We begin

"It must be Parvati or Lavender!" Hermione said, startled. The girls shouldn't be up in the dormitory so early. She quickly climbed on her bed and pulled Harry up, kicking their shoes under it and closing the draperies around them. "Be quiet, they can't see you here."

"Why not? We are not doing anything wrong!" Harry asked back, outraged. Sometimes Hermione's train of thought was just too fast and weird for him to follow.

"I'm a prefect, I must set the example. No boys inside girls dormitories and vice-versa. They can't know you have a way in, or they'll be sneaking their dates here all the time. Now shut up!"

"Okay, okay." Harry sighed, defeated, lying on the headboard and stretching his legs. He immediately had his senses flooded by the cinnamon smell the soft pillows exhaled. Nice, he thought. He could perfectly well lie there until they left the bedroom again. Maybe even take a nap, if Hermione would let him.

As if on cue, Lavender came stumbling into view, taking Parvati by the arm. But Lavender didn't notice anyone's presence when she turned around and thrusted the other girl on the bedpost of her own bed, across from Hermione's, or when she pinned Parvati's above her head, against the bedpost. Hermione could only see the back of her head, but the way it turned from one side to another was unmistakable. They were kissing, and kissing hard.

The bushy haired witch let out a gasp, but only Harry noticed. She tried to close the last curtain as quietly as possible, and retreated in a rush onto her bed, sitting almost on Harry's lap, which just made him even more suspicious.

"What are you doing?" he whispered in her ear. "Aren't you going to send them off?"

He waited for an answer, but none came. Hermione seemed a bit out of it. Furrowing his brow, he opened one of the side draperies just enough to poke his head outside, and was greeted with one of the hottest sights he had seen: Lavender had Parvati pinned against a bedpost, holding one of her legs around her waist and pressing her own between Parvati's legs, having her backside eagerly groped. Their tongues were dancing in and out of their mouths. Their lipstick was being smeared over their faces, and they really didn't appear to care, as they moaned and sighed and remained completely unaware of him.

Harry sat back on his place. He shouldn't be there, he shouldn't be seeing that. They probably wanted privacy, and more than probably wanted to keep it a secret, or half Hogwarts would already have known. But it was just so...

"H-have you seen it?" Hermione squeaked.

"Y-yes," he squeaked back. "What we-- what do we do now?" Harry looked at the top of Hermione's head, immediately under his nose. She was the brains of the group, always coming up with the best solutions. His logical side bothered him, saiying it wasn't wise or nice to stay there, listening to their moaning - and Merlin, what a great sound it was - for much longer.

"I- I don't know... we... we wait? Yes, right, we wait"

His teenage side immediately agreed with the solution, that wasn't as wise, but was way more exciting. His logical side kept insisting that he should be running away from the room as fast as possible. It lost.

"Okay, then. We wait."

So he waited, with Hermione comfortably propped between his legs, leaning back into his chest while he half-embraced her with one arm, so both would fit in the small space. Her bushy hair tickled his nose. Her somehow exotic cinnamon and sugar scent, mixed with new parchment and old books, her warmth, it all surrounded him. He had gone through all kinds of weird situations, and this was still one of the, say, top ten. It got weirder when he started thinking about all of Hermione's bits that he'd never even thought of thinking about. And how they were all warm and soft and were pressing against him. Then started to gently stroke the skin of his arm, leaving a good tingling sensation, and the weird-o-meter skyrocketed. His best friend since being all touchy was new to him, and he was easily getting used to it.

He kept listening the sound the girls outside were making, while he imagined what they were doing. Maybe Parvati was licking Lavender's breasts? Maybe the opposite? Maybe one had their fingers between the other's legs and they were kissing... Another loud moan came from the outside, and he shut his eyes tight, trying to shake off the mental image that just had to appear in his mind's eye.

Hermione sighed in his lap, biting her lower lip and shifting her hips to a better position. Her wriggling, and his own imagination, set off a reaction that made Harry feel the greatest git of the world. He held the witch firmly against his chest, making her stop - even if he really wanted her to continue.

"D-don't do that, Hermione, I'll-- I won't-- you--"

"Shh! They'll listen!" was her answer. She didn't even look at him. Instead, she loosened her tie and opened the top two buttons of her shirt, resting her head on his shoulder. The wriggling ceased, all right, to be replaced with a nice top view of her cleavage, and the smooth skin of her neck.

Harry felt like a prat. Really. But he couldn't stop the stirring on his groin. Hermione stroking his upper arm didn't help either. He only hoped she wouldn't think he was a pervert (even thought he knew he was), nor wouldn't notice something poking her bum. That, however, was just wishful thinking. There was no way she would miss the... evidence. As much as he tried to think of his best friend as some sort of sexless being, he didn't think of her as dumb. Hermione wasn't that naive.

He was left with the other option: she was being extremely nice about it, and didn't want to embarass him. That thought was discarded in another half-minute, when she wriggled. Again. Deliberately. His breath deepened, and he gripped the bedcovers to try to supress the shudder running down his legs. He buried his face in the hollow of her neck, searching an escape-- and immediatelly regreted it. There was just too much skin, just too close, just waiting for him to taste. Then he felt, more than saw it.

She was grinning. The minx.

That was the exact moment he made his decision. Hermione was evil. Very, very evil. And that excited him. Very, very much.

Two could play that game, though. His hand on the matress snaked to her knee, slowly, caressing her leg. His voice sounded strangely (and maybe purposefully) low and rusky when he drawled in her ear.

"You should have stopped that."

He was pleased to see the goosebumps rising on her fair skin. "Should I?", she teased. His hand was making its way up her leg, on the inside of her thigh, and he could feel her tensing up. The other hand traveled up her stomach in slow circles, through the fabric of her white oxford shirt. The soft friction was enough to leave her wanting more of his touch, building a cold heat in her belly, spreading through her body as a warm tingling sensation. It was just too good to fight.

"But you won't, will you?" He punctuated his question with a brush of his lips on her exposed neck.

"I didn't mean-- I was just--," she tried to justify, but it came out as an weak whimper as Harry's hand reached her breast, brushing her nipple and turning her brain into some sort of pudding. "Harry--!"

He smiled against her neck, poking his tongue out to taste her skin. More cinnamon. More sugar. A hint of vanilla. Not enough. He licked along the path of skin from her shoulder to the soft spot behind her ear, where he sucked and blowed softly, "Good."

Hermione showed her approval by grinding her hips harder against his, as he rolled her nipple between his fingers and sucked on her neck. The fleeting thought of a bruise tomorrow passed through her mind, but there was no time to think about that. The hardening bulge in his pants pressed her from behind, and she rubbed her bum against it, earning herself a growl. Her right hand gripped his upper arm, while the left flew to his jet black hair, both to balance herself and keep his head in place.

Harry, her well-behaved friend and Gryffindor golden boy, wanting her like that, brought out the desire in hot bursts, lust she tried so hard to keep buried under fraternal love.The thrill of doing naughty things hidden, at an innapropriate time, with someone she shouldn't be doing, somewhere she definitely should not be, ran throught her veins like fire. His touches were more arousing, the growing moans from the girls outside were even hotter. Her legs fell open on their own accord.

She didn't know how long she could hold her own moans before she got lost in the wild sensations and thoughts that kept coming. Hermione could already feel wetness in her knickers, and Harry's surprisingly skilled fingers teased her. He undid the remaing buttons on her blouse and pushed her bra up without bothering to unclasp it, massaging her breasts in a way she couldn't think of anything else. He gently circled the hardened nipples with his nails before pinching them, coaxing an almost too loud moan from her.

She wasn't being rational. And, what worried her even more, she didn't want to be. Not when his hand found the band of her knickers, not when he started to trace patterns in the cloth with the tips off his fingers, teasing her, feeling the slight wetness. She squirmed impatiently, wanting more, tightening her grip on him. When Harry finally cupped her, heat once more overcame her body, curling her toes and making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on their ends. Then his fingers went inside and, when he dipped them deep inside her, she could only ask herself why they waited so long to do this.

She threw her head back almost involuntarily, biting her bottom lip to stop herself from moaning too lous. Harry gasped at her wetness and whispered in her ear, trying to feel his way inside her. His hot breath near her neck, saying her name in this awkwardly sexy way, telling her how he wanted her, her, and now, he couldn't wait, his fingers moving among her moist folds, his nails scraping her sensitive skin, made her dizzy and lost and not wanting to come back to real life.

His fingers hit a spot on her clit and she thrust her pelvis forward, not being able to hold back a breathed 'yes!' of approval. He understood there was the place, and started rubbing it harder, while she moved against him. She sucked breaths as he sucked her neck, she gripped his hair as he gripping her. Hermione closed her eyes tightly, seeing stars inside her eyelids, so good and so close and amazing and she didn't want it to end, didn't want THEM to end, it was just so good and so right and so perfect and she rocked harder against him, her breath shorter, shallower, his fingers going deeper while her juices soaked his hand, he squeezed her breasts and bit her neck, saying without saying that she was his and she knew she was, going faster and harder, making her entire body shudder, and then-- oh-

"Hermione..."

She went flying over the edge, with the world around her exploding in bursts of multicolored lights. Shivers ran up and down her body spreading warmness, from the top of her head to the tip of her toes. Her mouth formed an o, letting escape a moan she didn't have the strenght to hold back. Her breath came in gasps. Slowly she came back from her high, while Harry still rubbed her softly, feeling cold when he finally took his hand out from inside her.

He hugged her from behind, still panting, and kissed the top of her head, proceeding to plant light kisses on her to be bruised neck and shoulders. She was so comfortable there, surrounded by Harry's heat and his mint, sweat and freshly-mowen grass scent, snuggling inside his arms, that she dared to think she wanted to be there forever. She didn't want to open her eyes and go back to real life. His touches, rough but gentle, would turn into light hugs and maybe a peck on the cheek. What had just happened would be just a very surreal and disturbing dream, a dream that would keep her awake at night. But-- she wanted this to go on. To find out what else was there. To prove how great they could be, if they'd only be together.

"I think they're asleep, Hermione," he whispered in her ear, "there weren't any sounds from the outside in a while." His voice still sent shivers down her spine, and she had to swallow (wait, was she drooling or something?) before she could speak again.

"So-- well, maybe you should, uh-- go? Not that I want-- you're very-- I mean, it's against-- but you know-- oh, gods!" The words came sort of stumbling out of her mouth, while she tried to stand up on still woobly legs. Her uniform was wrinkled and her skirt askew, some locks of frizzy brown hair sticking out on odd directions around her head, while in some places it was stuck down by sweat. To Harry, she looked even more shaggable than before, when she was doing all those cute whimpers and moans. He let out a small smile. Threading slowly. He could try careful once in a while.

"Ok... I think I'll go, then."

"Yeah, it's for the best." Hermione mumbled, looking down while trying to self-consciously cover her cleavage. It had gotten completely exposed, she didn't exactly remember when. Stepping out of the way, she automatically looked to the other occupied bed, where Parvati and Lavender were spread out, completely naked and sound asleep. She blushed, looking the other way, where she caught sight of Harry's broom. How come the girls hadn't noticed it? She took it from its resting place on the wall and handed it to him, making eye contact for the first time.

Hermione blushed even more. His emerald-green eyes were alight, burning into hers, and she suddenly thought that he didn't really have to go, he could just stay there and finish what he had started, to hell with rules or anyone finding out. But then, she was a prefect, she was the example and he was in her dorm and anyone could see him there and oh Merlin, "PleasejustgobeforeIchangemymind."

His mouth went dry. He was as sure as he could ever be about his wandering thoughts and confusing feelings, and she just about said he wanted him too. She was driving him to the edge, what else he could do if not jump?

Only two steps were needed to trap her between his body and the wall. Hermione could smell him, in his body and hers, could almost hear their heart thumping in the same pace.

"Maybe I want you to."

She drew a deep sigh and bit her lower lip. Maybe she wanted too.

"I'm serious. Please," she pleaded. "You know... Ron... and we're friends!"

He seemed to ignore her completely, extending his arm in a way she was sure he'd hold and kiss her. Her heart skipped a beat and she closed her eyes, as even that didn't matter anymore. Deep down, she knew she'd throw everything away for him, without a second thought. But his hand never reached her. It went for the broom she was holding, instead. It was Harry, after all. He'd be chivalrous and respect her wishes. And all the time she tried to deny to herself she was feeling a bit hurt. She wanted him to want her that much.

A hug, and her face broke in a smile. Her world suddenly seemed more colorful, while her body seemed to melt in a different kind of fuzzy warmness.

When she opened her eyes, he was not there anymore. She didn't worry. For a second, it was clear as water he'd come back soon. She knew there was more to come. It was inevitable. He would be back, as he was hers. And, even if she still didn't want to admit, she was his.