A Perfect World.

In a perfect world, the color gray would not exist. Life’s choices would be simple; right and wrong, good and evil. People would either be perfect, or perfectly flawed. As it stood, only two souls fit into this hypothetical dichotomy, everyone else was to some degree, tarnished.

In a perfect world Hermione would not suffer debilitating migraines and neck cramps from bending over books for unhealthy periods of time. As it stood, she had to make biweekly trips to the dungeon to buy a few blissful hours of pain relief. Hermione stood waiting in the usual spot. She checked her watch for the third time when Pansy finally came strolling around the corner.

“Have you no sense of urgency, Parkinson? I’ve been waiting a good fifteen minutes.”

“I don’t let my clients dictate my schedule,” the Slytherin replied.

Hermione pressed a Galleon into Pansy’s clammy palm and tried to hide how much her hand shook as she took the small package from her supplier.

“Are you all right, Granger?”

The belligerent smirk accompanying the question left no doubt that it was posed in mock concern. Hermione turned abruptly, well aware that her pace was just a little too brisk. Well aware that she was an addict.

I need it for my pain. I can’t study when my head hurts like this. My studying saves lives. My habit saves lives.

Some part of her knew that her justification was little more than the guilty conscience of a junkie, attempting to quiet the worried mind. The question was if that mattered at all. She wasn’t perfect. She wasn’t Harry.

Fuck! Harry! How on earth am I going to explain what happened at Grimmauld place?

Hermione had been foolish to confide in Lavender Brown what had transpired the previous summer, but that which fills the heart flows over in the mouth, as they say. She couldn’t tell Ron, in fear of Harry finding out, but she had to tell someone. It was the kind of secret that couldn’t possibly be kept by one person (or three, as the case may be). It had been yet another burden on her soul, slowly burning from within, so she had told Lavender, who in turn had told the whole school. It was only a matter of time before Harry would come to her, seeking clarification. She didn’t want to worry about that quite yet. For now, all she wanted was to eradicate that fucking persistent ache that pounded her skull from the inside.

In a quiet corner, she frantically opened the package Pansy had given her. A familiar blue glow greeted her tired eyes. Hermione checked one last time to make sure she was alone, then put her index finger on one of her nostrils and inhaled the luminous substance with the other. Her hands stopped shaking. Her head stopped hurting and the muscles in her neck finally relaxed.

*************************

Hermione could no longer enter a room without everybody whispering and pointing at her. Lavender had made sure of that, although in all honesty, it wasn’t Lavender who had fucked not one, but two men old enough to be her father at the same time...

She ignored the shower of whispered insults as she entered the library and headed straight for the table where Brown sat reading in solitude. Hermione threw a large, dusty volume down before the traitor, causing the girl to startle and get up.

“No need for formalities, Lavender. We know each other well enough, I think.”

Hermione, usually the apex of levelheadedness and poise, was having a hard time controlling her anger.

“Hermione...”

Brown seemed to be scanning the room for a way out, but Hermione wasn’t going to let her off easy. She swiftly stepped in and grabbed Lavender by the snatch, squeezing just hard enough to get her point across.

“If you don’t wipe that judgmental look off your face, Lavender, I certainly know a few spells that can do it for you. Yes, I may have fucked a few people, but at least I never committed as vile an act as betraying a friend who confided in me.”

Hermione’s face was close to Lavender’s and she could see how her friend’s eyeliner was slightly smudged on her right eye. That little hint of imperfection made her loosen the grip she had on the girl’s bruised cunt. It reminded her of her own shortcomings and humanity’s general tendency towards mediocrity.

“You should fix your make-up,” she said as she removed the smudge with her thumb.

If all eyes present weren’t upon her before, they surely were now. Hermione, however, was beyond caring. Their opinions had never much mattered to her. And besides, her sex life was really nobody’s business but her own.

Ah, if only it were that simple.

Her actions had undoubtedly hurt Harry, whose fragile psyche was now left to pick up the pieces of the image he had of three of his closest companions.

Hermione reached inside her robe pocket for the package of Blue. Her knuckles turned white as she clutched it in her robe. She wanted it, even though her head didn’t hurt and her hands didn’t shake. Merlin, how she wanted it!

Better to deploy Dutch courage than no courage at all. I am still a Gryffindor.

She hurried her pace en route to the tower, all the while plagued by the kind of butterfly feeling one gets from a roller coaster.

Bottoms up, Hermione.

She emptied the pack in front of the portrait and flashed the fat lady a hateful look.

Even the fucking paintings in this place have an opinion.

******************

Hermione sat in one of the common room armchairs, staring blankly outward. She didn’t know how long it had been; an hour at the very least. She knew Harry had arrived when the handful of house mates scurried hastily to their dorm rooms and a glacial silence swept the room. She didn’t look up until he was seated on the ottoman before her.

Hermione raised her eyes, but stopped at the sight of his folded hands. That’s as high as they would go for now.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I sincerely hope that you won’t let what happened effect the way you feel about your Godfather,”

She purposely did not use his name in an attempt to depersonalize the situation, but when there came no reply but silence, Hermione began to get irritated. Why did she have to justify her sex life to Harry? What was it going to take to get him off her back? She let out a sigh in exasperation and finally looked him in the eye.

“What is it that you want to hear, Harry? Whether it’s true or not? Who did what to whom? Do you want me to tell you that it was all very romantic, that the stress of a pending war left us with no place to turn but each other’s arms? Seriously, what do you want to hear?”

“I want to hear the truth,” he said.

“THEY FUCKED ME! There, I said it. Are you happy now?”

Harry’s upper lip twitched ever so slightly and Hermione could see his eyes fogging up. Not in sadness, mind you. No, he was upset and it became apparent that she would have to tell him the whole ugly story before he would let it go.

“It was a hectic summer, Harry. You were not with us and the burden of keeping quiet was weighing heavily on us all. Grimmauld place was a mad house; people coming and going all hours of the night. Molly fucking Weasley fawning over me like a mother hen. I had all these feelings of frustration and no outlet. I suffered constant insomnia, Harry, it was terrible.

One night, as I was walking around, sleepless as usual, I stumbled upon the pantry door left open. Remus and Sirius were playing a game of cards over some Cognac. I found out I wasn’t the only one unable to sleep. From that night onward, I met them there regularly. It felt great to be away from Molly’s all seeing eye for a change, for Sirius even more so than for me. He hated being stuck in that house. We could fool around, you know, act like children without having to be responsible for a change. We’d have pillow fights and chase each other around when tipsy,”

Hermione could see that her story stirred jealousy within Harry. He would surely have given his wand arm to spend time with Sirius.

“Perhaps two, or three days before your arrival, Sirius found a bottle of old Single Malt his mother used to drink. I think we all had a little too much. Sirius was seated on the floor and I was lying down with my head in his lap. I was drawing figures on his hands with eyeliner and Remus was painting my toenails. When Sirius’ hands were covered in swirls and silly things, I was in need of more canvas. I spotted his bellybutton sticking out above his shabby trousers, so I aimed my pencil. We were laughing and he tried to mock wrestle by grabbing my wrists. I don’t know what came over me, Harry, it was an odd kind of moment. With my hands incapacitated, I went for his zipper... with my teeth. I guess I knew what was coming. He let go of my hands and there was a breathless moment. It felt as if all the air in the pantry had been sucked out by a giant vacuum. He looked at Remus, then at me. I smiled and pulled his pants down. He wasn’t wearing any underwear...”

Hermione paused, unsure whether or not to continue.

“...I looked at his abs, rising and falling with each breath. His cock was slowly swelling. I instigated it, Harry, it was me who took the first step. No one coerced me, it just happened. I want you to know that.”

Harry’s nostrils flared. Hermione sighed again.

“I felt excited, the kind of feeling you get right before you do something that scares you. I wasn’t fearful; I trusted them both, but I’d never been with a fully grown man before, let alone two of them.

I took his cock in my mouth and began to suck gently. Only the head at first as I was rather timid. He grunted; I guess it had been a while for him. I felt Remus caressing my ass and I can’t be sure, as I had a face full of cock, but I think Sirius smiled at him in some sort of invite.”

Hermione could tell Harry had heard enough, but since he humiliated her by making her recant the saga, she was going to see it through till the end.

“Remus lowered my knickers and slid his index finger inside me, squeezing my swollen cunt like a peach as he slipped it in and out. Merlin, does that man know his way around a cunt! I was taking more of Sirius inside me now with each of his thrusts. He was firm in his strokes; I had to cling on to his hip bones to steady myself while he ran his hands through my hair. Remus retracted his hand and I tried to whimper in protest, but Sirius left me no room. He then put his thumb on my clit, rubbing gentle circles over it as he slid more fingers back into my cunt. It was the most amazing sensation; one end of me was getting the living daylights fucked out of it while the other was being softly stimulated. My legs went weak as my slick excitement ran down like hot lava. I shook and cried out in orgasm, which opened up my throat to Sirius as he came inside me with a loud moan.

My legs gave way, but Sirius left me no breath and pulled me up into a kiss right away. I happily returned it, dizzy with bliss. He did not let up until he had pushed me back onto Remus’ cock. I pulled Sirius hand down and rubbed my puffy clit against it as I began to ride Remus like a stallion, squeezing his cock with my cunt. Remus had his hands on my back, stroking all over, while Sirius was sucking at my tits. I bounced harder and harder still and I felt Remus draw his nails down to my ass, kneading my cheeks like balls of dough. I threw my head back when I felt him ripple inside me.

They were very gentlemanly, holding me as the three of us lay on the pantry floor. They stroked my arms and my hair as I rested in between them.”

Hermione looked at Harry, realizing her lips had swollen full in remembrance of it all. He didn’t speak, didn’t give any indication of mood as he slowly got up and left her to her memories. Harry Potter would have to come to terms with the fact that his friends weren’t perfect. That they occasionally behaved outside of what was expected of them. Better to learn young, for alas, there is no such thing as a perfect world.