Glory Fades

I know I should be working on other things.

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Sitting back on the lounge in the library Harry closed his eyes at the noise above him, shouts muffled by doors, the dull thud of something being thrown against the wall and then the heavy stomp of boots down the stairs and the slam of the front door. He knew Hermione was still in her room, probably crying or cursing or doing any number of things to make herself feel better. She and Ron had been fighting a lot more, almost every night and Harry could only sit back and watch, refusing to be drawn into it. He never really knew what they were fighting over, only that it made Ron storm out and Hermione quiet for days. Sighing, he let his head fall back as he slipped off to sleep.

He woke later to a weight on his lap and opened his eyes to see Hermione perched above him, nightshirt bunched around her waist as she looked down at him.

“’Mione… what?”

“Shh, let me just…”

She never finished, reaching down between them to touch his cock through his trousers and he jumped at the contact. They’d never done that; he’d never thought she’d want to, she… there was Ron. He tried to edge back but she was persistent, rubbing and pressing until he ached. She didn’t say a word, kept her eyes on her hand as she got him hard and she didn’t wait before she pulled the waistband down, freeing his cock quickly. He tried to hold her off, hands on her hips but she rose up swiftly before plunging back down, taking him deep inside her.

He’d never really been with a girl before, not all the way and the searing wet heat that engulfed him made his jaw clench as his hands fluttered uselessly around her hips. He tried not to pant as she rocked her hips, eyes closed as she let her head rest against his shoulder. He didn’t know whether to touch her or keep his hands to himself. He didn’t know the rules, she hadn’t said and she wasn’t talking and he didn’t know if he wanted her to stop or keep going. The jerk of her hips got rougher and he bit back a whimper as she tightened around him.

He tried to count in Latin, recite potion ingredients in his head, anything to stall the pressure that was building at the base of his spine, sliding down to his bollocks as they drew up tightly. He didn’t want to cum, didn’t want to disappoint her because he did realize that it was about her, not him. She needed him, to be hard, to hold off. Not shoot his load like an over eager child. He could feel the sweat drip from his temple as he bit his lip, wanting to touch her, kiss her.

She gave a stuttered gasp; breath hitching as she ground down hard and he let himself go. He didn’t cry out but he whined low in his throat as he coated her insides. He’d been so lost, so focused on her and her heat surrounding him he hadn’t noticed anything else. He looked up at her but she wasn’t even looking at him, instead she looked over his head, eyes hard. He turned quickly, words dying in his throat as Ron stood there, fists clenched as he stared at them both. He didn’t speak and Harry wanted to say something, anything to make things right, to fix things before it was too late but he knew, it was already too late.

For the first time Ron didn’t yell or throw hexes, he just turned and walked away. Hermione watched him go before pressing away from him, one hand tucking her nightshirt between her legs to stop his seed from sliding down her thighs. He wanted to help her, pick her up and carry her to bed, hold her and sleep but he knew she wouldn’t allow it. Tucking himself back into his trousers he couldn’t take his eyes off her as she walked away, she never looked back.