Chapter 4

"Oh Harry . . . I've wanted you for so long . . . . ." And she leaned back and kissed him soundly on the lips. Without breaking eye contact with him, she slowly lifted her hips up just a little, and slowly reached down to guide him into her. Her hands were a little shaky as she wrapped her fingers around him, she pulled it back just a little, so that it touched her entrance, the tip of his manhood spreading her moist lips apart. Professor McGonagall's heart was pounding; her breathing a little shallow as she slowly guided him into herself, a long awaited moan escaping her lips as she felt him slide into her. Harry held onto her hips as she gently sank herself onto him, she felt so warm inside, so wet; he could barely think straight as he arched his back against the sofa to push himself further and further into her. It felt wonderful, the way her femininity enveloped him, almost squeezed him as she sent his nerves into disarray. He looked up to her face, the professor had her eyes closed, her mouth hanging open slightly as she slowly raised her hips again, readying herself for the second thrust. She certainly was enjoying it. Her face was of pure pleasure as he heard her whisper his name as she lowered her hips onto Harry's manhood for the second time.

She placed her hands on his shoulders, working herself into a slow rhythm by using her thighs to slide her hips up and down his shaft. She leaned her chest forward into his face, silently telling Harry to tease her nipples again with his mouth. Harry didn't need any encouragement; he was already opening his mouth, intending to suckle on her breasts when he noticed her starting to lean against him. Harry had to smile, she wanted it so badly, and he was going to give her everything. He placed his hands around her back and leaned back, slowly pulling her body with him, bringing him closer to arouse those round, pink nipples. Professor McGonagall could hear the soft suckling sounds Harry was making as he tongued her nipples, taking great pleasure in all the attention she was getting from this handsome young man. Her breathing was becoming a little strained, sucking in gasps of air as she moved her hips up and down, faster and faster, and soon enough, her feminine juices started to flow, trickling down his shaft and in between his thighs. Her body was completely taking over. She wouldn't be able to stop, or slow down even if she tried, as the tingling sensation spread around her body, pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

Hermione was feeling warm all over, watching her best friend thrust his hips up into the professor, faintly aware of the rhythmic creaking sound of the sofa, it was really making her wet. And there and then she had unconsciously crossed that line. She was done being embarrassed or shy, her body craved attention and she was going to satisfy her urges. She took off her damp knickers and dropped them on the floor, becoming slightly more excited at her own daringness as she sat back down on the sofa with nothing on from the waist below. She leaned back, spreading her legs apart as much as she could and started to rub her fingers in circles around her hardened snub, watching the professor move her hips up and down, up and down, imagining the pleasure coursing through both their bodies. The sensible, rule-abiding Headgirl was no more. She literally had lost control of her body, she was purely acting on her ever growing excitement and after a while, the Headgirl was leaning further back into the sofa, lifting her legs a little higher to spread her moist lips apart, sliding her fingers in and out as far as they could go. Her fingers were glistening with her juices, and once she found the sensitive spot inside her femininity, she gradually worked herself towards another intense orgasm.

"Oh yes . . . . . yes . . . . mmm . . . . Oh Harry . . . . ." Professor McGonagall was letting out soft moans with every thrust, almost whimpering as she tried to hold on, hold on just a bit longer to savor every moment as she made love to the man of her fantasies. But it was too much, the intensity of being with him was so much more, it had been so long since she had been intimate with another man, and Harry's groans, his little whispers, the way their hips moved together, it was causing her body to quickly bubble, feeling her orgasm fast approaching. She didn't want to come so soon, but the way he was pushing himself deeper inside her, the way her body reacted as they both quickened the pace, she couldn't help it, and before she could even take one last look into his eyes as they made love, she lost her grip. With one final thrust, her body exploded with ecstasy, her hands gripping his shirt as wave, after wave, after wave, of pleasure coursed through her entire body, moaning his name, releasing all that pent up sexual frustration she had kept within her for so long.

So many times she had fantasized about making love to Harry, in bed alone at night, in her office in between classes, even during class when the students were taking a theory test. She used to look over to where Harry was seated; he'd be frowning down at his parchment, tapping his quill lightly on the desk as he tried to answer his questions. So many times she marveled at how handsome he had become, how kind and sweet he was despite all that he'd been through. And she loved it when she caught him looking at her, sometimes his eyes would be on her chest, other times they were traveling down her hips, her legs, and it made her feel so sexy, so wanted, and she couldn't help but become aroused. Whenever she gave them a test, she would sit at the front behind her desk and carefully pull up her robes, making sure none of the students were looking, and part her legs so that she could slide her hand down between her thighs. Looking over at the young man with black hair, she would imagine those green, emerald eyes raking her naked body with pure lust. She wouldn't go far though; she would shift her knickers to one side and gently tease her lips, feeling them grow moist as she bit her lower lip, trying hard to not let a moan escape her mouth. And then when the test was over, she'd wipe her hand on her robes under the desk and try her best to put on a stern face, return to her brisk manner as she told them all to hand in their parchments.

Professor McGonagall wrapped her arms around Harry's neck, hugging him as her orgasm slowly washed away. Her hips were still shaking, jerking a few more times as the feeling slowly drained out of her, taking away all the sexual frustration with it. This was what her body craved for. For weeks, she had tried to gather the courage to allure him, arouse him and make love to him, and she finally did it, she finally had him in her arms, his manhood still inside her as her body shuddered with pleasure until all was quiet in Professor McGonagall's private quarters, except for the heavy breathing of the three occupants. As her body finally started to relax, she waited for her breathing to calm, and still embracing Harry and stroking his hair, she murmured words of appreciation into his ears, telling him how wonderful it was. She finally pulled back to look down at his face, only to see him look up at her with a frustrated, pleading look in his eyes. Professor McGonagall was momentarily alarmed, not sure what to make of it, it certainly sounded like he was enjoying it as much as she was, and then he whispered,

"Professor . . . . . Please . . . . just a little more . . . . ." And the professor knew what was wrong, she was too caught up with her own, that she didn't realize that Harry still hadn't reached his. In fact, she could still feel his throbbing manhood inside her, waiting to be satisfied. She smiled down at him and quietly said,

"Anything for you, my dear . . . ." And she began to move her hips up and down again, stimulating him, making sure to push herself down as far as she could, as Harry closed his eyes and started groaning, pulling her to him as he again, started matching every one of her thrusts. His breathing becoming deeper; he buried his face in her chest as he ground his hips in and out of her, faster and faster until he was just barely holding on. He managed to look up seconds before he reached his end, asking her with his eyes. She knew what he was asking.

"It's OK, Harry . . . you can let go . . . . . go on, my dear . . . . ." She smiled down at him as he closed his eyes and exploded inside her, releasing himself, shoving his hips upwards and letting all those fantasies race through his mind, day after day, night after night, as he dreamt about making love to her. A feeling of utter bliss flowed through his body.

After the shivers resided, his muscles started to relax, his heart rate slowing down as he gradually, slowly, recovered from his orgasm. He couldn't move. His body was spent and all he wanted to do was sit there, and just hold her in his arms for a little while, wait for his body to come back down from wherever. His arms still wrapped around her, his head still against her chest, he tried to calm his breathing down, basking in the faint odour of her femininity, her perfume and sweat, almost drifting to sleep from the blissful feeling and exhaustion. The professor was still hugging him, stroking his hair, coddling him, cooing softly in his ear and giving all the comfort only a woman can give. It was heavenly. He would die a happy man.

All the while, Hermione was on the other side of the couch, watching as her professor and her best friend made love and scream in pleasure, embracing each other as they came. It was enough to make her feel light headed as she continued to slide her wet fingers in and out of her, feeling that now familiar sensation blossoming from within her, pushing her, pulling her in every which way. After the professor's orgasm had passed, she watched as Harry looked up and murmured something to the professor and in turn she nodded, said something back and again, started rocking her hips back and forth. It was then that she realized that Harry was also approaching his boiling point, his climax, and so she quickened her fingers in time to watch the powerful wizard that was her friend, release himself inside the professor, groaning as his body tremored with utter pleasure. She could feel the electricity in the air crackling with energy, her hair on the back of her neck prickling as she watched a few, emerald green sparks appear out of nowhere around the two of them. That was it for her. Her heavy breathing came to a halt as her body arched back, her muscles in her thighs tightened, moaning and moaning, rubbing herself frantically as her hips started to practically convulse. Her body, her mind, was blown a way as a small gush of her feminine juices trickled out from within her, covering her fingers and making her brown curls glisten in the candle light. Scene after scene from bits of her fantasies raced through her mind, seeing flashes of those emerald green eyes, seeing those tender hands of an older women reach out and touch her. She was still panting long after she climaxed, finally pulling her fingers out of her and flopping back on the sofa, her body limp, a certain shine coating over her hips and her thighs. It was the most intense experience of Hermione Granger's life.

Harry and Professor McGonagall watched on with wide eyes as Hermione orgasmed, watched as she trembled, see her fingers desperately trying to push her further over the edge. The area around her thighs on the sofa was dark, probably wet from her juices, the red material showing just how much her body was responding to the all consuming explosion from within her femininity. Harry, this time, was truly awed. A women's orgasm seemed so much more intense, it needed to be reached with care and patience, but when they go over the edge, they go over screaming. And that was what he saw. Hermione was probably close to passing out right now, her eyes were closed; her legs were clamped together, her hands protectively covering her femininity. She was curled up on her side again like before, looking as vulnerable as ever, and Harry couldn't help it; he needed to comfort his best friend, he wanted to comfort his best friend. He looked up to the professor who was still straddling him, and she seemed to know what he was wanting to do. She smiled down at him.

"Go on, my dear . . . . . . . ." She slowly lifted herself up, sliding Harry's manhood out from within her, and stood up from the sofa. Harry lifted himself up enough to pull up his trousers, and then crawled over and sat beside her, slowly stroking her face. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked up into those beautiful green eyes. Her mind was still a little clouded, still experiencing that feeling of euphoria floating around her body, as if she had not a care in the world as she looked up into those green eyes. But soon enough, her mind cleared and she quickly registered where she was, and her face turned a deep crimson, dying with embarrassment as she recalled the last few minutes. She was faintly aware that Harry and Professor McGonagall would have been able to see her if they just turned their heads, but with no control over her body or mind, she didn't care to stop and maybe ask them to look away or something. She buried her head in her arms and murmured something about wanting to crawl in a hole. Harry wasn't far off either. He too had soon realized what they had just done with their Transfiguration Professor, and all the shock that was forgotten before came crashing back to him as he acknowledged what he had just done with his teacher, or was done by his teacher. Professor McGonagall sensed their embarrassment, she could fully understand that unsettling feeling as she too was feeling a little shy now that it was over.

"Err . . . . . Mr. Potter . . . . . Miss Granger . . . um . . . why don't I give you a few minutes to get dressed . . . ? I'll just be in my office . . . ." And she picked up her belt from off the floor, and with one last tentative little smile at them over her shoulder; she walked into her office and quietly closed the door behind her.

After watching the professor leave, Harry turned back to face Hermione, who was looking back up at him with a slight blush across her pretty face. A few seconds past, until Harry broke the silence with a whisper.

"So . . ." He seemed to be waiting for her to say something.

"So . . ." She couldn't think of anything else. Harry looked at the floor for a second, and then looked back up at his best friend.

"What now . . .?" She briefly saw the shy little eleven year old boy sitting on the Hogwarts Express. Hermione gently placed a hand on Harry's arm, giving him a reassuring smile.

"I don't know . . . . . But whatever happens . . . . well . . . . . happens. We'll work things out . . . ." Harry was comforted by the fact that she was just as unsure of the future, and that she was willing to get through this together, by his side, just like always. That reassuring smile soon faded away, as she mumbled,

"I . . . I should probably . . . um . . . . . . . get dressed . . . ." She trailed off to a whisper as she looked down at her fingers, and Harry quickly remembered that Hermione was not wearing anything from the waste below. He jumped up from the couch and turned away quickly, his body stiff as a board as he became increasingly nervous, completely at a loss to what to say. It was one of those moments when you just didn't know where to put your hands, so he just resorted to scratching his head while Hermione got dressed. He heard her whisper something several times and half turned his head towards her.

"Did you say something . . . . ?" Harry happened to look towards a glass cabinet next to the wall and caught a glimpse of her reflection. Hermione was with her back to the cabinet, standing half naked, holding her knickers, and seemingly pointing her wand at various places on the sofa. He quickly looked away, he wasn't going to disrespect her, and so stared resolutely at the TV, where it was just showing static. The movie had finished, thank god, but he couldn't help but frown at Hermione's hasty reply.

"No . . . no . . . I didn't say anything . . ." She continued to whisper several words, but Harry hadn't the faintest clue as to what she was doing.

"Err . . . . . are you sure . . ? I mean . . . . . Is everything OK . . . . . ?" He almost looked at the reflection again, curious to why she was acting so strangely.

A few moments before………

"I . . . I should probably . . . um . . . . . . . get dressed . . . ." Hermione tried her best to cover herself with her hands as Harry jumped up from the couch, and after double-checking that he was facing away and wasn't going to turn around, she got up from the sofa and quickly picked up her knickers. Her eyes widened as she looked down at the sofa, she had suffered from enough embarrassment for one day. She quickly buttoned her shirt up and fished for her wand in her shirt pocket, and then with a quick glance at Harry who, for some reason, was still scratching his head, started casting scourgify spells on the sofa, cleaning those damp patches. She was able to quietly cast the spell three or four times until Harry noticed her whispering, saw him turning his head just a little as he asked if she just said anything. Giving him a hasty reply, she tried her best to continue casting the spell under her breath, but was once again questioned by Harry. She ignored him this time until she was satisfied that the sofa was back to the way it was, and then quickly got dressed, noticing for the first time that there was a TV in the corner. She faintly remembered some music playing in the back ground but she hadn't a clue as to what it was playing. She'd ask Harry later.

"It's OK, Harry . . . . You can turn around now. . . ." Harry took a moment to compose himself, putting on a brave face as he turned around; giving her a smile that was hopefully telling her that he wasn't that uncomfortable with the whole situation they found themselves in. It was partly true, he was still feeling a little embarrassed, but once he got over the shock, and everything that they had done slowly sank in, he knew he wasn't sorry that it had happened, he was actually glad that he was able to experience this, above all experiences, with his best friend. Hermione gave him a small smile, relieved that he also seemed to have no regrets about all of this. Harry opened his mouth and was about to ask her what she was whispering a few moments ago, but she didn't feel like telling him, it was too embarrassing for her to deal with right now, so she quickly beat him to it.

"Anyway, we best go now . . . . the professor will be waiting . . . ." She glanced at the door to the office and was wondering, wondering what it was going to be like between the three of them after tonight. Harry decided to let the question go, from the look on her face, she didn't want to talk about it, and besides, he thought, as he glanced at the door, he was feeling a little apprehensive about what they were going to say when they opened that door and step into her office. He was definitely not looking forward to it.

They both looked at each other, and with a resigned sort of way, accepted that they couldn't avoid the inevitable. They slowly walked towards the door to Professor McGonagall's office. Harry was the unfortunate one to reach the door first, and with one last glance at Hermione, he slowly pushed it open, scrunching his eyes a little at the bright light illuminating her office. He stepped inside and saw that the professor was standing by the window; she was looking out at the Hogwarts grounds, still wearing those blue robes. She seemed to have fixed her disheveled hair, and was once again, looking as attractive as ever. She turned around and saw them come in, she gave them a warm smile, and seeing the familiar affection in those friendly blue eyes, he and Hermione felt a little lighter on their feet, feeling that just maybe, things weren't going to be so bad after all.

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Epilogue - Just ask her

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Maybe if he reached out and held her hand, then it would be easier to ask her.

He looked over to her, her eyes seemed brighter, as if a new flame had ignited within her, and at the same time, looking very content with the world right now. Hermione noticed Harry's eyes on her and she gave him a small smile, and as if reading his mind, she reached over and slipped her hand into his, intertwining their fingers, swinging them back and forth gently as they walked back to the Headboy and Headgirl's common room. Hermione glanced back at Harry,

"Are you OK Harry? You seem a little quiet . . . . ." They were just outside their common room now, waiting for the portrait to slide open so that they could climb. If he didn't ask her now, he never will, he thought. Harry quickly gathered his Gryffindor courage, took a deep breath and turned to her.

"Err . . . . I was just . . . . . um . . . . I was just . . . . . . no . . . it's nothing, just a little tired is all. Even the boy who lived has his limit's right?" He added with a nervous laugh. So much for the Gryffindor courage. Hermione gave him a smile, slightly relieved that whatever was on his mind, there was still no regret in his eyes. That relief didn't last though, as an awkward silence soon followed.

"Um . . . Harry . . . ? Things aren't . . . . . . going to be . . awkward . . . . . between us are they?" She was nervously pulling at her skirt, she really hoped things wouldn't change between them; actually she did, but not in a bad way. She really hoped she could be the one to hold his hand on next week's Hogsmeade trip. Harry quickly looked back up at her.

"No! No . . . . . don't worry, nothings going to change, I was just . . . I was just wondering . . . . ." Harry quickly looked away, slowly thinking that maybe it would be easier to ask her when he wasn't looking into her eyes. Why was this so hard? I know why . . . he thought . . . because it's Hermione . . . . . Hermione saw his nervousness and she started wondering, started getting hopeful, maybe he was going to ask her to go to Hogsmeade next week? Or maybe . . . . her mind traveled to the large bed in her dormitory . . . . no . . . she scolded herself, she wouldn't want to rush into things, she wanted things to develop naturally between them, despite what happened tonight. She patiently waited for him to finish his sentence, and finally, after a few strained moments, she saw the determination in those green eyes she grew to admire over the years. Alright, here goes . . . Harry thought, he tapped into his last resource of Gryffindor courage and took a deep breath and looked up to her face.

"Do- you-get-turned-on-when-you-see-two-guys-kissing?" Harry let the words tumble out of his mouth, and quickly wished he hadn't asked, hoping against hope that she didn't quite catch the words. He was wrong. Being best friends for 7 years, you could understand anything they said, whether it was a mumble, or a cough, they always knew the jist of it, no matter how quickly they said it.

Hermione heard the question. She had caught every word of it, and was looking back at Harry with a frown, a questioning look . . . . . no . . . . Harry thought, she was looking back at him as if he were the biggest moron in the world. A few more tense seconds passed between them, before she rolled her eyes, and gave out a sigh.

"Goodnight Harry." You big moron. She added silently, holding back a smile as she turned around and walked towards her dormitory across the common room.

"He . . . hey, wait . . . . . I . . . I didn't mean to . . . ." He reached out, taking a few tentative steps towards her retreating back, but she didn't seem like she was going to listen to him anymore. When she closed the door behind her, he slumped his shoulders and sighed.

"Bugger . . . . ." he looked back up at the door to her room.

"Nice going, Harry . . . ." He whispered to himself, and slowly walked towards his own dormitory, already thinking of ways to apologize to her in the morning. He collapsed on his bed and looked up at the ceiling, mentally kicking himself for asking that damn question. Maybe he should have asked the other question first. No . . . he should never have asked that stupid question at all. He sighed in defeat. Oh well . . . . , maybe after things calm down between them, he'll say what he wanted to say, what he should have said, and ask her if she wanted to go to Hogsmeade with him next week.

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THE END

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It wasn't the best ending, but this was my first fic. For those who enjoy a Harry/Hermione story, and want to actually see some Harry/Hermione, I will, eventually, continue to "The next morning", or maybe start a post-Hogwarts story between the two. Expect a more sexual Hermione.

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Be sure to check in tomorrow, have started the beginnings of a Harry/Tonks story and a Harry/Fleur story, see which one you'd like me continue with.