The Price of Knowledge

The Price of Knowledge


Disclaimer: disclaiming….



Chapter Four


I felt slightly different the next day, and even more so the day after that. Every night seemed to be a new awakening from which more layers seemed to unravel and I found myself brought down to my most basic self. Every night I learned more and more about myself and what it took to give me pleasure.

I learned that sometimes I couldn’t do it. No matter how hard I tried, my body would deny me release. I would lay in bed awake, frustrated and agitated, staring at the ceiling with my hand going numb between my legs. I had to learn to accept this, which was almost Herculean itself, as I always felt I could do anything so long as I put my mind to it. I found out how to find climax quick and hard and how to find it slow and satisfying. I learned the difference between a g-spot orgasm and a clitoral orgasm. I learned how to have multiples of each. I discovered female ejaculation. I uncovered what did it for me, and what didn’t.

This knowledge made me feel powerful, somehow, and confident. I felt I had risen above my classmates in my newfound wisdom, like I had uncovered King Midas’s tomb but knew I didn’t have to share the treasures with the world. I was content.

And I wasn’t the only one who noticed.

Harry turned to me with rosy cheeks and lowered eyes and whispered. “You seem different, ‘Mione.”

“How so?” I asked.

He blushed another shade of crimson and laughed nervously. “You seem so…relaxed. You’re really glowing.”

It must have been all the orgasms I was having. My newfound bedroom confidence was extending beyond the bed into my everyday life. I had read in CosmoWitch that you could always tell when a witch had “gotten laid” by her aura. I wasn’t very experienced in dealing with auras; it was after all, an imprecise branch of divination that didn’t really matter to me.

“Thank you,” I answered, and smiled. I feel the way I look then. It’s not very often that the outside matches the inside, I note sadly as my eyes find the Slytherin table where Draco is laughing heartily at a young Ravenclaw tripping over his robes.

I have been coming to breakfast later and later because I keep sleeping in. I don’t dare tell anyone why I am awake so late; it seems everyone just assumes I’d be tired from studying. If only they knew what I was studying….

After class I end up rushing back to my dorm, to close my curtains and cast the necessary spells to ensure my privacy. Lavender asked me how I was feeling, I seemed feverish lately. I was going to pretend that maybe I was coming down with something, but decide it’s not a good idea to add lying to my title. Compulsive-masturbating-know-it-all is already tough to swallow.

I love Harry and Ron, they truly are the best blokes a girl could have, but they are usually pretty thick when it comes to me. I don’t think they have realized that I am not twelve years old anymore, that I have breasts and desires just like the other girls they ogle. Not that I want to be treated differently, I just don’t want to be forever seen as I was six years ago. So to have Harry notice I seemed different, even in the slightest, made me want to burst out in pride.

Harry was the first to say anything. Then came Ron.

We walked to Transfiguration together, the two of them lagging behind me as usual, when Ron reached out and grabbed my arm very suddenly. He looked almost stricken when I met his gaze, and his normally ruddy complexion seemed to grow paler. “Who is he?” he asked.

“Who is he?” I repeated, confused. “What?”

“Who. Is. He.” Each word, punctuated strongly. “This guy you are seeing in secret. Who?”

I start to giggle. “I’m not seeing anyone! You should know I don’t have any secrets from you two. Why do you say that anyway?”

“You’re different.” Ron stammered.

“What do you mean, different?” I know how, but I want to hear it from them.

“You look different. You’ve been in a good mood lately and not even Snape can ruin it. You’re walking…differently too.” His face has flushed, and both he and Harry are looking away, unable to meet my eye.

“You’re swaying…your hips.” Harry added.

“Oh,” is all I can say. “I didn’t do that before?”

They both shake their heads.

They both look really pathetic right now so I just laugh and order them to quit loitering in the hall and get to class. They both laugh, albeit nervously, and rush ahead. They keep looking back and at each other and I am really surprised.

I didn’t think they would notice that much.

I wonder, did they like it? Did they, maybe, fancy me?

I tried to shake off those feelings, but they lingered. With my newfound confidence, I don’t know what to do or say with the boys, or any boys for that matter. But when I walked into Professor McGonagall’s classroom, I could feel more eyes on me. I’m not used to having so much attention, and I hated to admit it, but I liked it. I liked it a lot.

When I discovered pleasure, I only took into account my own reactions. I never thought about affecting anyone else. This was a development that would involve further study, I realized, and set about making mental notes on things I should consider while researching it. I would need to look at male sexuality, mating habits, behavior stereotypes and standards…

Class went by quickly because I was distracted. I ended up costing Gryffindor five points because I wasn’t listening to Professor McGonagall when she called on me. I ended up winning back the five and adding on another ten when I found the right answer out of thin air – it was really lucky that I was ahead in all the lesson plans. I never would have been able to concentrate on my new research if I wasn’t.

I should probably stop calling it that. It sounded almost clinical. But obsession seemed too harsh.

As I gathered my things after class I noticed that Draco was lingering as well, even though his usual gang of Slytherins had already left. I felt my heart beat a little faster at the thought of him and me in the room alone together, but Professor McGonagall was still there, so the fantasy is short-lived. She wasn’t paying attention as Draco slunk by me, his robes swishing into my leg as he went. He didn’t look at me or say a word, but I could smell his faint cologne in the air as he went by. It was simple and probably expensive.

The classroom is huge. He didn’t have to walk by me – he could have taken a hundred routes to exit the classroom. Why did he get so close? He didn’t think of me as anything but a lowly Mudblood – one unworthy of his attention.

He didn’t see me, did he?

No way, I dismiss it automatically. Given his behavior, I honestly doubted Draco ‘I’m-the-shit’ Malfoy would have noticed me. He hated me, and would have hexed me if he had known what I had seen.

Right?

And I already know he wouldn’t notice the change that Ron and Harry did. He probably would never give me a second thought.

Such a pity, because I think I could learn a lot from him when it comes to sex, provided he could live up to his reputation. I doubted that, though. I sighed, realizing I was too wishful to get the attention of the man of my fantasies. Draco Malfoy wouldn’t notice me unless…I made him.

I could add ‘how to entice’ to my research list.

When I headed upstairs after class, I found several plain paper packages waiting for me on my bed.

“You are getting a lot of those lately, Hermione. What are they?” Parvati asked. “Are you working on something?”

“Just more socks. It’s wool and more knitting books from my mum.” I lie through my teeth; “I have to keep S.P.E.W. alive after all.”

I knew it was wrong to lie, and that I had stopped myself earlier, not wanting to resort to it, but it was the only way to keep my secret. I didn’t want her or Lavender to know what I was up to – they would only make fun of me and tell everyone else, effectively humiliating me into abandoning my research. I supposed a little, harmless white lie was all right, wasn’t it?

Parvati bought it, so I would keep my story. I would have to reuse that one; it was a great way to get students to look the other way.

I closed the curtain, cast a few concealing spells, and ripped open my latest delivery. Inside was a shiny five-inch long yellow vibrator from Frederick’s of Hollywood. Postage had been expensive, but looking at the prize in my hands, I knew it was well worth it.

For research, of course, I told myself. I was already wet in anticipation.



an:

Thanks Michelle (Ma Belle)! you make words go together well, tres bien ensemble.

Thank you for any words of encouragement, reviews are the lifeblood of all fanfiction.

I hope you like it, Ash!