A Terrible Temptation

A/N - Yes, this is a romance so they DO have to end up together in the end, but as Ann pointed out in her review, teachers see hundreds of nubile, attractive girls go through their classrooms all the time, it will take extraordinary circumstances for him to fall for her. :) Thanks to Kate for pointing out the moments of \"DOH!\" for me and correcting my English. Oh, and listening to me whinge on and on about my problemsh thh the plot points.

Thanks to: Ancientgirl, LittleBird, Helen, Droxy, Deb, Skjeve (Jamaican Blue Mountain is my roomie\'s fav coffee I only drink tea, so I took her word for it, glad to know she was right), Gwennavierre, tifsuz, Lizski (I so love your fics, its really nice to be able to write something in payment for all the ones you\'ve wriiten), Brian (I was teasing you, honey!), Kiristeen, Ann (I totally agree), Imhillien (I love F&R myself and doubt I could equal it), deeble, Shagsthedustmop, Spaz 144 and Stellar Snape

Chapter 10 – What the Heart Knows

“Miss Granger? If I may have a moment?” Hermione paused and turned as Professor McGonagall came down the stairs behind her. She smiled as the Transfigurations professor nimbly jumped the trick step and caught up with her.

“Good afternoon, Professor.” Hermione returned as the gray-haired woman stopped beside her. She wore a set of tartan robes today with an under-dress of burgundy.

“Are you still interested in Animagus training, Miss Granger?” She lit up at bright-eyed woman’s words. Ever since third year when she had met Sirius and heard about the Marauders she had wanted to try the training herself. Professor McGonagall had insisted that she wait until she was older.

“Of course I’m still interested!” Hermione bounced in happiness and excitement, almost dropping her books.

“Excellent; then we shall meet thrice weekly after your classes and begin.” Hermione was startled by the frequency of the classes, but nodded dumbly in response. Something tickled the back of her mind as the stately Professor glided away. There was something going on, she just knew it.


She ran Harry and Ron to ground out at the Quidditch Pitch. Ron was going over the team’s strategies for this year. He wore his brightly shined Team Captain’s badge on his chest and he was demonstrating something with his hands in an excited tone.

Hermione had kept Harry’s secret faithfully. She had never mentioned to Ron that Harry had been offered the Team Captaincy first and that he had passed on it in favor of his best friend. Ron’s ecstasy at being made captain had been all the explanation she had required.

Harry was flying, chasing the snitch above the field, black hair tossed by the wind, Quidditch robes snapping and billowing as he turned and dived. His lean body was hunched over the broom, his incredible focus bent on catching the snitch. He twisted into a corkscrew dive, following after it and then whipped his broom back up at nearly ground level following the glittering orb. Her stomach dropped with his dive and lifted again when his soaring flight brought him upwards again. He lunged and grabbed the snitch in mid-air, nearly unseating himself on the broom and did a barrel roll of victory to celebrate.

Down below, Ron and the rest of the team were oblivious, except for Ginny who was watching Harry with a sad desperation. There was so much pain in Ginny’s eyes that a demon of guilt upt up residenn Hen Hermione’s belly as she watched. Hermione settled into the stands to watch the practice, thinking about all the evenings she had touched herself thinking of Harry. Ginny was her friend, her best girl friend in fact. Hermione knew, had always known about Ginny’s interest in Harry. Hell, the entire school knew, so how could Hermione forget? How could she even think about Harry at all -- at least that way -- when she knew that it would hurt Ginny so very much?

“Hermione!” Harry waved from the broom and then dived for the stands, pulling up sharply then dropping lightly to the bench beside her. His hair was blown wildly about, his clothes were askew, and there was a fierce delight in his green eyes. “Damn, but I had forgotten how much fun this could be just to fly with no expectations on you, no crowds or competition, just you and your broom.” He looked amazingly attractive in that moment and she sighed inwardly. Think of Ginshe she admonished herself.

“Harry, you’ll never believe what McGonagall said to me.” Hermione ignored both his Quidditch insanity and the fluttering in her stomach.

“Um, she has given you a special project for extra credit?” He drawled with an amused expression.

“No, silly, she has agreed to give me Animagus training!” Hermione was startled by the look on his face. He paled and then frowned.

“Animagus training, is the woman entirely mad?” Harry barked in anger and Hermione flushed.

“What, don’t you think I could do it?” she shouted back at him and he blinked and looked at her in surprise.

“I have no doubt you could master it in record time, Hermione. It doesn’t change the fact that it is a difficult and dangerous process.” Hermione reddened again in embarrassment.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell.” She ducked her head down and watched him through the filter of her hair.

“Try to remember Hermione, that I have never doubted your ability or your intelligence.” He said rather stiffly and looked rather shyly at her as he said this.

“I know Harry and I am sorry. It’s just that I have wanted to do this for years and to finally get the chance makes me so happy.” She was bouncing in place in her seat and she saw his eyes being drawn to her chest, which was moving a half-beat after the rest of her body. He pulled his gaze away, but not before she got a warm rush through her lower belly from the look in his eyes. The way the emerald had darkened to viridian and how he had swallowed hard as he turned away had sent a flood of images into her mind.

“Oy! Harry! Back at it!” Ron called to him and Hermione had a moment’s irritation at Ron’s poor timing as Harry grimaced and remounted his broom.

“Talk to you later ‘Mione.” He flashed her a rueful grin as he darted away on the Firebolt and she felt a part of herself go with him. She looked down, saw Ginny’s head tracking Harry’s progress across the field, and felt another pang of guilt. Where was the book to help her learn about this?


She was flying -- no broom, just her, rushing joyfully through the clouds, watching the world drift by beneath her. Harry flew beside her, a smile on his face and she flew nearer to him until they were wrapped around each other, arms and legs clinging and mouths locked together. The kiss was filled with a hungry need, a strange desperation, as if there was no time to be lost.

They tumbled into a garden, strange plants poking up out of gray soil. The plants all seemed stunted and dry, as though they received neither sufficient sun nor water. Harry ran a hand down her body and caught a breast in his mouth. She wasn’t sure where their clothes had gotten to and it didn’t matter, all that mattered was Harry, his body warm and heavy on top of her and the delicious havoc his hands and mouth were wrecking with her senses.

“Hermione.” He moaned in her ear and she felt his fingers stroking the folds of her opening. He pushed his fingers inside of her and she gasped out his name. He was doing things to her that no one had ever done before; making her feel things that sent her trembling to the brink of something she didn’t understand completely.

“Miss Granger.” A sad voice filled her mind, a voice she knew. She turned her head from Harry and he was standing there, black robes billowing and hands folded in front of him. He looked so unhappy, so alone -- his shadow as it fell on the trysting couple made her shiver. Guilt ripped through her, what was she doing? She shivered and pushed Harry off her, searching for her clothes.

“Hermione?” Harry asked her in confusion, but she knew that something was wrong. She looked up at her Professor, who stood in the deserted garden with her, as still as a statue. He turned suddenly and walked away through a hedgerow, his figure vanishing.

“I’m sorry, Professor.” She called, suddenly alarmed. She turned and Harry was gone as well, she was alone in the stunted garden and the snow began to fall. She turned around looking for him and then began to run through the maze of shrubbery. “Professor?” She called out after him. She had no idea why, but it was urgent that she find him -- find him and explain.

She woke to tears trickling down her cheeks and didn’t understand why she was crying. Crookshanks leapt onto the bed and gave her an orange-eyed glare, settling down on her chest as if to say, “What are you doing awake at this hour, young lady?”

“I had a bad dream.” She muttered, the images already fading from her mind, blown away by her waking thought. Crookshanks began to purr, a low rumbling that set up a vibration in her c tha that soon had her fast asleep again.