Harry practices his awareness and has dinner with Hermione.
The week seemed to fly by. Classes bled together, and Harry's waking moments always seemed to split his attention equally between whatever was happening around him and Gabrielle. Even classes he loved and found thoroughly engaging only grabbed part of his attention, as his mind seemed constantly counting the hours until he could return to what he and Gabrielle had started calling 'their' bedroom, to feel her soft skin, and warm gaze, and the feeling of being buried inside her. His time with her was blissful and cathartic. Every irritation he built up during the day was extinguished inside Gabrielle fucking with abandon, and in the morning they would greet the day with slow passionate love making. After that, Harry felt he could rise to any challenge he might face.
With his new found source of attention, Harry slowly felt a new awareness build gradually throughout the week. Little flashes of emotions Harry knew weren't his own occasionally flowed over him, and unlike when he experienced flashes of Voldemort's current mood, the flashes that Harry knew had to be coming from Gabrielle smoothed over him, and made him feel warm and tingly.
By the end of the week, Harry was able to sense her if he concentrated. During lunch on Friday she hadn't shown like the days before and when Harry thought of her he had a vague intuition that she was in their room and studying. It was not something he could put into words, but her mood had a focused drowsy feel to it, that Harry often equated with memorization.
As this ability increased he shared his new-found insights with Hermione, who had taken to studying in the room of requirement, in the set up they now referred to as 'their' room. The irony of the situation between him and Hermione and him and Gabrielle was not lost on Harry, as was his new awareness of Hermione. He thought she was beautiful ever since fourth year, but a combination of what Harry felt was sisterly affection and Ron's apparent claim to her, at least as far as Harry was concerned had buried what ever it was he was feeling towards his long time friend. He wryly though of the other witch he had supposedly had only 'sisterly' affections for.
Harry tried to compare the various girls that caught his interest in an attempt to figure out where Hermione fell on his spectrum of emotions, simplistic as it was. For his part, most people fell into either: friend, enemy, acquaintance, faceless student, and love? Perhaps not love, but easily attraction and desire. For a time Cho had been the only girl to grab Harry's attention that way, with the exception of Fleur, though she had been like a beautiful painting. He could admire her beauty, but she seemed so unapproachable and aloof that it was almost sacrilege to consider her as a real possibility.
Ginny had been realized with shocking speed, and with their history together it was scarily easy to imagine them together romantically. She had an ease of talking that Harry responded to enthusiastically, and they shared many of the same interests and passions, and she was just so deliciously Gryffindor.
Gabrielle… Gabrielle was in a category by herself. She was simply her, her that brought Harry so much comfort and passion. Harry found it exceedingly easy to love Gabrielle. On some level he knew there was an artificiality to their love, but it went both directions, and she's always so dauntingly pleased about the whole thing. At the same time Harry still wanted to build a real friendship and relationship with her. He wanted to KNOW her, as a person, not just as a lover. The idea that the two could be mutually exclusive was quite the revelation.
Hermione was a puzzle. He didn't long for her the way he longed for Ginny, and he wasn't swept up in passion when he was with her the way he was with Gabrielle. He didn't even get the nervous butterflies that had seemed to bloom within him at Cho's presence.
Harry rubbed his eyes in frustration. He needed to think this through, to figure out what he wanted, and this was just not his normal way of dealing with things. He was used to practical application and instinct.
Hermione was… his best friend. He shared everything with her (now). She knew all his secrets and he knew hers. She was pretty and Harry knew he was attracted to her, but was that enough? Is that love? Or was love an all consuming passion like it was with Gabrielle, or a painful longing like Ginny. Cho he decided was just attractive. Harry supposed he had a type and she fit it somehow, but as a person they just weren't similar enough, or opposites enough to make anything work.
"What's my type?" he asked aloud under his breath while practicing an expanding charm for Flitwick. There is something hot about Quidditch. He admitted readily that the first time he noticed Cho was on the pitch. He supposed that Ginny's talent at Quidditch might be one of the reasons he liked her, though that seemed a rather shallow observation when picturing Ginny. Their shared experiences, and true friendship that had seemed to appear suddenly last summer seemed far more important.
The girl in question had already finished perfecting the expanding charm and seemed to have noticed Harry's thoughtful silence.
"Knut for your thoughts?"
Harry paused, he was no where near ready to admit his growing feelings of affection towards his friend and replied with only, "just trying to figure something out."
"Something personal?" she asked, leaving no doubt to what she meant by 'personal'.
Harry blush at his apparent transparency, "yeah."
"Twirl your wand more on the downward motion Harry. I thought we were telling each other everything now?"
"You keep saying that, but so far it's just been me talking." Harry performed the charm perfectly.
"5 points to Gryffindor!" squeaked the diminutive Professor.
"I told you about Krum."
"That argument is getting old."
Hermione was thoughtful for a moment, "you're right. Look, I have an idea that might even things out a bit," she said with a smirk, "do you think Gabrielle would mind terribly if we just had dinner together? The two of us?"
It was one of those moments where Harry's mind froze, unable to figure out if she meant what his over-active imagination was thinking, or if he was just reading too much into things, they spent a lot of time together by themselves already.
"Sure," he finally said, "how about I set up the food this time?"
"Of course. That being said, what have you been thinking about so intently the whole class?"
Harry chuckled and bided his time with, "wow hermione, you really just don't let things go," but made sure the amusement was carried in his voice to make sure Hermione knew he was serious. After a pause thinking about what he was going to say and how he was going to say it, decided to admit a half truth and pose it with a question, to distract Hermione just in case she saw through his lie of omission. "Hermione, would you say I have a 'type'?"
"Oh!" she said surprised, "I suppose you must, most people do."
She was silent a long moment, thinking, "genuineness, selflessness, passion, intelligence, a sense of humor, preferably tall dark and handsome, and honesty." She blushed, "I also happen to like tall guys."
"Wow, that list is so much better than mine."
"What's on yours?"
"So far? Quidditch."
Hermione stifled a laugh. "I suppose that applies to both Ginny and Cho, is that why you thought of it?"
"I think that you're mistaking Quidditch for body type."
"Well, I mean it's all well and good that they both play Quidditch, but I'd say it boils down to an attraction to petite athletic girls. They're both shorter than you, they're both slim and strong," after a pause she continued, "far closer to current Muggle opinion on beauty. Purebloods tend to go for more… matronly women," she finished kindly. "I mean," she giggled very un-Hermione-ishly, "look at Pansy, she's all curves and no muscle. She's probably never lifted anything weighing more than hairbrush, probably lets her elves do everything."
"Anything else?" asked Harry smiling now.
"Anything else what?"
"Anything else jump out at you as my supposed 'type'?"
"Oh Harry. You really should be figuring this out yourself."
"Come on, why would I think for myself when I have you to do it for me?"
Hermione blushed which transformed into a calculating smile, "well, I'd say another favorable comparison between Cho, Ginny, AND Gabrielle is…" she trailed off, baiting Harry.
"Is?" he said intrigued, playing along.
Cho is quite smart, nearly the top of her class and in Ravenclaw. Ginny is also quite intelligent, and powerful magically, and Gabrielle SKIPED AHEAD in classes for merlin's sake."
"So you think my type is fit and smart, how…droll."
"Well, seeing as you had to have me tell you that, yes I think you clearly are interested in witches that can explain things to you, even about yourself, and well… keep up with you physically."
Harry swallowed wrong and coughed violently, then the period ended.
Hermione left briskly affording Harry a quick, "see you at dinner", leaving Harry to wonder what he had gotten himself into.
Harry and Ron sat huddled against the interior wall of the fort. The sounds of impacts against their quickly crumbling exterior wall rapid and with out pauses.
"Where's Neville?" asked Ron harshly. "He's been gone at least two minutes, he was just supposed to figure out where to aim these!" he waved his hand towards the rapidly increasing arsenal that he and Harry had been working on for the last five minutes.
"It's fine, I don't think they've been stockpiling like we have. One good moment and we can bury them," said Harry concentrating on his work.
Just then Neville flew in from the side diving hard into the ground, "all three are huddled together just pelting at me and the fort. Nearly got me too. From what I saw their fort is really top heavy, and they've only got one wall."
"Good," said Harry. "Help me."
Peering cautiously through a small hole in the wall of the fort they levitated their arsenal low against the ground to avoid it being spotted. When they were close enough all three flicked their wands upwards as hard as they could, smashing their large collection of snowballs against the enemy fort, breaking off its top half burying Seamus, Dean, and Ginny in snow.
Harry, Ron, and Neville made their way laughing over to the now demolished snow fort helping to dig everyone out. When she had spat the snow in her mouth out Ginny exclaimed, "Dean! I told you it was top heavy!"
"Yeah, yeah," said Dean brushing snow off his cloak.
"You!" she rounded on the three smirking victors, "we are so having a rematch this weekend," and with an indignant huff Ginny sped away Dean following at her heels.
Harry was about to make some comment about Dean following her around like an obedient puppy when Lavender ran into Ron crashing him to the ground. After a moment of spirited snogging she pulled away to gush about Ron's skill with a snowball.
After Ron extracated himself, Neville waved goodbye and sped off to the greenhouses to check on a project he was assisting Sprout with. Harry and Ron, with Lavender hanging off his arm, made their way through the snow up to the castle, Harry warming the ground in front of them to melt the snow, which was nearly 3 feet deep and still collecting more.
When they entered the castle Ron and Lavender started to head towards the Great Hall for dinner, but Harry started going up the stairs to meet Hermione. He waved and said 'bye' but didn't notice Ron had stopped walking until Ron called out to him, "Harry, don't you want dinner?"
Harry stopped and turned, "I was going to study somewhere quiet and eat dinner there."
Ron narrowed his eyes searchingly, "Lav, go on, I'll catch up with you."
Noticing the serious expression on her boyfriend's face Lavender kissed Ron and the cheek and left them alone.
"You're meeting up with Hermione aren't you?" He said it calmly, but his eyes were still narrowed and his lips thinned.
'Not Good' thought Harry, "What makes you say that?" replied Harry in what he thought was an even voice.
Ron's lips turned slightly into a frown, "Either you're both at dinner or neither of you are."
'Damn, when did Ron get observant?' "Yeah, you know we like to study together."
"Is that all?"
Harry thought a partial truth was necessary here. He hated lying to Ron, but this was definitely one of those instances where Ron would blow the situation far out of proportion. 'Or…' thought Harry wryly, 'Is he right on the money?' "That's not all. To be honest she still doesn't like seeing you and Lavender together, and as you have a new girlfriend to keep entertained I thought I would give you some space and, well, comfort Hermione." Nothing about that was particularly false, though Harry felt that perhaps he was exaggerating Hermione's feelings on seeing Ron and Lavender together. She was still put out by it, but she had mentioned it less and less, and with less obvious sadness since Harry had gone to her to talk about bonding with Gabrielle last week. 'Merlin, has it really only been a week…?'
Ron looked down in thought for a time until he nodded solemnly taking Harry at his word. It made Harry feel slightly slimy, but he thought for the moment it was for the best. Parting, Harry made his way up to the Room of Requirement, asking it for his and Hermione's room. He was fond of the cozy arrangement, with just two chairs and fire and a table, it was intimate and quiet. Harry felt it reminded him of the way the castle felt and sounded at night, and he was sure it reminded Hermione of the quiet solitude of the library, but with out the overbearing presence of Madam Pince.
Once in the room Harry called out, "Dobby!" and the elf appeared in front of Harry with a loud crack.
"How may Dobby serve Harry Potter sir, most wonderful wizard in the world!" he exclaimed jumping up and down with glee at the chance to serve Harry.
Harry sighed at his exuberance, but remembered Hermione's strategy of calming the elf.
"Dobby, I've heard the going rate for hiring you to serve a meal is a sickle."
"For Missus Granger it is sir, but for the Great Harry Potter Dobby will take no more than 1/4 of a knut!"
'Damn, should have started higher', Harry held his chin as if in thought, "8 knuts."
"Oh come one!"
"Fine, one knut!"
"6 and a half," said Harry smirking.
"3, final offer!"
Harry sighed, "fine."
Dobby's outfit changed in an eye blink, he was suddenly in a diminutive tuxedo with long tails dragging heavily on the ground.
"What will you's be having this evening?"
"Surprise me, and a bottle of wine."
The only reaction Dobby had to Harry's order was his eyes going wide and extra bulbous. He cracked away just as Hermione opened the door.
She sat primly in the chair and a bottle of chilled wine appeared next to the table halfway buried in ice within a silver bowl.
"Wine Harry?" she asked, a single eyebrow arching, "I thought you had learned your lesson."
"Yeah well, both you and Gabrielle like it, so it's probably something I should get used to, he replied with a roguish grin.
Hermione served the wine and they sipped and chatted. It didn't take Hermione long to get to the point.
"So, I've been thinking about how these little… chats… can be a bit more balanced."
"And?" Harry asked inquiringly.
She began to answer but Dobby appeared again to serve their appetizer. When he popped away Hermione said, "Quesadillas?" with amusement.
"Dobby asked what we wanted, so I said 'surprise me'."
"Oh no…" said Hermione with an ashen face.
"Don't worry, I'm sure it will be fine."
"Harry, our appetizer is chilled white wine with a… chicken quesadilla."
Harry laughed, "just think of it as an adventure."
Hermione smiled warmly, "it's always an adventure with you Harry."
Harry blushed and smiled shyly. He was still embarrassed by such genuine praise, though Gabrielle had been trying to break him out of it by lavishing him with praise and loving words at every opportunity. Occasionally he would even get a little tickle in the back of his mind, thinking it rather felt like Gabrielle was trying to 'touch' him mentally despite being apart from one another.
"So," said Harry getting them back on track while taking a large swallow of wine and grabbing a wedge of the cheesy mexican dish, "what's this idea you have of balancing things?"
Hermione looked started and appeared to have forgotten the reason for their having dinner together in light of the unusual food choice, "Right, well… that is…" she huffed, seemingly angry at herself for her own timidness, "I was thinking… that in exchange for sharing your experiences with Gabrielle, I could… tell you my… my fantasies," she finished in a shy voice, determinedly not looking in Harry's eyes.
"Oh, um…" Harry replied lamely.
"And," she cut him off and blushed hard, "if you're amenable, we could… enact them."
Harry's mind locked.
For a long, long time.
Long enough for Hermione to start squirming at Harry's non-response.
She sighed sadly, "I'm sorry for asking that of you," she stood up, "maybe we should have dinner-"
Something roared within Harry to do something, "Wait!" he blurted out and Hermione's eyes snapped to his. She held his gaze for a long moment again waiting for Harry to say something. When he didn't she arched that same eyebrow and sat gently back in her chair a expectant look on her face.
"Sorry, look, just… give me a minute, I'm shocked is all. Never thought I'd be having this conversation with you."
She seemed to shrink slightly and the gravity of the 'thing' she had suggested fell into place and he blurted the first thing he could think of to try and explain his hesitation with out insulting her, "We're best friends! I mean, you and Ron never even went on a proper date and you're already not speaking together, imagine how much worse it would be if you and he had… had…" he couldn't say it, "I can't lose you Hermione. I just can't. And what about Ron!? He asked me why we were having dinner alone today and I told him we were studying. Don't you feel like you're betraying him, even slightly, at the very least for the fact that both you and I know neither one of use would tell him what we're doing?"
Hermione looked somewhat hopeful, "Harry… I couldn't help but notice that nowhere in that speech was there an outright 'no'."
Harry glared at Hermione, she continued quickly, "and as for your concerns, I just don't think we could ruin our friendship Harry. You're much more even tempered than Ron, and definitely more in control of your emotions, well except for last year, and… and… and TO HELL WITH RON!"
Harry jumped, "you don't mean that."
"I do!" she said hotly, "Ron will always be my friend, and I will admit I've been very torn up, but bugger the bastard, he has no say over what you and I do. He's with Lavender, they're together end of story, he can shove any objections he has straight up his-"
She calmed, but had more to say, "Harry, I've been thinking about sex since third year, and all that time I fantasized about three people. Ron for the most part, Victor, and you."
"You had fan-" Harry started.
"Yes," she cut him off quickly, "I've known since fifth year that I wanted to lose my virginity to Ron, but frankly I'm tired of waiting. I'm horny as hell and I'm tired of getting myself off. I'm sixteen, I want to start learning what I like and don't like and I trust you, and few others. I was willing to wait for Ron while he was blithering over his shyness towards me, and as long as he wasn't with someone else it just seemed like a matter of time until he plucked up his courage and asked me. And when he didn't! I ASKED HIM! AND WHAT DOES HE DO! GOES AND SNOGS THAT BINT A FEW DAYS LATER!"
Harry got up and grabbed Hermione by the upper arms, her anger fading immediately. "Hermione, I agree, Ron's being a git at the moment, but is this really something you want to consider? Have you completely given up on Ron?"
She responded slowly, "I haven't given up on Ron… but I'm not going to wait for him anymore either. Does that make sense?"
Fearing for the future of his relationship towards his two best friends, and dreading the possibility of having to choose between them someday, Harry never the less replied with, "yeah, it makes a lot of sense actually. Still don't think we should tell Ron though."
"Does that mean there will be something NOT to tell him?" she asked hopefully.
Harry sat back down and Hermione followed him refilling each of their glasses. Before Harry could respond, the main course appeared. Hermione shrieked and Harry spilled a bit of his wine on his robes. It was an entire roast pig, complete with an apple tucked in its mouth.
"Good lord," she said faintly.
"Yeah, definitely a bit more direction next time. Dobby!"
The elf appeared again, "everything to your liking sir and madam?"
"Um… how are we supposed to eat this?"
Dobby smacked himself on the forehead, but caught himself and slid easily back into his role. He bowed deeply, "my apologies," he snapped his fingers and disappeared. The pig shimmered and suddenly with a series of cracks was replaced by a large array of serving plates with bacon, pork chops, spare ribs, ground pork sliders, ham steaks, and two enormous racks of baby back ribs.
Harry laughed and Hermione shook her head in disbelief, "this is utterly ridiculous, how can two people eat a whole pig?"
Shrugging, Harry dug in, drinking from his glass of wine which had changed into a dark red with out Harry's notice. "So. Are you looking for a quick shag for afters, or do you have something planned?" asked Harry already knowing the answer.
Hermione spluttered and dropped the rib she had bit picking at, "Hmph, you think you're so funny," she finally said seeing the half smile gracing Harry's face. "Of course I have something planned. Well, not so much a plan as… a list."
"A list?" Harry asked his smile broader.
"Yes," she stared at Harry, he could see the gears turning behind her eyes. "What made you go from shocked disbelief to acceptance so quickly."
"Well, I have to admit my biggest concern is Ron, but you're right. He's made his choice at least for the moment. You are, as he himself would describe, a 'free agent'. Also, I know for a fact Gabrielle would approve, she's been pushing me towards this since we bonded. Not you necessarily, more in general."
"And our friendship?"
"If you think that out friendship can survive this if it goes terribly terribly wrong, then I trust you."
"Thank you Harry," she said beaming.
"That being said, can you explain why?"
"Of course. I've actually been debating this for the past few day, ever since you, me, and Gabrielle had dinner together."
"What?" Hermione asked?
"Well, another reason I said yes is, that since you mentioned visiting nude beaches it's been hard to get the image out of my mind," he replied sheepishly.
"You randy git!"
"Sorry! What can I say, you're sexy and it's fun thinking about you nothing but sand and sun."
Hermione looked surprised, "you think I'm… sexy?"
"Not, pretty or beautiful, or even attractive, but sexy?" she asked almost in disbelief.
"But, b-but I'm a mousy haired bookwork. I mean, I know I've got a figure, and my breasts are rather large, but I don't wear makeup, I'm not toned like Ginny and Cho are, I'm not even all curved and rounded like Lavender or Pansy. Krum called me pretty. My legs are too short, and my arse is flat, and it took nearly an entire bottle of styler to get my hair to do anything else!"
"Well, you're wrong, you are sexy."
"Why?" To Harry she sounded genuinely interested, not at all the way Lavender sounded when fishing for compliments from Ron.
Harry looked Hermione up and down slowly and was a bit flattered when she blushed at his scrutiny, "your hair is a mane," he said smiling, for the first time putting into words the unsaid things he thought about his best friend. "a wild, untamed mane. I look at it and I picture it splayed out on a pillow, wild and tangled even more than it normally is." Harry didn't know where his new found courage to say these things came from, but he suspected it was Gabrielle, if not her direct influence, than certainly her attempts to get Harry more used to speaking this way. Either way, Harry was glad for it, more and more so as Hermione's flattered blush got brighter and brighter. "your skin is tan and smooth, you have a pretty face, and the darkest chocolate brown eyes I've seen."
"Harry…" she said warily.
"You think your legs are short, and they are, but they also look strong, must be all the books you haul around. Seven staircases and a fifty pound book-bag can be quite the workout," finished Harry chuckling.
"It's not fifty pounds," she said defensively.
"I also think you have a rather nice arse," added Harry cheekily.
"You don't have to lie-"
"I'm not. I wouldn't say what I said if I didn't mean it."
"Yes, I know. I think you're a little biased though."
"No I'm not. I have it on good authority that there are many guys at Hogwarts who are only interested in your body."
"Sorry," Harry held his hands out in deference, "true though. Though, most people saw you and Ron dancing around each other, and well, yes you are a bookworm, and that does tend to put off guys who aren't as enlightened as I, smart can be intimidating to some guys," said Harry aloofly.
Hermione giggled, he was still thrown when she did that. It just seemed so unlike her.
"Wait," something she had said came back to Harry, "what did you mean your breasts are rather large, I mean they're not small, but they look the same as ever.
Hermione squeaked, "Oh damn! I forgot."
Harry looked on in confusion.
"I've been glamouring them."
"Because last summer they, just got bigger…" she said depressed.
"Why do you sound so sad about that? I mean, isn't it a good thing?"
"I suppose most girls would think so," she said dejectedly. "I was perfectly happy with them the way they were. Besides, I've seen the way people stare at Lavender and Susan and Pansy and that Greengrass girl, I didn't want that kind of attention, and I definitely didn't want to suddenly be asked out by Ron when he saw them. I was worried it might be the only reason, and until just recently I didn't want to attract anyone's attention besides Ron's anyways. Probably should have though, in retrospect."
Harry was trying not to stare, even knowing it wouldn't do any good as she was still presumably glamoured, "how much bigger?"
She sighed heavily, "I went up two cup sizes in two months, I've even got stretch marks near my arm pits to prove it," she said sadly.
"Well, I mean, so, what would that be then?"
"Do you know what the cup sizes are?"
"Well, um, I would guess Gabrielle is a C, and Ginny's a B. Mine were a C… now they're a double D… (sigh) my back hurts more often now too."
"Um, not to sound insensitive or anything but… Cool!"
Hermione snorted, "oh yes, the fringe benefit to scars, a lifetime of back problems, and men assuming my IQ is inversely proportional to my bust size."
"Hermione, you were always going to have trouble finding someone worthy of you, giant tits or no."
She smiled, her eyes twinkling in the firelight, "that's very sweet of you Harry."
"So, you said you have a list?" Harry was quite excited to find out what the aforementioned list contained.
"Yes, but first I think we should make sure we're on the same page as far as expectations go, thats part of my reasoning on why our friendship will be safe. If we know exactly what the expectations are for the other we'll be fine."
"The way I see it, is we love and trust each other as friends, and this would just be another expression of that friendship. We already know each other every way conceivable except this."
"Also, you've got Gabrielle, and we both have people we want to be with but can't, that way neither one of us will be upset if one or the other decides to stop because we enter into a proper romance."
"I also think you're a good choice for me, because you're with Gabrielle. You have experience so I know you know what you're doing, also I'm sure Gabrielle can give you pointers," she said cheekily.
"Brilliant, so we're going to be shag-buddies then?"
Hermione laughed, "blunt, but… yes basically."
"So, this list."
"Now… don't take this the wrong way Harry, but I don't want to show you the list."
"Well," she started, a little shy again after falling out of lecture mode, "it's… extensive."
"Well, I've done a lot of reading on the subject-"
"You mean sex?" Harry asked deadpan trying to tease her a bit.
Hermione glared and then smirked, "I've done a lot of reading about… sex… and I'm generally willing to try anything once. I've spent so much time thinking about who I want to have sex with, and almost no time on what I want to do when I'm there. How can I know what I'll enjoy until I've tried it?"
"I suppose I could say the same thing. Gabrielle knows exactly what she wants and I'm more than happy to oblige her. She keeps asking what my fantasies are, but honestly, every fantasy I've ever had just involves being in bed with a gorgeous witch," he looked pointedly at Hermione, "I consider this a valuable learning opportunity."
"Hmmmm, way to push my buttons Potter."
"Look, it's long and frankly, some of it is rather embarrassing at the moment. I'm worried what you'll think of me-"
"You know I couldn't-"
"I know Harry," she said placatingly. "All the same, I want to ease into this. We can do the first thing tonight, and at the end I'll tell you whats next on the list to decide if we're both willing and if we feel any preparations are necessary."
Harry gave her a sidelong look, "preparations, how complicated is this going to get?"
Hermione smiled demurely, "no spoilers Harry."
"Alright then, what's the first thing?"
Harry let out a relieved breath, "oh, ok."
"You're not disappointed?"
"No, no, relieved actually."
"Yeah, it's one thing to say it, another entirely to, well, do it. I agree wholeheartedly on taking this very, very slowly."
Dobby appeared with dessert, and both Hermione and Harry let out a high yelp in surprise.
They looked at each other nervously, laughed, looked away, looked back, blushed, and reached for their desserts, Harry a delightful treacle tart (Dobby needed to stop making this his default treat or he'd soon grow tired of it) and Hermione a thick custard with bits of crushed berries.
Hermione made a show of licking the custard off her lips and moaned lightly at the taste, or so Harry thought. Either way, "bollocks this." He stood up stepped over, got down on his knees and kissed Hermione.
He was kissing Hermione.
A girl he had known since he was 11. His best friend.
He was kissing her.
Her lips were rougher than Gabrielle's. Hermione had a habit of biting her lip when frustrated, or thinking, or studying, or when she was embarrassed or scared, or when she was afraid she might have said the wrong thing, or when she was apologizing, or…Ok, she did it a lot anyways. Harry could feel the unevenness of the skin of her lips, and it made his own lips tingle in a delightful way. She seemed realer somehow. Gabrielle looked like a dream, etherial and supernaturally perfect, whereas Hermione was just a girl. A girl he was realizing he was very attracted to, but a girl, an imperfect perfect girl and his best friend.
Harry put his hands lightly on her waist, and Hermione threaded her fingers through his hair. His scalp tingled where she touched it, and his hands felt hot, overly hot, the roaring fire seemed to have risen in temperature suddenly.
Their kiss deepened, and almost simultaneously their tongues made their way out their mouths to press and slide together briefly before retreating and both returning to the heady feel of their lips pressed together, pulling and sucking, licking out occasionally. Harry bit and tugged at Hermione's bottom lip and she groaned deliciously.
Harry's heart was pounding in his chest, and felt himself becoming hard in slow pulsing increments in time with his heart beat.
Hermione licked into his mouth, and he obliged immediately, stroking her tongue back, following while she teased it fondling the interior of his mouth with her sensitive dextrous organ: the roof of his mouth, his teeth, his tongue, and finally just behind his upper lip before retreating again back into her own mouth.
Harry followed it and plundered her mouth as she had done his. He pulled her closer to her and their hips met. She gasped and froze briefly before clutching him tighter to her by way of her arms around his neck, grinding into his manhood gently before wrenching herself away and holding him at arms length.
Breathless and flushed she said, "well, um…you're quite good at that Harry."
"Better than krum?" he asked equally breathless.
She swatted him, "honestly!"
"Just a joke,"
"I know." She took a long pause, "you're not regretting this right?"
"Of course not, that kiss was brilliant!"
She blushed, "I agree."
"So I'm sensing we're done."
"I should think so. We're going to go slow remember?"
Harry rubbed his eyes, "yeah, yeah, doesn't change the fact you're leaving me in a right state."
Hermione laughed once, it reminded Harry of how Sirius used to laugh. It was an uncharacteristically warm memory of the man, seemingly untainted by his untimely end. "Luckily you have a ready and willing Veela to… ease your tension."
"Oh well now I'm truly flattered Harry, to think I made you forget all about your little… what had you called her? Pet?"
Harry flushed crimson, "she likes being called that."
Hermione laughed uproariously, "I'm sure she does… does she call you master?"
Harry made his way to Gabrielle and his bed by way of his dorm room. Knowing he had been lax about going to sleep as normal as far as his dorm mates were concerned, he was going to make a concerted effort not to just give into temptation and walk straight to the actual door, even though it was closer.
Oddly enough, even though his path led him farther away from Gabrielle physically, her presence in his mind was slowly growing stronger. Once in his four poster, his mind was fully locked on her, and he knew she was already in bed and quite randy. 'The bond must be strengthening, or I'm becoming more aware'.
When he appeared Gabrielle leapt on top of him, fully naked, pussy slick with arousal, hair messy; she looked thoroughly shagged.
"What happened to you?"
"I should ask ze same zhing. Ou did you fuck?"
"I didn't fuck anyone."
"'Arry, I felt your pleasure zhrough ze bond. I came so 'ard."
"Gabrielle, I swear, I didn't fuck anyone. I did however, snog Hermione," he said with a broad satisfied grin.
Gabrielle squealed, "zhat pleasure was from but a kiss?! 'Arry, you must fuck zhis girl. Tell me you are going to."
"I'm pretty sure we are. We're taking it slow though, and we've decided to be shag-buddies."
"'Ow fun. Shall I be joining ze two of you?"
Harry was quite flabbergasted he had not thought of it before, "I suppose that's up to you and Hermione, I certainly would have no complaints."
"I'm sure you would not," she said lightly a grin forming slowly, "'Arry, you are all 'ard, let me pleasure you."
"No, I'm in the mood to take care of my witch tonight. Hermione left me all hot and bothered, and I intend to take it all out on you. Lay back."
She rolled off Harry and laid on her back excitedly, legs slightly apart, arms languidly above her head, elbows bent, hands in her hair, eye's closed.
Kneeling at her feet, Harry ran his hands smoothly up her legs, slowly leaning closer to her as his hands rose. He stopped suddenly, it felt like something was crawling up his leg. He scratched and went back to using his hands to map her legs by touch, loving the way her smooth soft legs felt under his fingers. He stopped again, that same tickle back. He scratched confusedly and when he looked back at Gabrielle she had her eyes open inquisitively.
Harry shrugged, "just an itch."
She closed her eyes again serenely, and Harry began to run his hands over her hips and across her belly, fingers splayed. The itch was back, but on his stomach this time. 'wait, what?'
"Uhh…" said Harry dumbly and poked Gabrielle in the belly. She opened her eyes and said 'hey' sweetly, with just a touch of playful annoyance, but Harry wasn't listening, instead just poking Gabrielle lightly and feeling the poke on his own skin. "I can feel that," he said distractedly.
"Of course you can, you are poking me," she giggled, shaking her head confusedly at Harry's actions.
"No, I mean, I'm poking you, but I'm…also poking myself somehow?"
"Oh!" she said excitedly. "Ze bond must be strengthening." She smiled widely, her eyes bright, "I am sure, zhis will feel, a bit weird." She took Harry by the hand. "Now, concentrate on me, and only me. In fact, close your eyes."
Harry obliged and felt her grip on him pulling his hand lower to her center. Harry smirked, knowing where she was about to place his hand, but squeaked in surprise when they met their destination.
He felt it.
Like a jolt of lightning, the pleasure roiled through him, but it was foreign, and different somehow. Let sharp, softer and in a way more powerful.
"What the bloody hell was that?" He asked her.
"Zhat was me. My pleasure."
"Woah," Harry ran his hands up her arms and felt it, but there was still something obviously 'not him', though the feeling was stronger and no longer tickling or itching. She shivered at his touch, and Harry shivered along side her. "That was weird," he said softly in awe of the odd sensation. Intellectually it felt the same as his own spine tingling shivers, but it felt more…feminine? "Have you been feeling what I feel this whole time?"
"Eet took a few days to grow to full strength for moi, but eet 'as been zhis way for me for a while."
"No wonder you're so good at… um…"
She laughed kindly, "Oui, zhat is part of it, but I am also well informed from Fleur to ze ways of pleasing. I must say zhough, I was rather… overcome by ze feelings I get from you. Your climaxes are quite intense."
Harry blushed and looked away, "I feel very naked."
"Alas, for me you are still in your robes," she smirked.
"You know what I mean."
"Oui, but now eet will be boze' of us. I am quite excited to see your reaction to my pleasure," she said with with heavy lidded bedroom eyes, drawing Harry in, making him lose himself for a moment. He could almost feel the emotions boiling off of her, there was something warm and tingly, another bit calm and sensual, part of it was blazing hot, and the last slightly possessive.
"I think, I'm… feeling what you're feeling, but it's, complicated."
Gabrielle laughed, loud and bright, "Oui, I am feeling many zhings. Do you know what I feel from you?"
"What?" asked Harry quietly, almost afraid to ask.
"I- I can't…"
"You don't 'ave to say eet, silly boy," she leaned foreword and placed a hand on his cheek. A rush of warmth flowed from their point of contact, his face flushed and he felt the tingles in her fingertips and the rush of warmth that flowed through her. She felt wet. He felt wet. Lord that's odd.
"You nevair 'ave to say eet. I feel eet every time you look at me. Like a strong and pure note," she smiled and her eyes crinkled, their shine intensifying, "your 'eart sings to me."
Harry held her face in trembling hands. He could feel everything, and it seemed to trigger his own responses. Her nipples tightened in anticipation, and he felt it, like a phantom sensation, overlaying his own feeling of his chest heaving and heart pounding.
Her heard was pounding in time.
Harry couldn't move. He was awash in the sensation of her. He closed his eyes to revel it in. His own senses seemed to dim slightly, and he felt the way her face was hot under his hands, she felt cradled in his long thin fingers. He was strong and big, protecting her, cherishing her, soon to be pleasuring her. She was almost vibrating in excitement and anticipation, her nipples felt hard to the point of aching, her sex moist and throbbing. She felt slightly cold, the sweat of excitement cooling in the castle air. She was only breathing into her throat, shallow and quick, she tried not to blink but couldn't help it. Her bottom lip trembled, but she didn't think Harry could notice; but she did, so he noticed as well.
"Amazing," said Harry in a whisper.
"Zhat is nozhing."
Gabrielle took the hand that was against Harry's face and brought it to the back of his head, fisting in his messy wonderful hair, and brought their lips together in a light gentle kiss.
They both inhaled sharply through their noses, not wanting to break the kiss that deepened immediately. They crushed themselves to each other, grabbing at their backs, Gabrielle ripping clothes off of him in her frenzy, Harry petting and fondling everything he could find, a bum cheek, a breast, her waist, her back, her arms, her hands her little rounded belly. He flew over her testing out each new feeling, wondering at the way he felt both his reaction to touching her and her reaction to being touched, and somehow both feelings felt heightened at combining with the other's."
Their bodies were hot and sweaty when Harry threw himself off her to rid himself of clothes.
"Wait!" Gabrielle said sharply and breathlessly.
"Why!?" Harry nearly yelled.
"Zhat… z-zhat was more. More intense zhan I 'ave felt before."
"I zhink because we are both feeling each other now, eet iz rebounding back and forth. Like an echo of an echo of an echo… I'm scared."
"Scared enough to stop?"
They grabbed at each other again, desperately. Gabrielle was so soft, so supple, she seemed to mold to him. Her breasts pressed harshly to his chest. Her legs wrapped deliciously around his waist and her heels dug harshly into the top of his bum. Harry was a wall. A warm, lusciously hard wall; and with his arms wrapped around her coiled tightly like steel cord she felt totally consumed by his touch, possessed, claimed like he was trying to merge them. His cock hard and throbbing against her belly, pressing into her sending a thrill through her at the contact. She ground herself to him, and he groaned at the silky torturous contact of her skin against his straining organ and she groaned in time with him.
They kissed frantically, open mouthed, tongues warring with each other, little plaintive throaty sounds in time with their snogging.
Gabrielle reached down and grabbed his member, they both groaned at the contact.
"So hard," said Harry.
"So soft," said Gabrielle.
She aimed true and Harry buried himself in her with one fluid stroke, and they were one.
They couldn't speak save odd unintelligible noises that sounded like the beginnings of words as they rocked together, Gabrielle pulling at him with her legs and feet, Harry rolling his hips back and forth. They were so hard, so impossibly hard, they felt stretched around him, a little pain but overwhelmed by the pleasurable fullness. They felt drenched in her fluids, pouring from their contact. Gabrielle raked her hands up and down Harry's back and through his hair and they shivered and swelled at the juxtaposed sensation.
Harry leaned out of their embrace and sat on his calves. He towered over her and they locked gazes. He pumped faster now into her, making her breasts shake wonderfully. They reveled in the sensation of him in her and her in him as their attention was focused now, on the place where they were joined, no longer tempered by the kissing and frantic touching.
They gazed at each other.
"Beautiful," they both said.
Harry leaned a bit closer and began to thrust a bit faster and a lot harder. He would swiftly slide into her, making their flesh slap together, and making her breasts do wonderful things, then draw out slowly. This rhythm left him controlled, no where near his own climax, but Gabrielle built towards her's quickly.
Like an oncoming storm or perhaps a tidal wave, it seemed to build in the distance, Harry's deliberate pace making it build smoothly and evenly.
She made a rumbling noise deep in her chest that gradually became a crackling whine. Her orgasm built and built, and Harry wondered at the way her need crept higher, surprised it could keep rising as high as it was.
Harry sped up, panting, eyes closed in concentration and revelry; no longer in his disjointed rhythm, he now sawed back and forth into her, at a smooth steady pace.
Something swelled within her, her body tensing more and more. She scrabbled at the sheets with her hands and feet so Harry pressed his hands to either side of her waist pinning her to the bed, thrusting harder now. To Gabrielle he felt relentless, and it was perfect.
A fire seemed to burn inside her, light all over, then collecting towards her center and intensifying. The swelling thing in her grew taught and swollen, and she wept fluid from her sex.
Like the crest of a wave her orgasm burst through them, in an explosion of surf and spray, their eyes squeezed tight and saw rapid bursts of color. Her sex and her anus contracting harshly with jolts of overwhelming pleasure. Smaller and smaller waves crested through them, Gabrielle shook and twitched beyond her control, and Harry kept a tight hold on her, his thrusting pace intact as her orgasm settled back into a rolling sea of wet giving sensation.
To Harry's immense pleasure and surprise, while he had felt every vivid wonderful sensation of Gabrielle's climax, it had not triggered his own. With a triumphant cry paired with a now brisk pace, Harry pounded into her, loud wet slaps echoing around the room, Gabrielle's cries loud and needful. With a growl Harry said, "more."
Harry's rapid pace and physical claiming of her had Gabrielle gasping with pleasure, his hot throbbing cock, impossibly hard and invasive, a foreign object stretching and massaging her sensitive inner flesh with abandon, she quickly built towards a stunningly strong climax.
With a bruising thrust Harry stilled and ground his hips against her in a circle, his pelvis rubbing against her clit, the hard flesh of his cock running over her hidden spot at the apex of every twist; all this just as she was about to tip over into her orgasm. She opened her eyes and glared at Harry robbing her of her finish. Her glare was replaced with a feeling of intimidation at her own sensations as her orgasm continued to rise to the breaking point at an excruciatingly slow pace.
Harry took one hand and held her just above her pussy, and with a now free hand brought it to his mouth, sucked and lathed it with spit, and brought it down to her clit circling it slowly.
Her orgasm seemed to come from two places. Harry's hand at her clit sparking an explosion centered on the tiny sensitive nub, the other as waves trickling down her body like a waterfall, full body and paralyzing, her clit a sharp spike through so much roiling sensation. Both could feel the sudden increase of wetness, as it poured from her like a stream, trickling between the cheeks of her bum, and soaking the bed beneath them.
Harry slowed again, settling back into a languid pace.
"Wow," said Harry thickly.
"Oui, étonnant," she replied breathlessly, her legs were still twitching slightly.
"I had no idea your anus got so involved when you come," said Harry cheekily, a one sided smirk making him look roguish and confident.
Gabrielle blushed slightly but returned his smirk with one of her own, "you would be surprised at 'ow involved your's could be when you come."
"Later 'arry, I could not take it just now."
Harry smiled feeling her slightly overwhelmed mood and flipped them so she rode him, "you set the pace for a while."
Gabrielle smiled brightly and rode him fairly quickly, letting out a small 'enf' noise every time she hit bottom. Her hands were on his chest keeping her upright and she bounced. Harry let his hands wander for a while across her soft moonlight skin, letting her own broadcasting desires direct him. Across a nipple, her belly, up her arms, across her back, two sensual handfuls of bum; her legs, her hips, all soft and stroking, not directing her movements at all.
After a while Harry let his arms go behind his head and rest heavily there. He watched contentedly as she bounced on him, her whole body rippling lightly when she hit his pelvis. Her breasts swinging and jiggling delightfully.
Her smile was huge and infectious. She felt like such a play thing in this position, Harry laying supine before her, letting her work him with her swollen cunt. She growled playfully, biting her lip enticingly, her eyes shinning and sparkling in the moonlight, creased with mirth.
Harry smiled at the burst of insight that seemed to flow through him continuously from Gabrielle and found himself rapidly approaching his own end.
Gabrielle's breathing went rapid with Harry's, then panting in unison Gabrielle brought her body down to Harry and pressed her forehead to his. Their eyes locked, they both rode the rising column of Harry's climax. Sharp and focused he swelled inside her and grabbed her hips. He tried not to direct her, preferring the loss of control over his own orgasm, but gripped tightly in rising sensation.
Gabrielle found her own pleasure triggered by Harry's. They rose together and crashed as one, both pressing full body to one another, screaming at the release of Harry's orgasm piercing through the hot pulsing waves of Gabrielle's. Each enormous pulsing shot of come from Harry, an exquisite pleasure, tossed Gabrielle into the throws of another numbing orgasm. They could do nothing but cling to each other, hips pounding manically together, their entwined climaxes echoing back and forth across their bond, reflecting and forcing their bodies to wrenching spasms of limbs and hips.
And it didn't end.
Their eye's wrenched open and gazed terrified into the other's as the sensations continued far beyond the point they were used to, the echo of the echo of their orgasms triggering new slightly smaller waves of ecstasy that seemed to have no end.
After what seemed a life age they subsided and calmed, and simply held the other, faces buried in the other's neck, bodies still joined at the sex, twitching in after shocks of sensation.
They lay quiet for a time, heads swimming and buzzing, not really sure where they were or who they were for a moment. The only concrete thing either could hold onto was the other person's intimate presence.
"Ce que le nique était-ce?"
"Yeah, what the bloody hell was that?"
"You understood me?" Gabrielle asked dazedly, muffled by Harry's neck.
"Not the words, I just understood you."
Harry slowly shrunk enough to slip from Gabrielle, and she moaned at the loss of contact.
"Sleep I should think," said Harry sleepily.
Their embrace did not change, they simply fell away from the world as one, tucked against the other, entwined.
Just before sleep reached them they spoke in unison, "Mine." "Yours."