The crowds were cheering, people were taking bets. In the waiting tent, Harry was pacing back and forth nervously. Fleur Delacour didn't look nearly as composed as usual - she was silently fingering herself in a corner on a wooden stool. Harry supposed it was her way of calming her nerves. Cedric gave Harry a small smile, which Harry returned, feeling the muscles in his face working rather hard, as though they had forgotten how to do it.
Hermione was standing behind a tent flap. "Pssst! Harry? Is that you?" she whispered in when Harry was walking past her.
"Yeah," Harry whispered back.
"How are you feeling? OK? The key is to concentrate. After that you just have to…"
"Battle a dragon."
Hermione dropped to her knees in front of Harry and pushed her hands through the flaps. Harry's eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at Hermione's hands, only to rise almost comically when Hermione began to undo his trousers.
"What are you doing?" Harry gasped, even though he couldn't bring himself to pull away from Hermione.
"I'm calming you down." Hermione replied, pushing Harry's trousers down mid-thigh. "Helping out a friend, if you will." Hermione glanced up as she hooked her fingers under the waistband of Harry's Y-fronts. "I'll stop if you want me to, but I really think getting you off will calm you down." She knew she read that somewhere once – and if there's one thing Harry needed right now, was to calm down. She pressed a kiss to Harry's left thigh. "Say the word, and I'll stop."
Harry silently thanked the stars for sending him such an amazing friend.
Hermione grinned and pulled Harry's briefs down, watching as Harry's cock bobbed free, long and thick and glistening at the tip. She curled her hand about him, and Harry gasped and his knees automatically bucked into her touch, fucking her hand.
Hermione began slowly stroking Harry's cock, fascinated by how hard he'd become.
After jerking off Harry for a while, Hermione asked "We don't have a lot of time, so I want you to fuck my mouth until you cum. Can you do that?" "I'm here for you to use me," she continued.
"I'll take care of you later?" said Harry, and that wasn't really an offer, it was more a promise.
Hermione only readjusted her position before opening her mouth wide, ready for Harry. Harry reached forward and tangled his fingers in Hermione's bushy brown hair before thrusting, hard, into her mouth. Hermione gagged as Harry pushed himself farther and farther into her mouth, but she quickly learned better and relaxed her throat enough to let Harry through. The other champions were watching about 10 feet away from them.
Harry moaned, just enjoying the wet warmth of Hermione's mouth around him, pushing and pulling her head as she pleased, chasing his orgasm.
Hermione looked up at Harry through wide watery brown eyes, completely calm and trusting. Harry looked down at her and felt his orgasm beginning to pool in the pit of his stomach. He tipped his head back, his cheeks red and his mouth wide open, broken husky whimpering and moans falling out.
Harry slowly blinked, his green eyes filled with pure want. It only took one more glance down at the girl's beautiful mouth, stretched obscenely around his cock and a few more thrusts into her mouth before he came with a cry, down her throat. Harry's hips twitched, his cock pulsed, and a continuous stream of Hermione's name came out of his lungs.
When Harry's grip in Hermione's hair loosened, she slowly pulled off of Harry's prick. She was satisfied that he had finished.
She licked her lips and slowly got to her feet before surging forward into the tent and pressing her lips against Harry's. At that moment, a bright flash of a camera shattered the intimate moment, and Rita Skeeter the journalist approached. Hermione quickly pulled away from Harry.
"Young love! Ohh how.. stirring. Could give me a quick word? If everything goes unfortunately today you might make the front page."
"Yeah, you can have couple words: Piss off!" Harry said savagely.
"You have no business here! This tent is for champions... and friends," Viktor Krum's deep voice boomed, his protective instincts flaring.
Rita Skeeter, unfazed by Krum's stern rebuke, fluttered her eyelashes and twirled her wand, conjuring a floating teacup and saucer. She delicately poured herself a cup of steaming tea, her eyes gleaming with mischief.
"Oh, Viktor, you wound me," she said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "I'm merely doing my job, capturing the essence of these extraordinary events. And what could be more extraordinary than a budding romance between the Boy Who Lived and the brightest witch of her age?"
Hermione, her face flushed with embarrassment and anger, glared at Rita Skeeter. "We were not having a 'romantic encounter'," she insisted, her voice trembling with indignation. "It was just..."
Just then Dumbledore entered the tent. Rita Skeeter, having successfully captured her sensational scoop, excused herself from the tent. "Good day champions," Dumbledore greeted. "Gather round please."
The champions did as said and Hermione got pulled into the circle with them, squished between Dumbledore and Harry.
"Now you've waited, you've wondered and at last the moment has arrived. The moment only five of you can fully appreciate." Dumbledore finally noticed Hermione. "What are you doing here Miss Granger?"
"Harry," Hermione blurted out. She looked at Harry, her eyes filled with an unspoken apology.
"What?" Dumbledore asked in confusion.
"Nothing," Hermione mumbled and left through the tent flap.