Revelations of the Heart

A/N: Thanks as always to my Beta’s: Hamie and WilliamSpike. Now, on with the fic!

- THE DREAM -

Harry awoke with a start; he had been having the strangest dream.

Ron had been lying on the ground beside a snapped broomstick, clutching his leg and moaning, while Harry stood over him and watched. Occasionally Ron would gasp out Harry’s name, indicate towards his bleeding leg, and then return to his agonized moaning. Suddenly, Ron dissolved into a puddle on the ground, which moved about ten meters away from where Harry was standing.

The puddle then started to reform into another person, who had their back to him. This person was also moaning, just as Ron had. From where he stood, Harry could gain no clues as to this new person’s identity. His curiosity had gotten the better of him and he had walked around to the front of the person to see who it was. Hermione was knelt in front of him, with one hand bracing herself on the floor, the other buried down the front of her slacks. She had looked into his eyes and moaned his name, and Harry had awoken.

He lay perfectly still, allowing his eyes to become accustomed to the darkness. Harry was trying to figure out where he was when he heard a small gasp from the sofa directly behind the one he was laying on. Harry gathered his wits, realizing that he had obviously fallen asleep in the common room and was still covered by his invisibility cloak. Again there was a gasp from behind him, followed closely by a low moan and heavy breathing.

As silently as he could, Harry sat up and peered over the back of his makeshift bed. The sight that met his eyes made them open wide in surprise and he had to stuff his knuckles into his mouth to stop from crying out with the shock of it all.

Laid out on the couch was a witch with her night gown bunched around her waist, the fingers of one hand passing over the smooth, tanned skin of her taut belly, as if she was massaging away an ache. The other hand was buried inside the pink lace knickers she wore, moving steadily over her mound. She moaned loudly and writhed in pleasure. Harry tore his eyes from between the witch’s legs and looked at her face.

It was Hermione.

For the second time that night, Harry found himself having to jam his knuckles into his mouth to stop himself from making a sound that would surely give him away. He edged off his lounge and, making sure that his invisibility cloak hid him entirely from view, crept around to get a better look.

He watched, fascinated, as Hermione played with herself right in front of him, so close he could reach out and touch her himself. A sigh of pleasure escaped his lips and he had to quickly spring backwards, cloak flapping around his feet, when Hermione jerked upright. Harry was almost sure that she had heard him and, cursing himself for his stupidity, he pressed up against the wall behind him, praying that he hadn’t scared her off.

Hermione’s head whipped around to the stairway to the dormitories. Seeing no one there, she scanned the rest of the common room for any sign of another person. Harry held his breath as her eyes lingered along the section of wall against which he was standing. He surreptitiously re-adjusted his cloak to make sure he was totally hidden from view. Hermione’s gaze seemed to rest on him for the longest time, but as she made no sign that she had seen his movement, he relaxed and breathed out.

She seemed to give up searching the room for an intruder and stood up. Harry felt an extreme pang of disappointment; she was obviously spooked and now the show was over. He was just about to sneak back to his dorm to catch the last few hours of sleep before breakfast when Hermione lifted her night gown over her head.

Harry stopped, mid-step, and gawked at the lovely image that had just presented itself to him. Hermione now stood completely naked except for the lacy panties she wore, with her nightdress pooled at her feet. Her skin appeared to glow in the light from the moon that filtered through the tower windows. She cupped her breasts, playing gently with her nipples, before sticking her thumbs in the waistband of her underwear and sliding them over her hips and to the floor.

Hermione straightened up again and, holding her arms above her head, arched her back in a stretch. Harry had his first, fully unclothed, view of the girl he had, up until recently, considered to be nothing more than one of his best friends. The way she was stretching made her breasts very prominent to his eyes. Harry decided that they were perfect, not as big as some of the other girls’ in the school appeared to be, but he decided that he preferred it this way.

Probably a nice handful there. Harry blushed at the thoughts that were springing up in his mind, but all the same, he let his gaze travel further down Hermione’s body. His eyes took in her lean belly and, still wandering downwards, Harry’s blush deepened when he came to rest on her most intimate area. She obviously trimmed, as there was only a thin covering of light brown curls, not enough to even slightly obscure his view of her slit.

Harry couldn’t believe his luck that he had happened to be in the right place at exactly the right time. He was secretly amused at what his father would say if he knew of the use that his old invisibility cloak was now being put to by his only son.

Harry stifled his groan of longing, determined not to slip up again, as Hermione laid back down on the lounge and resumed stroking herself. Harry crept forwards from the wall and, positioning his face as close to his friend’s busy hand as he dared, he inhaled her musk. The pure eroticism of what Harry was witnessing had caused him to harden, and he was longing to release his tension by masturbating in time with the lovely girl splayed in front of him. He didn’t dare try anything, however, fearing that his movements might inadvertently throw off his cloak.

Instead, he settled for watching what Hermione did. Having had no personal experience with the opposite sex, other than a chaste kiss or two, Harry had been relying on the stories that his friends had told him about their own experiences. From what he was now seeing, Harry realised that most of them were just as inexperienced as he was. They were just better liars.

He watched as Hermione dipped two fingers inside herself, pumping them for a short while, then dragging them out, covered in her wetness. She stroked her fingers up to the top of her nether lips and started making achingly slow circles around a small nub of flesh that Harry had spotted.

I wonder what the deal with that is, he thought

Harry’s only previous experience with female nudity had been finding some topless photographs. While cleaning his room at his aunt and uncle’s house, Harry had discovered them under his bed. He knew that they hadn’t been there before, and guessed that Dudley had planted them there as a way to get Harry into trouble. He had been fascinated by what they showed, but quickly disposed of them in case his aunt walked in.

Everything Harry was seeing was new to him, and he was eager to learn as much as he could. Hermione’s fingers kept making trips back down into her core, dragging more of her wetness back up with them to continue circling her nub. Harry guessed that this must have the same kind of effect for her as masturbating did for him, as her breathing became ragged when she sped up the progress her fingers were making.

It wasn’t long before Hermione started moaning and whispering. Very quietly at first, so that even Harry, who was less than two meters away, couldn’t make out what she was saying. Gradually the whispers grew louder and more frantic until he realized it was a name she was uttering, his name! The enormity of what he had just heard was like a slap in the face.

Hermione was moaning his name! Did that mean she was fantasizing that it was his hand, rather than her own, that was delivering her this pleasure? Was it possible that she held the same feelings for Harry as he had recently developed for her? He wasn’t sure if he could allow himself the happiness of believing it.

All of this was cast from his mind as Hermione began to moan louder, her head thrashing from side to side in the throes of ecstasy. With a final “Ohh Harry, Yeeeesssss!” her body tensed, legs shaking like jelly, and she collapsed into a sweaty heap. She lifted her hand from between her legs and placed a finger in her mouth, her eyes closed in rapture.

Harry could no more help what happened next than he could help breathing in and out. He groaned as cum spilled from his erection, staining the front of his trousers. He hadn’t even touched himself.

Harry decided that now would be as good a time as ever to make his escape, and with a final glace at Hermione, who was licking her fingers in apparent ecstasy, he made a bee line for the boys bathroom for a much needed shower.


A/N: To everyone who took the time to read my first chapter; I’d like thank you so much for actually reading this! It really gives a guy heart to see that his work is actually being read by people, and it gives you an extra urge to keep writing, so that people don’t get let down by another unfinished work.

To the five people who both read AND reviewed my first chapter; Extra special thanks goes to you. The nameless numbers who read without reviewing are touching in their own way, but really it’s you guys who review that really give me the will to carry on. So from the bottom of my heart, thank you. Every time I get an email telling me I have a new review it’s like Christmas day!

Just to let you all know, each chapter will be posted with between a two to three week hiatus separating them. That way I have chance to write the next chapter and allow my Beta’s time to do their job.