From Bad to Worse

Disclaimer: I don’t own them. I just like to, erm—play with them sometimes. :D

Author’s Note: Just so you know, yes I realize that Harry is OOC, he’s supposed to be. Hermione is a little too, I know, but keep in mind, by the time this story starts she’s used to this relationship. Ta!
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Harry Potter likes to sleep naked. That was one of the many things that Hermione knew about him that few other people did.

He likes to sleep naked, he’s ticklish just behind his ear, and a good blow job will make his eyes roll back in his head in a way that’s almost scary.

He snores when he’s really tired, or when he sleeps on his back. He likes to sleep on the left side of the bed, but isn’t terribly picky about it and has been known to sleep on top of or under anyone who happens to be in the bed with him. He can actually sleep almost anywhere, as long as he can stretch his legs out, but his favorite position is on his stomach with one arm under his head.

If he’s sleeping with someone, he likes to be the spooner, and not the spoonee, because someone breathing on his neck while he’s trying to sleep irritates him.

Whether or not he wants to cuddle after sex depends on the kind of sex he had. If it was rough and wild, he usually wants to be left alone while he’s coming down from it. If it was soft and sweet, he’s fine with being held for a bit afterwards. And if he has no attachment whatsoever to the girl he’s just fucked, which has happened on more than a few occasions, he most likely won’t stick around long enough to come down from it.

If, however, he spends the night, which he sometimes does, he may at any time decide to wake up whoever he’s with for another round. And one more round often leads to two or three more. His personal record for one weekend is 16 times between Friday night and Monday morning. He walked funny for a week afterward, but Hermione had never seen him so relaxed.

He can do things with his tongue that can make a girl scream, and prides himself on that fact. He can’t get off from being ridden, unless he’s almost there anyway, and he has a fascination with female asses that borders on obsession.

Hermione could name a million things about Harry that no one else really knew. Even Ron didn’t know some of them. Many of them, Hermione had learned from experience, and she hadn’t shared them with Ron because, well, she’d learned them from experience. Experiences that Ron didn’t know about. Experiences that she hoped Ron would never know about.

She’d had one of those "experiences" last night, and her legs ached so bad, she’d barely been able to get out of bed. Harry hadn’t, yet, bothered to get out of bed. He watched her as she crossed the room to her dresser, towel drying her hair. "I have to go see my mum, but you can hang out here until I get back if you want. I won’t be long."

"All right," he said, and she heard the bed squeak as he moved.

"I just went to the store, so there’s plenty to eat and I saved you some hot water if you need a shower. Oh, and you’ll have to put your clothes in the dryer, because I didn’t get a chance to yet."

"Right. Thanks."

She sighed, pulling a clean pair of knickers and a matching bra from the drawer. "Molly might be popping in to tell me how the wedding plans are going, so make sure you’re up and dressed soon."

"I’m already up," he said, and she heard the grin in his voice.

He had snuck up behind her as she spoke, and was now pressed against her back, wrapping his arms around her. "How soon do you have to leave?" he whispered against her ear.

She moaned, both at the contact and from the thought of having him in her again. She was sore and tired, and yet, she really, really wanted him again. "I’m sorry, Harry, but I really do have to go."

"Five minutes," he said, moving his mouth down to her neck.

"I can’t, Harry." Who did he think he was kidding? Five minutes? A "quickie" for Harry was always at least half an hour. Of course, he always made it worth her while to wait, too.

"Come on, Hermione," he whispered, slipping his hand into the front of her robe. "Come back to bed for a minute."

She moaned again as his fingers rubbed over her nipple. "Harry, I can’t. Please. I have to go."

"You can. In a few minutes." He untied her robe and backed off just enough to pull it off her shoulders. He ran his fingers over her hips, tugging her back against him and she sighed as she felt his hard cock press into her ass cheeks. She bent almost automatically, knowing him well enough to know what he wanted. She put her hands on the dresser top and held on for dear life.

He laughed softly, bending with her so he could place a kiss on her spine. "Where do you want it?"

"Well, ungh." He slid a finger into her and curled it, slightly, stroking her sensitive front wall. "Considering that the lube is—oh god—over there somewhere, I’m saying—ooooh, Harry."

He knelt, holding onto her hips and opening her with his thumbs. His tongue slid over her and she bucked wildly. "God, you’re wet," he muttered, taking a deep breath before lapping at her again.

"Yeah, you---oh fuck, Harry---tend to do that to me."

He let out a soft moan that sent shockwaves through her. He paused a second and she heard the soft clink of his glasses hitting the floor before he started in again. She gripped the dresser until her knuckles were white, raising up onto her toes to give him better access. She let her eyes slide shut and her head fall forward. He was so damned amazing.

Of course, he pulled back as soon as he felt her tense up, and she sighed. He couldn’t just let her go. That would be too damned easy.

His fingers pushed into her gently and he groaned. "Damn, Hermione."

She laughed softly, turning her head so she could see him. "What’d I tell you? You do it to me every time."

"I try," he said, wiping sweat off his forehead, his thumb came up and brushed her clit and she bucked again. "Still too hot," he said, more to himself than to her.

He leaned in and dropped a kiss on her bare ass. "Harry," she laughed. "I really do have to g—OH!"

He grinned. "Oops, sorry."

"You bit me!" she cried, bringing her hand around to rub the now sore spot on her left cheek.

"It was an accident."

"Right. Accident my left arse cheek. Just for that, I’m leaving right—oh god. Oh God! Ungh! Five minutes, Harry. You have five minutes."

His thumb pressed harder against her clit. "Can’t do it right in five minutes," he said, grinning as she let out of soft cry.

"You could have sent me over the edge five minutes ago and that would have been perfect for me."

He scoffed. "Not even close." He moved his thumb and went to work with his tongue again and she sighed in relief.

"You are so goooood at this," she moaned. She felt him grin, but he didn’t stop his work. She leaned her forehead on her arm, feeling her legs start to go weak. "God, Harry," she whispered, her breath beginning to catch.

He pulled his mouth back and stood quickly. She gasped at the loss of contact, but only for second. Then, he was pressing his cock against her and she thrust backward, trying to get him inside her as quickly as possible. He grasped her hips and held her still. "Easy there," he chuckled, brushing against her again. "If I go in now, you’re going to pop."

"If you don’t go in now, I’m going to strangle you," she grunted.

He laughed, wrapping an arm around her and rubbing, gently this time, at her clit.

"Haaarrryyyy," she moaned, her voice rough.

"God, I love it when you make that sound."

"Umph."

"All right, all right." He continued to work on her clit as he moved his other hand around to stroke his hardened cock. He positioned himself at her opening, then slid into her, and they groaned in unison.

He stayed still a minute, and she had to look up at the mirror in front of them so she could see the look on his face. Rapturous. That was the only way to describe it.

She loved that she could make him feel like that. She loved putting that look on his face. She winced as she wondered if anyone else got to see him with that look.

Then he was moving, slowly, deliberately. He grunted as she tightened her walls around him, and she smiled as she saw his chest tighten with a heaving breath. His eyes slid open and he smirked at her image in the mirror. "Tell me how you want it," he said, digging his fingers into her hips.

Thing number 897 that most people didn’t know about Harry. He loved to hear her talk dirty.

"Fast and deep," she grinned. "Fuck me fast and deep."

He knew how she wanted it. He didn’t have to ask. He knew her so well that she wondered if he wasn’t using Legilimens on her. He only asked because he liked to hear her say it.

He kept moving slowly, his grip on her now stinging slightly. "Will you scream for me?"

"If you do it right, definitely."

He grinned the most evil grin he possessed. "I always do it right."

She had never figured out how he could manage fast and deep without being too rough about it, but somehow he did. He could do fast, deep and hard too. There were times when she felt like being pounded and he was spectacular about giving it to her. As sore as she was, though, she didn’t want hard. She wanted easy, and he gave it to her.

He pushed into her until he was completely buried, then pulled back, almost coming all the way out. Again. And again.

She dropped her head again, grunting in time with his thrusts. Yes, she was definitely going to be screaming in a few minutes. Thank God for the silencing charms on the apartment or the bobbies would have been visiting her place almost constantly.

She pulled a hand away from the dresser to reach between her legs and touch her clit. She didn’t have to. He would have gotten her there wonderfully on his own. She just really wanted to be grinding against something at that moment.

He reached one hand down and moved hers away, replacing it with his own. He didn’t even really have to try. With every thrust, she would be pushed down and across his callused fingers and it felt absolutely incredible.

"Harder," she moaned. "Fuck me harder."

Okay, so maybe she wasn’t that sore after all.

He started thrusting with more force, not as hard as she knew he could, but hard enough. A few more strokes and she came, growling out a scream and grinding back against him. "Harry!" she cried. "FUCK! HARRY!"

Her knees gave out and she felt his arms go around her, holding her up. "Hold on, Hermione," he said, lifting her weight. "Just stay up for one more second."

Incredibly, he had never stopped thrusting. He pushed into her twice more, then grunted out his own orgasm, teeth clenched, eyes squeezed shut. Then, somehow, he lowered them to the floor so that she was sitting on his lap, leaning back against him like a rag doll.

His head was laying forward on her shoulder, his panting breaths tickling across her back. She couldn’t even think about moving at the moment, and she wondered if she’d ever be able to again. Her arms hung limply at her sides and she let every bit of her weight rest on Harry as she tried desperately to get her breath back.

"Harry," she gasped.

"Uh?" he managed between rasping breaths.

"One of these—days—you’re going to—be the—death—of me."

"Fmpf."

"Exactly."

He let go of her, collapsing back onto the floor. She couldn’t help but follow. She managed to roll herself just enough so that she was sprawled across him on her stomach. He let out a small exasperated sigh.

"I know," she said, rolling her eyes. "But I honestly can’t get off you just yet. You’re just going to have to live with it for a minute."

He made no move to hold her, but he also didn’t push her off of him. She considered that a good thing. His breathing was beginning to slow already, and she knew that he was already coming down. It didn’t take him long, no matter how good the sex was.

She heaved her weight to one side, rolling off of him and onto the floor, and he didn’t stop her. He lifted a hand and wiped his forehead, letting out a much more contented sigh. "I’m bloody starving," he said, blowing out a long breath. That was her Harry. So damned romantic.

"There’s food in the fridge," she muttered. "But get dressed before you go out there, in case Molly pops up in the fire."

He laughed softly. "I still think she suspects something."

"She would have told Ron if she did. You know she would."

"Are you still going with him to the wedding?"

She nodded. "Are you still bringing what’s-her-name? Kimberly?"

"Kaitlyn. And yes. You really don’t like her, do you?"

"She’s a snot, Harry. Who would like her?"

"Eh, she’s not so bad if you just ignore her when she talks."

Hermione rolled her eyes, turning over onto her side and propping herself up on her elbow. "And she doesn’t mind that you ignore her?"

He shrugged. "I don’t think she knows I’m doing it. Besides, she gives great head, and she doesn’t care if I don’t call her for a while."

She shook her head. "What a winner."

"Oh well. They can’t all be, can they?"

She watched him for a minute, wondering if it was safe to lay her head on his shoulder yet. He seemed to be relaxed enough, so she scooted closer, curling her body against his. He slid his arm around her shoulder and played idly with her hair. "I still can’t believe Ginny’s getting married."

Harry laughed softly. "I can. I’m actually amazed that she waited this long for it. I know she always preached that she didn’t need a man to be happy, but I can’t count the number of times she tried to talk me into it when we were together."

"I’m glad she invited you to the wedding, though."

"Because Molly made her, I’m sure. Don’t count on any touching reunion scenes, because it isn’t going to happen."

"You’ll try, though, won’t you?"

He snorted. "I’m not going to treat her like shit on her wedding day, if that’s what you’re asking."

"I didn’t say that, Harry."

"I know," he said, chuckling. "I’ll be nice. I swear."

"Thank you."

"What’s say we go back to bed for a while."

"I can’t. I’m already late to meet Mum."

"Call and tell her that you’re not feeling well. Then you can stay in bed all day and I’ll take care of you."

She groaned. "Please, God, Harry. Tell me that you’re not already thinking about sex again."

"Well, I’m actually thinking of a sandwich first, but a shag is second on the list."

"How the hell can you still be horny?" she said, leaning her head back to look at him.

"Why wouldn’t I be? We just did it once."

"This morning, yeah. We did it twice last night, too. And once yesterday afternoon. So that’s four times in 24 hours."

"Wanna’ make it five?" he grinned, waggling his eyebrows.

"Go call Kaitlyn already," she moaned, rolling away from him. "I’m out of business for the day."

He sighed, grabbing her hand. "Hold on. Come here." She rolled back to face him and he put a hand on the back of her head. "Can I at least have a kiss?"

She lowered her head and caught his mouth in a deep kiss. He ran his tongue across her lips, tangling his hands in her hair. There was always something so needy in the way he kissed. It wasn’t there when they were doing anything else, but when he kissed her, he clung to her as though he would suffocate if she stopped.

And he could kiss for hours on end without ever going any further, if she let him. She let him slide his tongue past her lips and he moaned against her mouth. That sound was nearly enough to make her rethink the "out of business" thing, but when she moved to get closer to him, her lower body screamed in protest.

She pulled back, sighing. "I really do need to go," she whispered, and he grudgingly let go of her. "Tell you what," she said, giving him another quick peck. "Stick around until I get home, I’ll cook a nice dinner, we can watch some TV, and I’ll take some of that potion you bought for me."

He grinned, quirking an eyebrow at her. "Sounds good."

She climbed to her feet, moaning at the pain. "The death of me."

"Sorry," he said, not sounding the least bit sorry.

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered, stepping gingerly into a pair of clean knickers. "Go take a shower. You’re starting to smell."

He laughed. "I just had a shower last night. How can I stink already?"

"All the physical exertion, I’m sure." She fastened her bra, then pulled a simple summer dress out of her closet and slipped it over her head. "Have you seen my sandals?"

He glanced over from where he was laying and nodded toward the bed. "They’re under there."

"You know, you should probably think about getting off the floor."

"All right."

She rolled her eyes, pulling her shoes out from under the bed and sliding her feet into them. "I’ll be back shortly."

"Have fun."

He was still laying on the floor when she left.