Interhouse Relations

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe and all the characters are property of J.K. Rowling and whomever else has a finger in the huge franchise. I do not. I make no money nor do I claim any ownership of the people, places, and things (unless I make them up as we go). It is only to have some fun do I write this story, in hopes of some entertainment.

Warning: This chapter contains scenes with course language, nudity, and explicit sexuality. Reader discretion is advised.


Hermione Granger couldn’t sleep. She hated it when sleep eluded her. It meant she would be tired the next day. It meant that she would be cranky and irritable and would probably not be as attentive in class as she normally was. Worst of all, it meant that she wouldn’t dream. Dreams were her way of living a better life. A fantasy life. In her dreams, she was beautiful and popular and loved by all. In her dreams she was successful and fulfilled and happy. Weren’t dreams wonderful? Real life was so much less wonderful. Don’t get her wrong, she was content with her life. She had two of the best friends a girl could ask for in Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. The only problem was the fact that they treated her like one of the boys. Sure, they both knew she wasn’t a boy, but they didn’t treat her like a girl either. Also, in real life, she WAS successful in school, she wasn’t so much anywhere else. She had no boyfriend (Harry and Ron didn’t count) and it seemed like that would be a long term proposition.

She sighed heavily.

Climbing down the stairs to the Gryffindor common room, carrying a rather large book titled “Charms for the House: How to Live Magically”, Hermione plopped down in the big easy chair in front of the fire place. The hearth glowed warmly and Hermione smiled merrily as she opened her book.

She read for a bit, but soon found the words begin to flutter past her eyes, flowing together unintelligibly. For once in her life (alright, more like three times) the young witch found her mind wandering whilst she tried to read. It had been like that all day. Well, since dinner time at any rate. Every time she tried to focus on some task, be it school work or some light reading, her mind began to wander in directions that her mind just didn’t wander to on its own. She couldn’t put a finger on just where her mind wanted to go, but she was sure it was a not so innocent a place.

Hermione felt a little flushed. She felt perspiration bead her forehead and neck which dribbled down her back causing her to shiver. It would have been almost pleasant but for the constant tingling between her legs. It felt like liquid fire. Not unpleasant, but definitely not very welcome either. This kind of feeling was reserved for long hot bubble baths where she could slip under the flowing faucet with its hot flowing water. Her flannel pyjamas were beginning to be uncomfortably hot and she squirmed a little in her seat. A red haze coloured her vision and she moaned lightly in discomfort.

Looking about the common room nervously, the witch decided that it was late enough at night that she wouldn’t be disturbed. No one was silly enough to be out of bed at this time of night. She rolled her eyes at the realization that she WAS out of bed at this time of night, but dismissed that as a fluke. With another anxious glance around the room, Hermione stood up and slipped off her pyjama bottoms. She smoothed her hands over the shirt, trying to get the top to grow longer somehow. If she was thinking straight she would have used her wand to transfigure the shirt a bit longer. If she was thinking straight she wouldn’t have taken her pyjama bottoms off in the first place. If she was thinking straight she wouldn’t have spread her legs as she reclined in the chair.

The fire crackled in the hearth and the heat licked her exposed body. The warmth radiating from the blaze seemed to be drawn to her core. She could feel its effect on her body. Hermione could imagine her veins pumping fire instead of blood. It was so hot that the young witch was finding it difficult to breath. She picked up her wand and with a flick of the wrist opened a window to let a cool breeze in. She shivered at the touch of the November wind tickling her flesh bringing goose bumps along her thighs. The air tickled her body and felt icy between her legs. Tentatively, she ran her fingers down her belly and over her secret lips. A soft gasp escaped her mouth as her finger brushed over her clit.

“Oh my!” she breathed breathlessly. With her eyes closed, Hermione rubbed her clit a little more vigorously. The friction on that most sensitive bud brought another gasp from her pouty lips. She could feel the wetness seep out of her. Squeezing hers eyes shut tight, she was surprised to note that she was more turned on than she had ever been before. Her thoughts hadn’t even been on anyone. Not Harry. Not Ron. And certainly not Severus Snape. Her eyes snapped open as that thought flickered past her brain. She shuddered in revulsion. Where had the thought of that dark, brooding, mysterious, dangerous man come from? Why was the thought of his long fingers gliding over her skin suddenly traipsing through her mind? What was the image of his lean, pale physique standing before her doing in her fantasy?

“Oh God,” she muttered in horror. “That is so wrong.”

The loathsome image of her Potions Master standing before her starkers, running his slender fingers over her delicate flesh brought a soft moan from her mouth. She could almost feel the soft touch of his hands on her skin. The smooth fingertips as they probed her pussy, the rough texture of his tongue as he licked her clit.

Wait a minute. Rough texture of his tongue? Since when does a man have a rough tongue.

Hermione clenched her eyes shut as the rough tongue licked over her clit once again. She let out a keening yelp as a bolt of pleasure shot through her. Her body bucked underneath her. Opening her eyes she looked anxiously between her legs. The sight that greeted her almost made her pass out.

Standing on his hind legs, his front feet on the cushion in front of Hermione, was Crookshanks, her cat. His big furry head was between her legs and his pink tongue was laving her clit continuously. The cat’s whiskers tickled her inner thighs as he licked greedily at the sweet nectar that the girl produced in her passion. The purring of the cat was louder than even the crackle of the fire and it rumbled through the cat.

“Oh, good boy Crookshanks. Good boy!” Hermione moaned louder. The cat’s ears twitched at the compliment but the feline didn’t look up. The young witch was finding it impossible to sit still. She bucked ever so slightly under the cat’s feast. She brought her hand to the cat’s head and stroked the soft fur. Crookshanks began to growl as well as to purr and the combined sound was like that of a motor from a muggle car engine that just wouldn’t turn over.

Much to Hermione’s dismay, Crookshanks looked up suddenly. Hermione groaned and tried to pull the cat back to her needy body, but the feline ducked his head and jumped down to the floor and padded away silently. “Come back Crookshanks,” Hermione pleaded, desperation in her voice. “Come back to Mummy, baby.”

“Hermione?” a quiet tentative voice whispered from behind the chair. Hermione let out a startled squeak as she craned her neck to see who was behind her. She let out a tiny gasp of horror as her eyes locked with Neville Longbottom’s. Pulling her knees to her chest, the embarrassed witch curled up into a ball to try to escape the bewildered boy.

To say Neville was surprised to hear his very reserved classmate panting and pleading for her cat to continue… Neville shook his head, trying to rid the image of… He shuddered involuntarily. He stepped up to the back of the large chair and looked down at the huddled form of the girl. His eyes strayed to her exposed legs and alighted along their smooth length. A lump formed in his throat (and a bigger one in his pants) as he scanned her bronze legs. Even folded as they were in front of her, the supple gams were superb. The fact that Neville could see the curve of her arse only made the sight all the more appealing.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked lamely.

Hermione snorted in mortified amusement. “Something like that,” she said very quietly. She looked up, her eyes filled with unshed tears, both of shame and frustration. The dam of tears did not burst though as the two teens looked at one another. Hermione could see the deep blush on Neville’s cheeks and there was something in his eyes that was out of place. Something that she had never seen in his eyes, nor directed at her by anyone. Carefully, she unfurled her legs and let her feet touch the downy carpet in front of the chair. She scooted lower and looked up carefully.

Neville reached down and put his meaty hands on her shoulders and squeezed gently. When Hermione sighed blissfully, he began to rub and caress her stress filled skin. “Oh, Neville that’s nice.”

“Mione?” he said very quietly, almost so low that the witch didn’t hear. “Would you show me…”

Hermione turned rich chocolate eyes to him. “Show you what Neville?” she asked, a hint of seduction in her voice.

Neville blushed, his face and neck turning a bright red. “Would you show me what you were doing before? I mean, I’ve never… Um, I’ve heard…. Uh, in my dreams…”

Hermione took pity on him and grasped his hand. She gave a reassuring squeeze and slowly parted her legs. Neville’s eyes grew wide as Hermione began to unbutton her shirt to fully expose her body to the boy. Her short curly hair over her pussy shone in the light of the fireplace and she could feel the liquid heat begin again to seep out of her. She brought her knees up to her chest and clung to her legs. With her legs so far back, her cunt was now facing the ceiling and Neville had a bird’s eye view of her treasure box.

“Come around in front, Neville,” she instructed.

Dutifully Neville stalked to the front of the chair on shaky legs. He stared with rapt wonder at the sight before him. Never in his life (except in his dreams) had he believed that he would be looking at a girl as he was. She was open and exposed to his stare and he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He groaned loudly as her fingers slipped over her wet skin. Her little fingers pulled her lips open, showing how pink she was, showing the tunnel to his dreams fulfilled.

Neville dropped to his knees between her legs. Afraid to touch her in case she disappeared in a wisp of smoke, he took a deep breath. Her rich fragrance wafted to his nostrils and made his head spin. Never taking his eyes from her pink petalled skin, Neville bent forward and kissed her lightly. Hermione sighed in pleasure feeling his warm lips on her searing pussy.

“I’ve always wanted to do this ‘Mione,” Neville whispered. “You’ve been so kind to me, helping me with potions and everything else. I wanted to thank you. Properly.”

Hermione smiled kindly. He was so polite and sweet. “Neville,” she said. “Shut up.” She suppressed a giggle at the shocked look on his face. Playing with him, she put on a frown but kept her knees pulled to her chest. “I don’t want you saying thank you. What I want is for you to thank me a different way.”

Neville fell back on his heels and looked at her with a confused crinkle around his eyes. Hermione couldn’t stop the chuckle which caused her body to wiggle. Neville dropped his eyes to her body and gulped in a lungful of air. “How?” he asked shyly.

Hermione closed her eyes and leaned her head back against an arm rest so she could see Neville. “Lick me. Kiss me. Suck me.”

“L…like your cat was doing?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed. Now he was getting it. Neville had always been a little slow on the uptake. “Please Neville.”

Neville glanced into Hermione’s eyes, brown pools of rich chocolate. They were darkened by lust. They were hypnotizing. He was drowning in them. He started as a hand caressed his cheek. Blinking away the haze, Neville smiled bashfully before leaning forward and kissing Hermione’s magical lips again. The sound of her small moan filled him with pride as he sucked lightly, pulling the skin away from her body before letting it fall back against her body. The sheen of his saliva and her growing arousal coated her pink skin and she shone in the firelight. Neville prayed that this wonderful dream never ended.

Hermione began to squirm under Neville’s lips. His tongue probed her body and licked up the flowing wetness. When he accidentally stroked her nexus of nerves she gasped loudly and arched her back. “Oh God Neville,” she panted, her chest heaving. “Right there. Right there Neville.”

Neville smiled happily at the reaction the girl before him was having. It was from him. He was doing something right. He never did anything right. His grandmother was quick to remind him of that. ‘Well look at me now, Granny,’ he thought victoriously.

Following Hermione’s pleas to lick her ‘right there’, Neville slid his tongue over her hooded nub. His tongue parted the skin and exposed her and still he licked. Hermione was groaning and moaning continuously as the boy licked her. When her smooth legs wrapped around his neck and pulled him tighter to her, Neville fell forward even more. His mouth closed over her clit and Hermione cried out loudly as the pleasure overwhelmed her senses. Wetness squirted from her body and filled Neville’s mouth. He sucked it back and moaned happily at the taste. So sweet. Better than any pastry or candy his Grandmother had ever made. It was intoxicating. It was addicting. He wanted more and more.

Hermione’s legs relaxed their hold on Neville’s neck and fell to the floor on either side of the teen. Still he kissed her and licked her. He finally touched her then with his hands. His fingers caressing her legs, squeezing her flesh. She seemed so relaxed now. Her breathing was slow and regular, her chest rising and falling with each exhalation. When Neville looked up at the girl he thought she was asleep. Her eyes were closed and she wore a tiny satisfied grin.

With a raging erection, Neville was quite frustrated. This little encounter was more than he had hoped for, but not enough. He needed to find some release. He looked over Hermione’s body as she lied there. So beautiful in her sleep, Neville didn’t want to wake her. Instead, he sat back and while he gazed upon her glorious nudity, his hand wrapped around his prick.

Light moaning roused Hermione from her doze. She fought the waking tooth and nail. No way did she want to open her eyes. She felt so relaxed, so content at that moment that to open her eyes would be to ruin her tranquility. The panting was getting louder and more heated and too distracting to ignore. Slowly Hermione opened her eyelids just enough to see out. Through her eyelashes, through the slit of her opened eyes that barely let her peek out, she spied Neville kneeling on the floor in front of her. His pyjamas were open and his thick cock was in his hand as he pumped it furiously. Her brown eyes opened wide in shock and a small gasp escaped her throat.

Neville looked up into her face quickly, tearing his eyes from her glistening pink pussy. His face turned pink with embarrassment and he tried to hastily shove his prick back into his pants. “Don’t do that Neville,” Hermione said softly as she leaned forward.

Hermione knelt down in front of him and cupped his face with her hands. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. You wore me out.” Her seductive grin made the boy blush even more and a shy smile washed over his face, making him look even younger. Hermione bent forward and pressed her full lips against his in a soft kiss. Neville sighed as Hermione sucked on his lips. His breath vanished from his lungs as he felt a warm hand touch him, delicate fingers wrapping around his dick. “You’re such a sweet boy, Neville. Why don’t you take my seat. It’s my turn to kneel on the floor in front of you.”

Neville slowly stood, wobbling slightly. His bobbing cock weaved in the air and he tried to cover it up. Hermione batted his hands away. “Don’t hide Neville. Be proud of what you have.” Hermione licked her lips as Neville sat down. Shuffling forward on her knees, Hermione pushed his legs apart and moved closer. She kissed his thighs lightly, her eyes gazing sweetly into his. Gathering her bushy hair and holding it to the side, Hermione ran a finger over his balls, circling each one in a little figure eight.

“Hermione!” Neville squeaked, his body flinching at the touch. “That tickles.”

The young witch giggled. She bent forward and slowly slid her tongue over Neville’s balls making him groan. The warm tongue on his body sent shocks of pleasure shooting throughout his body and he shuddered mightily. His already hard cock seemed to get bigger as Hermione ran her tongue up its length. Cupping his balls, she could feel them tighten, filling with hot cum. She knew he wouldn’t last long.

The painting of the fat lady in the pink dress swung open silently and Harry stepped through the entrance under his invisibility cloak. It was late and he didn’t expect anyone to be up at this time of night… morning… whatever. He was surprised to notice the fire flickering in the hearth still. Usually, it would have burned down and just be smouldering ash by now. From all his late night trips, he should know.

Just as he was about to fling his cloak off, he heard a loud groan. He jumped back and took up a defensive posture. Like he knew anything about Kung-Fu! Harry was glad he was invisible at the moment. Sheepishly he grabbed for his wand and held it at the ready as he crept around to the fire. Someone was in the chair and he meant to find out who. The sight that greeted him froze him to the spot.

Looking over the back of the chair, Harry saw Hermione on her knees. She was holding her hair to the side as she sucked and slurped on a boy’s hard cock. Her other hand stroking the length even as she bobbed her head up and down. He couldn’t breath. Hermione, his Hermione, his best friend, his bossy-know-it-all-bushy haired friend was doing something that he had never imagined she would, could, should be doing, ever. It looked like she was enjoying herself too. Worst of all, it looked like she was good at it. The boy on the chair was gasping and panting and moaning.

“Oh Merlin, Hermione,” the boy huffed.

Eyes widening in horror, Harry stepped closer to the chair and leaned over to see who the boy was, even as he recognized the voice. The confirmation was horrible and frightening. He would be traumatized for life. His wand slipped from his hand and landed with a soft thud in the thick carpet. Neither Hermione nor Neville heard, too busy with each other. ‘Oh Hermione,’ Harry thought desperately. ‘Why didn’t you come to me if you were so desperate for something?’ Harry thought for a moment. Frowning slightly, he just realized he had come from an encounter that he never ever dreamed of either. One that should make him shudder in revulsion. Not only did he just have sex with another boy, but it was Draco Bloody Malfoy. Wasn’t that worse than Neville? ‘Why do I care who Hermione is with? Aren’t I gay now?’

With a small whimper for himself and his innocent Hermione, Harry picked up his wand. He cast another look at his two classmates and cringed as he heard Neville groan with his release. Hermione hummed happily as she drank what the boy offered and the slurping made him wish that he was deaf and blind at that moment. He ran from the room. He would never be able to look at those two the same way again.