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Finding True Happiness	By : CeliaEquus Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 19445 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I have no claim on the Harry Potter franchise, and am making no money from any of my fan fiction.

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“Hermione Receives a Present”

The courting commences

She was a wondrous sight, splayed out on her bed like some offering to a god. Thankfully she was dressed in a nightgown: easier access.

Peeves flew down, having made himself invisible for this, and lifted the hem. Good. Only her underwear had to be removed. He gently lifted the fabric up to her waist, his gaze lingering on her covered breasts, and then reached for her drawers.

He dived back as she shifted in her sleep. Fortunately she settled down quickly, and he was finally able to feel her.

Such warmth. It was… delicious. He’d never taken the time to touch a student for any reason other than to push them into a cupboard or something. Now he was glad that he had saved the experience for this girl.

Unlike other ghosts he didn’t automatically freeze her, which was just as well; he fully intended to enjoy this even if she turned out not to be The One. With a wicked smile he pulled down her underwear. As he pulled them over her feet she kicked, giggling. Clearly he had tickled her.

This was becoming far more enjoyable than he had anticipated.

He tossed the scrap of fabric aside, not caring where it landed, and bent over to smell her.

“Mmm.” He took a deep breath. “Nice.” Gods, was it tempting to taste her. But that would be impossible, so he did what he came to do.

“Oh!” Hermione exclaimed as he pushed two fingers into her. She parted her legs further, eyes still closed. “What on… mmm… oh, my…” She rocked her hips against his hand. Her cheeks were flushed a deep, deep red and she was clutching the bedclothes. “W-what is th…? Ah!”

She muttered for the next few minutes until she was bucking, causing his fingers to sink deeper inside. Peeves wished that he could take her now, but she had to be conscious as well as willing. Besides, he wanted her to know what was happening.

If her reddened cheeks hadn’t already told him what he needed to know, the barrier he felt spoke plenty. She was definitely pure. Hopefully she would remain so until he could remedy that.

At last she cried out, tensing at first and then releasing. She shuddered and shivered where she lay, and he could see that she had finally woken up. But she dropped off to sleep again almost immediately, probably exhausted. After observing her sleeping form for a few minutes, the blush fading gradually, Peeves left.

He grinned. She wasn’t so pure now.

Waking up to soaked sheets was an unusual experience, especially as Hermione could swear that she’d worn her knickers beneath her nightie. And yet… there they were, at the end of her bed!

It was the end of the first week of classes and Hermione had had a wicked dream the night before, where an invisible hand had done things to her no one had ever done before. She’d felt an intense pleasure that erupted in a bone-melting wave of satisfaction. But she had to have been asleep, right? It was just too strange for it not to have been a dream.

As she rolled over to get her wand and cast a Cleansing Charm she gasped. There on her bedside table was a small pile of tulips. She transfigured her glass into a vase, filled it with water and began to arrange the tulips as nicely as she could, all the while wondering who had left them. There was no note…

Perhaps it was just a customary present for a new Head Girl. But that didn’t seem quite right.

Hopefully it wasn’t from Ernie MacMillan, the Head Boy. Her room was warded against unauthorised entry, but he could have replaced the wards had he been able to break them.

She checked. They had her magical signature in place; no one else’s.

So how did her gift-giver get in?

And what had brought on that insanely erotic dream?

Was it worth the ridicule of going to the Gryffindor ghost? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington knew how to pursue women, but he was also a dreadful gossip. Not only would the rest of the ghosts know by nightfall but the headmaster would, too, and Peeves didn’t want to get into trouble.

A poltergeist seducing a virgin? Yeah, `cause that wouldn’t get him kicked out…

Peeves floated around the school – invisible again – to study the portraits of couples. He tried to recall everything he teased students about when it came to Valentine’s Day.

Wait a minute. Valentine’s Day! He just had to remember what students gave each other.

“Cards,” he muttered, staring out one of the windows, “flowers, jewellery, sweets. Flowers I can do.” He sighed. “But the other things…”

Could he steal something for her? No. He couldn’t leave the school, and things would sure as hell go belly-up if Hermione started receiving ‘stolen goods’ from someone. That wasn’t the way to win her co-operation, either.

Aha! He knew one thing that he could do.

Waiting outside the Potions classroom, Hermione, Ron and Harry talked. She very carefully left out her strange dream. She did mention the flowers casually, trying to divert their attention from Ginny’s depression (as she refused to discuss the reason with them), but her boys immediately went on the alert.

“They were just flowers!” she insisted. “The war is over, or had you forgotten that? No one’s out to hurt me.”

“Well, did you check them first?” Harry asked.

Hermione bit her bottom lip. She hadn’t. She’d still been too dazed from her strange night. But there was still no need to tell them about it.

“See?” Ron said, pointing at her. “Hermione, you should go to Madame Pomfrey.”

“No,” she said. “We’ve got class in a few minutes.”

“I agree with Potter,” Malfoy said. The trio glared at him. He merely smirked back. “Why would anyone give her flowers? Who’d want her?”

Hermione scowled at him, but grabbed her friends’ hands. “Don’t,” she whispered.

“It’s true,” he continued. “You’ll just have to get used to loneliness, Mud… aargh!”

The Gryffindors laughed as, out of nowhere, a tub of jelly was dumped on top of the Slytherins. It splashed not only Malfoy but his friends, all of them drenched in purple, berry-flavoured, wiggling dessert.

Just then Professor Snape rocked up.

“Are you incapable of casting a Cleaning Spell, Draco?” he drawled. “All of you, clean up.” Then he turned on the Gryffindors. “Who is responsible for this?”

An evil, high-pitched cackle echoed around the corridor.

Aw! That’s kind of sweet, isn’t it? Still, Hermione will now be insecure. Ah well. We all have problems, and I’m sure she’ll get over it. Besides, it will just give her secret admirer an opportunity to make her feel better.

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Finding True Happiness