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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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“More Gifts”

The next day Hermione returned to her rooms after class to find a wonderful work of origami resting on her desk. Someone had fashioned pieces of parchment into a model of a quill; a damn good model, at that. If it wasn’t for the texture and size she could have mistaken it for the real thing.

“Beautiful,” she whispered, stroking it gently. She hardly liked to handle it in case it fell apart. A lot of work must have gone into such artistry. “Who would do this?”

She looked at herself in the floor-length mirror by her dressing table. Malfoy was right. No one in their right mind would want her. Her hair was just plain, old, mousy brown, though admittedly less bushy than in her first few years at Hogwarts. But that was thanks to extensive use of hair products. Her teeth were also a more manageable size, thank Godric. This made her smile almost… pleasant.

Unfortunately, while she certainly wasn’t fat – too much running around during battle had at least kept her weight down, not to mention the times she forgot to eat because she was busy studying – she wasn’t as thin as other girls at Hogwarts. Girls like Ginny and the Patil twins, for example. She wanted to be more like them.

Yet it didn’t seem to have helped Ginny. Hermione sighed. There was nothing she could do about that, so she refocussed on her own issues.

Another problem was that she didn’t know how to apply makeup properly. That was the one drawback of privacy: she no longer had someone around to help her with her appearance. That included her lack of fashionable clothes. Her book bag was kind of ratty, but it was reliable. Her conversation was intelligent, but above the heads of most people her age. Her knowledge of Quidditch was decent, but her lack of enthusiasm was a disadvantage.

Hermione sighed. Well, perhaps she’d meet someone after she graduated. Plenty of people worked at the Ministry.

But then… she couldn’t discount the person who had now left her a present twice. The flowers could have been explained away as a Head Girl present, but not the origami quill. That was too personal.

It was too special.

It had been a week now. Peeves watched her every night, and checked on her during classes and meals. He remembered to terrorise some students each day so that no one would suspect that anything was amiss. The rest of the time – after all, he needed no sleep – he contemplated possible presents for Hermione.

The quill had been an ingenious idea, in his opinion. He’d raided the students’ storage cupboard for some scrap parchment. Being nimble with his fingers (a fact Hermione would discover more than once), he carefully constructed the piece of art. He flew down her chimney to deliver it, placing it on her desk. Then he waited to see her reaction.

He hadn’t been disappointed.

‘Beautiful’, she called it, he thought. But then she had stared in the mirror at herself. She had looked miserable, and he wished that he could read thoughts.

This morning his present had been a life-size drawing of Malfoy being turned into a ferret. He was a bloody good artist, even if he did say so himself.

Hermione had burst out laughing when she saw it on the wall beside her bed. He’d frowned at first, but her next words made him smile again.

“What a marvellous sight,” she said. “Just perfect. Malfoy, the Amazing Bouncing Ferret. I’ll have to apply a charm to protect this. It’s too good to lose.”

She then placed some kind of protective enchantment over the picture, which was good. Peeves had only had access to chalk.

Before she left she touched it, her eyes taking it in.

“No signature,” she murmured, looking sad. “What an artist, though. I hope I meet him someday.”

You will, Peeves thought as she left.

However, he now missed her warmth. He’d denied himself for a week; it was getting too much.

He’d have to do something that night.

Hermione moaned, arching her back as something blew on her privates.

“Must’ve forgotten the window,” she said, her voice thick from sleep. She struggled onto her elbows and blinked until she could see clearly. No; the window was definitely closed. Perhaps it was coming from the fireplace…

Wait a moment. Her knickers had disappeared again.

“Oh!” she exclaimed as something entered her. It felt like a finger. “Oh my. Who’s there?”

She received only silence and looked in front of her. Nothing there.

“I must be dreaming again,” she said. But no matter how many times she pinched herself nothing changed. The invisible finger continued to move in and out, and it was becoming more and more difficult to concentrate. “Tell me who’s there, or I’ll… I’ll…”

Her voice grew weaker as another finger joined the first. They curled around inside her and she yelped.

Her mind was a blur. What was happening to her? Something she couldn’t see was making her… ooh, was m-making her… mmm…

“Gods,” she said. Her hips moved involuntarily and the fingers upped their speed and depth. Something – some hidden force inside – made her fall back onto the covers and surrender to this phantom of hers.

She moaned and whimpered, the strangest, most delicious sensations coursing through her body like Fiendfyre. It was ticklish, but in a way that made her nipples tighten and her legs tremble. In fact, she was shaking all over.

In what felt like no time at all her whole body jerked and she felt something burst out of her. The fingers continued their actions, prolonging this sweet, sweet pleasure. Finally, she shuddered to a stop, her body completely relaxed.

Yet the fingers kept going.

“W-what are you doing to me?” she asked. Still there remained only the sound of her breathing and the squelching between her legs. She bit her lower lip and moaned again. Her pelvis began a rolling motion against the hand that she still couldn’t see. She was tempted to reach out and grab whatever was there, but didn’t want this torture to end. She knew that it would if she did something like that.

After she came a second time her mysterious guest left. Her heart sank, and it took her over an hour to get back to sleep.

And yet… she hadn’t felt this relaxed since the war ended. Even after the last battle took place there was still cleaning up to do and rogue Death Eaters to capture. She’d personally been attacked a few times. She felt jumpy for many months.

Now the war was the farthest thing from her mind.

Phew. That was fun.

I hope you’re still enjoying it, those faithful few who are still reading. I’m certainly enjoying the writing process for this. I came up with a great couple of scenes while I was playing Solitaire earlier, so maybe that’s the key to it. Play Solitaire for ideas. What do you reckon?

Anyway, I’m determined to slot in more of the subplot/s, so we’ll see how it goes.
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Finding True Happiness