As most of you probably know, I am not JK Rowling, do not own any of the Harry Potter characters, and unfortunately do not make the millions per year that she does. Also, if I did, I would totally have an "adult" version with some hot hot sex.
"Harry, can I come over? Please? I really need someone to talk to," whispered the green head of his lifelong friend in his fireplace. He could see the tears trailing down Hermione's face, and he knew something horrible must have happened for her not to be able to talk to her husband, Ron.
"Of course you can! Hermione, you can come over anytime you need to, you remember that." Harry and Hermione had been the best of friends since they were eleven years old, and being in their thirties now, they loved each other in a way that nobody who had never had a friendship last that long could ever possibly understand.
"Oh, thank you, Harry," she sighed with relief. With that, the rest of her body spun into the fire and threw ash all over his living room. Quickly she stepped out, but when she tried a charm to clean up the mess, her wand just fizzled and didn't do anything. At this point, Harry knew something was very wrong. Hermione not being able to do a simple charm? Bad news.
"Um, don't worry about the mess," he said, doing the charm himself. The room was pristine again, and he shrugged it off as if he hadn't noticed she didn't do it herself. "Uh, would you like something to drink first? Tea? Firewhisky? Butterbeer? Water? Coffee?" He wanted to make Hermione as comfortable as he could, and be her shoulder to cry on.
"Oh, um..." Hermione was in the mood for tea, but she needed something that would make her be able to speak more freely. She didn't want to tell Harry about the fight she'd had with Ron, but it was bothering her so much, and she just wanted to spit it out. "I, I guess I'll have a firewhiskey, Harry." Knowing Hermione was not usually the strong booze type, even though he had offered it anyway, he raised his eyebrow at this. Hermione only drank when it was bad.
A few minutes later, he came out with the decanter and two tumblers floating in front of him, and a plate of cookies in one hand. She was sitting on the couch, her lip jutting out. The firewhiskey poured itself and floated into her waiting hand, and she chugged the whole thing right away. Now he knew whatever it was was bad. The decanter poured again, and she drank this one slower. He also drank some, letting the hot liquid scald his throat.
The tears were streaming down her face again, and she wiped them off with her dirty sleeve. "Oh, Harry..." she started, her lip quivering, her eyes overflowing, the tumbler shaking in her hand. "Harry, I had another fight with Ron. This one was so bad... Harry, he... he hit me, Harry. He hit me. I... I told him I'd been promoted, and he slapped me. Said I was rubbing it in that he couldn't get a job. Said... said he knew I was going to take Rose and Hugo, and I was going to pay for ruining his life. He... Harry, he thinks I cheated on him. He's saying all sorts of things. He's drunk all the time now. I don't think he's been sober since Hugo was born, actually. I put a binding charm on him, I bound him to the couch, and... Harry, I... I don't know what to do." She drank another full tumbler and let the glass be filled again. Harry had also finished his glass, without realising, and downed another refill.
"Hermione...I... I don't know what to say. I mean, I knew Ron was having problems with his drinking and all, but I hadn't realised how bad it was really getting. He really hit you? Where? How many times has he hit you now?" Harry's eyes were also starting to water now. He couldn't believe that his best mate would do something like this, especially not to his wife, and Harry's other best friend.
Hermione rolled her sleeves up and showed him the bruises on her arms from when he'd punched her, and she showed him the scratches on her stomach from one night when he had wanted sex and she hadn't. She told him that he had slapped her across the face, but as it was only half an hour ago, it wasn't showing yet.
Harry leaned forward and rubbed more tears away from her soft skin, and brushed her curly hair out of her face. He sat closer to her, so their thighs were touching, and pulled her head into his chest. Softly stroking her hair, he said, "Hermione, as much as I love Ron, and I love you, I can't stand for this. I won't. He may be my best mate, but..well, he might not be now, with how everything's going lately, but... Hermione, I'm here for you. I really am." He drank another full glass of firewhiskey, and the decanter magically refilled it again. Without realising it, the two of them had drank an entire bottle of an extremely strong alcohol.
Hermione put her hand on Harry's chest, feeling his hard chest beneath the wool sweater. He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her little body tight to him, feeling her breasts pressed against him, her leg right beside his. The firewhisky was affecting both of them, and they didn't know it.
"I don't know what to do," she sobbed into his chest. "I don't even know if I love him anymore, Harry. The children can't possibly live with him. It's not safe. I don't want to have anything to do with him, not now. He's a different person than when we got married. I think the war changed him, and not for the better. I think it was a delayed reaction, though. I don't know... but he's not the same Ron that I fell in love with all those years ago." Hermione looked up into Harry's face, and realised for the first time in more than twenty years how handsome he really was. He could feel her warm breathing on his neck, and suddenly he also noticed how beautiful she had become. A few years back she had discovered a charm to keep her hair in perfect soft ringlets, and her buckteeth were gone thanks to Malfoy all those years ago. She had mastered the art of the flawless makeup, and even though her mascara was running all down her face, she still looked gorgeous to him.
"Hermione," he whispered, half to Hermione, and half to himself. "Hermione, I..." He didn't know what he had been about to say, and probably never would, because all of a sudden he found his lips on hers. For a second they both froze, not knowing what was happening, but then her fingers were in his hair, and his in hers, kissing each other with all the ferocity in the world.
Little groans and squeaks were emitted from both of them, probably things like "What are we doing?", "What's going on?", "What if the kids hear?", etc, but they were too far gone to voice their concerns.
As she slipped her tongue into his mouth, tasting the whiskey and the treacle tarts he'd had for desert, she moved into his lap, her legs straddling him on the couch, her pelvis resting on top of his. She explored every part of his mouth with her tongue, dying to know everything about him, everything she had never wanted to know before.
As their tongues danced together, Harry's hands moved down to Hermione's neck, and then to her shoulders, and then to the buttons on her sweater. He fumbled with the first ones, but once he got the hang of it and pulled the sweater off, Hermione's curvy body in her tight blue tanktop was visible to him. He broke the kiss for a second, and slipped his hands under the hem, pulling it up over her arms, showing him the lacy black bra.
As soon as her top was off, Hermione grabbed his face again and kissed him, holding his body tight to hers, pressing herself as close as she could. When she felt the bra unclasp, she wriggled her arms out of it without breaking the kiss, and then broke off to let him see. The drunken grin on Harry's face was huge, and when she grabbed the bottom of his sweater to pull it off, he beat her to it. She crawled off, and stood up in front of him. She started to undo her jeans, and he did the same. He could see her now, in just her sheer white thong, and the pressure building in his groin was really throbbing now.
She ripped the jeans off him, and he stood there in just his boxers, and she could see the erection there. Grinning wickedly, Hermione stepped close to his tall body and pressed herself as close as she could to his chest and stomach. She slipped her fingers under the waistband and slowly pulled them down, letting the fabric tickle his legs as it went down, looking at the reactions on his face as she did so. When she felt him step out of the loose fabric, she rubbed herself on him, feeling that he was ready, but she wasn't going to take him just yet.
She put her hands on his shoulders, and slowly bent down, raking her fingernails on his chest, until she got to his most intimate place. On her knees, she grabbed him in her hand, looking up at his face, watching every single thought cross his mind. She ran one finger down the shaft, and touched the tip. When he shivered, she kissed it, and then ran her tongue the length of it, soft and slow, feeling the hot pressure, happy to know how much she excited him. She hadn't excited Ron in this way in a long time. Bringing her mouth back to the tip, she brought him into her mouth, slowly, softly licking the end, and feeling him shake under her touch.
When she brought nearly the full length of him into her mouth, using her tongue and lips and the heat of her mouth in ways she'd never thought about, suddenly she felt his hands grabbing her shoulders and wrenching her back up to him. Harry fiercely kissed her lips again, and then bent slightly to pull her breast into his mouth, suckling on her nipple, pinching the other with his fingers, gently biting and nipping it. When she turned back towards the couch, pulling him with her, the eager look in his eyes turned her on even more.
She sat down, and then lay on her back, her legs apart, inviting him to come to her.
Harry's mind was racing now, but no intelligent thought lingered. He went to the couch and put his knees around Hermione's waiting body, kissing her lips, her neck, her breasts, her stomach. As he realised that the thong was still there, he violently ripped it off her and kept moving his mouth lower and lower. He reached the dark curly hair and smiled. His heart was going the fastest it ever had, and his breathing was fast and sharp with anticipation. Before he touched the most important part of her beautiful body, he stroked the insides of her thighs with his fingers, making her arch her back slightly.
He touched the pink folds, putting his fingers between, and touched her clitoris with his thumb. Her sharp intake of breath told him he was definitely working her right, and he did it again. Harry slipped his fingers into her wetness and felt the heat on him, and rubbed her clitoris while moving his fingers deep inside her. She moaned, and he slid his fingers out and moved even farther down, putting his mouth back, and licked her clitoris with his warm tongue. He brought the sensitive little ball into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue, and when he pinched it gently with his front teeth, she yelped and moaned again. He kissed her, and then put his tongue into the hole, tasting her, letting her feel what was to come.
He kissed her again, and moved his way up her body again, kissing her whole midrif, and her nipples, and back to her succulent little mouth. She could taste her own self on his lips now, but it was nothing like his.
She wrapped her arms around his back, pulling him tight to her, and she could feel him ready, resting against her, between her legs, waiting to enter. For the first time, she couldn't get enough of Harry Potter. He had always just been her friend, but now it felt like something else. Her lips wanted his, and it seemed he wanted her too. And when she was ready, she knew it.
"Harry..." she reached one hand down and grabbed hold of him, and led him to her, rubbing the head on her clitoris, on her nethermouth, telling him she wanted him now. Rising up a little, he saw the look in her eyes, the almost pleading look, and he started to think about what he was doing. What was he doing? "Harry, just...do it..." When she said the words, all thoughts fled his mind again and he thrust into her, once, twice, three times. The couch shook underneath them, and the two made odd little noises together. They went several more times.
As Hermione's whole body tremored under Harry's, moans pouring out of her, she could feel the orgasm almost upon her. "Harry..." As he rammed hard into her one final time, both of them coming together, the screams filled the house. Their bodies jerking everywhere, guttural animal cries coming out of them, both unable to even remember their own names from the intense pleasure they were in, they screamed each other's names. "Harry...Harry...Harry! Harry fucking Potter!"
Both exhausted, Harry rolled off the couch, onto the floor, with a loud thud that slightly woke him out of his drunk daze. The two were breathing ragged and couldn't concentrate on anything but the orgasm still running through them.
After a few minutes of lying apart, Harry sat up and looked at Hermione's still body. She was staring at the ceiling, her breasts rising and falling evenly now, in between her legs still wet.
"Hermione?" he asked tentatively.
"Hermione...we just screwed on my couch," Harry stated matter-of-factly.
"Well, thank Merlin Ginny was staying at Luna's tonight."
For now remember that this is a oneshot, BUT, if I get enough reviews, and if people really want, I MAY turn it into an actual story... I've got ideas for later on in my head, but I do not want to go to the effort of writing it all down if people don't want it. So, if you do want it continued, review and tell me, and I might!