Pure smut, with just enough plot to make it believable.
Disclaimer: If I were JKR, I certainly wouldn’t be writing things like this.
Pure smut, with just enough plot to make it believable.
Wrapping her arms around Harry’s neck, Hermione pressed her lips to his, invading his mouth with her tongue.
They were in a pantry off the kitchen kissing with a heated passion, as their friends celebrated the first Cannons’ game in nearly a hundred years that wasn’t a complete rout. A recording crystal played back the game for all to see. Ron was convinced that it was his incredible keeping that had been the reason for the near-win. Little did he know the owner, Smedley Wailbourne, former seeker for the Cannons, and the only seeker in history to have been knocked off his broom by the snitch, was making a deal. Wailbourne only kept the team for the huge tax exemptions he got from the ministry, and the kickbacks he received from certain ‘gentlemen of dubious character’, including ‘former’ Death Eaters such as Lucius Malfoy and Oristes Parkinson, and certain organised crime families on the continent, who used the gate to launder money. He knew if the Cannons began to win regularly, he’d attract a great deal of attention…attention he really didn’t want; not to mention, his ‘business partners’ would be rather put out with him. Such irritation frequently ended up with the ‘irritant' being killed and dropped in the middle of the Irish Sea, or if they were vindictive enough, being banished into a lava vent on Mount Aetna…while still alive! As long as they didn’t win too regularly, his ‘business’ was safe.
Unfortunately, Ron was just good enough to break that losing streak.
Just then, he was selling Ron’s contract to the Wimbourne Wasps, the only other team in the league with a record as bad as Chudley. He’d gotten the idea from a sports collective in a city called San Diego in the colonies.
As the party went on, they had their own celebration here. Lips locked and tongues battling for the limited space, they each sought to express their love for the other.
Smirking, he rubbed his thumbs across her nipples, drawing forth a gasp from the woman pressed against him.
His hands roamed across her body, touching, tickling, and pinching passion-enflamed flesh. Their clothing had ‘fallen open’ long before. He rolled her nipples as he plundered her mouth. Her own hands roamed as freely as his, stroking and caressing him as he grew to full tumescence.
Hermione broke the kiss with a whispered: “Harry! We can get caught! Ron’s in the lounge!”
“D’you want me to stop?” He breathed as he nibbled her ear, sending erotic shivers up and down her body. He moved his mouth from her ear to her neck, trailing kisses all the way down, she tilted her head to give him better access. He suckled just enough to let her know she was his, but leave no telltale mark. They’d practiced this many times over the past three years, and both were quite expert at it. One hand slipped under her skirt and gently caressed her slit through the silk of her knickers and she whimpered; “No.” as she clung to him. “Don’t you dare!”
She moaned through teeth clamped on her lower lip, as he pressed his knuckle into her, rubbing up and down, just a bit harder. She caught his mouth with hers then, and kissed him hard. The kiss was as electric as first. Hermione probed and teased him, massaged and stroked his tongue with her own. Harry welcomed her invasion, only battling after she’d won.
Hermione and Ron had married three years before, when Molly had caught them together. Ron had slipped her a lust potion, at her eighteenth birthday party and had taken advantage of the drugged woman. Molly had ‘discovered them’ shagging their brains out on the backroom, and had raised a stink. She insisted they marry immediately because it was ‘only proper’. She also not-so-subtly threatened Hermione with revealing the tryst should she not ‘cooperate’. As a muggleborne, Hermione’s occupational mobility was directly tied to a patron. Molly thought that patron was herself. Hermione knew it was Harry.
The next day, when Harry had overheard Ron bragging to Ginny about how he’d shagged Hermione, he’d gone to Hermione’s flat and asked her what happened. She told him what little she remembered, and he told her what Ron had said, and ruthlessly stamping down the overwhelming urge to skin a freckle-faced, red-haired prat alive, they quickly worked out a plan that was underhanded, duplicitous and downright evil, and then apparated to the Granger’s home and explained the situation. Judith was livid. Mackenzie was more. That red-headed piece of shite had drugged and then raped his baby! He wanted to declare war on the wizarding world entirely…until Harry explained his plan.
“Mack, you have to calm down!”
“I know, Mack, but you know the laws were written by pureblood bigots to protect themselves. Shack is working hard to get those laws changed, but that’s a long time in coming. He’s facing hideous opposition from the pureblood contingent who’re afraid they’ll lose their perks. It sucks, but there it is.”
Mack growled but he realized if he attacked that ginger idiot, he’d be killed and likely Judith and Hermione as well. “So, what do we do?”
“I have an idea. You know Hermione and I have been sexually active for some time, and you also know we were going to marry when we’d finished university, yes?”
At Mackenzie’s nod, he went on.
“Well, I have no doubt Molly set this up. Ron truly sucks at potions, while she’s a near expert.”
“That’s how she got Arthur.” Hermione threw her two knuts in. “I remember she told us in the summer before fifth year she’d made a love potion ‘to get him off the fence’.”
“And nothing was done?” Judith gasped.
“It’s not illegal in the British wizarding world.” Hermione explained. “In fact it’s commonly done, particularly by purebloods on those who aren’t. Like all the more bigoted laws, potions use is only a crime if they’re used on a superior blood class. Molly and Arthur are both purebloods, so it…sort of…cancels itself out. I’m a muggleborne, and so I have very few rights there. Harry is a half-blood, head of three ancient and noble houses or not, he’s still a half-blood. It’s only that position that keeps him relatively safe. Well, that and the fact that he could single handedly ruin the wizarding economy if he wanted.” She chuckled. Harry flushed. He still wasn’t used to the literal mountain of gold he had in Gringotts, either as bequeathal or by right of conquest.
Before Mack could re-introduce the logical response to that, leaving Britain entirely, Harry cleared his throat.
“What I’d like to do is marry Hermione in a civil wedding. Today or tomorrow. That way the records are there, but none of the purebloods would ever think to look for them.”
“You’d make my daughter a bigamist?” Mackenzie growled.
“Better than being a baby factory to someone who only sees her as a trophy!” Harry shot back. “Something that he got, just so I couldn’t have it. According to the pureblood laws, if she left without marrying Ron, Molly could legally hunt her down no matter where she was, and force her into a marriage with that stupid berk, or even concubinage. I won’t allow that to happen.”
“Daddy, I love Harry. I always have. You know that. Molly is insisting Ron and I marry immediately, and once I’m trapped, she can set Harry up the same way. Last night will be the only time Ron will ever have my body. Memory charms are useful things, you know. Even on his wedding night, it’ll be Harry.”
“But…but, you’ll be married to Ron!” Judith was shocked that her child would even consider breaking her vows.
“Mum, it’s expected for purebloods to take mistresses, and I have no doubt, Ron will be doing just that. While not as accepted, it’s also not unusual for wives to have their own paramours…as long as they do so discretely. Double standard, there. I’ll just be using the laws they made, to my advantage. I’ll marry Harry now, to settle the legal issue, and then I’ll carefully word my vows to Ron, so I’m not his literal slave…and Harry and I can still be together.”
“And when you get pregnant?” Judith asked. “Won’t they be able to work that out?”
“The wizards see what they want to see.” Harry smirked. “They’re stupid that way. A few glamours and [/viola! Instant Weasley!”
“Wizarding marriages are for life. As I see it, Hermione will have to remain married to Ron until he dies.”
“That could be years!”
“Not necessarily. Ron is clumsy, and prone to accident. Playing in a highly dangerous sport doesn’t help him at all.” Harry smirked evilly.
“You’d do that?” Judith asked in shock. She knew Harry was easily capable of killing…so was Hermione for that matter, but Ron had been their best friend!
“Judith, Ron raped your daughter. It may not have been a violent rape, but it was still a rape. He knew we were going to marry, so he fed her a powerful potion to make her lose all control and think that she loved him, and he used that loss of control and that false-love, as an excuse to rape my best friend. As I see it, he’s earned his place in hell./]
Hermione leaned her arse against the countertop and opened her legs, as Harry sank to his knees and popped the snaps on the sides of her ‘special’ knickers, revealing her neatly trimmed mons to his eye. The panty fell to the floor. He greedily inhaled her unique scent, dropped a kiss on her mound, and then properly introduced, applied his tongue to her folds with the same determination he’d shown in every one of his ‘more important’ studies. Shocked, Hermione could only shiver and gasp in pleasure at this friendly assault. Any thoughts of protest flew immediately out the window. Her hands gripped his hair as she directed him. Soon enough, she had no rational thoughts in her head, whatsoever, as his velvety smooth tongue caressed her clit. Instinctively, she rolled back onto her arse, to expose herself more fully to him. Harry then pressed in with a fervor she'd rarely seen before. Hermione rested one leg on his back, while drawing the other up onto the table.
A combined fluttering of his tongue against her clit, his knowledge of ancient runes, and his ‘gift with languages’ brought about her first climax in a rush. She quickly stuffed a rolled up towel into her mouth and screamed her release into the terry.
In the other room, as the announcer was rehashing the brilliant saves he’d made, Ron was working on his third glass of firewhiskey and singing his praises for the Cannons’ near-victory that day. According to him, the entire team would have faded into history had it not been for his miraculous skills at keeping. Those present, also getting drunk, were enthralled as his tall tales became taller by the minute.
Harry stood up and they shared her flavour with a long, deep kiss. She reached into his trousers and found what she knew she would. He was achingly hard and full. Undoing his belt, she stroked him.
She whispered. “You’re almost ready to fire, Harry.” As she traced her forefinger around the swollen head of his erection.
“Ladies first!” He shot back.
“Always the gentleman!” She smirked.
He stroked her clit as he kissed her again, bringing forth her sweet cries. Harry so loved to hear her cry out like that. He adored even more, that he was the one drawing forth such pleasure from the woman he loved.
Hermione whimpered; “Please Harry, don’t tease me!”
Crossing two fingers, he pushed them into her body, twisting them around.
“Oh God!” she gasped. His invading fingers stretched and pulled flesh, drawing her hood tightly over her enflamed clit. Sparks of exquisite torment, flashed like lightning throughout her body, coursing from that most sensitive of organs and igniting every nerve ending she had. She thought she was going to climax again when he stopped, and gently turned her by the shoulders to face the shelves, and pushed forward on her upper back.
Hermione loved this position! When they made love like this, she could feel him all the way up inside her! She flipped the back of her skirt up, exposing her arse to him. Bracing her arms on the wide shelf and arching her back, she lifted her pussy to him. Harry spread his feet widely to position himself correctly, and pressed the purpling head of his engorged organ against her reddened vulva, sliding it up and down, slicking it with her juices, touching her clit in one direction and partially entering her in the other.
He leaned over her back and whispered into her ear; “Is this what you want?" suckling on her lobe.
“It’s exactly what I want!” she moaned, as she arched her back, pushing backward onto his throbbing erection, trying to force his cock into her.
“You’re a naughty girl, you are!” He whispered, pressing his glans into her just an inch or so, before pulling out again. “Your husband is in the other room, getting hammered while you’re here, with me, about to get thoroughly fucked!
"God, Harry,” she begged. “Fuck me!"
She got her wish. With one swift thrust, he was buried to the hilt. Her slick, fiery-hot passage squeezed tightly around his shaft, as he pushed into her; each ridge of muscle massaging his throbbing shaft like the fingers of a velvety smooth glove.
“Ohgod!” She sobbed in exquisite pleasure, as he slid home, pushing her inner flesh aside. He let go his own gasp of delight as she enveloped him in raw, wet heat.
He pulled out of her snug channel and swiftly pushed right back in. His already over stimulated glans protested against the nearly painful sensations created by the tight ridges of muscles within her body. Pulling out again slowly, he gave her two seconds to recover before sliding into her, again, and again. It was not sweet. It was not gentle. It was fiercely passionate. It was driving and pounding and violent and harsh!!! It was all that and it was much, much more.
It was Hermione’s declaration of her unrelenting love for Harry, and it was a promise for the future.
It was Harry’s vow he would be hers and hers only forevermore! It was his oath of his love, and his promise that his children would only be hers and hers would only be his. It was the joining of two people, so deeply in love, who’d been forced apart by the greed of others.
She stood on tip-toe, her calves straining, to get the best position, knowing all the while that her husband was getting drunk in the next room. Ginny would be there as well, waiting to try to seduce Harry…again.
He wrapped his arms almost painfully tight around her waist, as he ground his hips against her arse, and for the now, the world consisted only of them.
A burst of laughter, from the lounge nearly made them panic. In the kitchen, the door swung open with a bang, and Ginny stumbled her way into the room. Both lovers pulled out their wands in case an emergency Obliviation proved to be necessary. Completely unaware of the adulterous coupling not three feet away, she went to the coldbox and withdrew bowls of various nibbles, piling them onto a tray. Picking up two more bottles of firewhiskey from the countertop, she balanced the tray and wobbled unsteadily out of the room.
Harry and Hermione both giggled nervously. They’d almost been caught! Their concealment was their only safety. They both loved the risk of getting caught. They frequently arranged their assignations in risky situations, because the very good chance of being discovered by anyone in their forbidden congress, only made it all the more exciting. In fact, Hermione could easily feel inside her that Harry’s erection had grown harder than ever, and she knew he’d soon be leaking pre-cum into her belly. He looked at the still-open doorway, but any thought of stopping came to a screeching halt as Hermione whispered; "Harry please, I need you!" she moaned in bliss, wriggling her arse trying to get more of him inside her.
Ever the gentleman, Harry thrust deeply into his woman’s body, making her squeak in passion.
Hermione moaned in pure bliss as frissons of pleasure raced up and down her body, as Harry moved inside her as slowly, as fully as possible, touching places within her too deeply buried for any other to reach.
He braced his hands on her hips and began shift his body with rapid, shallow strokes.
Soon enough, her breathing, first grew faster, and then became panting as the pressure built up. Her breathless panting provided the perfect counterpoint to his thrusting.
Hermione leaned further forward and laid her lovely chest flat on the wide shelf, her breasts mashed against the surface and her nails clawing at the heavy wood, as her lover generated such exquisite sensations throughout her body. Harry curled over her, ensuring as much contact as their clothing would allow, and pumped into her. Gasping and panting rapidly with each stroke, she began her rise to climax. .
Moving one of his hands from her hip, around and down her belly to her curls, his fingers caressed her lips around his pistoning shaft, but when he touched her clit, shocking her with the electric feeling; she gasped out loud as lightning flashed through her body, from the tips of her toes to the ends of her hair. Hermione felt herself about to explode in climax again. Levering herself frantically up on trembling arms, lest she betray them both, she turned her head to Harry’s and opened her mouth to scream. Harry covered her mouth with his and swallowed her cries of pleasure.
When she’d come down, she panted; “Give me a baby, Harry!” Harry wrapped his arms around her, pulled her tightly to him and joined his mouth to hers once more, pouring all the love he held for this amazing, wonderful woman, into the kiss.
She gave as good as she got, her entire being meeting his in pleasurable combat.
They’d planned this very carefully. She wanted to get pregnant again, and she’d never be more fertile than now. This would be their second child together. Their daughter Rose Lillian Weasley, was a precocious two, now, and she was hoping for a boy. If the baby was a boy, she’d ensure Ron made one of his names ‘James’, and if they had another daughter, she hoped to name her after her mother, Judith.
As they parted lips again he gently withdrew from her body. “Turn around!” he whispered. “I want to look into your eyes.”
She smiled, and turning in his arms, hopped on top of the shelf. Spreading her thighs widely she leaned back on her elbows in lewd invitation.
His eyes never leaving hers, Harry’s hand found its way down her down her sweating skin to her wet folds and traced her slit, pushing her lips aside as he placed the engorged and thoroughly wetted bell of his erection at her cleft, and pushed slowly in.
Hermione moaned in bliss as Harry slid his cock deep inside her, revelling in every inch of him, every ridge and vein on his engorged shaft, as he invaded her body.
"God I love you so much, Hermione." He hissed in her ear, then nibbled it gently, as he clinched her tightly. Their passion-heated flesh burned in lust, as they pressed so closely they seemed to be one body, not two.
“I love you too, baby!” She sighed, then, enflamed with lust, she ordered; “Fuck me!”
Slowly, he did, slipping out only to thrust forward again.
Slow became fast and his thrusts became deeper until he was literally a blur of moving flesh. Their world narrowed to the contact between them and the long, thick, iron-hard shaft pounding into her body.
Hermione’s moans became harsh panting as she lifted first, one leg, and then the other, to wrap around his back.
Harry slid all the way in and just stayed there, moving his hips, back, forth, side to side.
Their grunts and moans were harsh and guttural, as Harry filled her, nearly to her cervix. He shifted around, to prolong the torment, but remained buried deeply within her. He slipped his hand between their tightly pressed bodies and thumbed her clit, roiling it side to side.
Hermione’s next climax came quickly. Her breathing became harsher and faster with soft screams. Those screams grew in intensity until she pulled his mouth to hers and again, he swallowed her passion.
In the other room, Ron poured anther glass of firewhiskey, absently wondering where his wife was. No matter. She’d be home soon and then he’d shag her rotten!
Harry kept his lips joined to Hermione’s; their tongues battled for the limited space, breathing through their noses, until the demand for more air forced them apart. Both of them cursed the need to breathe.
As their mouths parted, he renewed his assault on her nether regions, sliding his thick, long shaft out and back in.
“Together, then?” He asked. They loved to come together.
She could only nod with eyes glazed in near-delirium and a whimpered; “Uhuh” as he pounded into her again. He could easily feel her vaginal muscles clutching and convulsing around him, signaling the beginnings of her fourth orgasm, so he slightly re-adjusted his angle and he found himself hitting her sweet spot as he once more forced his hand between them and thumbed her swollen clitoris in sync to his thrusts.
Hermione pushed against hard him as he plowed her. The slap, slap, slap of flesh on flesh was clearly audible, though with the music and chatter on the other side of the wall, nobody celebrating Ron’s ‘victory’ could hear a thing. It was only the ancient home’s stone construction that prevented things from shaking against the other side of the wall.
Within seconds, her muscles clamped tightly around him and she gasped out his name, as she began to come hard; which made him drive all the harder. Clamping his mouth tightly against hers, so her passion didn’t betray them, he pumped hard and fast. She was peaking and now, he was frantic to finish, as she rode the crest of her orgasm. They did so love to come together.
And then it was done. With a throaty groan, that seemed to be almost a cry of agony, Harry thrust as deeply into her sweaty body as he could, before releasing his seed into her womb. She gasped out loud in a long, throaty growl, and shuddered around him as she felt the hot fluid erupt from his overheated weapon to splash against her cervix.
He clutched her to him her in almost a death grip, with his face buried in the side of her neck. There was not a single inch of him that was not mashed into her so tightly they seemed to be one person! Hermione held Harry as tightly, reveling in the feel of his seed pulsing into her.
“Oh, God!” Hermione whimpered into his chest as his climax triggered another for her. She forced her head up and found Harry’s mouth waiting. Shaking and shuddering, panting and sweating, Hermione rejoiced as the orgasm ripped through her!
In the other room a great hurrah sounded, and for a moment they feared they’d been discovered. When nobody raced in to accuse them of precisely what they’d been doing, they relaxed, giggling in relief.
Long, breathless, minutes later, Hermione lifted her head. Harry gazed into her eyes, with a mixture of shock and love. Hermione saw he was bleeding from his mouth. She’d bitten him in her passion.
“Wow!” Harry whispered. He was astounded by this animal side of his bookish friend.
“Mmm! Yeah!” She returned. She kissed his bleeding lip. “I’m sorry, love.” She murmured.
“Don’t be. I’m not.” Harry’s eyes shone with a light that had dimmed in recent years. It was those lights behind his eyes that had first drawn her, and now, that spark of pure love was restored. Ron or no, Molly or no, she would never let him go!
In the lounge, Ron was well and truly pissed and singing obscene ditties about Quidditch, Quidditch teams, Quidditch fans, and Quidditch fangirls, specifically. Oddly enough, given how drunk he was, the only thing he didn’t include, was the Cannons.
Ginny wasn’t far from his state of intoxication. Hermione knew Ron would try to shag her tonight, and most likely pass out. A Solumnus charm would ensure it. Memory charms would handle the rest. Fortunately, Ginny wasn’t much of a drinker, and so it would be easy enough for Harry to avoid her ham-fisted attempts to lure him into her bed.
A few more thrusts, some gentle playing and many, many tender kisses later, they separated; sweaty and satisfied…at least for the time being. Hermione swiftly cast a charm to keep Harry’s seed inside her
Harry tucked his deflated organ back into his pants, cast a cleaning charm on the front of his trousers, and then knelt and picked up her knickers, before fastening them around her hips, while Hermione cast some air freshening charms to eliminate the distinctive odor of sexual congress.
Leaving a last, lingering kiss on the silk, he stood, tucked in his shirttails and held her gently. A few more loving kisses and he asked; “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow’s no good.” She sighed. “We both have to be at the Burrow for Sunday dinner.”
“Shite! Forgot about that! That means I’m gonna have to fight off Ginny and Molly.”
“You’ve got the potion?”
“Yeah. Brewed some up last week.” Harry had long before become used to taking an antidote to all known love potions before visiting the Weasley home.
“How about Monday, at your place?” She asked with a devilish gleam in her eye.
“Absolutely! I have a new bed just waiting for us to break in.” He smirked remembering exactly how his old bed had been damaged.
“I’ll be there.” She swore. Then Harry silently apparated to the back porch and Hermione, to the bathroom. There she cast a few freshening spells, charmed her rumpled clothes smooth, and arranged her hair before re-entering the lounge, just in time to witness her redheaded husband making an arse of himself.
Harry walked in a moment later to congratulate Ron on his near-victory.
In a freak accident, Ron died fourty seven days later, as during a late-season game. He was just deflecting the Quaffle when a bludger struck him on the side of the head, knocking him from his broom and flinging him to the ground fifty feet below. He broke his neck on impact.
It seemed Wailbourne couldn’t find anyone to buy Ron’s contract.
Neither Harry, nor Hermione were even there. Rather, they were in bed at Harry’s flat, shagging their brains out.
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