Chapter Text
Harry, as it so happened, had been the one to notice Malfoy lobbing a Chizperfle fang into Hermione’s potion. Hermione was intent on stirring her cauldron the correct number of times, but Harry wasn’t as inclined to put much effort in, knowing that no matter what he did Snape would fail him. While this made his potions worse, it did mean that he had the awareness to notice the projectile Malfoy had launched. He lunged forward to catch it, and he’d almost been fast enough, but not quite. “Hermione! Get back!” Harry shouted, not knowing what effect the addition might have. Often, it was highly explosive.
Hermione only had a moment to reel back slightly before the potion began to bubble violently, splattering droplets in all directions. At least it wasn’t an explosion or a total meltdown. Harry grabbed Hermione’s arm and dragged her back while their classmates gave the cauldron a wide berth. It was a little late for her, however. The potion had splattered droplets onto her face, into her thick hair, and on her clothes. Harry wasn’t spared either, though he didn’t have it nearly as badly as Hermione had.
“Evanesco!” Snape barked, vanishing the potion in the cauldron, before turning to the pair of them and did the same. “Fifteen points from Gryffindoor, for each of you for your foolishness.”
Harry grit his teeth, wanting to shout at him that it was Malfoy’s fault, that Hermione paid painstaking detail to every potion she brewed, but he knew that it would be for nothing. Instead, he just furiously returned to his potion, not really expecting to be able to salvage it. Hermione just let out a soft sigh, staring down at her empty cauldron, defeated.
“Snape and Malfoy are gits” Harry grumbled on their way out of class, knowing that Hermione was too upset to complain about his ‘disrespect towards a professor’. “I’m just glad that the potion hasn’t you know, done anything.”
“As far as potions accidents go… I’ve had worse.” Hermione said, perhaps referencing the Polyjuice incident in their second year. She fell in step behind Harry as the made their way up a stairwell “Generally potions are fast acting, though, so if we haven’t noticed anything by now we’re probab- eep!” Her explanation was cut off by a squeak. Harry whirled around, worried that magic had decided to be ironic today.
“Sorry! I… tripped.” Hermione said lamely. She did indeed seem to be clutching the handrailing as if to steady herself, and he was almost ready to take her at face value, but something seemed… off.
“You look hot.” Harry said.
“E-excuse me?” Hermione squeaked. Harry blinked in confusion, before realizing how that statement might be misinterpreted.
“Flushed. Your face is flushed, and your breathing’s heavy too. Are you sure you’re alright? We can always go to Pomfrey.”
“No!” Hermione burst out “I mean, I’m fine. Its fine. I don’t need… its fine.”
Harry was less than convinced, but didn’t know how to persuade her otherwise “Usually you’re the one hounding me to go to the hospital wing.” He snarked. When he was sick, he usually just tried to suck it up and plow through it, it was a recurring struggle for Hermione, who didn’t understand why he refused to do something as simple as go to Pomfrey for a pepper-up potion. Harry didn’t have an answer for her, he didn’t know himself why, other than that asking for help with something so minor made him feel weak, pathetic even. He rubbed the back of his hand instinctively; it wasn’t unlike his struggles with Umbridge and her bloody quill.
Hermione pressed ahead, and Harry turned to follow. No point in making this into a big argument, if she didn’t want to go, whatever it was couldn’t be that serious, and he didn’t seem to be affected at all.
Damn those stockings look lovely on her legs.
Harry nearly tripped himself at how suddenly that thought surfaced, but his mind didn’t stop. His eyes trailed up to her skirt, her bum… alright that was enough! He forced his eyes straight ahead.
Okay, where the hell did that come from?
It wasn’t like he had never noticed Hermione before- she was really lovely at the Yule Ball- but it had never been like this. He’d never been faced with the urge to press her to the wall and crash his lips to hers, tear off her clothes- enough!
Harry pulled up beside her so that his eyes wouldn’t be glued to her arse, or her legs, but nevertheless he had to fight the pull to turn and glance. He was momentarily, and mercifully, distracted when the flight of stairs they were on jolted and began to swing to an alternative destination.
It was a double-edged sword, though, because now that they were stopped, they had nothing to do but look at each other. When Harry finally risked a glance, he found that Hermione was already looking at him. Harry didn’t need to look down to know what she was looking at. Despite his attempts to ignore it, he was hard, urgently hard, and he knew it must be embarrassingly obvious even through his trousers.
Yet the most shocking thing of all wasn’t what she was looking at, it was how she was looking at it. She was awfully flushed, not just her cheeks, but down her neck… and probably lower, to places Harry had never seen before. Her eyes seemed to burn as the stared down at his tented trousers, her teeth worrying her bottom lip as her face twisted itself into an expression he’d never seen on any girl, but it was nevertheless unmistakable.
Lust, she was looking at him with pure lust.
It was hands down, the most erotic moment of his life to date. It affected him so, that his cock practically leapt in his pants, giving a heated, urgent throb as it expanded to the limit that his uniform trousers made comfortable. He grit his teeth to avoid making a noise that would surely be highly embarrassing, but the damage had been done he was sure.
If Hermione’s reaction to seeing that he was erect shocked him, her response now downright blew his mind. Her eyelids fluttered as she rubbed her thighs together and her mouth opened just slightly to let out a whimper. It was a noise that Harry felt in his cock, a tingle in his cockhead that made it twitch again.
This had to stop. “Hermione.” Harry said raggedly, gripping her shoulders firmly. Hermione looked up at him with wide eyes, and she looked so receptive, like she was just waiting for him to decide what to do. Something deep in his chest was telling him if he pressed now, she’d do… she’d do… “I guess we know what that potion did to us.”
“I guess we do.” Hermione said weakly. Feeling a bit awkward, Harry released her shoulders. Hermione wrapped her arms around herself self-consciously. He understood now why she didn’t want to go to the hospital wing. Admit to Madam Pomfrey that you really wanted to shag your best friend, and what would she do? Put them in overnight observation… he’d rather spend the night jerking off in his bunk, thank you very much. “What… what do we do now?”
Merlin, what was she asking him? Did she actually want him to snog her, even more? Neither of them had ever expressed any interest before… they really shouldn’t if the only reason they wanted to was this damn potion. Or maybe she was asking for advice, or sympathy, solidarity. “Well, I’m going to go, er, take care of things before dinner.”
“Take care- you mean, you’re going to…” She trailed off, seemingly unable to bring herself to say the word.
Screw it, its not like things could get more awkward “Masturbate. Yes, I am.”
“Oh.” Her eyes, god help him, flicked down to his erection, before returning to his face “I’ve never done it before, but…”
Harry shrugged, wishing he had some good advice for her. “It really isn’t a big deal. Nobody’s watching, you aren’t gonna embarrass yourself. Just do what feels good, imagine something that… turns you on.” Wow, it was weird talking about anything sexual with Hermione. Their friendship had been so so far from that its entire existence, and now he was trying to give her pointers on how to get herself off.
Their journey back was made in silence, they made their way through the pre-dinner crowd in the common room, and before the parted towards their respecting dorms, they shared a short, awkward glance.
Thankfully, Harry’s dorms were empty. While he could always put silencing charms on his curtains, it would still be painfully obvious what he was doing if someone saw him get in bed at this time of day. He wasted no time in tugging down his trousers and briefs- not even bothering to take of his button down shirt or uniform jacket, just pulling then up to expose his stomach- and moaned in relief as he grabbed a hold of his cock. Instantly, his mind marinated itself in what he had just experienced- the look of desire on Hermione’s face, her whimper, the way she looked up at him wide-eyed and receptive. It blew every single one of his (admittedly respectfully tame) fantasies of Cho out of the water.
A few short tugs was all it took for Harry to explode in the most intense orgasm he’d ever had. Masturbation had never had a great appeal to him, it felt good, but empty. If his orgasms had felt like this, though, he might have changed his mind. He knew instantly that his shirt was ruined, but he didn’t give jot, he couldn’t care about anything in that moment, other than how glorious his cock felt, pumping, pulsing, ejaculating all over his chest and stomach.
When the last spasms finished, and Harry was ready to relax in the pleasant post-orgasmic feelings, he was dismayed to find that while he’d just cum spectacularly, it had done nothing to help his situation. Not only was he still hard, he felt no less horny, no less desperate for release, than he had before.
What? How? What did he need to do to satisfy himself? His mind seemed to pull the answer straight from the ether- a vision of Hermione, that look of desire on her face, a single hand exploratively running up and down his cock. Without even realizing it, his hand mimicked the motion in his vision. For a moment, it felt as if she were actually stroking his cock, and the sensation of her hand was like a lightning bolt. He came instantly, his cock eagerly ejecting himself with such force that some splattered across his cheek. He barely noticed that, instead trying to hold onto the vision his brain had provided, her hand around his throbbing, sensitive cock and that look on her face. “Uhn! Uhn! Uhn! Hermione!” He’d never actually vocalized while masturbating, always afraid someone would hear, but he just couldn’t help himself this time.
Yet, even that orgasm didn’t satisfy. It had been so good, but it still left him feeling urgent and aching. He needed the real thing, not his hand. Accepting defeat, he cleaned himself up. An evaesco worked well on the cum dotting his skin, but left his shirt with a spattered stain that he wasn’t comfortable wearing. Making sure that no one else was in the room still, Harry quickly changed, cramming his hard on back into his trousers and donning a clean, if crumpled, collared shirt, but not bothering with the jacket or tie since classes were done for the day.
He returned to the common room holding a textbook to his body- placed deliberately to try to hid his erection, and sat in a secluded corner to wait for Hermione. His attempts to distract himself by reading were doomed from the start, and he found his eyes wandering. Lavender too had changed after classes, ditching the stockings and flaunting her bare legs. She caught him looking at her, and gave him a saucy wink. Embarrassed, Harry looked away, trying not to ogle every girl that passed his field of view, trying not to notice how Ginny had… developed, or how nice Angelina’s bum looked.
It turned out that he would be waiting for a while, which might have been for the best, as it gave him time to master himself somewhat. He told Ron to go ahead without him while he waited for Hermione, who easily agreed. Slowly, the common room filtered out until just a few straggling second years were left. Finally, just when Harry was thinking that he’d be late for dinner, Hermione appeared, looking much more ruffled than when he last saw her. He couldn’t resist giving her a once over, his cock thrumming needily as he took in her figure, yet wishing her uniform didn’t obscure so much. When his eyes rose to meet hers, he could see her frustration, her desire, and the battle for control raging within her.
“How did it go?” He asked her tentatively.
“Fine.” She replied shortly.
“Do you think you can make it through dinner?”
“Yes, of course.” She said irritably. “Let’s go, we’ll be late.”
Hermione plowed ahead, leaving Harry once again to trail behind and do his best not to perv on his friend. She was irritable, perhaps she didn’t like how he had looked at her? Or maybe it was sexual frustration. Either way, she was rather snappish, and Harry decided to just not engage with her.
Hermione remained visibly agitated throughout dinner- fidgeting constantly and only eating distractedly. Harry knew this because he simply couldn’t keep his eyes off her- in his mind it was better he look at her, who knew what was going on, than offend any other girls. After only perhaps fifteen minutes, Hermione excused herself in a rush.
“What’s with her?” Ron asked.
“No clue.” Harry fibbed. He considered going after her, but he was paranoid that people might cotton on that something was up, so he waited until dinner was wrapping up to leave the table, telling Ron that he might retire early.
Harry took out and activated the Marauders’ map, and after a minute of searching, found Hermione in one of the girl’s bathrooms. He wasn’t sure why the bathrooms didn’t have the same protections that the girl’s dorms did- he hadn’t put much thought into it when he and Ron had intercepted the troll in their first year, or when they were brewing Polyjuice in their second, but that inconsistency seemed a little more salient now.
Harry approached the door, pausing once more to check on the map that no one else was near. He was going to knock, but he hesitated. Would Hermione really want to see him now? She went to be alone, maybe he should just respect that. That thought process was banished when he heard her start to scream. “Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh GOD! HARRY! HARRYYYYY!”
She was masturbating. Getting herself off. To him. Once again, his cock seemed to react viscerally to her voice- her pure, orgasmic pleasure as she called out his name. He was paralyzed by conflicting desires. There was the urge to tug down his pants and jerk one out, right there onto the floor, it might only take one stroke. There was another urge the burst in there and do… and do… do something. With a force of will, he acted on neither impulse. Instead, he steeled himself, pushed in the door, and heard her nearly wail “No!”. It was a noise of immense frustration and despair, and Harry felt his lust become tempered by sympathy. She must be having the same problem he’d had with masturbation, only she was affected so much worse by the potion.
Hermione let out a piteous sob, and then a series of rhythmic grunts, underscored by a soft schlick that Harry could hardly bring himself to contemplate. “Uhn. Uhn. Uhn. Uhn. Uhn. Uhn. UHN! UHN! UHHHH! OH! OH! OH!” Her grunts increased in volume and intensity, until the morphed into the noises Harry had heard from her earlier “OOOOH! OOOOH! HARRY! HARRYYYYY!” The entire process might have lasted about a minute. How long had it been since she left? Fifteen minutes?
Finally, his compassion and guilt overpowered the chaotic vortex of emotions roiling within him and compelled him to act. He rapped on the door solidly. Hermione went silent, and Harry belatedly realized she’d have no idea it was him “Hermione, its me.”
“Harry?” Hermione asked, her voice quivering and strained.
“Yes, its me. Its okay. We can work through this.” Harry had no idea what he was doing, he was just saying words and hoping they would improve the situation.
He heard the ruffling of clothes from Hermione’s stall. She didn’t take long, but when Harry saw her, he wondered why she didn’t take longer. Put simply, she looked a mess. She was still remarkably flushed. Her hair, normally untameably bushy, was somehow even messier, with strands hanging in front of her or clinging to her sweat slicked face. Her jacket and dress shirt were haphazardly buttoned, exposing little slivers of bare skin at her stomach and her collar. Her skirt was skewed, hanging downwards on one side.
“Harry!” Hermione repeated when she saw him, stepping forward, but keeping one trembling hand on the stall. “I- I- I-”
“Are you okay?” Dumb question he scolded himself look at her.
“I- I’m not okay.” Hermione said in a wavering voice “I need- I need it.”
Harry didn’t need any clarification on what ‘it’ was. She meant sex. She was asking to have sex with him. The moral question was becoming more and more distant in his mind with Hermione in front of him like this.
“Hermione…” Harry struggled with how to say this “Lets-”
“I know it’s a lot to ask.” Hermione blurted “I can make it up to you. Help you in classes, anything.”
Harry gaped at her “What? No!” He wasn’t going to take payment from her, like this was some sort of transaction. Even if he felt no attraction to her, he’d still do this, if only to help her out.
Hermione sobbed, and Harry realized how that might have been interpreted. “Shite. Sorry. I meant I’m not going to make you do anything for me. We can… do it.”
“Oh, thank god.” Hermione breathed “Thank you.”
She stumbled to him, her hands steading herself on his shoulders as she looked up at him with wanting eyes. She was so close to him, he could feel the heat of her breath against his face, the warm press of her body, the swell of her breasts. He lowered his head as she rose to meet him, and their lips met.
His only reference point for kisses was the one mediocre on with Cho, which hadn’t been much of a kiss at all, they’d both been so hesitant, Harry because he’d been trying not to do something wrong.
This kiss was different, more exploratory from the start. It was warm, it was wet, and he couldn’t help but be aware of the fact that this was Hermione, his best friend, someone who he’d never ever thought he’d do this with.
Hermione let out a small, impatient moan, and then her tongue was invading his mouth sloppily. Her fingers threaded through his hair, keeping their mouths locked together as they stumbled back into the stall. Neither of them really knew what they were doing, but that didn’t stop Hermione from attempting to shove her tongue down his throat.
Harry pressed his body into hers, his needy erection grinding ineffectually against her abdomen while Hermione too was struggling to rub herself against his thigh. He grabbed blindly, and one hand groped her arse. Hermione moaned enthusiastically into his mouth and used the support his grip provided to hook a leg around his waist. It took some time for them to work through their need to mindlessly press their bodies against each other, but after some adjusting Harry was able to lift her up and pin her to the stall. Hermione’s legs hooked around his waist, her skirt riding up so that her panty clad crotch pressed directly against his erection.
Harry thrust forward, pushing his erection into her. Hermione rolled her hips against him in turn, and her mouth fell away from his to let out a series of moans. “Oooooh, oh Harry! I… oh! Oh! Please keep doing that! I’m gonna… I’m gonna…”
Harry wasn’t about to stop, especially when it drove such glorious noises from her. When he thrust once more against her, grinding long and hard into her crotch, and she howled. “Oh GOD YESSSS! HARRYYY!” Her hips jerked forward while her hands spasmodically clutched his back, fingers digging into his shirt.
She was coming, Harry realized. Hermione was coming because of him, because of his cock. His own urgent desperation took over- he needed to come. With a few, long grinding thrusts, Harry grunted and then cried out “Ahn! Ahn! Hermione!” as he painted the inside of his trousers.
“Did you hear that?” The voice broke Harry’s focus away from the last dregs of his orgasm. He acted quickly, grabbing the invisibility cloak, draping it over them, and then clapping a hand to Hermione’s mouth. Their faces nearly touched as the stared into each other’s eyes, Harry’s were focused and intense, while Hermione’s were wild and amorous.
He felt her body tremble against his while he silently willed her to stay quiet as the footsteps came closer. Two young girls peered into the bathroom “Is everyone alright?” one asked.
After a few moments looking around and finding nothing, they shrugged to each other. “C’mon, it was probably Moaning Myrtle.”
It was only after the echoes of their footsteps faded into the distance did Harry dare release her, and no sooner had he when Hermione’s lips found his again. “Herm- Hermione, wait.” He said firmly, grabbing her shoulders. It was bloody hard to resist her, but after that close call, one of them had to have some sense.
But damn him if she wasn’t making it hard to. The way she looked up to him as he restrained her, so sultry, lit him on fire. “Harry.” She moaned, arching her chest against his “Don’t stop now.”
“Not here, we need privacy. The room of requirement.” It had been invaluable to them this year with the DA, now they were going to put it to a perhaps less inventive use.
Hermione had agreed, but she nevertheless just couldn’t keep her hands off him, or her lips. While Harry tried to remain restrained, it has hard to do so when Hermione’s hand was constantly groping his arse. It didn’t help that under the invisibility cloak, they were so close together.
“Hermione.” He hissed, his frustration boiling over when she grabbed at the bulge of his erection. “Can’t you wait five minutes?”
“I’m sorry. I just… can’t. I need it.” This time, she didn’t wait for his assent. She pressed into him, spreading her legs and grinding against his erection with the apex of her thighs. One hand clutched his shirt while the other groped his arse, pulling him against her, her hips twitching into him. Her warm breath wafted against his neck and ear as she moaned “Uhn. Uhn. Oooh! Uhn. Gonna… gonna…”
Harry once again found himself worrying that the noise would give them away, and pushed Hermione into the wall, letting out a soft growl as his mouth descended on hers. He kissed her as firmly as he could, and it was just as well. Hermione whimpered and whined into his mouth as her body shook against his. Her hands clutching at his back and her legs locking around his waist as she rode out her orgasm.
Harry carried Hermione the rest of the way, with her lazily kissing his neck and moaning nothings into his ear while Harry booked it to the room of requirement. I need a place to fuck Hermione. I need a place to fuck Hermione. I need a place to fuck Hermione. Reciting those words, even if only in his mind, made it all the more real to him. He was about to fuck Hermione. His best friend.
Harry wasted no time, once they crossed the threshold, he crashed his lips to Hermione’s. He’d spent the evening holding both of themselves back, knowing how easily they could get caught, but now that they were in private the dam came crashing down, formerly restrained lust surging with force.
This time, Harry was the one to devour Hermione. He aggressively, yet clumsily, plunged his tongue into Hermione’s mouth and hoisted her onto the bed. As he came down on top of her, his hand landed on her breast, and he groped it enthusiastically, viscerally enjoying the feel of her pliant flesh, even if separated by layers of fabric. Hermione didn’t seem to mind his lack of finesse. She had folded like a house of cards in the face of his aggression, and her response to him was limited to whimpering, moaning, trembling, and (when her mouth was available) begging.
“Oh. Please. Please. Please. I need it.” She pleaded as he ravaged her neck, no doubt leaving a hickey or two “I’m so wet. I need you inside me. Oh, please just have sex with me already!”
Her words gave him direction. He’d been more or less mauling her mindlessly, until she’d so eloquently reminded him that there was a reason they were here. It didn’t take much, when it came down to it. He stood up- Hermione watching with rapt attention- and shucked off his trousers. His briefs, stained from his earlier orgasm, followed right after, and Harry felt relief as his cock was finally free of its confines. He doubted he’d ever been as urgently hard in his life, and even as he thought this, his cock throbbed involuntarily, engorging a bit more with each pulse. He was already slick from his earlier climax, but he also leaked out pre-cum with each pulse of his cock that now glistened on his cockhead.
The way Hermione was looking at him, at his cock, could have been pulled out of his fantasies. She was transfixed, her eyes black with desire, her mouth parted open and her tongue was swiping across her lips as a series of low, breathy moans escaped them. She looked ravenous. She’d tried to do her part, to remove her skirt and knickers, but her hands were trembling so terribly that they were useless, and all of her attention had been diverted the minute his trousers had hit the floor and the outline of his cock had been visible in his briefs.
Harry wasn’t about to wait for Hermione to snap out of it. With quick, decisive motions, he pulled down her skirt and knickers. Her legs parted of their own accord, giving him a perfect view of her sex. She had a proper bush, which was soaked with her arousal, her thighs were also slick and practically dripping. Her slit, though, seemed to be weeping. Her sex seemed as flushed and swollen as his, and it was throbbing rhythmically. Meanwhile, glassy eyed stare remained locked on his cock as she moaned. “Uhhh. Uhhh. Uhhh.”
Wait.
Was she coming?
Feeling like he was about to miss the train, Harry scrambled on top of her and fumbled to place his cockhead at her entrance. Not knowing what else to do, he thrusted forward. It didn’t seem to catch at first, but after shifting slightly, he got the angle right and oh.
Many things would occur to Harry as he reflected on this moment later that night. It was shockingly easy to push himself in, once he got the angle right. He glided into her so easily that before he knew it he had completely sheathed himself. Nothing could have prepared him for how it felt- to have his achingly sensitive rod enveloped by a woman’s velvety warmth and wetness. He’d never be able to go back to masturbating, his hand couldn’t compare, nothing could compare. So intense it was, that it had blanked his mind the instant he was inside her.
None of these observations would occur to him until later, in the moment the entirety of Harry’s experience was his cock. He didn’t think, consider, or decide anything, all he did was cum. It was almost an insult to compare anything Harry had brought himself to before this encounter to what he was feeling now. If those had been orgasms, then this was a rapture. A pulsing, exploding, purging euphoria, surging through his shaft, churning in his core, and echoing throughout his entire body. He had no idea how long he was like this, moaning and chanting Hermione’s name over and over, emptying himself into her perfect pussy.
He wouldn’t know how Hermione had reacted. How her eyes had rolled back the moment he was at her entrance. How she had squealed as he entered her, how her arousal had sprayed from her cunt, coating Harry’s lower body, how her hands had clutched him close, clenching at his back, and her legs had clamped around his waist, trying to bring him impossibly closer. She howled, and wept, and cried out to the heavens, her entire body shaking as her pussy pulsed around his cock, greedily drinking in every drop of his seed he had to offer.
When Harry came to, his body was still feeling the aftershocks of his climax. His fingers and toes tingled pleasantly, and his cock was still at attention and in the grip of Hermione’s inner flesh. Hermione, for her part, was still moaning softly and trembling as her inner muscles contracted around him.
Harry tried to unsheathe himself, but Hermione wasn’t having it. “No!” She cried out, looking positively unhinged. Her bushy hair was a tangled mess with stray strands clinging to her face, which was wet with sweat and tears. “More. I need more.” She’d lifted her head so that their faces were scarcely an inch apart. There was a wild, deeply desperate look in her eyes that had Harry worried for her, worried that this potion had affected her far too much.
But that brief moment of lucidity was snuffed out as her legs clamped down around his waist once more. He could have fought it, but as he began to sink back into her femininity, the addictive sensation robbed him of any ability to resist. A few short thrusts were all it took for him to spill himself inside her once more. His staying power once again proved nonexistent, but Hermione couldn’t care less. She was gone the moment he’d re-sheathed himself, if she’d ever been ‘there’ at all.
He truly did try to perform for her, to last longer and make sure she was satisfied. But that damn potion… it didn’t matter how many times he’d cum. He’d steel himself as he entered her, and through gritted teeth and frustrated tears the longest he’d lasted was a few thrusts. Thankfully the potion had also taken away Harry’s refractory period completely, allowing him to continue thrusting. The true saving grace, however, was that despite his rather pitiful performance, Hermione was acting like he was a sex god. His every, shuddering thrust was met with moans of euphoria, writhing, and trembling from his partner. When he came (as he did many times) she would lock down around him, ensuring his cock was lodged as deeply as possible, usually grunting rhythmically with his orgasm as she squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip with an expression of intense pleasure.
Harry rather suspected that Hermione in the thrall of one, long orgasm, or perhaps a long series of peaks that blended together. Either way, if he could have been said to ‘fail’ his partner, it wasn’t due to his staying power but physical stamina (and very likely, simply receiving a lower dose of the potion). After an indeterminate time of constant thrusting and orgasming, he finally collapsed, resting his sweat slick body against Hermione’s.
“Harry… please… please…” Hermione whimpered piteously in a not quite coherent plea for him to continue. However, she was in no better a state than he, and could only wriggle her hips up into his.
Harry, now that he had a moment to breathe, found that he was actually somewhat sated. With his mind partially clearing, he turned his attention entirely to satisfying Hermione. She whined with such a desperation as he pulled away from her that he felt guilty, but he quickly assuaged her by kneeling between her legs. He’d well and truly fucked her, he’d cum in her again and again, and now he was dribbling out of her. On the one hand, it stoked a sense of masculine pride at having claimed her, filled her with his seed. On the other, if he were sober minded he’d have cringed at the thought of licking up his own cum. But in the heat of the moment he had no such compunctions, he had a mission, and nothing was getting in the way of that.
Harry had no idea how to properly eat out a girl, but Hermione would make it incredibly easy on him. His first, experimental lick along the length of her slit had her moaning loudly and arching her back. The following probing motions of his tongue were also welcomed enthusiastically, but it was when he found her clit, that nub that he knew was supposed to be exquisitely sensitive under normal conditions, that he got the most intense response of the entire evening.
The instant his tongue grazed against the sensitive nub, Hermione sat bolt upright, her body going rigid. He looked up from her curls, meeting her eyes. In them was something a nameless plea, an unspoken surrender. Harry kept his eyes locked with hers, demanding she meet his gaze as he deliberately descended on her, pressing his lips to her clit and sucking. She didn’t moan, she didn’t scream, she hardly made any noise other a barely audible, guttural, strangled noise in her throat. Yet her eyes told him everything, he could just see her brain melting down, turning to molten mush and then (metaphorically, of course) dribbling out of her ears. Her entire body was trembling, like she was shaking apart beneath him.
He’d never felt so powerful as he did now, with his lips wrapped around Hermione’s clit. He’d robbed her of her ability to speak, to move, to think, to even breathe. He could not have been more in control of her if he’d put her under the imperious, and he was barely even sucking. He wondered how she’d react if he increased the suction just a bit more…
Oh.
It was a bit anticlimactic, but it was also almost a relief. She had collapsed. After checking that she was just asleep, not dead. Harry sighed and crawled into bed next to her, feeling quite ready to join her.
Until his pesky brain reminded him that if he and Hermione stayed the night in this room, they’d be facing a lot of questions that only had one answer. Damn.
He was tired, very tired. But he looked at Hermione, who looked, at last, peaceful and content, and knew he couldn’t let her down.
“Err, can we get some invigoration draught?” He asked the room at large. “And a shower.”