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Seventh Year Itch
By : mamaleena
Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female
Views: 2435 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. - Chapter List
Hermione landed in the back alley of a busy London street. She tucked her hair shyly behind her ear and wrapped her coat tightly around her revealing outfit. The recollection of Harry’s finger’s lingering over her breasts made her shiver, made her bold. She cat-walked out of the alley and immediately spotted a safe haven. A book store. An occult book store. She rushed across the street and entered, the warmth hitting her like a rush of relief.
The inside of the shop was wood paneled and smelled of earthy incense that made the floor drift up to her. “We’re closing soon.” a male voice declared just as she slid off her coat. “Oh, I’m sorry, I’ll go then,” Hermione called and a head popped up from behind the counter, a young man with shaggy brown hair, water blue eyes and a cute, sleepy kind of face.
“Well, I mean, you can look around,” he said, staring blatantly at Hermione’s figure.
Hermione beamed, and began exploring the stacks, amazed at the effect her appearance had on this boy. Looking at the books, she scoffed, and the boy, who had moved from behind the counter to lean on it, looked up. “What?”
Hermione hesitated then held up a book about crystal magic. “This book is…well, it’s total crap. That’s not magic.”
“Tell me about it,” the boy said, rolling his eyes and smiling.
Hermione’s heart skipped a beat. Could it be…a wizard? The boy shook his head. “It’s a pretty ridiculous concept, huh? Magic I mean.”
Hermione dropped the book and walked over to the counter. She leaned on the counter and smiled. “I agree completely.”
The boy leaned on the counter too, and raised his eyebrow. “I’m Andrew. You are?”
Hermione, leaned closer, so that her face was an inch away from his face. “I’m…Ginny.”
Andrew began to say good to meet you, but Hermione cut him off at “meet” with a kiss. He grabbed her face and deepened the kiss, then pulled away. He picked Hermione up and sat her on the counter. They were now nose to nose. They kissed fiercely, Hermione pulling at his hair in a desperate way she couldn’t explain. His finger’s found their way to her breasts, caressing them through her shirt, making her shiver against him. He reached his other hand under her skirt and she breathed in quickly. He rubbed, small circles, through her underwear, making her gasp and push against him. His fingers stopped rubbing, and busied themselves with pulling her underwear off. He unzipped his pants and instead of the nervous butterflies she expected she felt warmth and a new kind of excitement that made her toes curl. “Condom.” she reminded him breathlessly and he pulled out his wallet, taking from it a blue-wrapped condom.
He pushed his pants down and Hermione stared. She traced the shape of the first penis she’d ever seen in real life and the boy groaned, unwrapping the condom with a sense of emergency. Then Hermione realized, this is it. Good bye virginity. Hello sex. She leaned her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes and thought of all the ways she’d imagined this happening. One thought in particular, on that had lingered in her mind for almost four years. Her, sandwiched between Harry and Ron, their two whipcord bodies surrounding her’s. Harry’s chest pressed against her back, kissing her neck, his finger’s lingering on her-sharp pain as Andrew pushed into her. It faded quickly and she didn’t let it interrupt her fantasy, actually incorporated it. It was Ron inside her, facing her so she could see his face, could feel Harry’s muscles behind her. His expression of tension and focus, the one she’d seen him making while asleep once, his hips rocked against hers, trusting into her. She felt pleasure building, caressed his face, arched her back. Harry gone now, everything gone except Ron, arms around her, holding her, inside her, her love love love. She moaned, pushing her hips forward more desperately, her mouth on the boy’s shoulder and she heard him groan. In her mind it was Ron breathing hard, groaning, making her feel like every nerve in her body might explode in the same ecstasy. Hips rocking, stomach’s pushing together, he whispered, “I’m gonna come.”
Ron staring into her eye’s lifting her face, breathing hard so they’d be looking into each other’s eyes when-Hermione cried out and arched her back, beneath her cry heard a groan felt a final thrust and a head on her chest. She opened her eyes reluctantly, knowing that it wasn’t Ron’s head on her chest, wasn’t his ragged breathing, wasn’t his hips lingering between her legs. She reached for her underwear and pulled them on, then hopped off the counter. “I believe,” she whispered in Andrew’s ear, pulling on her coat, “you needed to close.”
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