A.N: Male Homo sapiens here, so I have no idea how a scheming female would act. This is straight from my imagination, combined with what little writing skills I have. After the overeager Harry in the last two instalments, I thought it was time for the vivacious Hermione Granger to take centre stage.

Rating: Obviously M. As if I was going to write anything rated 'T' to my readers. This is smut, hopefully written tastefully and not crass.

Setting: Harry and Hermione's flat, five, may be six, may be seven years (who cares about how many years? Just sit back and enjoy) after the Hogwarts graduation. Mischievous, seductive Hermione, innocent Harry. Hehe.




Harry Potter was exhausted. He had been running, well, apparating all over Britain today with the rest of the Auror office, setting up the new Tag-Net for magical outbursts. After the Voldemort era, it was obvious that the existing machinery of the British Ministry was not up to the task of detecting concentrations of Dark Magic. The system that had been in place could place the time and position of a magical event. But if it was something illegal, the Auror office was often lacking in responding quickly.

After Harry had been bumped up from a trainee to full-fledged Auror within six months – a record for the DMLE – and then to Head of the Auror office within a further three years – again a record - he had been one of the most vocal exponents for a new apparatus to be set up in place. With Kingsley, the Minister of Magic, and the Potter and Black seats backing him up, he had wasted no time getting the bill pushed through.

Devised by the Department of Mysteries, the new Tag-Net responded to magical fluctuations and the signatures accompanying them. This was made possible by setting up a grid of rune stones all over Britain in key places. Then accordingly, based on the nature of the magic – calculated by some abstruse runic formula conceived by the Unspeakables and inscribed on the stone - it tagged the perpetrator with a tracer which was immediately catalogued at the DMLE war room, setting up the department for an immediate response. It had cost a pretty galleon, but the results were well worth it.

Harry mentally shook himself as he prepared himself to apparate to his flat. It wasn't so much a flat as much as it was an expansive penthouse. It was actually a Potter property located in the very middle of London, in close proximity to the Ministry of Magic and the Leaky Cauldron. He had also chosen it because it was within touching distance of St. Mungo's, where his flatmate, Hermione Granger worked.

And part of the reason why he was so eager to get back was because she, Hermione, had promised him a massage. And if there was one concrete truth in Harry's topsy-turvy life, it was that Hermione Granger's massages and hugs were to die for.

And there was no way in fuck he was going to miss one.

As he walked up to the elevator – he always chose to apparate into the alley behind the building – he thought back to how the preceding years had panned out.

Everyone had expected a happy Weasley family after the war, but it was not to be. For the sake of brevity, Ron and Luna were engaged, Ginny was back with Dean and Harry and Hermione were both living together with highly successful careers and bright futures. Living in close quarters – first Hogwarts and then now - for so many years had brought them closer. Their friendships during their formative years had been the cornerstone of their relationship now, which was stronger than ever.

The cumulative result of everything between them, their closeness, their friendship, them having witnessed and experienced each other's lows and highs during the war and most recently, successes had all filtered down into three fundamental conclusions.

Firstly, and quite simply put, they were the most important people in each other's lives. Bar none.

Secondly, it had left them absolutely unable to hide anything from each other.

Thirdly, and most importantly, they were also single and secretly in love, desperately pining for each other.

Harry turned the key and let himself in. Both he and Hermione had agreed to keep the magic minimal since the penthouse they were living in was located smack in middle of muggle London.

Hermione's voice called out. "Harry is that you?"

Harry's eyelids fell closed in response. Her soft, dulcet and if he might hope, loving tone was the one thing he looked most forward to when he came home. It was a happy co-incidence that her hours at the hospital always ended before his did. It was a constant; his Hermione would always be there to welcome him home. Whether said home was Hogwarts or the penthouse, it was home if Hermione was with him.

Breaking himself out the silly stupor he had seemingly fallen into at her voice, he replied, his tone affectionate with a hint of love, which he did his best to contain inspite of himself.

"It's me Mione."

"I'm in the shower. You get comfortable. Be with you in a moment."

Harry smiled. "Waiting for you, Mione."

Proceeding to his room, Harry shed his Auror robes. Grabbing a thin, well-worn Gryffindor shirt and a pair of boxers, he stepped into his bathroom for a short shower, where he rinsed himself off the dirt and grime of the day.

Just as he finished drying himself and stepped into his boxers, Hermione's voice sounded again.

"Harry? Where are you?"

He pulled on the t-shirt on in haste and entered the bedroom. "In my bedroom, Mione. You still up for the message you promised me?"

"Ha-ha. Very funny. I'm coming in now. Make sure you're dressed."

Harry started a little. Was it just him, or had Hermione's voice gone a little sultry?

He smiled and shook his head in response. Hermione was too sweet to be sultry. He was overthinking things. He heard her footsteps as she entered his bedroom. He was facing away from her, so when he turned to greet her, he received the shock of his life.

Oh dear Merlin. Help me.

Hermione was clad in a robe. To be precise, a thin, black silk robe that was tied at her waist with a strand of the same, diaphanous silky material. From what he could see, she had nothing underneath it. Nothing substantial in the least.

It clung to every curve and every nuance of her glistening body, leaving nothing to the imagination. The mouth-watering hills of her breasts, the slight, delicate arc of her waist and hips and those long, slim and sexy legs of hers stood out in a way that the Hogwarts uniform and her Mungo's work ensemble simply could not do justice. Drops of water, fresh from her shower dripped from her damp hair, tracing a much coveted path down her neck, eventually caressing her collarbones and disappearing into her alluring cleavage. A wonderful fragrance of vanilla and baby soap clung to her, wreathing around Harry's senses and enchanting him completely.

Her soft hair, damp from the shower framed her face beautifully, driving every single iota of air from his lungs.

As if that was not enough to put poor Harry into a comma, she also wore a smile, complete with twinkling cinnamon eyes. A mischievous, lovely smile full of designs and secrets. Her massage kit hung in a little bag from her hand.

She looked like an angel, a scheming, lovely angel.

"So Harry, you ready?" she asked, her tone still husky and sultry. She was still gazing into his eyes, a look he had never seen before in hers.

Harry stood petrified. They had been friends for more than ten years and never had he seen, or imagined that he would see Hermione Granger in such a state. To his long celibate soul and body, she was nothing less than a goddess. To add to the load on his already short-circuited brain, she was going to give him a head and shoulder rub and it was very possible that her womanly charms would come in contact with him, brush against him during this massage.

Forget a massage. With the state that Harry was in now, even the slightest touch from her could lead to very embarrassing situations. He was already aroused, hard and throbbing. And the last thing he wanted to do was to appear like an adolescent, out of control teenager in front of his closest friend nearly fifteen years and secret love for a few less.

Especially when she looked this delectable, gorgeous even. His reply came in a sputter, his mouth struggling to form clear, lucid speech.

"H-H-Hermione, what's all this?" He waved his hand vaguely in her direction, not sure of what he was indicating himself. He was sure his IQ had dropped into single digits.

She winked, winked at him in response, mischief lighting up her eyes. "Just thought that I would get comfy. Merlin knows how long we're going to be in here, especially since you've had a long and tiring day. Why? Do I look ugly?"

Her mouth, those luscious, strawberry tinted lips of hers had settled into a pout that was both somehow adorable and seductive – lethal - at the same time as she licked them for extra emphasis, her tiny pink tongue causing Harry's pulse to escalate rapidly.

Ugly? She thinks she looks UGLY? Dear god, she could raise dead men from their fucking graves without the Resurrection Ring or Necromancy! Potter, you are so screwed.

It was official. Hermione Granger was going to achieve what Voldemort had never managed too.

She was going to kill Harry Potter.

Sans Avada Kedavra.


Hermione was enjoying herself a lot. Harry looked adorably confused and downright terrified by her tonight. She was so going to milk this for all it was worth, and then some more. It had been a long wait of missed opportunities and chances, teenage angst and quarrels to finally be with the man she loved.

But no more. She was seizing this by the horns.

"So Harry, why don't you get your shirt off?"

Harry's expression turned into one of panic.


Hermione smirked vindictively. She was going to make him pay for all the times he had unknowingly left her wet, hot and bothered. She had to make do with her fingers and a damn dildo when she could've been ravished by him. She sneaked a peak at his crotch. Sure enough, his boxers were tented and her tongue involuntarily wet her lips.

"Silly boy, you'll get lotion and oil all over your shirt. Besides I need you bare for the massage. How else am I going to work on you if you're dressed, dear?" Hermione's timbre was low, sultry and all kinds of sexy while maintaining a semblance of faux innocence.

All for show, of course.

Harry found himself in a quandary. On one hand he had always wanted himself and Hermione like this, alone and half dressed, albeit in a different situation and heading towards a different culmination. On the other hand, if Hermione saw how affected he was by her, it could damage their friendship. It was one of the most cherished constants in his life and he was loath to damage it in any way. Especially by his little-boy mannerisms.

"Mione, I don't think that's a good idea." He stammered, much to his embarrassment. He was further mortified when caught sight of Hermione's lips quirked in a knowing smile, before she quickly schooled her features and replied, her tone once again bossy and cute.

"Nonsense Harry. If you're uncomfortable with me, how can you be at ease with anybody else?" Not that I want you to be comfortable with any other woman other than me, my love.

Her thoughts unknowingly echoed Harry's. I can't get comfortable with any other girl, Mione. You're the only one for me.

Outwardly, Harry made a show of reluctantly trying to remove his T-shirt. He stilled when he felt her fingers brush his ribcage, moving upwards to assist him in taking his shirt off. He shivered as her fingers smoothed over his pectorals, shoulders and his arms.

Doesn't mean anything, he thought. She's just helping me. I shouldn't be affected so much.

Yeah, right.

Once out of the shirt, he was greeted with the sight - well vision, really – of Hermione sitting way closer to him than she had been before. Was it just him, or had the fastening of her robe become just a tad bit loose? His eyes were drawn to the soft, moist skin of her neck and delicious cleavage, the silky curve of forbidden flesh drawing him in with a vengeance. His eyes fell a little lower and he caught sight of her nipples peeking through the silk of her gown, aroused and stiff. He gulped as his eyes locked onto Hermione's which were swimming with some unidentifiable emotion, her cinnamon orbs all too expressive and mysterious at once.

Hermione held her breath as her heart skipped a beat or two. Inspite of sharing living quarters with Harry for more than six years, she was not prepared for how much his bare torso affected her.

Merlin, he was absolutely ripped.


Once again, the kinky haired witch thanked the Gods for Quidditch and Harry's Auror training as she ran her eyes covetously over the specimen of masculinity before her. Harry's skin was as damp as hers, the moisture bringing his musculature into stark relief. She took a deep breath and his cologne both soothed and aroused her, the familiarity of the scent and the anticipation of the evening assaulting her psyche one after the other.

Hell, her panties were soaked, her pulse was going through the roof and her nipples were chafed raw.

Once finished with her perusal, she chanced a glance at Harry's face, noting with a mentally satisfied smirk that his eyes were fixed on her chest, hunger and wariness being the chief feelings in those captivating emeralds. Her heart was filled to bursting with the love she had for the man before her and it didn't take long before lust too, was added to the cocktail of passions welling up within her.

But no, she reminded herself. She would not jump him, as much as her body urged her to do so. She would seduce him, revealing her feelings to him, but by bit. He would surrender himself to her, heart, body, mind and soul. And then she would submit herself to him, forever.

Her eyes lost that cloudy sheen of arousal as she returned her focus to Harry. She moved to the edge of his bed as she picked the bottle of massage oil and beckoned Harry nearer.

"Harry, come here." Her legs fell open invitingly as she gestured to the carpeted floor between her thighs. "Get in here. It'll be easier for me." She looked at him, smirking internally as his eyes were fixed to bit of silky thigh revealed due to the motion, his Adam's apple jerking as he swallowed noisily.

Harry tentatively shifted to where she asked him to, all the time aware that he was digging himself into a deeper hole by doing this. Nevertheless, he had never been able to say no to her. Of course, the need to be closer to her under whatever pretext possible also did not help matters.

His breath caught as her thighs hidden under the flimsy excuse for a robe came into contact with his shoulders. The feel of them was the most erotic thing that Harry – who was still a virgin – had ever experienced. The heat emanating from her femininity was absolutely intense and seductive, and it was plain that she was not hiding it as she pressed closer to him.

He looked up and caught Hermione's eyes as she poured the massage oil into her palms. Her eyes were hypnotic, glistening with the same emotion that Harry had seen often when she was with him these days.

Could he hope?

The aroma of the oils reached him, shifting his musings to his immediate predicament

Right. The massage Harry. The Massage. You are here for a good, relaxing massage. Not to ravish the beautiful woman who is your best friend. Not to make passionate love to the gorgeous female who is at this very moment cradling you between her thighs… and whose arousal you can smell and see … divine though it may smell… and whom you have loved for so long…


Harry was shaken into lucidity as Hermione touched his shoulders, gently working the oil on her palms into his skin. Wherever she touched, she left trails of sensitive skin and goose bumps behind. Her hands felt completely heavenly as she zoned into the knots and aches that the week of hectic work had left behind. Even as she worked her fingers into the groves between his muscles and eased away the remnants of his week, the pain and niggles turned vestigial, leaving only the soothing and arousing feeling of Hermione's hands on his body. Just as he was getting comfortable, Hermione spoke.

"Harry, get on the bed. I can't reach you while you're sitting on the floor." She got up to fetch a towel from the cabinet.

As she walked away, his eyes followed the curve of her hips, the sway in them setting fire to his blood. And that arse of hers looked mouth-watering in that sinful robe. Merlin, all he wanted was to feel her body beneath his, writhing in ecstasy and crying out his name as he pounded into her, over and over and over.

Where did that come from? He thought.

For a virgin, his thoughts weren't all that pure when it came to Hermione. If he was honest to himself, he had long had explicit dreams about Hermione, all which ended in them being connected in some intimate, heated and erotic way.

"Lie down, Harry."

He was shaken to reality at Hermione's voice. She had spread the towel out on the bed and was motioning to him. Harry quietly followed her instructions, wanting to get back to the soothing feel of her hands on his body.

He lay face down on the towel as she spread another handful of the oil on his back. Her hands followed his spine, kneading each vertebrae with care and expertise. A contented groan slipped through his lips.

"Mione, that feels so good. Oh Merlin, don't stop."

Hermione smirked. Time to up the ante.

Harry lay, feeling peaceful and relaxed. This massage was the best idea she'd had in a long time. Tonight he would cook all of Mione's favourites to show his appreciation.

Alas, it did not last long.

He was harshly reminded of the pickle he was in when Hermione's breasts brushed against his back as she leaned down to apply just a bit more of pressure. If she noticed it, she didn't give away anything. Harry on the other hand was almost hyperventilating as the softness of her ample bosom repeatedly brushed against his skin. The sheerness of her robe did nothing to blunt the sensation. If anything, the concoction of silk and soft flesh only exacerbated it.

He could make out her nipples, two points of hardness in midst of the tender masses of flesh playing havoc with his senses.

How did it go from being relaxing to arousing so fast?

The brush of her soft flesh became a press as Hermione was practically straddling him in order to work out that last niggle from the base of his spine. He could feel her breasts grazing, grinding against him, as she went through with her massage.

He could not bear it any longer.

He shot up from his position and turned to face Hermione, still on the bed as his eyes roved wildly over her and he attempted to calm down his heartbeat. He noted that her robe had further loosened. To his amazement, a soft, rosy circle of flesh was just visible over the cloth where the robe had slipped from her shoulder, revealing the sinful curve of her breast. His mouth went dry as he realised what a slight tug of the cloth could do.

"Mione! What the hell?"


Hermione had been enjoying the feel of Harry Potter in her arms. His body felt warm and solid under her hands. She presses closer to him, unknowingly entrapping him between her legs and her groin very close to his back. She almost moaned out aloud at the thought of that body pressing against her, ravishing her, making love to her. She then called up him up on to the bed to get him closer.

Seeking to intensify the sensations, she shifted her torso forward to bring the swell of her breasts into contact with his body in some form. She couldn't control himself. If he didn't understand her signals soon, she was honest-to-god going to jump him and tear his clothes off like some Neanderthal.

Just as her nipples brushed against him, the combination of male and silk sending fire straight to her core, Harry freed himself from the hold she had him under, exclamations on his lips.

She looked at him with a deer-in-the-headlights look in her eyes. For all her seduction, confidence, and designs for the evening - and by extension, night – when push came to shove, she was going to chicken out.

This was not some one night stand. She loved this man from the bottom of her heart. One bad move could make or break this.

All right, she thought as she regained her composure. Confidence is the key.

She looked at him straight in the eyes as she spoke, a come-hither look in her own.

"What do you think I was doing Harry?" Her voice was the most seductive and sultry it had been all evening as she moved closer to him in all her alluring glory.

Harry who was expecting denials, apologies and what not, was struck dumb by Hermione's straight out admission.

She had been doing this knowingly!


Hermione smirked, her expression a little exasperated and fond at the same time.

Time to dive in head first.

"What more does a girl have to do to get a man to realise that has feelings for him, Harry?"

Her honest revelation had Harry reeling back in shock, even as she moved closer to him. Harry stared at her with wide eyed, his heart thumping the fastest it had done in years.

"Y-Y-You have feelings for me?"

Hermione smiled at him. Honestly, the guy was too cute for words! But now, it was time for actions. In this kind of a situation, words were overrated anyway.

Moving closer to him, she crushed her body against his without any reservations. Looping her arms behind his neck, she pulled him nearer and sealed her lips against his, all in one smooth movement.

Harry's eyelids involuntarily fell closed as he was assailed by Hermione on all sides. The feel of her soft lips against his chapped ones, her tongue exploring his mouth, the warmth of her supple body against his and the muted moans she was letting out were telling havoc on him.

Before he could reciprocate, she had already released his lips and was trailing soft, suckling kisses along his neck. Harry shivered as her tongue came out to caress his pulse before she was nibbling at his skin. A moan passed his lips, unbidden. This was the most pleasure he had ever felt in his life. The fact that this was Hermione Granger feasting away on him like there was no tomorrow was the biggest bonus, ever.

"Oh God, Mione. Don't stop, please."

Harry's moans spurred Hermione on like nothing else did. She was no virgin, but having remained celibate for the last three years had her libido taking over, robbing her of all coherent thought. She doubled her efforts, seeking to give him the most pleasure she could.

Her hands were tracing the outline of his abdomen, her fingers running over his abs, pectorals and sides. His breathing was harsh and laboured. She looked up to meet his eyes and noted that the brilliant emerald had darkened to a bottle green, but seemed hesitant at the same time, a sure sign of his arousal and restraint.

That and the significant tent his boxers were pitching kind of gave it away. Harry spoke up, stuttering and hesitating.

"I too have feelings for you, Mione. But we don't have to do this." He took a deep breath and continued. "I have never done anything of this sort, Hermione. I don't want to disappoint you." His tone was as timid as she had ever heard it to be.

If anything, Hermione's arousal only increased at his words and she turned more resolute. Feminine pride coursed through her at being Harry's first. He was hers and no one else's. At the same time, regret coursed through her for not being able to give him her first time. But she brushed those thoughts away. It had been a long time coming, and she had never sought out another partner again after she realised the magnitude of her feelings for Harry.

Well, she would have to wait no longer.

She let her lips gradually map his body all the way to his chest as her hands gradually moved from his waist to his boxers. Winking seductively at him, she let her tongue sneak out and touched the tip to his flat nipple. At the same time, her hands were sneaking inside his boxers. She let her mouth completely enclose his nipple as her hands firmly grasped his length.

Harry arched his back and gave a strangled groan. His mind had gone scrambled at the feel of the wet, seductive contact of Hermione's mouth on his flesh. In addition, her tiny hands were working magic on his hard length. Never had he been subjected to so much pleasure.

"Oh Merlin, love. That feels so good. Fuck!"

Hermione gave him an extra vigorous tug in response.

"Shit! Oh Lord!"

Inspite of herself, Hermione couldn't believe the current situation they were in. Sure, she had dreamt of this countless times, but as was the case often, fantasy paled in comparison to reality. This man before her was her closest friend and confidant since she had stepped into the magical world. He was the most sought after bachelor in the wizarding world. After he had defeated Voldemort, he had risen to the echelons of the wizarding world's foremost legends alongside Dumbledore, Nicholas Flamel and Merlin, to name a few.

The fact that she had him under her complete control was really arousing to say the least.

Making up her mind, she pushed him on to his back, leaving him sprawled on the bed.

"Lift your hips Harry."

Gulping, he did as she commanded him to. She hooked her fingers around the waistband of his boxer shorts and gave them a tug. A further tug, and the Wizarding World's most desired man lay naked before her.

She simply couldn't control herself.

Harry lay there, gaping as Hermione blew a kiss at him and let the knot on her robe come loose. Slowly, bit by delicious bit, she revealed herself to Harry. Her breasts were the first pair he had ever seen, and to his inexperienced eyes, they looked ever so beautiful. Her nipples, rosy and delicate stood erect, making his mouth water. Her skin was smooth and unmarked, the colour of alabaster. Even the old scars from her injuries from the war were non-existent now. Her legs went on for ever, long, strong and smooth.

Bare and gorgeous, all she had on were a pair of lavender panties. Wet, sheer and silky, they clung to the contours of her most sacred region and framed her hips delightfully, leaving nothing to the imagination. Harry could see the arousal that graced Hermione Granger's femininity, leaving her camel toe clearly visible. His fingers twitched desperately.

Hermione Granger was flawless and she was his.

"So beautiful Mione, so beautiful. Lord, you're so much lovelier than I ever imagined, my love."

Hermione blushed, affected both his words and reaction. Her heart swelled with his term of endearment.

"Love, Harry? Do you mean it?" He had to clarify himself.

Harry nodded, leaving no doubt in her mind. "I love you Hermione Jane Granger. Have done for years."

Hermione lifted his hand to her lips, leaving delicate kisses on each of his fingers.

"I love you too, Harry James Potter. Let me show you just how much."

Her hands went to his hips as she lowered her lips to his straining member, leaving no doubt as to what she meant by 'just showing'.

Harry's let a groan slip past his lips as Hermione kissed the very tip of his member. Her lips were barely touching him, leaving his hips to strain towards the warmth of her welcoming mouth. Accepting his unspoken request, she kissed his manhood once more, this time clutching him in both hands, leaving no inch untouched. Her tongue bathed him in saliva as she ran it all around the crown of his manhood.

Hermione smirked at his starry eyed expression as she trailed her mouth up and down his length, with broad, flat strokes of tongue. Harry's hand came to entangle themselves in her hair as he spurred her efforts on. She opened her mouth wide, slowly, but surely swallowing him down her throat.

Harry let out a hoarse moan, pleas slipping from his lips.

"Oh Fuck, Hermione! Just like that, just like that love. I love you, Mione, please keep on going, please."

Hermione began moving her mouth, controlling her gag reflex as her throat provided the most pleasure Harry had ever experienced in his life. Her teeth and tongue soon joined in with slight scrapes and teasing licks, as Harry rapidly neared completion. His moans changed accordingly.

"Mione, please. Please love, just a little more. Fuck, I'm going to cum, love."

Her response was take his scrotum in her hands and fondle it, providing a delicious friction against the wrinkled skin. Her nails scratched the hairless region, wreaking chaos on his control as her ministrations all but bathed him in sensual delight.

Speaking about control…

"I'm cumming Mione. FUUUUUCK!"

Hermione Granger did what she had never done before, she swallowed all of Harry's load as it poured in endless torrents down her throat. To Harry's credit and surprise, it was a big load. Celibacy would do that to you. After he had finished ejaculating he collapsed onto the bed, boneless and satisfied.

She wiped her lips, a shit-eating grin on her face.

"How was that, love?" Harry just let out a few groans. Her ministrations had left him drained him like nothing before. He let a wry smile cross his lips.

"How did this go from being a massage session to a lovemaking one, Mione? Not that I'm complaining or anything."

Hermione smiled a loving smile as she settled into his arms, kissing him on his lips. She loved this, loved the fact that she could kiss him anytime, anyplace and anywhere now.

At long last, he was hers.

"We've been dancing around our feelings for long enough, Harry. This," she gestured at the two of them, "has been on the cards for a while now. I just couldn't wait any longer."

He pecked her on the nose, "Trust me, dear. I couldn't be more thankful. But now, it's your turn."

He shifted to align himself with her, letting her relax against the sheets.

"I love you so much Mione. Thank you so much returning my feelings. Now let me take care of you."

Harry may have been a virgin and lacked experience, but that did not mean that he was floundering. He simply had one goal in his mind.


He kissed her sweetly, lips caressing her softly, lovingly, with the air of someone handling something very precious. He sucked at her upper lip, revelling in her taste as his tongue explored the haven that was Hermione Granger's mouth.

"Mione, guide me at times, will you? It's my first time."

Hermione kissed him back just as tenderly. "Anything you do will be all right Harry. This night has already surpassed my expectations. I love you, my green eyed seeker."

Harry bent his head to kiss her fluttering pulse, his lips barely touching her creamy skin. A soft moan, the first of many, slipped past her mouth. Her skin was over sensitive, nerve endings going off everywhere.


His tongue sneaked out to taste her skin in response, lightly licking at the alabaster stretch of flesh. His mouth soon joined in, leaving delicate, butterfly kisses as he gradually kissed, licked and sucked his way down her body. Every lick and kiss left her tingling. The soft flesh of her throat, her collarbones, the hollow of her neck, he left no place untouched. By the time he arrived at his destination, Hermione was breathless with anticipation.

"Oh Harry. Just like that, love. God you make me feel so good." Moans and sighs issued from her mouth as she writhed around on the bed.

Harry, meanwhile was tracing kisses around the upper part of her breasts. They looked so soft, so delicate with their rosy, tiny nipples, smooth aureoles and so very delicious that he was almost afraid to touch them. He had watched them, wondered about them so many times, about what it would be like to touch them, to taste them, to make her moan his name as he ravished her…

Hermione watched his eyes as he hesitated, longingly gazing at her chest.


His eyes immediately switched places, locking onto hers with a bit of panic in his expression, his cheeks flushing red.

"Sorry Mione, I didn't mean to stare."

She tenderly kissed the crown of his head. "Harry, I'd be more worried if you hadn't stared. Do what you want love. I'm all yours."

Harry closed his eyes as his heart committed her words to memory.

Hermione Granger was his. Mind, body and soul, she was all his.

And she was currently in his bed, spread out like some decadent feast. His tongue snaked out to wet his lips in anticipation. Hermione, watching him intently, moaned in anticipation herself.

Harry kissed her clavicle once again, building up her excitement to unbearable levels. His lips made tracks all over her succulent flesh, tasting and licking her breasts to his fill. When his lips hovered at long last over her nipple, Hermione could bear it no longer. She clamped her arms around his neck and pulled his head down to her chest.

Harry's lips enveloped her nipple and she cried out his name over and over again, writhing and arching her back in his arms.

"Harry… oh fuck Harry…. Mmmmmmmmmmm love, it feels so nice… yes…"

Harry was not listening to any of this, though. He was captivated by the feel of her flesh in his mouth. Soft, smooth and pliant, Hermione Granger's breast was the most delightful thing he had ever tasted, and he could not simply get enough of it.

Eventually, he shifted his attentions to the other breast, giving it the same affectionate and slightly hungry treatment. His tongue would skim her nipple and the region around it while his teeth would gently bite into her flesh, sending tremors of pleasure coursing down her nerve paths. Hermione groaned and clutched him tighter to her, prompting Harry to get even more aggressive with her.

He started giving tiny, teasing bites to her soft flesh, making her moan aloud. By this point, Hermione was writhing around so much that he had to settle his palms on her waist to hold her in place. Harry's tongue was hard at work, his slight licks and touches now becoming more forceful as he licked wide swathes of pleasure on her soft, sensitive flesh. His teeth eventually took hold of a nipple and pulled it slightly away from her breast.


Hermione Granger was going frenzied with lust. Harry's soft caresses had magnified into passionate perusals of her breasts and the sensitive things they were, he had caused her to absolutely go mad with pleasure.

Harry smirked and took hold of her breast, eventually sucking – or attempting to - the whole of the flesh into his mouth. His other hand massaged the twin with equal alacrity prompting Hermione Granger to orgasm.


Hermione gushed out in rapture, her panties almost dissolving with the wetness that flooded them. Harry was an excellent lover, no doubt. Hermione salivated at the thought of him learning every nuance of pleasure and love making and applying it her.

Harry, wasn't stopping though. He wasn't sure of what had just happened, but Hermione looked as beautiful as ever, as she lay on the bed, boneless and satiated. He wanted to give more of this to his love, and besides, he had more of her delicious body to discover.

Hermione's hips arched automatically as Harry tugged her sodden panties down in one smooth motion. His lips were gently caressing the smooth skin of her waist and tummy, giving little kisses to her belly button and her hips. Her silky smooth skin tingled. His hands were running up and down her smooth thighs, squeezing and stroking them. He eventually moved up to her ass, massaging it and tracing its curves and dips.

Hermione moaned at his enthusiastic ministrations as his lips eventually moved down, closer to the junction of her thighs. He felt drawn to the sacred, mysterious region between her legs, her beautiful core and pink flesh peeking out from between her glistening folds.

The scent.

The beauty.

The pure eroticism in the fact that he was orally pleasuring her.

The femininity of Hermione Granger called to him.

Oh Hell…

Hermione screamed out as Harry fell upon her core, ravishing it without any measure of finesse or restraint. His lips, tongue and teeth were going haywire as he set about making her go absolutely insane with pleasure. Her clit, lips, flesh, none were spared from the inexperienced but very enthusiastic ministrations of Harry Potter. Her legs were pointed straight into the air, supported by his broad shoulders as Harry feasted upon her, hell bent on drinking in every single drop of her essence. He sighed in content as his thirst was quenched, bit by bit.

Hermione Granger was in a world of pleasure. Nothing existed, except for her and the wonderful man currently destroying her sanity.

Piece. By. Piece.

Oh, but what a beautiful demolition it was. What else could be more satisfying than revealing your entire being to the person whom you love the most in this world? Without reservations? Without boundaries?

And most importantly…

Without clothes.

All of it came to a head when Harry pushed his tongue deep into her channel, overcome by his need to taste her. Taste all of her. His wish came true a second later when Hermione climaxed, spilling herself right into his welcoming mouth.

Hermione twitched, sighing incoherently as her body let go of the last remnants of her orgasm. She looked at Harry adoringly as he smiled at her sheepishly, his face carrying evidence of her high.

"Oh love, that was wonderful. Have you done this before?"

Harry smiled at her, shaking his head. "Nope. Every single of my firsts are with you." He scrunched up his nose. "Except my first kiss, that is."

Hermione sighed indulgently at him, as he shifted himself so that her thighs were cradling him.

"Harry, make love to me?" She said as she looked deep into his eyes.

Harry kissed her once, twice, thrice, as his hands lifted her thighs to encircle his waist. They were lying on his bed, the towel and the oils all forgotten as they curled around each other in the age old position. Harry looked deep into her eyes, kissing her forehead in a loving gesture that had Hermione closing her eyes, as he eased himself into her.

They both loved, absolutely loved, how good it felt.

Harry's senses were all over the place and all he could concentrate was on her warmth, her dampness and the vice-like grip that her channel was exerting on his manhood. Hermione could only moan his name as he reached deep inside her, stretching her in places she didn't know existed.

It was heaven.

Hermione looked into Harry's emeralds as he started moving, slowly, smoothly, sheathing himself in her over and over again with all the tenderness he could muster. He wanted this to be as drawn out as it could be. He wanted this, their first time to be imprinted on their memories. He wanted to make this memorable.

"Oh Mione, you feel exquisite, love."

Hermione drew him down for another searing kiss as Harry continued to plunge into her, her nails scratching his back and leaving deep furrows. Never in her life had she felt pleasure like this. To think, that this was Harry's first time. Truly, nothing else mattered when you were with the one you loved most.

"Yes Harry, faster. Faster love. OH GOD!"

Tongues wrestled, bodies met each other endlessly, over and over again as Harry and Hermione neared completion. Harry was now driving himself into her with every bit energy he could muster, her name spilling past his lips in a hoarse cry and Hermione crying out his name endlessly as the two-best-friends-turned-lovers climaxed exactly at the same moment.

Hermione clutched Harry fiercely to her as he emptied himself in her, her juices mixing with his, warmth blossoming within her as she sighed happily. Her lips found Harry's in a tender kiss as he gathered her soft, sated form to him, drawing the sheets around them.

Harry stroked her hair tenderly, gazing into her eyes.

"I love you Mione. So much."

Hermione kissed his nose shyly, sighing aloud in happiness.

She had her man…

"As do I, Harry. As do I."


A.N: It got a little sappy and romantic towards the end, didn't it? Couldn't control myself. I recommend that you listen to a song from 'The Amazing Spiderman 2 OST' – 'Song for Zula', by Phosphorescent while you read the second half of this fic.

Thoughts? I would appreciate feedback.


Lust of Alucard.