This is my first time writing Harry Potter fanfiction, so please go easy on me. The story's set somewhere in the 5th book. As you may be able to deduce, it doesn't really matter when. Please review!
There were signs.
The sudden broadness of his shoulders, the largeness of his hands, the male smell that surrounded him, and the bobbing of his Adam's apple when her skirt rode up.
Hermione Granger couldn't help but notice that Harry Potter was changing, especially now when she was pressed against his hard chest, sobbing into his button-down shirt.
It was about Ron, as it seemed to always be about now. He had cavorted with that cow Lavender in front of her, and Harry had been there to see the hurt that lay in her caramel eyes. She had run from the common room, desperate for solace and clinging to the remnants of her pride. Harry had followed her, like he always did. He had wrapped his arms around her and murmured insults about Ron's emotional immaturity.
And Hermione had taken notice, this time, of his absolute devotion and care. She had caught wind of the way his eyes hurt too while watching her cry, and the way his hand gently stroked her back. She had taken notice of the smell of evergreen that seemed to hover around Harry, and how his voice rumbled deep within his chest.
So there she was, buried in his arms, when that sense of longing filled her bones and brought a flush to her tear-stained cheeks. The hand on her back became so distractingly clear that she lost track of what Harry was saying. She could feel his muscles beneath her check, and those cursed teenage hormones had begun to flood her body.
"…The emotional range of a teaspoon. Hermione, are you alright?" Harry asked, concerned by the sudden stiffening of her against him. He feared he had said the wrong thing, and furiously began to backpedal.
Hermione looked up at him, her face lit by moonlight.
Harry stopped talking when he saw an unknown look deep within her brown eyes. Her lips were slightly parted and moist, moonbeams slowly filtering across the soft planes of her face. He was suddenly hyperaware of where her body was pressed against him, and he willed himself not to become aroused.
"Harry," Hermione whispered, despite no one else being in the room. She raised her face up to his, and looked deep within those emerald eyes. Her lips moved slowly towards his, and she brought a hand to rest upon his neck. She closed the gap, and planted an innocent, but fully charged kiss, upon his lips.
"Hermione," the tone was shocked and slightly out-of breathe. "We can't. It would ruin everything. What about Ron? We could never look at each other without-"
And then she interrupted him with that one word. "Please," she breathed against him and into the empty room.
It was with that please that Harry's fragile resolved crumbled, and his lips reached forward to find hers. The kiss was soft, as one in moonlight should be, but firm and full of need. She tasted like apples (which didn't surprise him given her studiousness) but also of warm caramel, which took him off-guard.
And then there were her fingers, which wound themselves in his raven hair and pulled ever so lightly. Hermione was overwhelming, and as the kiss began to deepen, she pressed herself against the hard planes of his body and moaned into his mouth.
Harry pulled away, raggedly breathing, and looked at the panting girl before him. Her pupils were dilated, her hair in absolute disarray, and her lips kiss-stung and plump. He had never seen such an erotic sight.
Hermione took the momentary lapse in kissing to move her lips down to Harry's neck, as her fingers began to unbutton his oxford shirt. Harry groaned against her ministrations, and that groan sent chills straight to her stomach. She had finally reached her goal of getting Harry out of his shirt, only to find t-shirt in place of his naked chest.
"Another shirt?" She questioned breathlessly, and Harry laughed in a very un-16-year-old boy way. He tugged his shirt over his head and resumed kissing her, only to draw away as he pulled her shirt off to join his on the floor.
Hermione's hands began tugging at his belt, and Harry found himself amused by her impatience. Her mouth disconnected with his, and slowly made it's way down to his chest as she began to rid him of his pants.
His breathing hitched, and he twisted his hands through that hair that somehow would find itself on his shirts or in his books. Harry suddenly felt very naked. He was in his boxers, and Hermione was almost fully clothed. He guided her head back up to his and gave her a searing kiss, before tugging her skirt down.
Harry withdrew, and observed the vision before him. Hermione sat before him shrouded in moonlight, thoroughly kissed and breathing heavily. He ran his fingers down her stomach, thrilled at the way she arched against him. He felt for the clasp of her bra and unhooked it, marveling at how perfect she had become.
Hermione lay down before him, and Harry slowly laid himself down on top of her. They resumed kissing, sweet and slow, as his thumb gently brushed against a swollen nipple that brought forth a delicious gasp from her. His hands ran lower and followed the curve of her hip. He slowly hooked his fingers in the waistband of her panties, and pulled them off her, leaving her naked in the moonlight.
His fingers sought her centre out, and slowly skimmed the inside of her thighs. He ran his fingers down her slit, rewarded with a throaty moan and a rush of wetness. He slipped a finger inside of her, and pulled away from the kiss to observe her response. Hermione's eyes went half-lidded and she writhed against him. He slipped another finger in, and slowly hooked them while pumping them in and out of her. Soon she was quaking against his hands, and then she reached out a hand towards him.
"Please Harry," she moaned, aching with longing and desire. "I need you inside of me."
Instead of obliging her, Harry brought his mouth down and gave her one long lick, which sent Hermione toppling over the edge. He body arched into him and she gave a long keen. Her fingers grabbed his hair and brought his lips up to hers for a searing kiss.
Harry slipped out of his boxers and looked into her eyes, seeking approval, which she granted without hesitation. He grabbed his wand, and quickly cast a contraceptive spell, before focusing on Hermione.
Harry gripped his weeping erection and slowly inched his way inside of her. He could see the pain present in her eyes, and remained completely still once he was fully sheathed. It was only when Hermione began to push her hips against his that he began to slowly push back. And suddenly she was everywhere. Her lips, hair, and fingers all desperately encouraging him to continue.
Hermione gave a cry as Harry thrust hard, and then she suddenly gripped down tight on him. He followed her over the edge, stars bursting beneath his eyelids.
When Harry opened his eyes Hermione lay beneath him, bringing her fingertips to skim across his lips. He rolled off of her and drew her to him, as she rested her head on his chest and slowly ran her fingers down the muscles of his stomach. He looked at her in the moonlit darkness, and allowed him slowly to slip into the confines of sleep.
I usually write Pushing Daisies fanfiction, so it's nice to be able to have characters that can actually touch (although I wouldn't trade Ned or Chuck for anything). Thanks for reading my story! Please review so that I can write more of these.