Hey, there, everybody!

I've been getting lovely reviews, but I'd like to clear some doubts.

Some readers(including you, Anonymous reviewer) want to know if Harry's going to 'uncloak' Hermione. He will, but the story ends with that, so be prepared for that. I'm going to be writing only a couple more chapters.

Hope you all enjoy this chapter!

Harry was distracted. As if it wasn't enough that he had a stranger's knickers, blouse and tie bunched up inside his cloak, he had to be seated right next to Hermione, the object of his desires(fine, one of the objects of his desires).

He hadn't had a chance to run back to the dorm and rid himself of the knickers he's confiscated in a sudden rush of male dominance.

But, Merlin, every time he thought about their-he didn't know what else to call it-angry sex, he got simultaneously hard and mad.

But he had to push those thoughts away, and be nice to Hermione. And pretend that she didn't make him hard either.

Hermione was furious. And incredibly horny.

God, she had loved laughing at Harry's face in Divination. But she hadn't realised she'd pushed him so far. He had gone completely crazy-mode on her, calling her nasty words, taking her forcefully in a broom closet, and then-the hot sexy gall of him-denied her an orgasm.

And now here he was, squeezed onto a library couch next to her, making polite conversation, calm as a unicorn.

Suddenly bored, Hermione said, "Pass me my Charms book, would you, Harry?"

He made to set down his reference book and quill.

Hermione quickly shushed him, "Never mind, your hands are full."

Saying so, she struggled out of her snug fit on the couch, and rested a bare knee on Harry's thigh. Then she leaned across him to the table, grabbed the book.

Harry had to hold back a gasp, as Hermione's ample cleavage was thrust in his face. She stayed that way for a moment, her breasts brushing his chin, and Harry tried not to let his mouth fall open.

He felt his pants tighten as she moved back, and her breasts brushed firmly, softly, over his chest. He shifted uncomfortably, wondering if she would notice very much if he adjusted his pants.

Hermione could see a bulge in his pants out of the corner of her eye. Or maybe she was imagining it.

Only one way to find out, she thought slyly.

She refilled her ink bottle from his, pouring some ink into hers. As she moved it back to her side of the table, she very deliberately tipped it over his thighs.

She gave a faux-gasp of horror. "Oh, my- I am so sorry, Harry, I don't know what I was thinking. Here, let me-"

And before Harry could protest, she grabbed her hanky and started dabbing at his pants.

Harry bit back moans as Hermione's fingers prodded his crotch as her handkerchief wiped inner thighs clean of ink. His face flamed in mortification as he realised that Hermione could feel his hard-on. He was even harder, with her 'poking around', and was visibly tenting his pants.

"Hermione- Hermione! I can do that myself!" he protested, in a loud whisper, and grabbed the piece of cotton out of her grip.

She didn't argue, but sat back, not meeting his eyes.

Harry wiped his pants thoroughly, then contemplated the cotton hanky, stained almost black with blue ink.

Both of them turned wordlessly back to their homework, and Harry thought wryly, This is a new way to give a guy blue balls.

Harry walked down the corridor, trying not to look like he was running. Though he was-running away from the library. Well, Hermione really.

He had tried to will away his erection, but with Hermione sitting there, her fingers stained with ink, the memory of where those fingers had been seconds ago-made him rock hard that even thinking of a Transfigured McGonagall choking up hairballs wouldn't cure.

And that was why he now needed a cold shower. A freezing one, to get the details exact. And he hoped he didn't meet anyone on the way, because he practically had a staff poking out of his pants right then.

He didn't think he could walk into the common room in this state. The nearest bath was the Prefect's bathroom. Yeah, he'd take a shower there.

He entered the Prefect's bathroom. He knew the password, because he was the Quidditch captain. He looked at the clean pool, and the stalls at the end of the room. He wondered if they even had cold water.

Now that he was alone, the idea of a leisurely wank seemed better than a freezing shower.

Giving in to the desires he'd never really been fighting, he undressed, and slipped into the pool. Remembering the last time he's been here, he cast a few spells to keep out Moaning Myrtle, then played around with the taps, until the bath was filled with foam, scented bubbles and perfumed water. He sighed, floating in the water, revelling as the warmth relaxed his tense muscles.

The door opened, and Harry jumped, but was a tad too slow to hide himself under the bubbles. He heard the door slam shut again, but had seen no one enter.

He called out, "Hello?"

Hermione had followed him to the Prefect's bathroom, and had been debating whether to enter or not. Maybe he was still mad at her for the Ouija board. But there had been only one way to find out. So she'd cast the Disillusionment charm, and had entered. Harry had dipped to neck level in the water, but not before she had caught sight of his wet, shiny erection, pointing at the ceiling as he floated on his back.

Her mouth had watered at once, which is why it took her a couple of moments to answer him.

"It's me, Harry. And you look- wow," she said.

Harry relaxed in the water, she noted with relief. Maybe he wasn't as mad at her as she thought.

"Where are you?" he demanded.

She undid her necktie, and let it fall to the floor. It became visible again, and he stared at it. He watched as a trail of clothes appeared- her blouse, he bra, her school skirt, her knickers, all dropped by the side of the pool.

She stopped at the edge of the pool, then sat down so her legs dangled in the water. He realised what she was doing- she was testing how the charm did in the water.

It did fine. Because he watching carefully, he could see the light bend around her legs. But if he hadn't known she was there, well, he wouldn't have known she was there.

Apparently satisfied, she jumped in with a splash, and he spluttered at a faceful of warm water. She giggled, and he retorted, "Oh, no, you don't."

He reached out and grabbed where he thought her ankle would be. She ducked, trying to swim away, but he caught her foot.

It was all he needed. He gripped tightly, and pulled her toward him. She was close enough that she ended up ramming into him, and his feet slipped on the bath's slippery floor. She let out a laugh as he lost his footing, and sank to the floor. She supported him so that his face didn't go under, holding him.

They played this way for a while, Hermione slipping out his slippery grip and attempting to swim away, Harry grabbing at her and then losing her again. The bathroom was full of laughs and splashes and growls.

"Enough of this!" Harry cried. He was holding her calf, and he held on with one hand, his other tracing the length of her thigh, upwards.

There was a sudden silence, and Hermione was concentrating on the feel of his fingers.

"How would you like it?" murmured Harry.

"I liked it when you-you dominated me in the closet."

"Hard and rough, then?" he whispered, as his hand joined the other on her thigh. He clasped her thighs in his grip, his thumbs rubbing firmly over her sex.

She moaned, and bucked against his fingers.

"You deserve to come, because I didn't let you last time."

She moaned in agreement, as his thumb slid into her channel, his other fingers massaging her folds, and parting them. He had never put his thumb inside her before, and somehow, it felt different. And heavenly.

She tightened her arm around his neck, feeling her knees go weak, unable to hold her up. Her other hand was kneading his buttock, in time with his thumb's movements inside her.

He was moving her to the edge of the pool, with his thumb still inside her. His thumb gently brushed against her insides, and her eyes rolled back in her head. The texture of his callused thumb, the warm water, and his fingers fluttering over her clit, were all too much. She came hard, clutching at his thumb inside her, and screamed his name. His mouth found hers, and he swallowed up all her cries, massaging her folds as they quivered in ecstasy.

Her back felt cool air as he heaved her up to sit on one of the steps leading into the pool. They were both level, except she was sitting on the steps, and he was standing next to the steps in the bath.

She hadn't even begun to recover from her orgasm, when he thrust sharply into her. She was still sensitive from the thumbfucking, but this doubled her pleasure.

Harry groaned, as he felt himself fill every inch of her. As always, she was tight, holding him in a vice-like grip. Her hand was kneading his butt, and her legs came around to clasp around his hip.

And he fucked her against the tiled steps, her butt slipping and sliding as her back hit the step above her.

Hermione could vaguely feel some pain, and she was worried she would bruise later, but this felt so wonderful. He thrust into her, hard and fast, and his hands dragged her forward to meet him on every thrust. She helped him, and their momentum built. They grunted and groaned as they met each other. Every time Harry pulled out of her velvet heat, it was like torture. But when he slammed into her again, it felt like coming home.

He thrust deeper and deeper, and suddenly Hermione arched.

"That's it, Harry! Right there!" she screamed.

Harry realised he'd hit the famous 'spot' everybody aimed for. He thrust harder, and he could feel her writhe in his arms. Her nails dug into his back, and she screamed as she came a second time, the hardest she had ever come.

Her orgasm lasted the longest Harry could remember, and he didn't even try to resist his. He came hard and quick, shooting spurts of come into her. Her pulsing walls squeezed every bit of come out of him, and then some.

They both leaned against each other, and Harry put an arm on the edge of the pool to support himself. Their breath coming in harsh pants, Hermione said, "That was wicked."

Harry nodded, collapsing in the step below her. "Absolutely."

He felt sticky, but he thought it might just be the perfumed soapwater. After a minute to catch their breath, he turned his face to kiss her arm, just at his eyelevel.

"Up for a shower?" he asked.

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