Life is Strange

Buttons: The Pussycat Dolls

I'm tellin' you to loosen up my buttons babe (Uh huh)
But you keep frontin' (Uh)
Sayin' what you gon' do to me (Uh huh)
But I ain't seen nothin' (Uh)

I'm tellin' you to loosen up my buttons babe (Uh huh)
But you keep frontin' (Uh)
Sayin' what you gon' do to me (Uh huh)
But I ain't seen nothin' (Uh)

Typical and hardly
The type i fall for
I like when the physical
Don't leave me askin' for more
I'm a sexy mama (Mama)
Who knows just how to get what I wanna (Wanna)
What I wanna do is bring this on ya (On ya)
Back up all of the things that I told ya (Told ya)

You've been sayin' all the right things all night long
But I can't seem to get you over here to help take this off
Baby, can't you see?
How these clothes are fittin' on me
And the heat comin' from this beat
I'm about to blow
I don't think you know

I'm tellin' you to loosen up my buttons babe (Uh huh)
But you keep frontin' (Uh)
Sayin' what you gon' do to me (Uh huh)
But I ain't seen nothin' (Uh)

I'm tellin' you to loosen up my buttons babe (Uh huh)
But you keep frontin' (Uh)
Sayin' what you gon' do to me (Uh huh)
But I ain't seen nothin' (Uh)

You say you're a big boy
But I can't agree
'Cause the love you said you had
Ain't been put on me
I wonder
If I'm just too much for you
Wonder
If my kiss don't make you just
Wonder
What I got next for you
What you wanna do? (Do)

Take a chance to recognize that this could be yours
I can see, just like most guys that your game don't please

Baby, can't you see?
How these clothes are fittin' on me
And the heat comin' from this beat
I'm about to blow
I don't think you know

Chorus Repeats several times


----------------------------------------------------------


Several hours later.

The fire crackled a deep crimson, but no heat was given off by the flames. It was September after all and even the northern lonely isolation of Hogwarts was weeks away from the bitter winds that necessitated scarves and mittens. The fireplace was lit for decoration and light, spreading a warm glow to a dark room.


Small wooden tables were filled with studying Gryffidors, heads bent over musty, leather bound books. Parchments becoming filled with scribbles from flying quills, annotating the correct spell components necessary for a powder to bring deep, dreamless sleep; the correct wand position to cast a charm against falling boulders; an essay three parchments long on the life cycle of wraith bats. A normal night of homework. The room was quiet, with only some whispered conversation and the crackle of the fire.


Hermione, Harry and Ron sat together on a small velvet couch against a far wall, the Gryffindor banner of scarlet and gold behind them, hanging heavy with age. The two boys sat on either side of their friend, their laps filled with two enormous essays that were homework for Flitwick's homework on charms for opening sealed entrances. Ever the overachiever, Hermione's own homework, twice the required length, lay curled and tied, completed days ago, on a nearby desk. As always, she was their editor in chief in the last night before the assignment was due. To all eyes in the room, it was a familiar sight. The other students would be astounded to know what was going on beneath those parchments.

She licked her lips. Hermione was still flushed and confused by her encounter with Malfoy, her blood still unquiet. When the boys had pulled her onto the sofa and begged her for help with their homework she had agreed without hesitation, hoping the distraction of words, paper and pens would help her regain what sanity she hoped she still possessed. But, now, her racing hormones were creating more havoc that she would have dreamed.


It was all because of the stupid couch. Some first year had been practicing size transfiguration earlier and somehow had caused their usual spot to become solidly smaller. As they had sat down, Hermione in her usual spot in the middle to read through their barely legible work, she had been surprised to find her legs pressed in close to theirs. It didn't help that their shoulders also met, making her feel trapped in some kind of exciting snare. A few steady breaths had failed to help, because she couldn't help but notice that blue eyes and green, followed the rise and fall of her chest. Strange how lately every little thing with them had a new meaning. It worried her.


Trying to return to a semblance of normality, she used her best nagging voice to utter.


“Alright, Ron, let me see how long yours is first, then I'll compare it to Harry's which, no offense, is probably a little better than yours.”


Both boys shifted uncomfortably at her words, grinning nervously, and Hermione turned as bright red as the fire, closing her eyes in resignation and frustration. It seemed her brain was not giving her an opportunity to redeem herself this evening. “You know what I mean,” she murmured.

They had spread out the large parchments, and Hermione leaned over trying to ascertain if Ron had written in diagnols on purpose, and in an attempt to follow the trail of words, she placed her finger on the parchment following the spells detailing how to open locked treasure chest as she read. She leaded forward closer to the parchment, in order to see some of his often times tiny print, but as she did so she didn't realize her skirt behind her had hiked up, giving Harry a nice view of her light blue underpants. He swallowed, unable to look away. He could see the contours of her bottom and the crease that ran down her backside.


Ron's strangled gulp made, Hermione look up from her reading. His face was oddly perspiring. Strange, though she was slightly hot and bothered, the room was quite cool.


“Ronald, whatever is the matter with you.” Her voice was quiet but sharp.


He glanced down at her finger on his parchment and then up into her eyes. She looked down and realized that as she had been lightly tracing the words across the paper, she had also been inadvertently giving Ron's lap under the paper a little unexpected experience.

Instantly she jerked her hand away and sat back. Only to notice the feeling of coolness of the sofa against her bare legs instead of the wool of her skirt. With a tiny, “Eep!” she swept her skirt back underneath her, looking horrified over at Harry who sat still as stone looking in front of him. Had he seen, she wondered? What was gong on with them!

For a second she just sat there, dumbfounded. What in the world was going on around her? For the last few years of her young life, she had never encountered any feelings of sexuality in the boys at her school. With Victor Krum, in her fourth year, she had sat quietly in the library, talking about spells and books. Though his English wasn't perfect she had learned that there was a scholar behind the Quidditch muscles, and their attraction had actually been far more intellectual; they had never done more the some innocent kisses. Perhaps he had never pressed her for more because of her age. She had never even once felt with him the warmth that had flooded her body with Malfoy, or the same warmth that was slowly suffusing her body at the moment, as she sat with her supposed friends.

Thoughts of Malfoy brought back thoughts of his wet tongue and his heated hands crawling up her naked back. Now, her two friends sat next to her, and she had a quick flash of an image of herself in the cupboard again, but this time it contained three souls rather than two. She shivered at the intensity of the image. The boys, noticing the movement, locked eyes with her, both transfixed as she licked her lips again.


Well, fortune favored the bold, Hermione decided. What the hell. Time to say goodbye to her brain again, say goodbye to what was probably right and decent, and let her body explore these new urges.
She would only be young once.

She closed her eyes, sent up a prayer that this wouldn't end badly and slowly brought her hands down to her lap. Under the cover of the spread parchments, she moved them hesitantly onto the thighs of the boys next to her. Neither of them moved. She had almost expected them to jump off the couch in shock and disgust. But they just looked at her steadily. She could feel the packet of a chocolate frog in Ron's left pocket, but Harry's right pocket held something she didn't immediately recognize by touch. While lightly caressing Ron's thigh back and forth with her palm, her left hand tried discover the strange object in Harry's pocket. It couldn't be his quill...


A small groan escaped Harry's lips, and Hermione turned her head to look at him. His head was thrown back against the couch, and his lips were open, breathing heavily as her fingertips continued to dance on top of his pocket. A quick look to her left found Ron's blue eyes locked on hers. He slipped his own hand under the parchment and began to trace rough circles on her own thighs. This certainly was a new Ron. She couldn't believe his boldness, or, she gulped in retrospect, her own. At his touch she felt a surge of heat and wetness between her legs.


Her attention was drawn back to Harry as he took his hand and pushed hers more firmly down in his lap. As he began to rock against her hand, she was left with little doubt as to what she had discovered. It was his...his...


His member was rock hard, and he pushed her palm up and down, with a steady rhythm. When he opened his eyes and looked at her, she just about died on the spot. Behind his glasses, his pupils were large and black, surrounded by just the tiniest ring of green fire. He looked at her so steadily and with such need, that she felt another surge of wetness. She licked her lips again, and his eyes followed the movement. With a quick glance around, he took his wand lying on the table next to him, in his left hand, and quietly cast a illusion spell. Within her haze, Hermione recognized the skill it took to cast such an advanced glamor. Anyone looking in their direction would only see them innocently studying.

“Well done, Harry,” she said her voice husky. “That was...”

But she trailed off as Harry shifted his upper body to face hers. She turned to him while Ron's hand edged closer to the bottom of her underpants leg. Harry's lips captured hers, and she felt his erection pulse aginst her palm as she opened her mouth feeling his tongue inside for the first time. Thoughts of Malfoy and her earlier encouter were wiped away as Harry kiss deepened, and she brought her tongue against his. Malfoy was poison, but this too was wrong and just as exciting. Her tongue was sweeping around in her best friends mouth, sweeping the roof, and sliding and scraping against his. This kiss was rough, wonderful and ...


She moaned into his mouth urgently as Ron's fingers finally slipped between her panties and came to rest on the crease between her legs. Her top half was flush against harry, her bottom half twisted, legs spreading, giving Ron permission to enter where no touch but her own had ever been. In an instant his hand retreated, and he pushed her knees on the couch, her shiny mary janes discarded on th e wood floor.


While others around her studied and discussed the advantages of unicorn hair to kneazle whisker, Hermione, Harry and Ron all rose to their knees on the couch. Hermione faced Harry, one hand clasping his black hair, pushing him closer as he devoured her mouth. Her other hand slowly unbuttoning his pants. Behind her Ron pushed himself flush into her backside, pushing up her skirt to thrust himself slowly against her bottom. She groaned into Harry's mouth again as Ron's right hand pushed under her skirt between she and Harry, placing it firmly on her the front of her damp underpants, rubbing and rubbing. Just as her fingers undid Harry's button, slipping down the zipper to spread the front of his pants open, Ron slipped his hand under her underpants, rubbing the hair he discovered to be as bushy as that on top of her head. Harry began gnawing on her neck, sucking and licking roughly as she boldy slipped her hand into his boxers feeling the soft texture of his shaft. His hand tightened around hers and he guided her to grasp it and pull and push on him in a way that made him latch onto her shoulder with his teeth, moaning and growling. She echoed his moans when Ron slipped a long finger between her drenched nether lips, running his rough thumb repeatedly over the center of her pleasure before dipping his finger into her hole. He pushed another finger inside her, and she instinctively began bucking her hips. Ron's quickly freed himself from his pants as well, and pressed his hard hot member against her panties. With a whine of frustration, Ron pulled the underpants hard, and Hermione gasped feeling them rip, followed by the naked feel of Ron's shaft pressing between the crack of her bottom. He didn't penetrate her, but she felt the head of his penis as it rode up and down her behind, spreading a wetness there, as he pushed her from in front hard against him. Ron's fingers pumped insider her, her own hand pumping Harry, Harry's lips on her shoulder, Ron's penis rubbing and pushing behind her. Riding his fingers she felt something burst within her and her convulsions were echoed by Harry in front of her, and Ron behind. With a lurch they fell forward, in a tangle of limbs and fluid.


Three heads looked up. All they saw was the other Gryffindor's turning the pages of their books and finishing their homework. They exchanged sheepish glances, and wry grins.

“Well,” Hermione said hesitantly, her voice breathy with slight hysteria. “I guess in a way, we did practice opening charms.”