peak; his eyes shut as he groaned into the fabric of his mouth, cock throbbing and spilling. His chest stuttered, and the hands around his waist left him, allowing his body to slump forward and caught by his own arms, barely.

Harry breathed sharply, working through his post-orgasm gaze as he opened his eyes, and he swallowed and smiled softly at finding his face right between Hermione's legs. She was covered in his come, most likely the doing of her little friend from behind, and her legs snaked around his neck to slowly pull him in. Without resistance, he dived in, ripping the tie from his mouth, encased by her thighs as his experienced tongue brushed against her center to clean the wet mess that had been made of her.

He lost himself to it, dutifully licking away until her hand grabbed at his hair, pulling him away. He breathed, frowning confusedly, wondering if he had finished; he could feel the wetness on his jaw as he licked his lips, connecting eyes with Hermione as she sat up and stared at him lovingly. He threw his head back to gaze at the other witch—

His eyebrows raised, spying nothing but the purple strap on on the floor with no signs of another presence except the two of them, and he turned back to his girlfriend with a questioning look in his eyes.

"She's gone," Hermione answered softly, beckoning him closer as she laid down again. "Only an hour, remember?"

"It's been that long?" He murmured, crawling up until he was right at her side, and melting into her embrace. His head tucked into her neck as his arms wound around her torso, pushing her against him. "That was hot."

"You say that every time," She answered, chuckling, her own arms hugging him across his neck as she kissed the top of his head.

"It's true," He shrugged. "Though I'm really close to going back to sleep. You drained me…in more ways than one."

Hermione snorted softly, "Harry."

He yawned tiredly, saving his answer for later, but the memory of the ring kept floating around his mind as it had been for the last two months. It had been stowed away safety on his locker down at the training rooms, so he sighed and addressed the witch.

"Still on for dinner?"

"Yes, of course, what would you like?" Hermione murmured, her hands moving to thread across his hair softly, petting it and massaging his scalp.

"I don't care, but I have to tell you something," He whispered. "Wait until I'm up?"

"Sure, love,"

Harry sighed contently, burrowing deeper into her embrace, and lost himself to sleep.

There were few things that Harry loved more than spending time with Hermione, and even lesser things that could surpass the joyful rush that he got from training with her.

Watching her move—swift, deadly, powerful—as she dodged his attacks and threw her own was mesmerizing to him; their magic always seemed to clash beautifully, as if it was dancing. There were no loud rushes of energy or angry sparks flying, as what he was used to, but warmth that seeped into his bones and lights that moved in tandem with each other, in sync.

It was rare when they could train together due to the fact that the training rooms were always occupied, and Harry had learned early on that training with his girlfriend—fiancée!— was a thing better kept private. The atmosphere they created, with their nerves all lighted up and their skin running hot, had given way to their first ever adventure between office walls years ago.

Just the memory of it was enough to get him slightly distracted, making his feet stutter as Hermione landed a well-aimed hex close to them. He shook his head, answering with a spell of his own, but his eyes were fixated on her: her skin, tan and beautiful and shiny with sweat; her eyes, blazing and reflecting the fun and lust that he was sure was also present on his own gaze; her clothes, perfect for working out but dangerous for him, hugging her boy just the right way; her hair, pulled up in a bun and messy as always, leaving her neck free and exposed, making him want to—

He ducked, a spell flying right past his head as her merry laugh echoed on his ears, and it was playfulness that welcomed him as he turned his attention back towards her.

"Eyes up here, you're losing," She said, smirking, throwing her head back slightly, and knowing exactly that her neck has been the one thing he had been fixated on.

"I wouldn't mind," Harry answered, chuckling softly. "Lighting round?"

"Oh? So soon? It's barely been fifteen minutes."

The black haired man shrugged. "I think I can beat you today."

Hermione snorted, shaking her head and throwing her wand to the side as he did the same. Her eyes stared at him, pupils blown and lip caught between her teeth before she spoke. "You won't."

"I won't." He answered confidently, and proceeded to pounced on her.

It was their little game that they had started after that first time all those years ago, and they both knew the exact outcome of it: she'd end up on top of him in a myriad of ways, and he'd be begging for more.

He loved it, and so did she.

She dodged him, heels turning her body to the side as his own feet scrambled to a stop; arm collided with arm as he spied his girlfriend's smirk across their forcefully joint elbows before stepping back. Her leg swung, being blocked by his, making them both tremble at the strength displayed. He tried to concentrate on keeping up with her; she was smaller than him, and slightly faster, and Hermione knew him so well to the point of being able to do one single movement that would distract him fatally.

He pushed against her, using his taller body as an advantage as the witch was forced to stumble back, but not without a fight; her leg swung, colliding with his hip as he grunted and bent forward. His arms shout out, encircling her waist before she could protest, and his force made her feet leave the ground as he tackled her gently, pushing her body into the mat slowly.

He heard her huff out a laugh as he leaned back, searching for her wrists to pin her, but he felt her legs shuffled underneath his weight. She pushed against him strategically, using her flexibility to her advantage, and before he knew it one of her legs had come to rest against his neck, pushing to the side. He surrendered, finding himself pinned between her thighs as he laid on his side and looked up, searching for her; she was still laying down on her side, but her elbow propped her up to look down at him with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

He shrugged slightly, not bothered in the least of finding himself in his favorite place, mumbling something against her thighs that made her shudder and sigh. He saw her eyes move from his face downward as her eyes grew more and more heated, and when they stopped, he knew that they had arrived to the tent on the front of his pants.

Suddenly, the legs around his neck loosened and he found himself free, rolling to the side. Before he could right himself, a weight settled on top of him, arms wounding around his neck and pulling upwards; he followed the direction, finding himself leaning against Hermione's sitting body with his legs splayed out in front of him.

The arms around his neck tightened only slightly as the witch's legs moved to encase his hips, eventually allowing her feet to rest in the gap between his thighs. He grunted, shuffling in place as he felt her lips caressing his right temple, kissing it softly as his heart stuttered excitedly. Her hands snaked down, losing no time as they grasped the elastic edges of his workout pants and pulling them down swiftly.

His erection sprung out as the edge of the fabric settled beneath his balls, pushing them up in a way that wandered the border of uncomfortable, but not enough for him to raise objection. His breathing picked up even more as her lips continued to caress his skin, traveling down to his neck and nipping at it softly. With only a whispered word as a warning, one of Hermione's hand encased his cock and started to pleasure him.

He closed his eyes, surrendering himself completely to her as her free hand moved quickly to the collar of his shirt, hanging onto it. The hand on his cock had started to move slowly first, and he belatedly realized that it wasn't as dry as it should've been; it moved up and down swiftly, and he recognized the sensation of lube as she worked him up, deducing that she had grabbed her wand and used a spell while he had been trying to get back on his feet.

They never took long inside of the training rooms; the opportunity of someone walking in on them was higher than any other place in the department, and knowing that there were people outside was different than having them encounter both him and his fiancée in a compromising position. For this, he was not surprised and very excited to find out that Hermione's hand stepped up its speed, and he could feel his belly getting tighter and tighter as he whispered words of encouragement—

She stopped, leaving his erection completely and making him grunt in confusion before her wet fingers placed themselves over his eyes.

"Don't look," Hermione whispered, and he complied.

He felt her legs shuffle from their place between his, retracting completely, and the warmth of her body against his back left him. He sat there, breathing heavily as his hands longed to carry himself to orgasm before his cock jumped at the way her fingers grabbed hold of his head. Something circular, smooth and cold to the touch encased his erection, sliding down until it was resting against the base of it. A moment passed, and he felt the object tighten slightly around him, prompting him to gasp softly and open his eyes quickly.

He stared down, gaze searching for the object a finding a sight that would've made him chuckle if he wasn't so horny; right at the base of his cock, resting there as if it was its rightful place, Hermione's engagement ring stared back at him, glinting against the light of the room. It fit snuggly against his erection with the diamond on top, and he barely had time to turn a confused glance at the witch before she tuck his cock back into his pants and stood up.

He followed suit, absently adjusting his briefs and pants as he walked over with a quick glance at the clock above the entrance.

"I guess we have to go," He said, sighing.

Hermione turned around with a smirk and her gym bag hanging from her shoulder. "Don't look so disappointed. You don't think I put that copy of my ring on your cock just to admire it later, do you?"

With a look towards her left hand, Harry became aware that she was wearing her ring, and he blew out a breath as he gathered his personal belongings.

"It does have a purpose, then?" He asked playfully.

"You tell me."

She waited until he was facing her again, and her movements were slow as the fingers on her right hand encased her ring and twirled it on its place slowly; suddenly, the ring on his cock began to buzz in the most pleasurable way, vibrating softly as he gasped and dropped his bag. One of his hands moved swiftly, copping his erection through the fabric in surprise. It stopped, and his gaze found her righting her ring as it was before.

"I know the Ball is going to be boring and tedious," She said, shrugging slightly as her smirk grew. "I thought it'd be better if we had something to distract us every now and then, though you're going to have to work for it."

Harry released a shaky breath, anticipation already seeping into his bones at every possibility that the ring opened up to them. He nodded enthusiastically, picking up his bag again and following her out of the room, all the while trying to conceal the tent in the front of his pants.

It had been two hours since the start of the Ball before Harry felt vibrations on his cock. It had been right after finishing dinner, and his erection had only just grown soft after being half hard all evening due to the knowledge of the ring before the movement of the smooth metal made it jump in action again. He sighed, shuffling in place in order to find a more comfortable position as the buzzing increased, and his jaw tensed as one of his hands gripped the armrest and the other moved to rest against his belt.

He shot a look towards the witch at his side; she looked absolutely beautiful, as he had said hours ago when he first saw her, and he took his time to stare at her untamable hair and animated face before his gaze settled on her hands. Innocent at first, he caught the slow movement of her fingers as they spun the ring on its place, feeling the vibrations picking up rapidly as she continued to speak with the witch in front of her.

"Mister Potter, I heard you arrested a dangerous criminal a few days ago?"

Harry was forced to rip his gaze from his fiancée and his thoughts from his throbbing cock to answer the question; it was a rehearsed answer, one he had given many times before, but it did the trick because the older man nodded and smile and left him alone after a moment. Unfortunately for him, there seemed to be a line in order to speak with him, and Harry found himself jumping from conversation to conversation while Hermione had her fun with the ring, pushing him so close to the edge that he was sure he'd come while speaking about arrest numbers.

It took forty minutes before there was a lull in the conversation, and he felt a hand slither between his fingers and his belt. From the corner of his eyes he was able to witness the way Hermione nodded as she answered a question, leaning against his side so naturally and lovingly that nobody batted an eye to her movements. He felt his heart stutter and his breathing picking up at the thought of what her hand was about to do—

"Potter,"

Robards' voice came from his other side, and he barely restrained the groan and growl that was born from his throat as he turned his head to look at his superior. The professional relationship between him and Robards had been awkward and uncomfortable ever since the whole Julia period, and they had managed to go about their days by ignoring each other and only speaking when necessary. Tonight, however, Harry knew why his boss had come to speak to him: the Head Auror couldn't be seen barely speaking to one of his better Aurors, since that'd give way to noisy questions and Madam Bone's intervention, which was the last thing the older wizard wanted.

"Sir," Harry said, frowning, not looking forward to the stunted conversation that would ensue between the two of them. He was, after all, still angry at his boss.

"Mallory and his men have been put in Azkaban for life," Robards stated, voice light as he leaned back into the chair he had just occupied.

"I know," The younger wizard answered, voice flat. "Hermione told me."

"Head Auror Robards," The bushy haired witch greeted quickly, flat voice and narrowed eyes.

"Miss Granger," He nodded at her respectfully, avoiding her eyes and turning his attention back towards his employee. "I've been given instructions to have you on more missions like that, Potter."

"I don't want missions like that," Harry answered immediately, adjusting his arm around his fiancée as he continued to speak. "I'm happy having courtroom duty and different missions once or twice a month."

"These missions could really use you," Robards insisted. "You can have courtroom duty a week each month, but I've been strongly suggested to have you on more undercover and recovery missions."

"Suggested or ordered? If it is the latter, then I'll have a talk with Madam Bones myself," Harry bit out, done with the conversation. "She's very well aware that I prefer non-combative missions, unless it's of the upmost importance, and even then, two a month is my limit."

Harry knew he had his boss; the mere mention of Madam Bones was enough to make Robards fold and grow even angrier with him, but he didn't care. He had no desire to go on dangerous missions, much less go undercover just a mere two weeks after he had just returned home from the mission that had taken down Mallory. There was also the fact that Harry suspected the suggestion didn't come from the DMLE itself; it had most likely been given by personal and political friends of Robards, and therefore, had no actual power in how the Department was run.

"Maybe if you listen to what I have to say, you'll change your mind," Robards stated, an almost desperate glint on his eyes, but his name was called from behind and distracted him.

Harry was already about to tell him to fuck off—in more professional words, of course—but Hermione's hand returned to his belt and pushed his own hand away. Her fingers held onto the buckle, undoing it slowly, and she leaned even more against him when her conversation ended, whispering in his ear.

"Do you think you can be quiet?"

He swallowed. "Yes."

"Do you want this? Right now?" His buckle was now undone, pushed to the side, and Harry absently admired how easy it was for her to undo his zipper and button with only one hand.

"Fuck," He muttered. "Yes."

Hermione chuckled low, hand already slipping beneath his briefs and massaging his erection, carefully pulling it out as her other hand adjusted the white tablecloth to keep his cock hidden away. "In front of Robards?"

"I don't care."

The fingers on his cock suddenly felt wetter and warmer, and he spied her free hand putting away her wand before she started to pleasure him slowly; her fingers glided up, thumb passing over his head torturously before moving back to the base of his cock, barely touching the still vibrating ring.

"Listen to me, Potter," Robards voice shocked him out of his mind, and he—reluctantly—turned his attention back to his boss. "We have an important lead in Germany. Do you remember the criminal we almost apprehended last year, the one with the forbidden book? He resurfaced again, and apparently…"

Harry was proud of the way he kept a straight, flat face; his eyes met Robards' fearlessly and his expression was relaxed, as if his fiancée wasn't currently giving him a handjob beneath the table—but his ear didn't pick up on anything the Head Auror was saying. He was focusing solely on Hermione's finger's, gliding across his cock with mounting speed as a faint, wet sound seemed to echo from beneath the table. The ring kept vibrating, only speeding up once and keeping that same level of vibrations as the witch kept up with her movements.

He gritted his teeth at a particularly fast movement of her hand, one that made his thighs tense and his cock throb pleasurably, and he was happy to note that his boss took that as a sign of anger at the mission and not of an attempt at keeping his orgasm in check. He heard a giggle from his other side, and Hermione's fingers squeezed him—oh, she was having her fun, wasn't she?

"What do you think?" Robards asked at last. "You'll do it?"

"No, I'm not interested," Harry's voice broke slightly at the end of the sentence, but it wasn't enough for his boss to question him. Absently, he noted how the witch's fingers stopped and left his cock along with the ring's vibrations, recognizing the importance of the moment. "I'm fine the way my work is now."

"Potter," Robards' voice had taken on a desperate, angry note. "You can't just say no to important missions just because you've filled your quota of the month!"

"I just did," Harry answered, gritting his teeth once more. "Do you have any concerns about the way I do my job? Am I not a good Auror?"

"Yes, but—"

"Then I don't care who told you to give me more missions, I'm not taking them," The black haired man answered with finality on his voice.

He stared at his boss for several moments, both of them waiting to see who'd fold first, but Robards sighed heavily after a few moments and left the table without a goodbye, dragging his chair along with him to sit down at another full table.

Harry sighed, rubbing his temple, and Hermione's unlubed hand traveled to caress his jaw line and the stubble along it. Unfortunately, before either of them could say anything, an entourage of French diplomats arrived at their table looking to sit down and speak about politics; when one of them found themselves without a chair to sit, Hermione offered hers and promptly sat down on Harry's lap.

He grunted quietly, adjusting in his seat as his fiancée shuffled on his lap, and they ended up with her back against his chest and his arms around her waist as he listened to the rapid French conversation going on around him. One of the attendees offered to translate for him, but the black haired man shook his head but thank him anyways, comfortable with sitting there with the bushy haired witch on his lap.

Everything was normal—as normal as it could be with his fiancée's soft ball gown fabric rubbing against his cock—until a few minutes into the new conversation, when Hermione laughed loudly and shuffled on his lap, turning her body sideways and wounding an arm around his shoulders to pull him closer to her. Her laugh trailed off as the other guests continued with their joke, but the witch's head turned to the side until her cheek was against his, and her voice whispered into his ear.

"How are you doing?" Her voice, to anyone else, would seem completely innocent and concerned, but he could feel the way her fingers tightened on his shoulders, and how her body pressed against his.

"I'd be better if we we're out of here," He answered, voice low. "I don't supposed we can slip away at the moment?"

"To leave the Ball? No," Hermione answered, sounding both playful and sad at her answer. "We still need to have some conversations with certain people, but I think we deserve a break for the moment."

He ignored the calls of the French diplomats, not understanding the words or the meaning, though Hermione left his neck to answer swiftly as he gritted his teeth at the friction of her dress on his still exposed cock. The witch turned back to her previous position, the hand on his shoulders moving to caress the nape of his neck as the other one slithered across his chest.

"There's nothing I want more right now than to have you on your knees underneath my dress," She murmured, and Harry felt his heart miss a beat at the mental image of it. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," He answered, looking around the ballroom and wondering if their desires were obvious enough to be seen on their faces. "You know I would."

"We can do that now," Hermione whispered, chuckling as her hands mess with his hair. "I know a place."

"Do you?" Harry questioned, raising an eyebrow even though she wasn't facing him, though she must've listened to the tone of amusement on his voice. "How, may I ask?"

"The ring wasn't the only preparation I made for tonight," The witch leaned back to kiss him softly before addressing the French diplomats, the foreign language rolling off of her tongue swiftly as she stood up. The wizard scrambled to grip at the tablecloth, pulling it onto his lap again and hastily tucking his cock back into his pants as his companions were distracted.

The diplomats argued playfully with his fiancée, and he had the feeling that they were asking her to stay, but the witch merely shook her head before she turned to the black haired man.

"Meet me by the refreshments table in five minutes," She said, barely loud enough for him to hear, and promptly walked away.

He sat there, knee bouncing and trading smiles with the French diplomats as he gaze at his wristwatch every few seconds, wishing that the minutes would go by faster. His eyes had followed her as the witch left, right until she noticed him. Separated with several tables and a myriad of people, Hermione met his eyes and smirked, and seemed to disappear through a wall at the right of the big, tall table that contained drinks and snacks.

He swallowed, muscles buzzing with anticipation as his eyes went back to his watch—only a few more moments before he could follow her. He ripped his gaze from the spinning needles and reached down under the table cloth, righting his pants and belt completely and waving his wand around his crotch to clean off, just in case a incriminatory liquid had stained his formal wear. Now, as the seconds ticked down and alerted him that he could go in search of the woman that made his heart stutter, he wondered how he'd get through the room with a prominent erection tenting on his pants.

In a moment, he remembered that both his and Hermione's jackets had been swung around on the back of his chair for easy keeping; in a swift movement, he grabbed them both and folded them, keeping the thick fabric in front of him as he left his seat, politely waving at the French diplomats as he walked quickly towards the path she had wandered off on. He sidestepped drunk guests, dancing pairs and an irritated and desperate Robards that tried to make another go at him.

Within moments, to his relief, he had arrived right next to the refreshments table, though he was confused as his gaze found nothing but two walls on either side of it. However, as he circled the table and wandered to the back of it, he grinned as he made eye contact with his fiancée, who was currently hiding in the empty alcove of the wall to the right of the table.She beckoned him closer with a nod, and the wizard was quick to take the two steps he needed to squeeze inside of the space right in front of her.

"This is the place, then?"

Hermione nodded, biting her lip for a moment before answering. "It's a blind spot to everyone on the ballroom. Only someone that comes too close to the table might be able to see us, but the waiters are doing a good enough job of keeping everyone with drinks on their hands, and dinner was substantial."

"There's no reason for anyone to come here, then," Harry concluded, dropping the jackets to the ground carelessly. "We have the place to ourselves."

"Until the speeches begin, but we have plenty of time," She answered, smirking and leaning back into the wall. "I think it's time you earn the release you desperately want, wouldn't you think so?"

"On my knees," He confirmed.

At the witch's nod, he undid the cufflinks on his shirt and loosened up his tie before walking and kneeling in front of her. The fabric of her ball gown felt soft on his hands as he started to lift it slowly, draping it over his head and onto his back. The light of the ballroom immediately left him as he welcomed the darkness inside of the gown, relaying on his touch to find the edges of her knickers. He pulled them down swiftly, his hands hitting stone as one of her legs lifted, allowing for a sliver if light to shine inside of his hiding place as the witch freed herself from her underwear.

Her leg then moved, and he felt the fabric of the gown rub against his back and head as she settled the limb upon his shoulder, parting her legs and baring herself to his awaiting mouth. His hand traveled up, removing his glasses and throwing them to the side, the metal frames producing a small, clinking sound as his knees shuffled closer and his hand gripped the leg on his shoulder.

She was aroused, extremely so, and he wondered if she had used those torturous five minutes to work herself up; his tongue reached out through her folds, experience and desperate as the witch's hand deposited itself on top of his head through the fabric of her gown. He hummed against her, his hands gripping each of her thighs as he lost himself into her, feeling his cock straining against his pants and her hips buckle against his head.

The echoes of the ball around them faded until they were nothing more than pesky little noises that seemed bent on distracting him from her, but her moans and sighs were enough to keep him grounded. One of his hands slithered away from her thigh to join his tongue on the exploration, searching for her entrance and testing it as his finger pushed his way inside easily—she had most likely touched herself before he arrived, already turned on by the situation and her future plans.

"I hope everyone is having a good time!" A voice cut through the ball room, making Harry startled and stop, confused as he listened. "We'll be starting with the speeches shortly, so make sure to grab your seat!"

He licked his lips, hand coming to wipes the excess of her arousal on his jaw. The fabric of the dress was ripped off of him just as he was cleaning his fingers, and his head leaned up to meet Hermione's exasperated eyes.

"They're always late with the speeches, every single year, and now that I had you like this in front of me, they decide to be on time?" She grumbled, shaking her head as the kneeling wizard snorted. "Come up here, love."

He obeyed, standing up again and ignoring the slight discomfort on his knees from leaning against stone. Hermione sighed, her gaze traveling up and down through his body before she bit her lip; her hands joined each other, and his breathing picked up as he watched her twirling her engagement ring slightly, provoking a small amount of buzzing at the base of his cock.

"We have to be quick and quiet," She whispered, looking him straight in the eyes. "I know you're good, you've always been—do you think you can do it? Fuck me like I want to be fucked before they come looking for us?"

"For you, anything," He answered, his hands already working and unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants. "Say it, and I'll do it."

"Drag those down," She nodded at his half-undone pants as her hands grabbed the lower part of her gown, bunching it up in parts and dragging it up. "I want you inside of me."

Harry quickened his pace, grabbing the edges of his pants and pulling them off, along with his briefs, until both pieces of clothing were mid-thigh. His cock sprung up, ready and hard, with the ring at the base of it buzzing and making him moan and grit his teeth as he tried to ignore it for the time being. He walked forward quickly, aware of the little time they had, and his hands searched to her waist as he pressed himself as much as he could against her while the bunched fabric of her gown rested between them. He grabbed at her thighs and crouched down slowly, meeting her eyes and waiting for her nod to pull her up in one swift motion.

Her hands dropped her gown and encased his shoulders and his legs wrapped around his waist; his cock rubbed on her naked skin as he pressed her against the wall, though he lost no time in grabbing his cock and searching for her waiting entrance. He slid in, letting gravity do its job as he let her drop slowly on his cock, making himself at home as his thighs trembled with the need to move and his throat released moans in tandem with her sighs and groans.

The voices around the ball room seemed to rise in volume, not quite giving speeches yet, but he knew that the staffers were searching for the guests of honor that would take the podium, and other guests of importance. His hips pulled back as his arms lifted her slightly, and he thrusted quickly as he searched for a proper, quick rhythm. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the small space, soft and quick, but it made him smirk and huff as he continued, his head losing itself into her neck and kissing it.

Hermione groaned, her hand gripping his hair and pulling it in every direction as her legs tightened around his waist. She pulled his head back and leaned down, kissing him with force and each of them swallowed the other's moans; her teeth latched onto his lips, biting him and making his hips stutter as the buzz on his cock grew exponentially. His hips sped up as he felt the heat on his belly grow, aware that he wouldn't last long with the ring and her kisses and whispered words to him.

One of his hands slipped away from her hips, leaving her full weight to be held by the wall and only of his arms; his fingers returned to explore her folds, desperate as his thrusts took on quicker, sloppier movements, but he quickly slowed them down only just enough for him to be able to rub, press caress the hiding knob that made the witch moaned and scratch his shoulder through the fabric of his shirt. The speed of his thrusts with the added movement on his fingers was messier, but Hermione was writhing and kissing him fiercely, and he could feel her walls tightened around his sporadically until the witch grabbed his hair with both hands and his lips swallowed a moan so loud he swore everyone could hear it.

Her walls clamped around him, the rush of her arousal so quick and wonderful, and it made his cock throb and seized as he bottomed out just before his climax rolled over him. He spilled inside of her, groaning and taking deep breaths as the buzz on the base of his cock receded until it was finished, and he stood there for a moment before a voice echoed through the ball room.

"Only a couple more moments before we start with the speeches! Grab your seats, everyone!"

Hermione pushed against him softly, and he slipped his wet and shiny cock out of her carefully before depositing her slowly on the ground. She didn't even need to say anything before he dropped to his knees again, pushing the gown up and slithering inside of it. He parted her legs slightly, and then set to clean the mess of both of their come off of her with his tongue, expertly and quickly. When he was done, he slipped out of her gown as his hand wiped at his chin, and he gifted her a mischievous and satisfied smile as he got up.

"Do you still think we have to stay at the ball?" He asked, raising his eyebrows.

Hermione chuckled, righting her dress as he tucked his cock back into his pants. Her wand waved around both of them, cleaning their attires off. "I'm considering bailing, but I have a better idea."

"Oh?"

The witch nodded, grabbing his hand and pulling him closer to kiss him before leaning back. "We stay and go through every speech in here, no matter how boring and painful, and come Monday we can go back to the training rooms. I heard they'll be empty."

"I'm all in," He breathed, smirking.

Hermione smiled at him, leaning down to grab her discarded knickers; she folded them quickly and precisely, and turned to tuck it inside the inner pocket of his robes. "Well then, let's go, we have speeches to listen to."