Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

By The Light	By : lycanthrope Category: Harry Potter > FemSlash - Female/Female Views: 17685 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: All of the characters portrayed in this fic (apart from Jamie.) and all other creations existing within the world Of Harry Potter are the creative genius of J.K Rowling, I make no profit from the writing or posting of this fan fiction.

Chapter List
- 45
- 46
- 47
Chapter 46

"Jamie!" Hermione practically squeals less than three steps from my doorway, the tips of my fingers dextrously sliding beneath her knitted jumper to touch the silky skin between navel and hip. Her hands close over my arms that are securely wrapped around her, pulling my chest tighter against her back. The force in which she presses down lifts her up onto her tip toes mid step but to be perfectly honest, all she manages to do is push my wondering hands to much more provocative planes of her body and slide her back against me in such a way that it makes my eyes roll back in their sockets. "Stop that!"

"Why?" I enquire around a chuckle; my nose nestled between her wilds curls so my lips can press tightly against the column of her neck.

Her shoulders twist in a half-hearted effort to pull my tight embrace from around her, causing yet more tantalising brushes against me and I have to use every ounce of my willpower to resist throwing her up against the nearest wall. "Because someone might see us." As she makes this protest, which is becoming much weaker with every step we have taken, her hands flatten against the withered wood at the entrance to my chamber.

"There's nobody here Hermione." I say very seriously. Failing to mention that I needed to force my attention away from her intoxicating scent, which is only getting stronger the more I touch, to be able to run my senses along the corridor.

"How can you possibly know that?" She asks, leaning back to look up and over her shoulder at me. I feel a sarcastic look cross over my face and lift a single finger to tap at the side of my nose. "Oh." She says her face creasing in on itself in understanding. "I'd almost forgotten about that."

I cock my head to the side in question, the word, "Really?" falling from my lips and just for a moment my raging hormones diminish, as I try to figure out if I am pleased with that thought or not.

Her hand against my cheek effectively removes me from my deep contemplation. "Yeah, you're special to me anyway; you don't need amazing senses, or even a goddess living in your head. Just make sure you're still you." She says slowly and I can see her studying my features critically. Only allowing herself to relax when I feel a grin spread across my face. "Now, you have to let go of me Sweetheart."

Instinctively my arms tighten around her, I'm far to close to privacy to give up on the notion of ridding her of all these bothersome clothes now. "Why?" I ask, swallowing back the sudden and disconcerting urge to whimper.

Her fingers are already closing around my hands, gripping around the creases of my palms and fighting against my hold. "Because, the sooner you let go of me the sooner we can get inside." Her voice has a delectable purr to it and I have to shake my head to clear the sudden onslaught of from my libido to be able to interpret her words. "Now, let go." She says softly pressing her lips to my jaw line.

I don't often consider myself to be an idiot, so I am quick to obey the command. I drop my arms down to my sides and wait for her to enter. Only stopping for a moment to send a puzzled look in her direction when she indicates that I should go ahead of her, all she does is lift both eyebrows at me in equal parts challenge and to show her mounting desire that I can already smell coiling in the passageway, so I don't question her verbally.

With much more coordinated steps this time around, I manage to enter the room and clear the doorway relatively quickly to provide her room to enter. Cursing what I perceive to be her agonisingly slow steps right up until the moment she is fully inside the tiny room. Her hands hold out the moment she is steady on her feet, palms wide open and facing me. "Wait." She instructs with a half smile curling one side of her lips. "Just wait till I get the door back on its hinges, okay?"

I can feel my body leaning forward, poised and ready to advance my hands quickly balling into fists of restraint at being forced to wait just a second longer. This must be what makes her giggle in my direction, I don't let her show of humour damage my ego too much as I must admit, looking so ready and eager does probably make me look very amusing. "Hurry up." My strained voice and urgent words do little to drop the entertained look but she does quickly turn her back on me to attend to her task. I step up close to her, keeping my hands firmly at my sides, just like she had requested but I simply must see how she had managed to open the seemingly impenetrable door with what appears to be so little effort.

What I see does leave me somewhat astounded. From somewhere, very possibly having either conjured one or transfigured one, she has been able to acquire a small piece of wood in the shape of a sturdy wedge. With the toe of her shoe she pushes it firmly under the door until it lifts to the correct height to align the two halves of the hinges she has separated. Then quite simply pushes it into place. She drops one, brass pin into all three hinges and she removes the wedge. The door itself looks comply intact and personally I would be hard pressed to see that it had been tampered with. "Are we locked in again?"

"No." She replies, turning to press the wedge of oak into my palm and closes my fingers around it. "I've left the bottom rivets off the hinges. You can come and go as you please but be careful, it won't be easy to close the door behind you and anyone could walk past and see you're not here anymore."

I nod my understanding and move my new possession in my hand so it is suspended between my fingers and thumb. "Who would have thought such an inane looking things would be just as useful as a key."

"That is sort of the point. You shouldn't have to hide it because no one will know what it's for." She says quietly her eyes hunting for some sort of reaction. I'm not entirely certain what she expects to see but her half smile is enough to let me know she had found what she had been looking for.

"Just hope I'm able to use it." Slowly and carefully I put the solid piece of wood down onto my desk. It's such a muggle thing to do, such a non magical solution and we've already established that without my wand I am less than ineffective.

Her warm, welcoming hand touches my cheek drawing my gaze back to become ensnared in hers. "I'm sure you'll get the hang of it." Her other hand lands against my hip and she steps so deeply into my personal space that her pelvis pushes against me, forcing me to take a half step backwards. "Just make sure they're not taking any weight and the pins should slide right out."

Somehow I had been so preoccupied by the intensified smell of this woman in such a tiny enclosed space and the provocative movement of her lips, that I know for a fact that I heard every word she said. However I am completely unable to interpret their actual meaning and must look very simple when I utter a confused, "Pardon?"

The grin that pulls over her face is one of pure hilarity and is accompanied by a small chuckle. "Sit down." Without warning her hand is against my breastplate, pushing in such a demanding way that my knees bend, without any pause for thought and I rest my rump on the bed as instructed. She makes the decent along with me, her thighs parting so her knees push deep into the mattress on either side of my hip, causing the whole piece of furniture to grown under our combined weight. "Do you think this thing will hold us both?" She asks, more as an afterthought raised high on her knees to look over my shoulder.

"Hermione." I say in an almost serious tone, so much so that she leans back on her hunches to look down at me from her high position on my lap. "At this point, I really don't care." My hands touch her denim-covered knees and slide the outer length of her thighs. My torso straightening as hers bends and she allows me to capture her lips in an erotic private dance. Not halting my actions as my fingers graze the waistline of her jeans and skim along the outer edge, only just touching skin.

Her tongue is the first to venture forth, running along my lower lip in a silent bid for entrance. She need not ask a second time as my jaw drops and the strong organs enter their own ballet hidden behind our sealed lips from the rest of the world.

My hands meet at the centre of her stomach, closeing around the thick fabric and dextrously pulling the button from its fastening. The sound of the zipper does reach my ears as it descends but my senses are much more focused on the noise of Hermione's frantic breaths and the heavy scent of her arousal gradually filling the room.

Since the moment the sun's rays touched my skin out in the grounds I had wanted nothing more than to press against this woman, currently sat astride me, in an intimate embrace. As such I forgo the usual inconvenience of disrobing her and hook my fingers over the waistband of her underwear, sliding the appendage against her most personal folds, the edges of the open zipper scrape against the back of my hand, then along my wrist, almost as if offended by the intrusion.

Her heated flesh practically burns my chilled digits and the almost startled gasp that escapes her into my mouth is like music to my ears. She presses her knees much more heavily into the thin mattress, rising up over me in an attempt to afford me more room but all she really achieves is to pull her clothing more tightly around her lower half, constricting my movement to such an extent that all I am really able to do is bend my middle finger at the knuckles and press my fingertip between her folds.

In our current position I am only able to press into her to the second knuckle of my finger and I do not have enough space to maneuver into a more favourable position, not without breaking my wrist or removing my hand entirely. The decision is truly agonising and before I can contemplate exactly how painful a fractured wrist can be, Hermione takes resolution out of my hands completely. Rolling her hips forward and grinding down hard onto the heel of my hand.

With a single fluid movement her fingers thread through the strands of my hair, clutching at my scalp, pulling harshly so my lips separate from hers with an audible pop. She rests her forehead against mine as she rises above me again, rapid breath flows over most of my face as her eyes flutter open, showing me her pupils now blown to the size of saucers.

The only noise she makes is a highly enticing, breathless whimper as she descends once more, pressing more forcefully against my hips, crashing against my torso with such ferocity that I am forced to tighten the muscles all along my lower back to keep from toppling into the wall behind me.

I push against my free hand, sliding it further over the top of her thigh, along her side and settling in the deepest curve of her spine; providing some sense of support for her in such a precarious position. She barely even seems to notice my movement, too busy moving above me, the speed of her thrusts rapidly increasing along with the volume and length of her groans. All the while holding my gaze in a vice like grip, playing on my fascination with the constant contraction and dilation of her pupils, the thin line of her iris gradually turning from a pale brown to a shade of pitch.

I many be able to smell her rapidly reaching her peak, be able to feel the evidence of it pooling in my palm and my highly tuned ears can hear every catch of breath but never before have I had the privilege of watching her begin to come undone, through those portals into her very soul.

With every rolling movement I can feel her thighs beginning to quake around mine, her hands tightening against the roots of my hair and what's more I can see it. The way she fights and struggles to keep her eyes open, locked with mine. So I can witness the ecstasy brought to another from the inside out.

When the hollow sound of the door knocking reaches our ears everything breaks. The natural spell held between the two of us, the steady rhythm of her hips, even eye contact as she presses her nose deeply into the join between my shoulder and neck with a long, frustrated groan. All of her muscles are still trembling and without any leverage I am unable to continue what we had started and hope Hermione's frantic noises drove away whoever dared to interrupt.

Instead I have to settle for the intimidating growl that rumbles through my chest and turning my aggravated gaze to the offending structure. The voice that travels through it does little more than cause the daunting noise I am emitting, to double in volume. "Are you two awake yet?" I swear Nancy Ivybridge will not survive the day. Not with the mood she has currently forced me into.

"Go away!" I hadn't intended for my voice to sound so clipped, to lace it with just the barest edge of a threat but when I hear it I know it would have been unfeasible to suppress it.

"Yeah, well that doesn't work for me." Nancy say's through the door, having the audacity to be irritated with me. "The longer you two are in there, the more chance someone is going to find out that, the two of you have been in there."

She makes a valid point but in my current state I couldn't care less if she went and screamed it from the castle spires. Just so long as I could be left alone with this woman for the next few hours. Still I hold my tongue, as best I can, another rumble of discontent echoing off my ribcage and lacing through my whispered words. "I'm going to kill her."

Hermione, who has managed to compose herself enough to form coherent speech but not to halt the shuddering of her muscles from head to toe, gives a snort of laughter. "No you won't."

"Just watch me." I answer in all seriousness.

Her grip on my hair loosens and she presses her palm into my collarbone to push herself upright; the other drops between us and closes over my forearm in a silent request to remove my hand from inside of her clothing, something that I am more than a little disinclined to do. "It's not that bad." She says, just as she has manages to coax my invading limb from its warm habitat.

I did have the full intention of allowing her to remove my hand without incident but her words, which she had tried so hard to make sound candescent, even around her strained voice and rapid breaths, leaves me with something to prove. As such the single finger that had been buried so shallowly inside her, hooks at the end catching on that enflamed bundle of nerves that is still straining for attention. Her eyes close in a show of pure delight and her breathing shudders, hitching audibly on the inhale. "You were saying?" I goad, knowing it was hardly necessary and considering the fire that lights behind her lidded eyes when they are dragged open, it wasn't exactly the wisest words I could have spoken.

She catches her tongue between her front teeth and takes a deep breath to compose herself. Beyond her scathing death glare she completely ignores my comment. "We'll just have to wait." With her hand flat against my breastplate, she pushes back and clambers to her feat, stepping back to lean heavily against the desk. Running her fingers through her hair and I am left to wipe my damp palm against the bedspread.

Nancy, who is not renowned for patience gives a long-suffering sigh from the other side of the door. "Look, make sure you're both decent because I'm coming in."

Hermione's fingers are shaking as I hear the key scrape against the lock, pins and barrels shifting to grant entrance. It's only when I see the knob shift that I realise she is having so much trouble with the fastenings to her trousers. I'm on my feet in an instant, pressing the flat of my hand against the withered wood and throwing it closed once more. "Hey!" Nancy shouts from the other side pushing against it violently.

"Can you just give me a minuet?" I call back through the door, my eyes dropping to Hermione's fidgeting hands.

"Really?" She calls back and I can hear her agitated scream, muffled in some way, possibly by her hands. "Jamelia, just open the damned door!"

"In a minuet!" Only after I hear her huff of frustration and the scuff of her shoes on the shiny stone do I dare lower my hand from the door. Reaching out to touch my fingertips to the back of Hermione's quaking hands, I try to draw her attention to the seemingly impossible task she has set them. "Hermione?"

She audibly sighs, dropping her hands down to her sides. "Can you help me with this?"

I make a low sound in the back of my throat and bring both halves of the martial together, pushing the metal button through its loop. "I don't think you've ever asked me to redress you before." I have the zipper pulled high into position before she responds but she doesn't do so verbally; running her fingers once more through my hair and angling my head in such a way that, even with our difference in height she is able to force her mouth against mine. Her tongue pressing against my lips and practically demands an audience with mine. I'm barely in any position to argue.

So when Nancy succumbs to her own sense of paranoia that's how she finds us, hand clutching the doorknob and rearing up a step at the sight. "For the love of Merlin." She turns on the spot, without missing a beat and disappears around the doorframe.

Breaking away from Hermione, yet again is a chore and I have to take a calming breath as Hermione hands slide out of my hair, down along my cheeks. "Now can I kill her?" I ask again, still in all seriousness, already planning where I might hide the body. A girl like Nancy it might take days for anyone to notice she was even missing and I could steal Hermione's wand. Or even Nancy's, she won't miss it.

She titters as though I would jest about such matters. "The answer is still no."

I feel myself grumble, the scent of her still invading me, intoxicating me and rational thought all but leaves me until I shake my head; pulling Hermione tighter against me so I can tuck her head under my chin, waiting for her muscles to stop shaking from her denied release. "Are we going to get any privacy today?"

"Outlook is bleak." She answers, gripping onto my clothing and nuzzling against my skin.

"Whatever you two are doing, stop it." Nancy's voice filters into the room, still unseen somewhere in the corridor and I can hear her pacing steps. "We have places we need to be and quite frankly, it's just a little bit creepy."

"Creepy she says." I mutter, untangling myself from Hermione and virtually storming out of the room. "You think my relationship is creepy? Yet the way Mora carries on with that Neanderthal, that's perfectly fine."

"Yeah." Nancy says, her eyes on the ceiling in thought. Her back leaned heavily against the wall and her arms crossed. "You may have me there, she does have you beat in the creepy factor but at least Richardson is a wizard."

"That's debateable. Considering how much of an idiot he is." I return, noticing Hermione trying to remain inconspicuous as she closes the door behind her.

This look spreads across Nancy's face. It's sinister and conniving. Indicating how scathing her next words are meant to be even before she draws breath. "At least he's human."

It should have burned, right down to my soul, those few words should have hurt but they don't. A sparse few weeks or even days ago maybe they would have done but today. She can't touch me with that today, where I wouldn't be able to describe myself as human any longer, I'm beginning to wonder if that's a bad thing or not. "Well, at least I don't have to pay for it."

Both of the women around me stare at me with mouths agape for two very different reasons, Hermione because she is shocked at the meaning of my words and Nancy because not only did I refuse to rise to the bait but it also didn't appear to effect me in the slightest. The latter of the two is the first to recover slouching down still further and I can see her commenting to memory that mention of my affliction doesn't have any adverse effects on me any longer. "You have a point there. She did reduce the rate though."

"That doesn't make it better, Ivybridge." I rebuff.

Slowly, almost lethargically she shrugs. "Does in some circles."

We both turn to the side at Hermione's small titter and after realising she is under such scrutiny uncomfortably clears her throat. "You aren't joking? Are you?"

"Not even a little bit, princess." Nancy says in a highly sarcastic manor, before cocking her head to the side to indicate the speechless Gryffindor. "Sheltered that one. Isn't she?" She watches my darkening look and I can see the thoughts sparking off behind her eyes, if my disorder won't get a rise out of me she's found something that will. She doesn't push it though, files it away and saves it for when it'll hurt me more. With a grin to show me how proud of herself she is, she runs her eyes over my form, the smug expression fading slightly. "Well you certainly are a picture of health this morning."

My arms cross over my chest to mimic her almost defensive posture. "Must you sound so disappointed?"

"No, I'm impressed." She turns her gaze to Hermione, unhooking her arms and throwing out of thumb in my direction. "What healing spells are you using?"

Still reeling from the small interaction she had been witness too Hermione offers little more than a tight-lipped smile. "Trade secrets, I'm afraid."

"I'll just bet they are." Nancy replies with a small titter laced through her words, her hand goes deep into her pocket and she throws a small silver badge in my direction, which I catch as it rebounds off my chest. "The boy who lived does have to keep living somehow."

I turn the small talisman around in my fingers then hold it out for her to see, even though she already knows exactly what it is I hold. The words 'Inquisitorial Squad' catching in the false light surrounding us shining as I twist and turn it. "What's this in aid of?"

With a deep breath she pulls her lower lip between her teeth, a few last second calculations firing off in her mind. "It's Saturday, I have better things to be doing than carting you around the castle and keeping you out of bloody trouble." That doesn't exactly answer my question, so I once more indicate the small badge in my grasp. "It's a beacon. Now you know what to do, just don't be stupid."

"Why would you do that?" Hermione asks suddenly but stills her tongue when I send her a quick look from under my eyebrows. The situation is more than a little fragile and any sort of strain could bring it tumbling down.

"Because I can." Nancy replies with a smug smile, pushing herself off from her leaning post and bending close to me, lowering her voice to barely more than a whisper. "Stay out of sight." She warns in a slow voice.

At the word 'beacon' I had looked down at the shiny silver badge in my grasp but as Nancy utters her softly spoken caution she makes to pass me by, my hand reaches out to lightly grasp at her upper arm. Not with enough pressure to hold her steady but positioned in such a way that it has the potential to do so. Though she stands maybe half a head shorter than me I am still able to look up at her in a semi submissive pose.

Submission and stoicism has its advantages. Visibility ranks high on that list. It takes less than a second for Nancy to realise that I am trying to glimpse the motives behind her actions; her face quickly is stripped of all emotion and thought but that spilt second had been enough. She may very well have things she needs to attend to but if that were the case it would be simple to attend to some of my personal needs, evict Hermione from my room and leave me to my incineration. This runs so much deeper; whatever she needs she thinks she needs it from me.

I hold her gaze for a few heartbeats, a silent exchange happening between us that neither of us fully understand, only knowing that we have been able to puzzle out what the other is trying to achieve. The reasoning behind them, are lost to both of us.

Whatever her play may be it currently appears that it is too my advantage so I don't openly question her. "You too." I reply.

"Oh I wouldn't worry about that." She says and begins to strut off down the corridor. She could stand in a room, surrounded by hundreds of people and no one would notice her standing in the shadows. "Be back for eight." Her voice echoes down the hallway and she disappears from sight.

"Okay." Hermione says slowly, her gaze following after Nancy but her stride brings her closer to me. "I think there were a lot of layers to that, which I didn't understand."

"Neither do I, yet." I respond and only offer her a vague smile to counter her confused look, turning over the broach once more then pushing it into my pocket for safe keeping. Whatever the other Slytherin is plotting will come to light only when she deems it necessary and the mere fact that she is actively throwing every perk she has at her disposal at my feet is enough to set my mind to rest. So I take a step forward, running my hands over the curve of her hips and drag her attention back to me, with a very satisfied grin plastered to over my face, body humming and alive with anticipation. "We may get that privacy after all."

She raises an eyebrow, trying to look stern over where my mind has ultimately lead to, but failing miserably as her hands are still shaking violently and the glazed look in her eye as they run over me is enough to indicate that she is thinking the same thing. "You look so choked up about it. What are you going to do about your beacon?"

"Have you seen Crookshanks around lately?"

~X~

I don't know who started it, possibly me but there's no way to be certain. Either way were grasping and clutching at each other as though we may never see one another again by the time we reach her Gryffindor prefect chambers. Her hands under my robes and scratching along my shoulders, mine hooked around her hips and pulling her against me through every step. I end up walking backwards for the most part, too lost in her scent to bother with anything as tiresome as looking where I'm going.

In honesty it wouldn't have been nearly as frustrating or difficult to reach our own private sanctuary, had we been able to keep our hands to ourselves. However to resist was just not an option, so as a consequence her back ends up pressed against her doorway with her lips far to occupied to utter her password. I know this to be a hindrance but it's far to important, just to keep kissing her, too keep pressing my body against hers to keep every form of contact I can when we are both so fully dressed, even if a little dishevelled.

It doesn't feel as though I can help it, the craving is so powerful, since the moment the suns rays graced my skin. It's overwhelming; that incessant need and nothing I do can quench it.

When she finally turns her head to the side I am forced to break the seal of our kiss, opting to run my lips along the curve of her jaw and raise my hands along the sides of her body, dipping beneath the thick woollen jumper and letting my thumbs explore her heated skin. Her password is spoken as a gentle whisper, almost lost in the symphony of ragged breathing but the door recognises the word and gives out from under us.

Our lips once more seal together and as one we both take an unsteady step into the room. My arms wrapping more squarely around her, in some strange need to keep her upright, when I feel certain that we have almost toppled because of my enthusiasm. It takes less than a moment for me to gather my bearing and with another awkward step I kick out behind me to close the door.

She seems to take the firm slam of the door as an indication to take the initiative, pressing her hips more fully against mine so I am forced to back up several tiny steps, until I find my back pressed up against the unyielding wood. The switch in dynamics may not have been wholly foreseen but isn't unwelcome, not when her hips have slanted to the side and press against me in a way that makes my eyes roll back behind my lids. One of my hands lands against the side of her neck, my thumb lightly pressed into her jaw line to prevent her turning away from me a second time.

I don't know if it's by accident but her teeth press against my bottom lip, the sharp outline stinging against the flesh and I feel myself growl. It's low and deep but to my ears not at all menacing. Not a threat or a warning but almost a call. The most primal half of my being calling out into the world and needing her just as much as I do.

My affection lavished on her lips becomes more zealous, messy and open mouthed, pushing her backwards until she collides with the first sturdy object in our path, which just happens to be her desk. Using what small amount is left of my rational thought, I send a quick thanks to any gods that are listening for her excessive neatness, the flat surface in question being entirely free of clutter negates any need to clear it and I quite simply, do not have the patience to make it all the way over to her bed.

Blindly I grope around at the clasp of her tight jeans, succeeding in finding the seam where the material meets but no amount of tugging will pull it lose, not when I am in such a state of desperation. With a grunt of irritation I pull back from her lips and focused on the seemingly insurmountable task of undressing her. Pulling at the button almost violently, the zip sliding down with unnecessary force. The flats of my palms run under the hem and push downwards, shifting the trousers along with her underwear to just past her knees. Her legs shift in her stance in an effort to aid me pulling them down and off her body but I can't wait, that hunger, that need driving me and with a small push she is perched on the edge of the desk.

Her jaw drops to make some form of feeble protest by my fingers are already gliding along the inside of her thighs. He knees drop open at the touch and I am able to press into her, my free hand reaching out to lean against the desk and my hips stepping between her parted thighs. For a moment she loses all breath, the intrusion halting everything with her for just a second but it isn't long before her fingers are once more weaving into the strands of my hair, tugging me forward into a deep and uncoordinated kiss. It's seconds before we find a rhythm, it's hard, it's fast and it's desperate. I can both feel and hear her moaning into my mouth, reaching out to clutch at any scrap of material that covers my back.

All of a sudden something over takes me, something I know I've forgotten and I can't let it lie. With a jerking movement I pull away from her lips, opening my eyes to watch hers chase mine. The movement of both my wrist and hips not halting for a moment but my free hand finds her cheek, the pad of my thumb running over her cheekbone. "Open your eyes." I say unsurprised to find myself breathless.

"What?" She replies, her face filled with confusion but still does as I ask, shocked that I would utter a single word in such an intimate moment.

Twisting my wrist I try to find another angle within her, pushing my thumb against the tiny bundle of nerves that forces her eyes closed again. "I want to see." I answer.

For a moment I don't think she understands, her mind lost to euphoria but comprehension soon clouds her eyes and she takes a firm grip on the back of my head, shifting and moving with each of my thrusts; so focused on gazing deep into my eyes, letting me watch those pupils blow wide within her iris that she all but forgets to utter a sound. Usually so vocal, but so focused on handing this part of herself over to me that all she can do is feel.

I see her orgasm before I feel it. It pushes her pupils skywards and her lids have no choice but to close. Less than a heartbeat later her grip on both my shoulder and my hair tightens to the point of pain and her inner muscles squeeze so tightly on my intruding digits that if I did not press so tightly into her they would be forced from inside of her.

She pitches forward as her body is thrown into ecstatic turmoil for a second time, her forehead pushing hard against my collarbone and this time she loses herself to her release, her vocal cords staining as she screams.

The angle she has put herself at forces me to still inside of her and it's probably a good thing I did, it's many seconds before I feel her breath explode against my neck. She had been holding it right at the back of her throat and as it cascades across my skin I feel myself shudder. The hunger for her dulled for now but in no way satisfied.

In the moments of calm that follow I press my lips against her unruly hair and slowly run my hand in circles over her back. Waiting for her to loosen her grip of me, to pry her fingers away from where they had latched onto. When they do her hands find my cheek and direct my sights downwards, her lips closing over mine in an embrace that feels equal parts grateful and relived.

Somehow, we do eventually make it over to her bed, depriving each other of our clothing along the way. Hours pass before a sleepless night and our energetic activates become too much for Hermione, dragging her down into a deep slumber. The beat of the midday sun preventing me from following her down into the depth of sleep but it does give me time to run both my gaze and the pads of my fingers over the marvel that I can share this bed with. Wondering what I must have done in this life or any other to be rewarded with such a companion.
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By The Light