Chapter Text
Come with me.
The 3 single most dangerous words in the English language, I'd decided. When she grabbed my hand, I went happily, completely oblivious to what she had planned. It was Hermione, after all.
The broom closet was small, but I was still an innocent boy at the time with no idea what was about to happen in that cramped space. Some of these shelves are small, I thought. Maybe she needs me to reach something for her.
Such an innocent boy. Until I felt it. Then I was innocent no more.
Thinking back, I must have looked like a deer caught in headlights. It’s not every day Hermione Granger is unbuttoning my Quidditch pants and looking at me like I’m dessert.
I swallowed hard. My eyes went wide. My mouth kept trying to form words but nothing came out.
"Whoa…wha...Hermi..." That was all my brilliant mind could come up with.
She stepped in very close to me, her face right next to mine, her eyes looking directly into mine. Her hands were still on my pants. She raised a thin finger to her lips.
"Shh," she whispered as she grinned at me. My jaw was still open and I wasn't sure what to say. I swallowed hard. It was all I could do.
What are you doing? Are you insane? What is she doing? Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, said that idiot in my mind. Of course, he shut up the second she grabbed me— I mean, really grabbed me—skin to skin.
There was still this innocent, naive part of me that had no idea what she was doing. Maybe she accidentally unbuttoned my pants? Any second she was going to back up and say something very Hermione-like, such as, 'Oh sorry, Harry, I thought that was your pocket. I was trying to give you this study guide. My apologies.'
But nope, nothing. Not a word.
My brain was Going. Spare. Eventually my body just took over told my brain to shut the hell up. She sort of pushed me back and I leaned into the large wire rack behind me.
Wait...what is she...
Oh! My! God! What the hell was she...oh...oh okay, okay, okay. Oh wow. Oh my...
I looked down at her head, feeling her tongue doing all sorts of things around me. I wanted to say something, but she had shushed me a moment ago. It was like some big secret or something that she just wanted to do and I was just supposed to shut up and enjoy it. Who was I to argue with that? Do what you have to do, Hermione. I'm happy to help. I grabbed my hair in frustration and smiled.
Hermione...Hermione Granger...was giving me a blowjob.
I couldn't believe it was happening. I should've stopped her or something. Or something...oh wow that feels good.
DO NOT use her head as a steering wheel, no matter how much you want to, I told myself. Don't move anymore than you need to or she might stop. Oh God, don't stop Hermione. Fight the urge to push forward. Fight the urge to moan.
I'd never even gone to second base with a girl in my seventeen years. Not that I didn't think about it, or even have prospects. It was just...weird. There weren't many girls at Hogwarts that were just normal around me. They all seemed to be...weird. I don't know. There were plenty of nights I woke up from some nice dream and thought that I wouldn't mind being some trophy prize, the Boy Who Lived, for some girl if it meant I'd be the Boy Who Got Laid.
What's wrong with me? Why am I thinking about this now?
I moaned louder than I'd intended to. Oh no! I thought, looking down and hoping she hadn't heard me. But she didn't seem to mind my moaning. She just didn't want me to talk. None of that lovey-dovey crap that people feel they have to do. No rose petals on the floor or candles or dumb music that's supposed to get you in the mood.
I was always so nervous about all of that stuff. Like, when I'm about to have sex for the first time, what do I do with my shoes? Is there a way to take off your socks in a sexy way? I just don't think there is. This was great. No drama or tension. Just do it, shut up, and enjoy it.
Wait...what is she doing with her...oh...oh my, oh what...
'OW!', I thought, while I tried not to say it out loud. I think she got the point. Teeth. Damn. The twinge of pain disappeared as her tongue swiveled around the spot she'd accidentally grazed.
I was going to explode. I knew it. She was so warm and soft. My legs couldn't hold me against the rack—which was digging into my back—anymore. My body betrayed me and pushed my hips forward. I couldn't help it—it was like this primitive thing that I had no control over. I could feel a rush of adrenaline pumping through my stomach and legs, readying me to explode.
Hermione. Hermione Granger. Hermione, Hermione, Hermione, Hermione...
I moaned a little louder this time and I softly touched her head. That hair that seemed more wild to me now than bushy. And wild is good. Very, very good.
I felt it happening, this thick gush letting go, in short spurts at first, then more constant. I could feel my face going goofy. My eyes shut tightly and finally I froze up, letting that glorious feeling go through me and enjoying it.
She stayed there for a minute, and I didn’t know what to do. Do I say something now? Oh my God. This is embarrassing. What do I say to her?
Wait… why am I embarrassed? She’s the one who gave me the blowjob. But I was the one with the stupid look on my face. All I could do was stare at her, breathless and shocked. Maybe I should say something. Do I tell her thank you? Do I—
Hey, where is she going??
She stood up, licked her lips, and gave me this deeply satisfied, evil little grin. She raised an eyebrow, fixed the front of her skirt, and brushed the dust from her knees.
Suddenly, she was Hermione Granger again—as if nothing had happened. She turned to the door, cautiously cracked it open, peeked out to make sure no one saw, and then she was gone.
WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!
I finally sank to the floor and looked down at myself. I smiled. Did that just happen? Did Hermione Granger really just give me a blowjob?
There was always a part of my brain that still kept Hermione as eleven years old forever. The idea of her giving anyone fellatio—much less me—was almost enough to make me want to set something on fire.
Why did she do it? What was so special about today?
We’d just lost our Quidditch match. To Hufflepuff.
Let me repeat that: to Hufflepuff.
Yeah. That was a kick in the ego.
We were all pretty depressed about it. Suffice it to say, Ron wanted to give himself the Avada. He'd gone off to sulk in our room while I went to the Great Hall to eat my troubles away. I hadn't even bothered to change. I just went straight to the Hall and found Hermione there. She was reading, of course, and hadn't been able to attend the game on account of helping Professor McGonagall with a Transfiguration project. It was just as well. The game was horrible and embarrassing. I told her all about it and she offered her condolences. It was all very Harry and Hermione.
So how did we go from that to this? Maybe she wanted to cheer me up? She did a wonderful job of it, if that was her goal. But I suspected that she did it more for herself than for me. I laughed and snorted as I leaned back against the wall.
Hermione Granger wanted to give me a blowjob.
It was kind of sweet, really.
Maybe she was experimenting and knew I wouldn't mind helping her out? Maybe she was practicing for someone else? That theory caused a growl in the back of my throat that I wasn't ready to think about.
After I'd managed to go back to a normal shade of white and I was sure little Harry was all set to go, I left the closet and went back to the common room. That was when I was hit with the worst case of jitters ever. I was so nervous about seeing her after all that had happened that I stood outside the common room door for about fifteen minutes. Do I say something? Do I kiss her? Did she tell anyone? Do I tell Ron?
I decided 'no' on all counts and finally just jumped into the deep end. I can do this. This isn't a problem. In fact, I hope she's there. Just get it over with. Yeah, I really hope she's there.
She wasn't there. Oh thank God.
I went straight to my dorm and took a shower. I knew I'd see her at dinner, whether I wanted to or not.
It was the most frightening experience I'd ever been through.
Facing Voldemort was going to be a cinch after facing Hermione in the Great Hall.
She was sitting there, across from me, talking to Ron as if nothing had happened. She turned to Seamus and asked for the salt. Laughed at one of Ron's jokes. She even looked right at me and asked me about homework for Trelawney as she always would.
I must have had a strange look on my face or something because Ron kept asking me if I was okay, and I just kept nodding. There wasn't even a glimmer of acknowledgment about what had happened earlier. I kept looking over at her searching for any sign that she did, indeed, do the deed. But she never flinched. She was acting so… so... normal.
How could she act normal when not 2 hours ago that mouth of hers, which was now wrapped around her fork, was then wrapped around me doing all sorts of wonderful and naughty things? C'Mon Hermione, give me *some* sort of sign...
Nothing. Nothing for 2 weeks.
I was convinced that it had all been a beautiful, beautiful dream. A very vivid, wonderful hallucination brought on by the stress of losing to Hufflepuff. It had to be.
At first I thought she was putting up a front because we were in front of people. But even in the off-chance she and I were alone together—in the common room at night, the library during the day, the Great Hall in the morning before Ron joined us—she wouldn't give me any sign that it had actually happened. And I didn't have the guts to bring it up first.
Then, just as I was starting to really believe it hadn't been real, she smiled at me in Snape's class.
Then, in Snape’s class, she smiled at me.
Not her normal smile.
The smile.
The one from the closet.
My smile.
Reserved only for me.
I looked at her and heard 'Hallelujah' blaring in my brain and felt a glimmer of hope that I wasn't, in fact, nutters.
Later that day, I was walking down the corridor to the Owlery to send Sirius a letter when I felt a strong pair of hands pull me back. She was smiling at me with that smile again and my whole body responded immediately. She took my hand and pulled me along the hallway to a door.
The room was tall and had very tall, long etched-looking windows overlooking the Quidditch pitch. The sun was starting to set and there were long orange rays coming through the windows, looking thick with dust. This was the old Quidditch supply room. Now they seem to treat it as an attic, throwing everything old and unusable in here. I walked forward a bit, leaving Hermione behind me and looking around.
Old Quidditch brooms and first year training brooms hung against the walls. Tattered old quaffles and broken beater-sticks lay all around the room. There were old Quidditch uniforms for all 4 houses hanging up and some were all wrinkled up on the floor. Over in the far corner were about ten or so different size snitches. Looks like they've only gotten smaller and smaller over the years.
There were old books stacked up around the room, all tattered, dusty, and worn. This room seemed to be in the corner of the castle. Being part of the castle towers, the ceiling was circular, tall, and pointed. It was the room time forgot. Leave it to Hermione to find it. It was quite beautiful with the sun's orange-red 5 o'clock rays passing through.
I turned back around to Hermione. She was planted to the ground just looking at me with that look. 'Please let her do it again!', I'd thought, greedily. It was all I could think about and all I wanted to think about.
Then she moved.
She was walking toward me quickly and I stood my ground staring at her. Okay, just be prepared. She's going to do something. I'm ready, I thought.
She looked like she was going to walk past me but, instead, her long fingers slid behind my neck and she pulled me forward, kissing me fiercely as if I had the answer to a test in my mouth. I pulled her up, lifting her off the ground almost without realizing I was doing it. I just wanted her closer. And closer. More. And more. I pushed her against the wall letting the wall support most of her weight and kissed her for all she was worth. It was our first kiss.
Kisses.
She wrapped her legs around my waist as I pushed her harder into the wall, old brooms falling to the floor around us with *clink* noises. She could feel me hard against her, I knew it. And I knew that very moment what we were about to do. I just knew. I wasn't even nervous.
Socks? What socks?
I knew not to say anything. That was our deal.
I swung her around clumsily, kissing her, searching for a more comfortable place. She was pushing up against me and I ended up back in another corner, tripping over the snitches. They immediately leapt up and starting whizzing around the room slowly, much slower than the modern snitch. I was too busy lifting Hermione's gray sweater up to pay attention.
The snitches were still flying around, the sun catching them and causing little gleams of gold to shadow all around the room on the walls and all over us.
I unbuttoned my robe and let it fall. I grabbed her hard, kissing her roughly. I felt like an animal as I untucked her shirt and slid my hand across her soft belly. My fingers dipped quickly into the waistband of her skirt, pulling her toward me as I took her mouth again. I felt wild. As we kissed, I slipped my hands up the back of her shirt all the way to her shoulders and pulled her to me so hard I lifted her off the floor again for a moment. Quickly, I pulled her tie loose and off and then unbuttoned her shirt and slid it back, kissing her shoulder, then her arms as it fell down behind her.
I got down on my knees in front of her to undo her skirt. She ran her hands through my hair. I grinned and slid my hand up her inner thighs and back down again. Just enough to tease her and it worked—she smiled with her eyes closed. With her skirt button and zipper undone, the skirt fell loosely around her ankles. I sat back and looked her in the eye. I didn't dare ask her if she really wanted this.
I knew she did.
I was going to make a fool of myself. I had no idea what I was doing.
'Don't worry. She doesn't care. Just have fun,' my brain told me. But I looked up at her anyway, looking for some sign that this was really what she wanted to do. She caressed my cheek and grinned at me with a gentleness that snuck its way into our frenzy of mouths and hands and bodies. I felt a sense of calm there, looking at her as if the rest of the world had faded away.
It only lasted a moment; her grin giving way to a look that I can't quite describe. At least I couldn't then.
I stood back up, directly in front of her as I whipped my sweater off. She grabbed me by my tie and pulled my head to hers as she kissed me deathly again. Her hands were all over my hair. I couldn't imagine, nor care, what it would look like by the time we were done.
She pulled hard on the tie as it slid around my neck and fell to the floor. She stepped back for a moment and grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled hard, sending buttons flying everywhere. She hadn't intended it, and gave a brief look of 'oops!' but—it was great. I was breathing heavily already, but seeing her rip my shirt open like that...I'd almost come undone.
The shirt fell to the floor as I picked her up again, guiding her arms back around my neck, and I kissed her. I felt possessive holding her that way. I felt strong.
I walked toward the middle of the room, almost sending us both to the hospital wing when I tripped over a stack of books. I just avoided getting hit by a snitch and fell back onto the floor with her. She took advantage and moved her legs on either side of me. She was straddling my hips, pushing herself against me. I don't think she even realized she was doing it. It was like a reflex.
Every nerve in my lower body was charged and sending jolts of adrenaline to my nether region. We broke apart with a mutual sigh and she pushed back a bit, rubbing her hand over the front of my pants. My hips jerked up instinctively. She unbuttoned and pulled them down as I pushed up a bit to help her along. I was completely ready.
She rolled back a bit and sat up on her knees. For a milli-second, I had a moment of sheer panic that she was coming to her senses and was going to leave. But she just smiled a little shyly and undid her white bra. She wouldn't look at me. I laughed to myself.
As if she had anything to be embarrassed of.
She pulled down her underwear and moved back to straddle me. I think I was so freaked out that I was actually about to have sex that I couldn't really appreciate a fully naked Hermione.
And, by-the-way, we both still had our socks and shoes on. How completely insignificant.
But I knew then to take a mental snapshot of Hermione naked for later viewing, with her knee socks and shoes on, crawling toward me with a Cheshire grin on her face and a little pink in her cheeks.
All thought left my brain when I felt her, Her, on me. I hadn't pushed in yet. She was just sitting on me, looking down at my eyes. My hands went to her hips, instinctively wanting to push up and in to her. She rubbed herself against me and it felt amazing. But her breasts were too tempting and I ran my hands over them, not really sure what she liked but deciding to do what I liked until she told me what to do herself. She didn't seem to mind what I liked in the least. She draped her hands over mine on her chest and pushed her breasts harder into the palms of my hands. Her hips moved and I could feel her sliding over me.
Did she not realize I'm a guy? We don't have that much control. It takes years of training to hold out to this kind of torture.
I closed my eyes. Snape in a dress. Hagrid in a dress. Hagrid and Snape together in a dress.
In the corner of my mind I could hear a few snitches whizzing by us and I could see gold shadows glimmering on the wall every so often. It was beautiful. But I could not have cared less.
She finally sat up and slowly pushed me in. I knew not to move. It was her first time. It was mine, too. I forced myself to try not to move. I had one hand behind me, holding me up from the floor and the other hand wrapped itself behind Hermione's ear and pulled her mouth to me.
I kissed her hard and slow, my tongue massaging hers until I found that taste I didn't realize I'd been craving.
I slid my hand down from her cheek and back down her spine until I felt her finally start moving against me. It felt like forever. I leaned back down to the floor, looking at her. Her eyes were closed and we were trying to find a rhythm together, but it was clumsy. Wonderfully clumsy. She looked like a cheesy romance novel right then, with the orange-red sun making her look all...beautiful and such. The dust was so thick through the light I was pretty sure we'd be covered in it when we left. She'd tucked her hair behind her ears and behind her back and she finally opened her eyes once she'd really gotten used to the feeling of me being inside of her.
I don't think I'll ever really get used to this. It's Hermione. Now is not the time to laugh, Harry. Any thoughts of laughing were soon gone when I looked at her face. She was staring at me with this look that just floored me.
It was enough to interfere with my breathing, really.
I looked down and saw myself inside of her, surrounded by her gripping me tightly, and I jerked hard into her. It was pretty much the sexiest thing I'd ever seen in my life. It turned me on in a way I can't even describe.
I moaned. It came out as a hard grunt. I sat up again and kissed her neck. Her hands went into my hair again and she moved against me a bit harder. I placed my hands behind me on the floor to hold myself up as I moved and pushed up inside of her, harder and faster.
I was going to come any minute now, and I knew she was getting close. She was clenching around me harder and harder. We were both panting at this point. She ran her hand over my face, grazing my scar, over my glasses, then down my cheeks to my mouth where she lingered softly, going back and forth over them with her thumbs. It was affectionate.
Her eyes started to flutter as her head fell back a bit and I could feel her starting to go. So I let go. And we both let go.
She made a noise that can only be described as primitive. I don't think she realized it. These were the only noises we were 'allowed' to make in our silent agreement, I'd realize later. Thank God; I couldn't hold mine back any more than she could.
In all, it lasted about ten minutes.
My forearms finally gave out and I lay back on the floor. Hermione collapsed onto my chest, breathing hard. The sun had almost set, the room dimming around us while snitches fluttered lazily through the dusty light.
She sat up and smiled at me, her hair wild around her face. There was that grin again. Her eyes were barely open and she looked a little drunk.
Like I was one to talk.
It took a moment for me to pull out. She moved slowly, and afterward she leaned back down onto my chest. I could feel her breathing settle, each inhale soft against my ribs. She rubbed her hand lightly up and down my side. After a few minutes, she looked up, and I could tell she was thinking the same thing I was: we’re going to get caught if we stay here any longer.
We both sighed.
She got up slowly and crawled toward her underwear. I snorted under my breath. After everything we’d just done, she was suddenly acting embarrassed to put her underwear back on in front of me. She was almost fully dressed before I’d even gotten the feeling back in my legs.
I sat up and pulled on my pants, unable to stop smiling.
She finally slipped her sweater on and finger-combed her hair back. She walked over to where I was still sprawled on the floor, knelt, and took my face in her hands. Then she kissed me—one long, slow kiss—and brushed her fingers over my mouth before standing and leaving.
And that’s how it’s been for the past three months.
Three wonderful months. At first it happened two or three times a month. Then once a week. Now it’s every other day, and I’m starting to think even that isn’t enough. And through all of it, we never speak. Not once have we ever spoken during or about it. There’s an unspoken rule to go back to normal the second we leave whatever crawlspace or empty room we’ve found.
And it's perfect, really. We don't need to speak. There are times I want to say something, I'm not sure what but just something. Her name. Anything. But at the same time, I feel like the second one of us says something, the spell is broken an it's over. It feels suspended, protected...untouched by the outside world. It’s fun and wild and wonderful, and the time we spend together means more to me than anything. It's fun and wonderful. Completely wonderful and the time we spend together means more to me than anything.
I don't even question that it's the same for her; I know it is. And neither one of us want to read about our shenanigans in the Daily Prophet.
If anyone dangerous ever figured out what she meant to me, they’d use her against me. This way, no one gets hurt.
…Right?
What she meant to me.
That was a loaded thought.
It’s just fun. We’re just two friends experimenting in a fun, non-judgmental, completely-at-ease-with-each-other way.
Right.
Two friends experimenting. It was great. It was just what we needed.
She's just what I needed.
As quiet as we are, every part of me is screaming...she's everything.
Let's get off this train of thought.
Now, here we are. And for the first time, I'm going to initiate it.
I'm nervous.
She's always been the one to initiate it and I've always felt like she should stay in control of it. But I want her so badly today. I can't stand it. I need her—in a wild, consuming way that hits me at all hours. In a way that's making me fail my Arithmancy class because I can't not stare at her legs when we're there. In a way that has me wanting to steal something of hers just so I can take a hit and smell her when I need to.
It's all the time now.
She won’t mind.
I know she won’t.
I understand her body language now better than anything she could say out loud. We say more in an hour of silence than we do in a whole day of talking in the common room.
She’ll be on top of me, and we’ll move in perfect sync—we’ve gotten very good at this. It used to be clumsy and awkward, but now… I’ll push up and come inside her, and then we’ll rest there for a moment, smiling at each other.
Those moments are more powerful than hours of conversation.
There was a time she literally jumped me in a broom closet outside Snape’s class. She shoved me in, ripped my pants open, dragged her underwear off, and climbed on top of me. She rode me hard for maybe a minute before she was already close.
Horny wench.
No pretenses that day. She wanted what she wanted, and I was happy to oblige—even if I was bruised for a week.
It’s still strange to think of Hermione wanting to get laid. There will always be that tiny part of me that sees her as the bossy little smart-ass on the train. But in these moments, she’s the woman I she's become.
And she makes me feel like the man I want to be.
She comes down the dirt path and I watch her approach. She's absentmindedly reading her book. She walks past me and I make sure no one is looking before I grab her arm. She's startled at first, then she smiles. I pull her to me hard and kiss her.
I pull her into the woods a bit, where no one would see us. She knows what I want. I grin at her and push her back up against a tree. She grins as she casually drops her book to the ground beside us and raises an eyebrow quickly.
I hold her hands behind her back with one of my own. I use my other hand to slide up under her skirt and pull her underwear down. I wish she'd stop wearing these damn things. They just get in the way. I let go of her hands in order to undo my pants.
I stare at her with a satisfied grin as I do this, and I see her flush starting in her neck. I know what she likes. When I push her harder, grab her, look at her like I am right now...she gets all red and I can feel her getting excited. She likes seeing me confident.
I wasn't at first. I was so freaked out for the first two months; I was scared I would do something stupid and turn her off. I've come to realize that she really likes me to be confident. So pretending to be confident actually helped make me more confident, if that makes sense. Now I make it a point to undress in front of her, not to shy away from it but stare right at her. I make a point to grab her a bit harder and stare at her when she turns, or grin at her and stare her in the eye when I push into her every time.
She gets off on it. She likes that I want her as badly as I do. It's primitive.
Of course, it's all a façade. It's all her.
She's in complete control. I'd gladly do anything she asked of me. I'd give her all of my money, all of my time, my Firebolt, any limb of her choosing. Hell, I'd give her my life if she asked it of me, although that's not so different from before.
I pull her arms up because I want them around my neck. She looks around a bit, making sure we are, in fact, alone. I pull her legs up around my hips and she feels me against her. I rub for a moment, just letting myself enjoy the slickness and I feel her try to push herself on me. I grin and drive straight into her as we both groan. I'm not gentle, nor am I slow or sweet. Just like she did that day in the broom closet when she attacked me—I just need her. I need this. Little Harry is getting way too greedy.
I grind myself into her, over and over, all the way to the hilt. I felt her deep inside, her walls squeezing me and I could feel myself contracting. I came hard, flooding her. I could feel the warmth all around me as the contractions began to finally slow down.
When I was done, I stayed inside her warmth, just enjoying the aftermath before my legs finally gave out. Still inside her, I turned us around and slid down the tree. I just couldn't stand anymore. She started moving fast on me and ground herself in my lap. I could feel her constricting inside, squeezing tightly as she began to lose control. She leaned forward and began rocking hard and unevenly, coming hard and fast.
I loved watching her face when she came. She's the most controlled person I've ever met. But not now. Not like this.
I always liked coming first. I got to sit back and watch her with more brain cells this way. There's something altogether amazing knowing that you can make someone feel that good. That you're the one who actually makes them make that funny face, or whip their head back, or groan like she does. She looks wrecked when it's over.
I love that I can do that to her.
I just stared at her for a few minutes. She stared back. It was a tug of war. She won.
She always wins.
She slowly got up and stumbled a bit on her wobbly legs.
Yeah. I like that I can do that, too.
She grabbed her book and fixed herself up before she leaned down and kissed me on my forehead. I caressed her hand. I held her forehead against mine for a few moments.
We could just live here and be happy.
As if sensing my thoughts, she leaned in and kissed me. Softly. Just a touch. Her goodbye for now.
She forgot her underwear. I took them and shoved them in my pocket. I'd give them back next time. I liked thinking that she was walking around all day with no underwear on. Maybe I'd try to corner her after dinner and take advantage of it.
I stayed there for a little while, just enjoying the quiet of the trees. The sun was shining and the wind was blowing softly but it was uncharacteristically warm for December.
It was a beautiful day.