By Dawn's Early Light

The Burrow is always quiet in the hours following dawn.

Hermione finds it an odd contrast to walk the hallways when the sun barely lights the eastern sky and think of how noisy and crowded the same areas were the night before. The house never feels lonely, though. The silence is sporadically broken with a snore from Ron’s room or the sound of creaking mattress springs in from any one of the rooms she passes.

This is a peaceful time of day to her, and it has become habit over the past few weeks to wake shortly after dawn and begin her day. Her routine has become set, it seems, which doesn’t surprise her. She tends to thrive on routine, after all, and likes to know what to expect whenever possible. She wakes when the sun begins to rise and changes out of her pajamas without disturbing Ginny, who sleeps in the bed next to her. After a stop in the loo, she creeps through the hallways until she steps outside into the early morning light.

Today, she takes a towel and a book, knowing that she has a good two hours before anyone begins to stir. Molly wakes first, usually, and reads the paper as she drinks a cup of tea. Hermione usually joins her in the morning, sipping hot chocolate as she reads the front section of the Prophet to see what is happening in the world that has become her own over the years.

Hermione sighs as she steps out of the house and basks in dawn’s early light. Many people would find her crazy to enjoy this lonely time of morning, but it is one of her favorite times. She often wakes early even at school to take a little time for herself where she refuses to think of lessons or revision. It is cool outside but she adapts easily, knowing that it won’t be long until the sun is high in the afternoon sky and its rays will heat everything.

The grass is damp beneath her bare feet as she walks the path to the pond. She likes to swim but rarely does in the afternoon because heat makes her lethargic. She’s also, to be quite honest, somewhat self-conscious about wearing a swim suit. Ginny is slim and athletic with small, firm breasts and not an inch of extra fat on her body. Fleur is slender with a trim waist and breasts that catch all of the boys’ attention.

Hermione, however, is more curvy than slender and her breasts aren’t perky and firm. They’re not as big as Lavender’s, thankfully, but she’s caught Seamus staring at them when she wore a T-shirt that was a bit too tight and it made her feel awkward. She doesn’t want Harry or Ron to notice she has breasts, in a way, because it makes things different and she doesn’t like change very much.

There are times when she wants Ron to notice, times when she lies in bed and gently touches her breasts and wonders what it would be like if it were his hands instead of her own, but those thoughts still confuse her too much to actually analyze in depth. She doesn’t want him to notice her simply because her breasts are a decent enough size. Foolishly, she wants him to notice her for her and not the shape of her body.

The water is still and looks inviting despite the crisp air that makes goosebumps stand out on her skin. Hermione undresses and neatly piles her clothes on top of a rock near the water. She puts her book beneath her clothes so it stays dry and then looks at the water as she debates indulging herself even more. Her friends would be shocked, she knows, to learn that she enjoys swimming naked, and she’d be embarrassed if any of them ever caught her, but it’s worth the risk.

She slides the straps of her bathing suit from her shoulders and wiggles out of the tight fabric until it falls to the ground around her ankles. The air makes her nipples harden and she shivers as she leans down to pick up her suit. Her breasts sway forward and she straightens, folding the suit and lying it on top of her clothes. She kicks a small rock out from beneath her feet and removes the ribbon that has kept her hair in a somewhat messy braid during the evening. Once her hair is free, she runs her fingers through it and shakes her head, letting it fall down her shoulders.

She adjusts to the cool air and makes her way to the water’s edge. She sticks a toe into the water and bites her lip to keep from squealing. It’s colder this morning than it has been since she arrived at the Burrow but she bravely straightens her shoulders and walks into the water. Hermione sighs softly as the water caresses her calves and thighs, loving the feel of it against her bare skin. She hears whispers at school that call her frigid and say she’s asexual, rude mutterings from both boys and girls who get annoyed when she makes higher marks, but she ignores those slurs because she knows that, deep down, she’s actually very sensual.

The water reaches her waist before she bends her knees and leans backwards, closing her eyes as the water covers her completely. When she straightens, she smiles, feeling refreshed and more awake than she did earlier. Her hair becomes heavy with water but she doesn’t notice as she begins to swim, splashing as she ducks beneath the surface. After she swims for awhile, she floats on her back, eyes closed as the sun shifts in the sky above.

The sound of splashing startles her from her daydreams and she jerks as her eyes flash open and she loses her balance, falling beneath the water and coming up gasping as she spits it out. She looks wildly towards the shore and feels torn between relief and embarrassment when she sees who has joined her: relief that it isn’t Ron or Harry, but embarrassment that it’s Fleur. The blonde witch is staring at her, completely unaffected by her own nudity, and Hermione understands, for a moment, why the boys act so stupid about her.

“Eet ees cold, ‘ermione!” Fleur accuses as she walks further into the water. Her breasts are perfect, Hermione decides, and she glances at her own chest and feels self-conscious.

“You get used to it,” she says as she looks back up, surprised to see that Fleur has nearly reached her.

“I ‘ave watched you swim for days,” Fleur confides, “and finally decided that I must join you. Eet looks relaxing.”

“You’ve watched me?” Hermione cringes when she hears the squeak in her voice, but is too busy thinking of what she did after her swim the previous day to care. She blushes as she wonders if Fleur saw her doing that and hopes she didn’t.

“Oui. I watch you often, ‘ermione,” Fleur says with a slight smile. “Eet ees nice to watch you.”

“Well, it’s rather rude to spy,” she stammers.

“I do not understand this word spy,” Fleur tells her. “You are ‘ere in the pond where anyone can see. Eef you do not want to be watched, you would not be ‘ere.”

“I don’t want to be watched,” Hermione says more sharply than she intends. “I thought I was alone and would never have kept coming here if I knew you were watching.”

“Why not?” Fleur asks as she swims closer. “You should not mind being watched. The ‘uman body should not cause shame, especially one as pretty as yours. Eet should be worshipped and appreciated.”

“I don’t feel comfortable,” she admits before she frowns and ducks her head beneath the water. When she resurfaces, she pushes her hair away from her face and blinks as she finds Fleur staring at her with an odd look on her face.

“I do not understand you English,” Fleur declares finally. “I saw you, ‘ermione. You were alive and eet was so exciting to watch. I ‘ad to touch myself while I watched and I came on my ‘and before I woke Bill with my mouth on ‘is cock. You are so arousing yet you do not want to be watched, and eet confuses me.”

“You---I mean---“ Hermione stares at her and forgets to paddle, coughing as she slides beneath the water.

“I want to touch you, ‘ermione. Eet ees something I ‘ave wanted since first seeing you swim ‘ere but after yesterday, I ‘ave to taste you,” Fleur tells her matter-of-factly. She reaches out and moves her fingers along the curve of Hermione’s breast, lightly touching the flesh before she rubs her nipple. “You will let me touch, yes?”

Hermione tries to ignore the pleasure that Fleur’s touch causes and pulls away. “No. It’s wrong and you’ve got Bill and I’m not---I don’t like girls like that.”

“’ave you ever tried girls?” Fleur asks as she swims closer, her blonde hair wet and tangled around her pretty face. “I like girls and boys. As for Bill, ‘e knows my fantasies and ‘as some of ‘ees own. ‘e does not mind eef I ‘ave you. ‘e likes to ‘ear what I want from you, ‘ermione. ‘e ees not, ‘ow you say, stick in mud? Bill knows sex and desire and ees not ashamed of ‘ow ‘e feels and what ‘e wants.”

“I can’t,” she whispers as she shakes her head and swims away. It is too tempting, which scares her. She doesn’t like girls, not in a sexual way, but Fleur is gorgeous and her words weave an enticing spell in softly accented broken English.

A hand grabs her shoulder and she feels a wet body pressed against her back. “You will not get away from me, ‘ermione,” Fleur purrs as she rubs against Hermione’s back. “You ‘ave been a naughty girl sneaking down here to swim naked while everyone ees asleep.”

“Fleur,” Hermione moans as she feels slim fingers glide along her ribs.

“Tell me no and I will let go, ‘ermione,” Fleur murmurs against her ear as she moves her hand up to squeeze Hermione’s breast. “Do you want me to let go?”

Hermione’s head falls back and she inhales sharply when she feels Fleur kneading her breast. It feels even better when someone else does it, she realizes, and a slow heat begins to spread over her body as she becomes aware of the breasts rubbing against her back. “No,” she says so softly that she almost hopes Fleur won’t hear her surrender.

“Good girl,” Fleur says as she lets go. “I ‘ave to taste you, ‘ermione. We will go to the shore now and you will lie down and spread your legs for me. I will worship you with my tongue, with my lips, with my fingers, and you will beg me for more, yes?”

There was no need to deny Fleur’s confident words, not when she was shaking with arousal and wanted nothing more than to feel Fleur’s body against hers. Hermione swam to the shore and stepped out of the pond, running her hands through her wet hair as she twisted it to get rid of the excess water. Fleur joined her, her hands moving all over Hermione’s body, squeezing and caressing until Hermione is panting.

Fleur’s lips touch hers and Hermione returns the kiss after a moment of hesitancy. She and Viktor had kissed before he had left Hogwarts, but he hadn’t wanted to go too fast so he’d never touched her, even above her clothes. This kiss isn’t the same, but it’s nice. Hermione has studied books about sex since she first realized that the funny feeling in her tummy after kissing Viktor was desire, and she knows how to touch herself after practicing for the last year. She also knows how it works with two boys together and how it works with two girls, but she has never thought she’d be with another woman even if she has occasionally thought about it.

It’s soft and firm at the same time. Fleur’s lips tease, her tongue lures, and her touch caresses. When they part, Hermione admits that she wants more. It’s new and different and she’s curious, intrigued by Fleur’s blunt words and aroused by the images the naughty words paint.

“Lie down, ‘ermione,” Fleur demands softly as she transfigures Hermione’s swimsuit into a soft blanket. She watches Hermione lie on the blanket and touches herself, fingers gliding over tan skin and tangling in a neat patch of blonde curls before they move between her legs. “Spread your legs for me. Wider. I want to see eef you are as wet as I am. You ‘ave a pretty cunt, ‘ermione. Bend your knees and put your legs up, like yesterday. Touch yourself for me. Eet ees so sexy to see you like this.”

Hermione isn’t used to taking orders unless it’s in class. She takes her time, not giving in so easily that Fleur will think she can boss her around. She can see that Fleur is enjoying this, that she likes to watch her, and feels more confident as Fleur stares. She spreads her legs, blushing as she’s open for Fleur’s hungry stare, and she wonders what Fleur sees. Hermione reaches down and lightly strokes herself, strokes her cunt, as Fleur calls it. She’s wet, slick with arousal, and she bites her lip as her knuckle brushes against her clit.

“Enough,” Fleur growls as she removes her fingers from between her legs and reaches for Hermione’s wrist. She pulls her hand away and then traces Hermione’s lips with her wet fingers. Hermione opens her mouth and licks tentatively, tasting Fleur as she laps at her fingers. Fleur groans and kneels between Hermione’s legs, spreading them further apart as she lowers her head.

The first feel of Fleur’s tongue against her makes Hermione’s hips jerk up. Fleur laughs lightly and presses her back down before she begins to tease with light licks and nibbles. Hermione never thought it would feel like this. It’s more than she expects, feels unbelievable, and she’s soon pushing down against Fleur’s face. Fleur licks her, nuzzling wet curls and blowing lightly on her clit before she laps up Hermione’s arousal. When she feels a finger ease into her, she whimpers, listening to Fleur speak in a mixture of French and English that she doesn’t quite understand. A second finger is added and Hermione rolls her hips, needing more.

“Touch your breasts, ‘ermione. Eet ees so beautiful to watch you like this, so wild and reckless. You taste so good,” Fleur says as she fucks her with two fingers, watching her before she leans down and sucks on her clit.

Hermione reaches up and touches her breasts, squeezing them gently and tugging on her nipples. She’s aware of everything, from the soft fabric beneath her back to the feel of Fleur’s hair against her thigh to the soft breath against her clit to the scratch of Fleur’s engagement ring against her cunt.

“You are so tight,” Fleur mutters in between licks and sucks. “I want to see you being fucked, ‘ermione. I want to see you coming on a cock, whining as ‘e fucks you so ‘ard and deep, begging for release like a good leetle girl.”

Fleur sucks her clit harder and Hermione feels the tension build and grow until she can think of nothing except obtaining that sweet release. A third finger stretches her, Fleur’s hand moving faster as her fingers go deeper and deeper until Hermione is rutting against her hand like someone wanton and unfamiliar. Her back arches off the blanket and she whimpers as she comes, shuddering as Fleur keeps fucking her.

Finally, when she’s gasping and trembling from her orgasm, Fleur removes her fingers and sits up. Hermione blinks at her, lost in a sensual daze she’s not sure she ever wants to end, and watches Fleur suck her fingers, licking Hermione’s come from them as she straddles Hermione’s leg and rubs against her thigh. She’s wet, so very wet, and she slides back and forth as Hermione reaches up to touch her breast.

“I want to try,” Hermione tells her softly, not all sure she can make Fleur feel the same way she felt but needing to try. She can learn, after all.

“Eet will not take much,” Fleur tells her with a laugh that is sexy and sweet. “I like to watch and eet makes me so close.”

She moves off Hermione and lies down, spreading her legs and smiling. “I will teach you ‘ow to please me, ‘ermione. You are good student, yes? We will ‘ave many lessons.”

Hermione gets up and moves between Fleur’s legs, glancing at the sky to see how late it is. There’s still time before Molly will wake, she knows, so she relaxes and brushes soft kisses along Fleur’s thighs. Her first lick is timid and it takes a few licks for her to get used to Fleur’s taste. Fleur’s hand is in her hair, guiding her gently, and Hermione is pleased when she hears moans and whines as she licks.

She spreads Fleur open and pushes her tongue into her, lapping at her arousal as her nose brushes against blonde curls. Hermione is curious and always a focused student so she studies Fleur’s cunt, finding that word much easier to think even if she’d blush horribly if she had to say it, and experiments with licks and touches to see what gets the best results. Fleur likes it rough, she soon realizes, and wonders if Bill is rough and animalistic when he shags her, somehow thinking he might be, which makes her shudder at the direction of her thoughts.

“Stop teasing, ‘ermione!” Fleur demands after Hermione lightly licks her and gently sucks her clit. Hermione looks up and smiles, letting her know that she’s no longer in control, and deliberately swipes her tongue lazily over Fleur’s cunt. “I will punish you for this, my sweet. I will tie you up and make you beg until you are ‘oarse and then I will use a toy on your pretty, tight leetle cunt.”

“We have different ideas of punishment, Fleur,” Hermione teases, rather pleased that she’s not feeling awkward and weird about this unexpected situation. She pushes two fingers into Fleur, who takes them easily, and begins to move them a little more roughly than she’d normally touch. Fleur is very vocal, not at all ashamed of displaying how she feels, and she curses in French as she fucks Hermione’s hand.

Fleur comes when Hermione sucks her clit and scrapes her teeth against the sensitive bundle of nerves by accident. She moans as she comes, and Hermione laps at her release as she pulls her fingers out of her. When Fleur pulls her up, Hermione goes, kissing Fleur back with a hunger of her own. Their bodies rub together and she no longer cares that her hips are too curvy and her breasts aren’t firm or perfect.

“You are very naughty, ‘ermione,” Fleur declares with a mischievous smile before she nibbles on Hermione’s lip, making them even more swollen. She pulls back and stands up, holding her hand out to Hermione. “We will ‘ave to clean up now but eet ees still early. I think there is still time for another lesson, yes?”

Hermione stands up and glances down at her nude body, noticing the scratch marks and bites she’d not even realized Fleur had made. There is a nice ache between her legs and she feels relaxed in a way that only comes after a good orgasm. She meets Fleur’s gaze and smiles. “I’m a very conscientious student so another lesson will be very much appreciated, Fleur.”

She follows Fleur back into the pond, even more aware of the water lapping at her sweaty and flushed skin. Hands move over her body and she turns to look at Fleur, touching her everywhere as she begins to learn her body as well as she knows her own. For once, Hermione doesn’t mind the change in routine and decides that the summer is far more enjoyable when there are lessons to be learned.

The End