Midnight visitor

A/N So here I am on my birthday, waiting for my muse to hit me over the head with another chapter. I find it easier to think on all this if I have no sleep, or I can't keep myself from thinking about it. I had this brilliant chapter sketched out in my head while I was driving to work two days ago, but it has severely faded with time. Hopefully I can remember most of it, but I think I'll just start at the point where I left off and try to keep all the emotions real. This might be a two chapter night.... No promises.
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Daylight.


I awake in a bed not my own, willowy limbs stretched around me, lovely caramel curls on a pillow beside my head. The night's events come back to me in a breathtaking rush. Hermione's sweet face is relaxed and almost as full of carefree innocence as the days when we first met. Too often of late, our faces seem older than our true age in dealing with the threat of Voldemort, the death of Sirius, the death and subsequent disappearance of the body of Dumbledore. I, for one, refuse to believe the man is truly dead. That is the only reason I am here, waiting for his return, and return he will, when the time to strike is at hand. That is also the reason that Severus Snape lives, not cut from his mortal coil by me.

Hermione inhales quickly and shifts at my side. The motion of her leg over a very sensitive part of my anatomy brings that part of me immediately to life. Before she can come completely 'round and ruin what we shared last night with regret and demands for secrecy and repentance, I roll easily on top of her and rest my manhood firmly at her entrance. Her eyes snap open and regard me for a nanosecond, her mouth open to say something definitively Hermione. I don't give her the chance. I capture those sweet warm lips with mine before they can do their damage to my heart.

She moans into me, quite wonderfully, but her hands come up to my chest and apply pressure there, trying to push me away. I hold her tightly to my chest, not letting her dissuade me in the least, and kiss for all I am worth. I bear down on her with my weight, thrust slowly against her. Soon her half-hearted protests disappear with the flood of liquid warmth that takes my breath away. I release her lips with the assured knowledge that she won't try to stop me again.

"Oh, GOD, Harry we shouldn't!" The longing and despair mingled in her voice spurs me on, brings me to heights of desire I am not fully prepared to experience. I just groan in response, her hot, wet folds and friction against them shoot pleasure through me like lightning.

"Harry..." Her voice is keening higher, so full of yes and no that I can't decipher it all in my mindless state.

"They're going to kill us...." her breathy sigh tells me all I need to know. I adjust my hips and thrust home. Her delicious shout is counterpoint to my own. Soon I am pounding into her soft body with the force I tried to restrain last night, trying to brand myself all over her, inside of her, and claim her for my own. No one else should see her hazy bedroom eyes, the dusky rose of her nipples, the creamy white of her naked skin, or hear her moans of pleasure, meant only for me. She starts out panting, goes quickly to low moans, and progresses higher in pitch until she's nearly screaming my name.

Her muscles tighten about me, trying to break my stride, trying to wrest control back from me. I ride her contractions out, only slowing slightly. The claws she rakes across my back fall lax and soothing fingertips replace the sting I barely even felt. Perspiration marks her brow, a few curls stick to her face. If I were a painter I would commit that face to canvas, to look upon its breathtaking mystery and beauty for all my days to come. Her eyes are alight with golden fire, the irises fix on me with lust and profound love. I wonder if she knows how much she shows me with that look, clear past her heart and into her soul.

My hand slides down a thigh looped over my waist. Before I can really understand what I am doing, I shift my hips up, bring her ass slightly in the air and start to caress the strip of skin directly below where we are joined. It is slick and wet with her juice. Her eyes roll up into her scull and she lets out another low moan at the feeling of my fingertips there. The depth of my thrusts increase, but the pace slows.

"What do you want me to do, 'Mione?" I whisper.

She takes a very long time in replying. I see her thinking about it, weighing the pros and cons, weighing words. "Lower," she finally groans out.

I only have so much lower I can go before I am touching... The thought sends a thrill down to my toes. I lower my hand and feel the soft puckered ring of her back door. Her breathing speeds up, if that is possible. "Wet your fingers..." she continues to tell me. I raise my hand and insert my middle and forefinger into my mouth, lick her musky juices from my skin. My heart flutters madly at what I am about to do to her. I let the slick saliva coat clear down to my last knuckle before returning the digits to that elusive and erotic other entrance.

She gives me no more helpful instruction. I slide the wetness around the hole, massage the muscles from the outside. I feel a new wave of wetness drench me from her insides. She's thrusting back up against me firmly, her body doing everything in its power to urge me on. I press an exploratory finger in, to the second knuckle, shocked at how tight and smooth and so very warm it is. I wonder momentarily what that would feel like on my...

Her moans have already changed, lower and huskier, deeper than I've ever heard her voice. She's shivering slightly. I press the finger farther and am rewarded with the next flood. I feel my thrusting with my finger from the other side of a barrier, surprised at how thin that wall is. I crook my finger and feel the added pleasure of it against my thrusting shaft inside of her. We groan aloud almost together.

"The other one..." she whispers, "Put it in me as well."

I slide my finger almost all of the way out and add the other one to the entrance. Her body accepts the new invasion with very little resistance. "Mione, have you... had my... in here?" I whisper in awe.

"Once," she trembles out. I crook the two fingers and am immensely satisfied with the result on both our parts. Her admission nearly floors me and saps the remaining restraint I have left. I begin thrusting harder, moaning in time with her, feeling her walls restrict on both the parts of me I have inside her. There comes a point where she goes completely still, her vaginal walls like a fist around me, the soft little ring of her ass tightening and releasing in quick little murmurs around my knuckles. The sensations do me in. I'm coming faster than planned. I pull out as fast as I can, hoping it will be fast enough.

One spurt lands on her mons before I can press the underside of me there and direct the streams away from the danger zone. The slickness of it seeps to her clit where the very base of me presses, my fingers are still caught in her ass. The look of shock she shoots me takes me by surprise as my ending thrusts put friction on her sensitive nub. My fingers are clutching inside her in time with the hand fisted in the sheet at her side. She throws her head back one last time and shudders in pleasure as the rim of her ass suckles my fingers again. Dimly, I recognize she's having another orgasm, just from my fingers and her clit alone.

I hold myself above her, still half-hard and growing stiff again. I stiffen the two fingers inside and draw them mostly out, before pressing them back in experimentally. Her moan lets me know she's not in any pain, quite the opposite, in fact. The motions I make in her anus are driving her mad with pleasure. I feel the trickle of juice from her inside meet the driving hand at her ass, with the help of gravity. I soak a third finger in it and try to add it to the group already inside.

I meet some resistance with this one, her body is twitching and her breathing ragged. I do my best to slim the bunch to their smallest possible width, and still I see no sign of pain. I thrust my fingers in and out, mentally measuring myself against what I have put in that little ring of muscle. It would still have to stretch more...

"Oh, for GODS SAKE Harry, just put it in there already, I know you're wanting to..."

Her voice shocks me out of my mental calculations. "Really? But won't it hurt?"

"Probably, but I don't care, just quit TEASING me!"

I remove my fingers with a lustful moan from her. I scoop up the semen deposited on her front and slick my length with it, and position myself at her back door. Suddenly, I'm so very nervous, I stop and just breathe.

"Harry.." her voice is pleading.

"How should I do this, I mean... do I need to do it any way in particular?"

"How should I know? I only did it the once with- with..." Her face turns a beautiful shade of pink and she looks away, almost as nervous as me. I do my best to recreate the sensations that threw her over the edge last time, and settle a thumb over her nub to counter-act any pain my entry might cause. I rub its slicked surface slowly as I press my head to the rim of her anus.

She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, visibly relaxing every muscle as she does so. I really need to find a charm or something that will make this easier on both of us... next time. A nod from her, my cue. With an indrawn breath I push, the muscles of her bowels resist me. I pull out slightly and adjust, before pushing back as I would if this was her virginity, in and then out, finding my way in in slow increments. Rivers of sweat pour down her face, she's shuddering and shaking, grunting with each inward push, trying her best not to seize up or cry or something. I am sorely tempted to stop this little encounter. She needs more preparation, a spell or something to make this not quite so difficult on her.

I guess she sees my indecision, and rasps out, "Harry, don't you dare stop, not now." I make a few more passes and with a shock, find myself completely encased in that ring of muscle. The feeling is hard to define, so I won't try. It's not better than vaginal, nor is it any worse, just different. The fact that her body wasn't built to accept me in this manner makes me bask in the wonder of the heights of pleasure this form of intercourse can bring to both of us.

I rub her swollen flesh with renewed vigor, wanting, wishing, for her fluttery contractions to shudder over my length, beginning to feel the burn of her tightness along my persistent thrusts. Soon I am circling her clit in snapping motions, my hips are slapping against her ass, the only sounds in the room the sharp smack of flesh on flesh and our ever heavy breathing. Her moans punctuate the air, music to my ears.

Then, all at once, she seizes up, her hands claw the air, I feel that ring of muscle simmer over my flesh, the waterworks shoot from her unoccupied opening. It is too much for me.

Another volley of thrusts, increasing in speed and depth until I am pressed as far as I can go and am shooting hot cum inside of her. I feel the aftershocks grip her body one after another. Her muscles play over my too-sensitive cock, eliciting after shocks from me as well. Here we are, still joined, our flesh fighting against one another for the last word. My head is bowed, her neck arced out. The scene, I am sure, is one of profound beauty.

Finally, I slip from her, her groan indicates she misses the feeling of fullness. We are speechless. Good. Now nothing hurtful can be said on the matter. I refuse to see how something that feels so good between people who love eachother could possibly be wrong. After a long time, I hear her take a breath to say what I don't want to hear.

"Shower then breakfast?" I chirp, cutting off that terrible conversation before it can start. We can work out the particulars later. Right now, I just want to bask in the glorious afterglow that is spending the night in Hermione's bed. Morals be damned. I'll deal with Ginny later.

"Sure, Harry." She seems to know what is going through my head. That is good as well, because she concedes the point.

I lift her up off the bed in my arms and carry her to the private bathroom she shares with no one. Thank Merlin for small mercies. Not even an irritated Head Boy to contend with. I don't think I could handle it if Hermione had to share a common room and bathroom with another man.

When we are under the spray, all is right in my universe.
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A/N I feel much better, now, I promise!!! Hope everyone has a happy new year.