Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Folie a Deux	By : SalonKitty Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 206364 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 10
Disclaimer: 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
- 6
- 7
- 8
Chapter 7

Right, that avoiding thing didn’t last very long.

Four days, to be exact.

It was easier over the weekend. Harry was busy with James and I made sure to spend every waking moment with Ron and Rose that I could. We went to the park, we went to Diagon Alley, took a jaunt through downtown London, I forced a visit to the British Library, and on and on until supper at the Burrow. And then it was like being at a function, talking to strangers in banalities with cocktail in hand as you ticked down the minutes before you could leave. I was surprised to find out that Harry wasn’t there, that he wasn’t even coming Ginny had informed me, and still I felt like I was giving a performance for everyone in the room. I imagined myself as a mock-up of Hermione Granger-Weasley: a cardboard silhouette that looked like me and sounded like me but had no ability for thought and emotion. It worked for a while. I could feel my lips moving and my voice projecting but I had no idea what I was saying, my gaze continually returning back to Rose regardless of whom I was speaking to, as though she were the only thing I could reasonably be expected to care about at the moment. By the time we left I was exhausted from the effort. Having Ginny talking to me directly was almost more than I could bear, and more than a few times I’d had to excuse myself from the conversation on the pretext that Rose needed attending.

Once we were home, Ron was giving me more of those looks, and while I was sure that I had come across as incredibly aloof to the rest of the family what were my options, really? I was terrified that my body language would betray me more than I was worried about what came out of my mouth. As Harry had so duly noted, I acted differently around him and now, all of a sudden, I had to wonder who else could pick up on that, who else was watching me that carefully? But I calmed down later that evening once I realized that I had other means of distraction at my disposal, that I could use my body in ways that didn’t have to conceal my desires but emphasized them, instead. It didn’t take much at all to get Ron into bed early and then spend the rest of the night working out my frustrations on him. I’d say the exercise was mutually appreciated for Ron was all smiles the next morning; I could barely get him into the Floo to get to work on time he was so amorous. I felt that at least the exchange would go a long way in building up goodwill between the two of us, if nothing else. It didn’t have to matter what I was thinking about while we were doing it, right? When he returned home that night it was quite late and he looked wiped out, but I communicated my eagerness once again with a look and a touch and that was all that was required. The sex was frantic and hushed, except for the occasional grunt or wayward moan, and Ron fell asleep immediately after which was just as well. I spent a lot of time staring into the darkness, waiting for an answer to appear in front of me, in big white letters like a movie screen coming into focus. But no moment of clarity arrived. I still felt like ants were running amuck through my insides, still felt like I hadn’t really satisfied that gnawing hunger that had wormed its way into every cell of my body.

When I finally saw Harry again, it was in the middle of a Tuesday, when he and Ron were supposed to be at work.

I was startled to hear footsteps clambering into the sitting room and I rushed out from the kitchen to find out who was dropping by for an unannounced visit with my hair clipped to the top of my head in a messy bundle and a grotty tee-shirt covered in wet blotches from Rose’s sick-up. I looked a fright, but I hadn’t expected to see my husband so early in the day, and I surely hadn’t expected to see a sheepish-looking Harry come tumbling out of the fireplace to stand next to him while dusting Floo powder off his robes. Right away my face heated up as I pulled the clip from my tangled hair and combed my fingers through it in a harried manner, the attempt to make my appearance less horrid a futile effort. Before I could exclaim my surprise, Ron was heading towards me and the kitchen doorway.

            “Hermione, we’re starving! Can you get us some sandwiches while I run upstairs? Harry and I have some documents we have to go over and thought we’d have lunch here. You don’t mind, right?”

The last part he asked while he waltzed by me, turning his head with a smile, but his stride maintaining his path to the refrigerator. This wasn’t the type of electrical appliance I grew up with in my parent’s house, being little more than a cupboard with a permanent Cooling Charm on it, and he swung open the door and pulled out a few bottles. He handed one to Harry after we’d followed him into the kitchen and then turned to drop his hand to my shoulder as he leaned in for a bold kiss. He even grabbed hold of my arse while doing it. I was mortified in the moment knowing that Harry was witnessing the display, and when I pulled away from Ron I turned to face the cupboards, dragging out the bread bag and jerkily throwing open doors to collect some sandwich fillings.

            “What are you doing here?” I blurted, still feeling put out that I hadn’t been given any notice to prepare for their arrival. Being in the same room as Harry after my little reprieve was unsettling, to say the least.

            “I just told you. Got to find my notes on the Borgin case and I think I left them in my old briefcase. We’re trying to match up some signatures.” He glanced over at Harry and made a face. “Something wrong, mate?”

I gazed over my shoulder to catch his expression. Harry was standing stiffly by a chair looking as comfortable as someone trapped in a pen with a dozen Blast-Ended Skrewts.

Instantly, his face went blank.

“No, not at all,” Harry offered casually. After a pause, he shrugged his shoulders, his body loosening up but eyes still fixed on Ron. “My mind’s on the case, I guess.”

Ron gave a short nod in a manner of understanding, looking absent himself for a moment.

            “Right, well, I’ll be right back. Hermione, have we got any more of that roast beef?”

But he didn’t wait for an answer, heading instead for the foyer before taking hold of the banister and running up the stairs. I stood watching him disappear from view, hesitant to turn around.

            “Need some help with lunch?”

Harry murmured right in my ear and I jumped about a foot in the air.

            “Oh, sorry! Didn’t mean to startle you.”

He’d taken a step back from me as I hurled myself around to face him. I must have looked ridiculous, the muscles behind my eyeballs feeling stretched while I gaped back. His voice went quiet then as he studied me through narrowed eyes.

            “You all right? Do you want me to leave? I tried to get out of it but—”

He never finished for the next second I had thrown my arms around his neck and kissed him rather intently. His hands went straight to my bum, palms curving over each swell as he pressed me into his groin, all while he kissed me back just as voraciously. We stood there entwined for a sizable moment before I heard thumping on the upstairs landing. Immediately, I pressed my palms to his chest and pushed him away. It was forceful enough for him to back into the table with a hard bump, a chair tipping to the side dangerously before it righted itself. I busied myself with flopping bread slices on the counter and layering them with meat, but my heart was still racing as Ron strode back into the room.

            “Well, I found the right file, but I can’t find—Oi! What’s wrong with you now?”

I didn’t bother to look this time but I could hear Harry’s flustered stammering of an excuse, which consisted of a lot of ‘Nothing!’ and ‘what?’ As soon as I could get their food finished and plated, I was making my own excuses as I rushed out of the kitchen. Rose was down for her nap, but I made reference to errands I had to run that day and then headed upstairs for the shower.

By the time I was dressed and walking towards Rose’s room, I could hear their voices coming from the office. The room was meant to be a third bedroom, but was ideal for our shared work space as it was closer to the baby. We’d converted the tiny laundry room behind the dining area into a guest bedroom through magical means, and it extended enough into the garden that the light through the trees in the morning came through the windows in a most spectacular way.

I could hear them squabbling over something but I didn’t pause to listen. When I emerged with Rose a quarter hour later, they were still in there, but I called out my goodbyes before escaping through the front door. I put Rose in her pram and left for the market, enjoying the soothing warmth of the sun on my skin settling my nerves as we made our way down the street. Our neighbourhood is quite lovely, really. I love walking around it.   There were a few young couples on our block at the time, while the rest were families, but they’re all the friendliest sort of people you’d ever want to meet. The witch who lived across from us with her husband and two kids was out on the stoop potting some seedlings and she gave me a wave as I strolled by. I hadn’t imagined I would grow to love it so much when we first moved, but the entire enclave is so progressive it made me feel immediately at home.

After the war was over, there was a lot of emphasis on Muggleborn and Muggle acceptance, as would be expected, and I admit that I was something at the forefront of that movement along with Harry. Places started to pop up that catered to those of us with an affinity and familiarity of Muggle culture. Some wizarding pubs started up their version of internet cafes, whereby witches and wizards who wanted to spend some time on the World Wide Web could do so on a magical contraption. There were places that had ‘movie night’, in an attempt to introduce some wizards to the joys of the cinematic screen, and which proved to be quite an education in their own right. Obviously, fantasies went over quite big with most of the crowds that tended to show up at those things, but what was surprising was that it was the historical dramas that took hold of their fancy. Films like Braveheart and Rob Roy were instant hits when they first appeared.

Of course, we never took it far enough to breach the Statute of Secrecy, but it was really a fascinating time to see the changes in attitude. Children, in particular, were eager for more Muggle-watching opportunities, and to hear how Muggleborn students showing up at Hogwarts for their first year were rewarded an instant cachet of coolness was electrifying. To be Muggleborn was the new black, it seemed.

The newer neighbourhoods that began to sprout also reflected a changing of the old guard. When Ron and I went looking for a house, he wanted to stay near Ottery St. Catchpole, but I had put in a diligent hunt until I found the perfect melange of magical and modern in the community we now lived in, thirty kilometres outside of London. We didn’t have to hide our homes from the Muggle world, but there was a sense of freedom therein that we were something of a new breed. A wizarding preschool had opened up just last year, not even two blocks over from us, and I had every intention of sending Rose there when she was old enough (which I did, in fact, and she loved it). Some of us were busy professionals, after all, and didn’t have servants that could prepare our children for their entry into whichever magical school was selected for their education. I wanted Rose to have the best schooling we could afford, and I wanted her to have every opportunity to realize her potential. It was exciting to see these vistas of promise looming ahead. The world couldn’t change fast enough for us then, it seemed.

So we strolled on till we reached a lovely market in the middle of the square, surrounded by about a dozen shops. It made it a nice way to get out of the house without having to Apparate somewhere or use the Floo just to get a carton of milk. The produce was some of the best and freshest around, and Polly, the florist, always had a gorgeous rigging on her cart of her cut flowers for the day, a spray of vibrant colour that caught your eye from several blocks away. I reckoned I needed the cool breeze of the outdoors to snap my thoughts back into the realm of reason. I couldn’t have sex with Harry again, I kept repeating to myself ad nauseam. Even though I wanted to with every molecule of my being, it was madness to continue it. As Harry had said, we were walking into a disaster waiting to happen.

But that didn’t mean I could stop thinking about us together. There was no off button to be utilised in such matters. Visions of Harry’s body flashed into my mind at any given moment, the way his hands had felt on my body, his command of it, and that voice that had goaded me on to things I’d never imagined doing. The more those scenes replayed in my thoughts, the more I started to realise that I wanted to give in, wanted to answer to him and perform whatever he wanted of me as long as I could feel Harry’s approval pour over me at the end. For there was no doubt in my mind anymore; I didn’t just crave his validation, I needed it. I felt as though it were essential to my very identity; that I couldn’t move forward without it. My tenuous hold onto sanity demanded it, and yet I knew—absolutely knew—that to proceed down that path would destroy me and everyone I cared about.

So, you see my conundrum? ‘Twas quite a pickle I was in.

As soon as I was in the foyer again, I breathed a sigh of relief that they were no longer in the house. I took a nap with Rose that afternoon, letting her fall asleep with me in my bed, and then started preparations for dinner upon waking. I’d felt refreshed. Whatever dreams had flittered over my consciousness had left me determined. I was Hermione Granger-Weasley. I could do anything, that’s what everybody said. Harry was my friend, Ron was my husband, and I needed to put some perspective into the situation. I was being too deep when there was no cause for it, I told myself. I’d let my emotions spiral out of hand, had allowed some leftover hormones to control my life, but no more. I sliced up the eggplant with a renewed focus and by the time Ron was home, my smile felt fully genuine as I turned up to face him.

            “That’s what I like to see,” he’d rumbled, rubbing a thumb over my chin as he took hold of my cheek.

When he leaned down to kiss me, the second my eyes closed I could see Harry bending his head to mine.

Didn’t last very long, did it?

I was in my office when the mobile went buzzing. Ron and his dad were downstairs watching telly again, and Rose had been put to bed, but I held my head stock still to listen for sounds in the hallway before I picked it up. I could see his name in that bold Courier font on the face and briefly considered not answering it, but that lasted all of a blink and then I was whispering his name into the receiver.

There was no reply, but I could hear him breathing heavily.

            “Harry? Are you there? Is everything alright?”

Still, it was silent on the other end, but then I heard him huff after another pause. When he spoke, his words came out broken and scratchy.

            “Do you,” he cleared his throat soundly, “do you think you can find a—find a way to...” His voice lingered off and I had to prompt him again.

            “Find a way to what, Harry?”

            “Can you come over?” he forced out of that throat. He sounded terrible, like he’d spent the last few hours screaming himself hoarse.

Instantly, a flush came over my whole frame, starting from the top and working its way down, like wading through the warm water of the ocean only to step into an icy current, the two temperatures colliding leaving you tingly and breathless. Harry wanted me and it was as though someone had poured Felix Felicis right into my brain. But there was no excuse I could come up that would explain a way out of the house that night.

            “Harry,” I gulped, “I’m sorry, I can’t. There’s no possible way...I—Arthur’s here. It’s not a good idea.”

He let out a soldiering breath, as if he’d been hoping for that very outcome.

            “Right, good. It’s...fine. Just as well.”

            “What about tomorrow afternoon?”

The query left my lips before I even had time to think about what I was asking and we were both quiet for several long moments before his halting answer came over the phone.

            “Alright, but...I...I’ve got a debriefing first thing in the morning...and then a meeting with some of the Ministry higher-ups. I—I can’t break away for lunch, but...” he seemed to be thinking some more, “meet me at Grimmauld around three o’clock. I can get out early. Can you...”

He took yet another pause and I darted a glance at the door, hoping I wouldn’t see Ron standing there staring at me oddly while Harry spent an eternity finishing this conversation.

            “What is it, Harry? I have to go,” I whispered with some irritation.

            “Can you get Molly or your mother to watch Rose?”

Again, my breath caught, feeling like my hands were pressed against my throat and chest. I was instantly aroused, a tickle between my legs making me want to suck on the end of the thumb so close to my mouth.

            “Yes,” I hissed, wishing I was climbing into his lap right at that moment. Ron was going to have another enjoyable night, for sure.

            “Three o’clock,” he repeated and then the mobile went dead.

I shut the phone in half and dropped it on my desk, one hand worming its way to my crotch. God, I was a slag.

It took forever for Ron to finally say goodnight to his dad and then make his way up the stairs. I was ready to pounce once he’d walked into the room and as soon as he’d done his clean-up in the bathroom and slid under the sheets, I was all over him. I did not take it well when Ron rebuffed my clear intentions, however, claiming that he was exhausted and needed to be tip top bright and early for his meeting. He just laughed at my little tiff and then rolled over after kissing me on the cheek. I lay in bed for another interminable hour before his snores signalled his slumber and I could make my way to the downstairs guestroom. My wanking was at a fevered pitch, and for the first time, I felt gloriously without shame afterward. Pinching my breasts and my thighs throughout had only increased my excitement and I was dizzy by my climax wondering what Harry had in store for me. All of my emotional angst from earlier had fled in the face of my desire, and after it was all done I went back to my bed and slept like the dead.

As the afternoon grew closer the following day, a continuous thrumming seemed to nestle in my abdomen. The warmth fanned across my bits and up into my torso as the time neared three until I was all but panting to leave. I took Rose to Molly’s a half hour early—I’d made arrangements for her to watch the baby as soon as I’d cleaned up after breakfast. I cited some story about holistic healing through magic and that I’d made an appointment with a former Unspeakable-turned-chakra healer to help me feel more like myself. Molly was thrilled to hear it, of course, although she was sceptical on the practice. The fact was, I had actually read up on this particular healer, I just hadn’t got round to calling her office, yet. And I certainly wouldn’t be doing so on that day.

When I got back home, I changed into a different outfit for the rendezvous. And it was quite a change. I chose a strapless summer dress in white that sported iridescent butterflies of purple and pink in a chiffon overlay; a recent purchase. Strings sprouted from the centre of the bodice to tie around the back of my neck, pulling it taut, while the very clingy fabric of the bottom layer moulded around my breasts and hips and arse leaving little to the imagination, so I made sure to wear nothing underneath. I sauntered into the bathroom and tended to my makeup, elaborating the colour I used on my lips and eyes until I appeared doll-like; a model stepping into a fashion shoot of surreal slickness. I was putting on a mask, I decided, as I thickened my eyelashes to spider legs. I wasn’t Hermione, and I wasn’t on my way to meet one of my oldest friends for a dirty shag. Instead, Harry was a dark, brooding stranger and I...I was someone else. I wasn’t anyone’s mother, and I wasn’t anyone’s wife. I wasn’t even human, but a creation altogether new. I slapped a hand to the tiled wall as my gasp sucked all the air out of my lungs, attempting to hold myself up as I envisaged this transformation into something unrecognizable. When I could breathe again, I resumed teasing my hair until it was a halo of frizzy curls surrounding my head.

The last bit of my costume was the strappy high heels of sparkly magenta I slipped on at the end. I bought the shoes a few years back specifically to match an evening gown for some celebration and I doubt I’d worn them since. Not only were the heels ridiculously tall, but the colour was a bit too garish for my usual tastes. And yet garish was exactly what I wanted right then, as if the artifice of my appearance would hide my sin, somehow. I clopped down the stairs, holding on to the railing for support, and when I stood before the fireplace I took another deep breath before bending for the powder and stepping inside. I called out the address in a strong, clear demand.

When I exited Harry’s Floo and stepped off the hearth, the first thing I noticed was the music. It was quite loud, in fact, and I was chagrined as well as intrigued by the inclusion of it. I didn’t think Harry had followed any modern bands, let alone listen to them. I left the kitchen to walk up the steps and through the hallway until I reached the second set of stairs to the drawing room. The song was full of swirly electronic sounds and a syncopated bassline and when I heard the singer finally, the woman’s voice was dreamy and seductive and seemed to beckon me to come closer. I ran lightly through the sitting room, careful of my staggering footwear, and eagerly moved up the third staircase. As I reached the landing, the music was clearly coming from Harry’s room and I slowed as I headed towards the open doorway.

Wonderful electriiiiic, she moaned, and the twiddles of guitar and hand claps urged me on. As I stepped across the threshold, I was taken in at once by the sight of Harry sitting on a dining room chair near his bed. He was clad in nothing but his boxers, a rolled up cigarette dangling from his lips as a foot rested on the bed and his hands busy with what appeared to be his old Gryffindor school ties. Of course, I could tell right away by the aroma that it wasn’t really a cigarette at all, but I was more intent on what he was doing with the ties. The music was apparently blasting from what looked like a cd player on his nightstand, but there was no cord protruding from anywhere. Harry stretched one tie between his hands to test its give before he eventually saw me standing there. He froze comically for a moment, his eyes widening and the spliff looking like it might fall from his mouth as it dropped open. The next second he recovered, quickly pulling the fag away to crush into an ashtray. He stood up but continued to stare at me for a few moments, both of us silent as the singer wrapped her voice around the room.

I’m in looove, I’m in looove, I’m in love with a strict machine

            “This is interesting. What are you listening to?” I asked him with an arch of an eyebrow, my humour evident in the corner lift of my mouth.

I was somewhat drowned out by the music, and Harry fiddled with a button to turn its volume down until it was only minimally in the background.

            “Uh, just discovered it recently...you look...fantastic. I love your hair.”

I slid a few fingers through the mass of curls, teasing them even further.

            “Well, you didn’t particularly see me at my best yesterday. I suppose I’m trying to make up for it.”

Harry gaped at me for another beat before shaking his head.

            “Hermione, you could be dressed in a bin bag and I’d still want to fuck your brains out.” He tossed his ties to the bed and then stared me down with a firm set of his jaw. “Come here.”

I strode over to him languorously; my eyes glued to his the entire walk. The muscles in the back of my legs were already feeling tight from the strain of walking in such high heels, but I found it quite satisfying to be on the same eye-level as Harry, our heights momentarily matched. A hand closed around the back of my head and Harry pulled me into a hard kiss. I slid my palms up his back as it deepened; feeling a buzzing in my head like a swarm of bees that grew louder with each grope he gave my body. He dragged his mouth across my cheek, smearing my lipstick along the bone then dipping his head down to paint my neck and sternum with his lips. He reared back just as he grazed the tops of my breasts and I could see his lips were the same glossy red as mine but he didn’t seem to care. Fascinated, I reached up to his mouth intending to wipe it away with the pad of my thumb when Harry took hold of my hand and slipped the middle finger into his mouth, shocking me as he began sucking on it as though he were fellating me.

I felt another thrill run up my back and exit through my tits as he split the rest of the fingers away from the one in his mouth, his teeth grazing a knuckle and the flesh under his tongue going tight as he sucked harder. I cried out as the pressure increased, the bald desire that spilled out of him left me spinning. I was enthralled by this Harry and everything he elicited from me but it was still terrifying to be stepping into the unknown. Harry had always been a wild card and that hadn’t appeared to have changed. I had no idea what to expect next.

When he stopped suddenly and put his hands to my hips, it took me a few beats to catch up with the action and I stared at him with my finger still extended, wet and tingling, as I waited to take my cue from him. He pushed me back a step so he could look to my feet before his gaze swept up to my face.

            “I’m glad that you came,” he croaked. “I know that I shouldn’t be, but Merlin help me, I am, anyway.”

I could only nod my head in agreement and then let him circle his arms around my waist as he pressed me to him. He kissed me again and I grabbed him tightly, but he was smirking at me when he drew back. He motioned his head in the direction of the wall behind me and I turned toward it.

            “Don’t you look the very model of debauched? And I’ve barely started on you, yet.”

There was a mirror behind us; one that I’d never noticed in there before. It had to have been moved from somewhere else in the house for the size was too large to be meant for a bedroom; it stood on the floor and propped against most of the wall. The gilt frame was carved with an acanthus border with palmettes at the corners, and while the glass was brackish in spots from age I could see mine and Harry’s reflections crystal clear. The smeared lipstick on my face and neck left me appearing more clownish than sexy. I winced at the image but when I raised my hand to wipe my cheek Harry grabbed my wrist.

            “No, no, no. That’s for me to take care of. You’re going to stand in front of here first.”

He directed me to a spot about a foot from the glass and then brought the chair to rest right behind me. I turned to see what he was up to, but Harry took hold of my chin and twisted my head until I faced the mirror again.

            “Eyes to the front, luv, with hands on your hips. And spread your feet a bit wider.”

I did as I was told, but not without some apprehension. My skin felt warm, but when Harry slid his hand down my arm and then held tight to my wrist it provoked little flares from my flesh as though they were coming off of the sun. I watched his reflection steadily. When he pushed his pants down his hips and let them drop to the floor, I got to see the effect of my eyes going huge firsthand. His cock sprang up to greet me, hard and proud. There was a slight tug on my arm and my attention went back to his face, his smile wicked.

            “Do you see what you do to me? That’s all for you.”

He pulled my arm backward until he could wrap my hand around his erection and I squeezed it reflexively, thrilling at the sound of his moan and the hot, thick, steeliness of him. At the same time, he’d curved around my back so his left hand slid over my hip and reached down far enough to snake into the space between my legs, bunching the material of the dress so that the vee of my cunt was outlined and the butterflies seemed to fold into each other. I stared in the mirror in fascination, moving my feet farther apart as his fingers dug deeper. His grope froze for a moment, but then he snickered just as he began gathering the dress into his grip, pulling it higher like a swag curtain being lifted up the centre. When it was high enough that we could both see a peek of flesh, the fingers disappeared over the mound until he was inside of me.

            “Ever thoughtful as always, aren’t you, darling?” he breathed into my ear. “I think I’m in love with the idea of you walking around in public knicker-less, now. Can you just wear this outfit all the time?”

I laughed in the back of my throat as I let my head fall back, taking another step outward so that Harry could push deeper.

            “I don’t think that would be too prudent, Harry. We’re having enough trouble, as it is.”

I stroked his cock lightly as I spoke, loving the tightness of the silky skin. The shaft was long enough that the glide of my fingers traversing the head to the root was a slow breath, inhale to exhale, so that the rhythm of it turned hypnotic after a few moments. It certainly added to our mutual induced state that his pace matched my own as he continued to finger me. He sucked in his breath through his teeth and my eyes startled open.

            “God, you’re so wet. I keep thinking about the way you taste, how much I want to wedge my head between your thighs; it’s been driving me mad.”

I felt him move behind me and when I cast my gaze to our reflection I saw him kneel down to the floor, his legs spread to either side of my high-heeled foot. His hands stroked upwards toward my thigh until fingers disappeared under the skirt and I could feel them make their way back inside me. He pulled one hand to his face after a moment, sucking the wetness there into his mouth. I stood still and let him do it a few more times before he decided to slide the dress up my legs and above my hips. I moaned as he kept going, until the material was bunched over my breasts; Harry holding it there with one hand while the other fiddled under my hair to loosen the tie around my neck. When the knot was free, he dragged the dress over my head and draped it over the back of the chair, his hands quickly returning to my hips as we both stared at my body in the mirror.

            “You’re utterly gorgeous, Hermione. I love your body. Merlin, I love these tits.”

His hands had been roaming the front of me and had now moved to cup both breasts; hoisting them up then squeezing them tightly. I clasped his hands in my own.

            “What do you want, Harry?” My voice had turned husky. “What are you planning on doing to me?”

In answer, Harry shifted behind me and sat down on the chair. His head poked from the side of my hip as he guided me backwards, causing me to straddle my legs even more as I stood over his lap. Harry held his cock up straight, the heel of his palm exerting pressure to the flank of my torso. I grabbed the sidebar of the chair behind me to steady myself as I began to lower my weight down.

            “Go slow. I want to see it all.”

It was difficult to not want to drop right on him the moment I felt the head of his cock push into me. Harry spread his legs wide so we had a full view of his hard-on disappearing into my body, his bollocks tight in anticipation, and I slid down as slowly as I could manage. Even still, my groans certainly indicated how I felt about the delay. When I was finally seated on his lap, thigh to thigh, it was all I could do to keep from crying out. Harry felt so hot inside of me, such a welcome guest, that the muscles of my cunt contracted happily, squeezing around that intrusion like it was holding on for dear life. Harry responded with a drawn out groan that sounded highly appreciative. One hand was back to fondling my breast, but I could feel him twist to the side, his arm outstretched. In a flash, I heard the cutting sound of something flying through the air and then the poke of Harry’s wand against my shoulder.

            “Are you doing wandless magic, now?” I asked in surprise as I tried to turn to face him.

He straightened my head back towards the mirror.

            “Only a few, minor things, luv; no need to get excited. I still need it to perform the big stuff. Like this,” and I watched as his lips moved silently while his wand did the familiar flick and swish of a Levitation charm.

Instantly, my body went weightless and I immediately shot out my hands to hold on to him. Harry dropped his wand to the floor and then went back to perusing my skin, one hand gripping my waist.

            “Don’t worry; I won’t let you float away. I’ve got you.”

With very little effort he was able to get me moving up and down his knob. I could suddenly see the appeal, but the spell left me feeling strange, all sensation and little solidity. Harry shifted again so that his bum slid to the end of his seat, bringing me with him, and we could both watch the peek-a-boo show of his prick. After a few moments, his gaze lazily moved to my hypnotized expression. It was just as odd staring at him in the glass instead of face-to-face, as though the removal of that immediacy made it less real, somehow.

            “I can’t believe that’s you,” he muttered. A sad smile crept upon his face. “I just need to see it, to prove that this is happening. I can’t keep pretending anymore.”

I understood what he meant so I said nothing, just let him move me along. Soon, both arms wrapped around my waist as he pulled me into him, speeding up each downward thrust into quick jabs. He leant my body forward a bit and I slipped my feet around the rungs of the chair instinctively to keep from tipping over.

            “Should—should I take off my shoes?”

It was an odd question in context but it had suddenly seemed awfully important that I clarify such a thing.

            “No, leave them on,” Harry insisted.

He fucked me harder for another few moments before stopping altogether, his hands moving to grip each of my arms.

            “I’d...uh...like to tie your hands, if that’s okay?”

My whole body went hot again and I shivered slightly. Part of me had been expecting this type of request to show up at some point but I hadn’t really thought out what my reaction would be when it happened. I didn’t answer right away, although I reached to take hold of Harry’s side, feeling comforted by his warm skin. Still, a little tying up wasn’t exactly the kinkiest thing in the world and it would hardly require much of an effort on my part.

            “I...suppose that would be alright,” I agreed, not sure what I was getting myself into.

            “Put your hands around my back and clasp your fingers together,” he instructed and I heeded in kind, still staring straight at his reflection as he busied himself with acquiring his school ties and then puttering behind us as I felt the silky material close around my wrists.

            “Tell me if it’s too tight.”

I shook my head at him as he knotted it, rather enjoying the pinched feeling and the sudden inability to break apart my hands. There was another tingling in my breasts as he finished and, thoughtlessly, my insides gripped his cock tighter. His eyes sprang to meet mine.

            “Like that, eh?”

I didn’t know what to say, so I shook my head again in embarrassment. Harry’s smile turned calculating as he took hold of my tits once more, his fingers pressing around my hardened nipples and then pulling them taut, as if he were trying to stretch them to the glass itself. All kinds of moans and whimpers left me as I struggled with the way he was making me feel. His right leg jolted up, lifting his bum off the chair and bopping me upwards in the process. He did it a few more times until I was bouncing on his cock with seemingly no propulsion. While he continued to abuse one tit, a hand had slipped to the back of my head, fisting around my hair until the pressure grew painful, pulling me backwards until my body bowed, my cunt gripping him tight enough to snap his cock in half. I worried about being let go, about rising like a balloon until I hit the ceiling, but then I felt my hands grasping at air, secure in their knotted place at the small of Harry’s back. I was bouncing quite vigorously by then and Harry seemed to fill me more with every landing.

            “Fuck...in...’ell,” he exhorted, his hand leaving my breast and moving lower.

When it got to my bits, he tilted my head down, still holding my hair in a death grip, but making sure I could see what he was doing as his fingers spread the puffy lips of my sex apart, revealing the bright pink bud like the pearl of an oyster. His cock had slowed its pumping, but it still moved inside me as I watched him diddle me. He bent me forward some more and my bound wrists pressed up against his back. Harry moulded himself around me as he increased our pace again, making me slam on his groin harder each time, fingers still rubbing me off while another couple slipped into my mouth. I was startled by the action, so caught up in my lust at that point, but I quickly started to suck on them the way Harry had been doing to me earlier. I moaned around them in long fits, letting him slide them deeper to the back of my throat while he fucked me into another delirious state. My eyes were shut tight as I let everything wash over me, the feel and smell and taste of him, the sound of me slapping up and down on his thighs as he pinched and prodded my clitoris until it was there once more, like a looming train in a dream moments before it slams into you and you wake up, and then I heard that blissful roar of an ocean’s wave ringing in my ears, a shedding of sound as I exploded into orgasm.

As soon as I was able to open my eyes again, I saw him staring back at me in the mirror. While I wouldn’t say he look awed by the whole thing, there was a graveness there that I took for profundity. Some sort of understanding passed between us as we absorbed each other through the glass, both of us panting noisily. Then Harry broke the contact by leaning forward to kiss my shoulder. He hefted his wand and muttered behind him and I felt the tie go slack, my hands free. Before I could even stretch them out, however, Harry was already lifting me off of his still swollen and stiff cock. He stood up and I panicked for a moment, that weightlessness messing with my equilibrium as I felt myself hover. Harry twisted me around until I was facing him, and then wrapped my legs around him, carrying me to the bed as he nuzzled my neck. He took the charm off before he set me down so that I fell to the mattress with a loud thump, feeling like a sinking stone.

            “I’m going to tie your hands to the bed, but I want to add a gag. It won’t be too uncomfortable, I promise.”

I nodded in permission, not trusting myself to speak intelligibly, and he went to work. I wondered about the significance of the Gryffindor ties; if this was some old school fantasy of his. It was odd to think of the Harry I knew at Hogwarts wanking off in his dorm to images of bondage, but I supposed it was possible. Still, there was a duality at work in Harry that had my brain in overdrive even as he pummelled me again. He wanted to tie me up and gag me, yet he worshipped my body as though he were a servant of it. Even while he fucked me, his eyes were fixed on mine, watching for every little reaction I gave him and then pouncing on it, egging me on with his sex chat, altering the direction of his prick as he sought to disembowel me with every deep plunge. His tie cut through my opened mouth so I could groan around it, and groan plenty I did. When he finally came, I was right there with him.

Later, as we lay sprawled on his bed in exhaustion, a languidness seeping into my bones as we were both lost to our thoughts, I asked him about it.

            “Er, I don’t remember, really. Nothing that stands out. I mean...I suppose I had a bit of a...well, I guess you’d call it a delayed trauma of sorts. After what happened at the end of fourth year,” he commented darkly. “There were lots of bad dreams that summer...even before I started having that recurring one Voldemort had fucking planted in my head.”

            “What kind of dreams?” I heard my voice quicken with a certain excitement, already my bottom half divining some interest in the subject.

            “Aside from the ones where I kept seeing Cedric die in front of my eyes? Um, I would say they were more suggestive than anything. No real, concrete visions, but more like a flood of sensations, of being tied up on that gravestone and seeing Voldemort’s eyes burning into mine, feeling like I was on fire, aware that I was powerless and couldn’t move. That sort of stuff. My brain would re-enact him touching my scar and I could feel the agony all over again. I do recall being slightly disturbed that it was...well, I was aroused a bit. I’d wake up with...uh, you know, totally embarrassing, but my sheets would be sticky.”

            “You mean nocturnal emissions? But that’s standard for a boy of your age at the time. It didn’t necessarily mean you got off on it.”

            “Well, that’s what it felt like. What did I know? But I hated how he’d made me feel so weak, how I couldn’t fight back like that in such a stranglehold, and I’d awaken every morning bleeding pissed off. I don’t know how the lot of you could stand me that year.”

            “And when was the first time you thought about tying someone else up?” Theories crowded my head as I gazed at the ceiling but it was quiet next to me for a stretch.

            “In the tent,” he finally answered. There was another pause, but he didn’t need to expound much for me to understand where his mind was at during that time. “I was annoyed with something you’d said to me, and Ron was being a royal prat, and we were all having a right miserable time of it. And then....it was just there, this picture of you both, tied spread-eagled to your camp beds while I stood over you. I think you both might have been in your underwear, but I can’t be completely sure. It—it made me feel better. For about ten seconds. And then I felt like shit.”

I felt him move on the bed before he was up on his side and peering down at me, his expression concerned.

            “Do you think that’s part of it? Why I’m like this?”

            “Your need to be in control of other’s impulses? Role-playing as a way to take back your power? Yes, I think it has a lot to do with it.” I reached up to brush back his bangs, the hair falling into his eyes without his glasses to hold them at bay. “You went through quite an experience, Harry, one most people would never have to deal with, let alone a fourteen year old boy.”

He stared at me for a while, his green eyes glittering as he thought about my comments. Then his gaze stretched along the length of me, seeming to take in every detail of my nudity.

            “I’d forgotten about that vision. I remember now, how it freaked me out at the time. Must have blocked it from my memory.”

            “When was the next time you actively thought about doing that, though? When you were with Ginny after the war?”

            “Yeah,” he mumbled, looking distracted. His eyes shone upon mine. “But by then, we’d been having sex quite a lot, and it was clear that I was—well, we were both aware that I was really into it. Dominating her, I mean. She didn’t mind it when I held her down, so...eventually, my thoughts turned to other ways to get the same effect.”

He looked off into the distance again, his elbow crooked on the bed with his head resting against his upturned hand.

            “The school ties don’t really mean anything, I don’t think. Other than...I suppose they represent a sort of innocence. Maybe I felt I’d needed some good old Gryffindor courage before I could use them on her, I don’t know. I mean, it’s standard gear to start off with; bondage for the fledgling set. I wanted to make sure she was as committed as I was before I got any fancy equipment.”

            “Why’d you use them on me, then? Why not your fancy equipment?”

He flashed a grin before looking back down at me.

            “Because...I wanted to start at the beginning. See how you felt about it; if you liked it, at all. I don’t want to scare you off, just yet.”

Just as instantly, his smile turned grim and I felt the heavy weight of what we were doing land on my chest again.

            “Fuck, what am I doing?” he muttered, rubbing at his eyes.

            “I found it...interesting. I liked the—I don’t know, security of it, I suppose? Like you had me safe in your grip, and you wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me.” He gaped at me in disbelief. “Or am I being naive? Should I be worried, Harry?” I cracked a smile to lighten the mood.

            “Oh, you should be worried, alright,” he deadpanned, but I wasn’t sure if he was teasing or dead serious.

Then his hands were running over my torso, lightly pinching at my nipples, and one hand slithering down to my quim where he cupped it with a gentle squeeze.

            “I keep seeing you adorned in my daydreams. Dressed up in thigh-high boots and wearing my collar. God, the things I could do to your breasts alone.”

He bent down to lightly bite at a nipple and I squealed unintentionally. But my heart was already racing, wanting him to fuck me again.

            “Is that what you would do to Ginny?” I gasped, while he continued to fondle me, “before she took all the piercings out?”

His head reared back in surprise, looking flabbergasted for a moment. Then he narrowed his gaze, his eyebrows furrowed.

            “She told you that?” I nodded my head. “C’or, you girls don’t keep anything to yourselves, do you?” He circled my bellybutton a few times with a finger before he answered, turning to me with a sheepish smile.

            “You could say I went a bit overboard on that, definitely. It’s like...eating biscuits at tea; you can’t stop at just one.” His grin broadened and I smirked back. “She had quite a collection. Whatever patch on her body that I thought would look good with some...measure of, what? Ownership? Is that what I was trying to do? Enforce the idea that she was mine by tagging her?”

            “Well, I heard it wasn’t just her. There was mention of some tattoos and jewellery on your bits, as well, but I’ve yet to see proof of that.”

Harry laughed out loud.

            “Right, well, I was young and impressionable. Being back in the lockers during my Auror training brought me up sharp, though. It was bothersome having to cover it all up, after a while. I suppose when she put her foot down before Jamie was born...I followed her lead thinking that I was doing it in some sort of solidarity. I thought perhaps that if I removed the symbols of it, of what I was, what I wanted, that I could remove the desire for it.” He turned wistful. “Not so much, though.”

Harry bent down to my face again and for a moment I thought he was going to kiss me, but then he stopped above my mouth and whispered.

            “I kept one of them.”

I breathed in deeply to fill my head with his scent, my back arching the slightest bit upward so that my tits could reach for his touch.

            “Kept what? A tattoo?” I murmured back.

            “Yes. Would you like to see?”

I nodded to him but by then his hands were roving across my body and all other thoughts had evaporated. After a few minutes of him stimulating me into another partial frenzy, he suddenly stopped and sat up. He turned so that his back was to me and then grabbed for my hand, running it over the space right above his bum. I was surprised I hadn’t noticed it before, but then I hadn’t had the opportunity to spend much time over Harry’s arse, yet. In black ink, in a perfect line drawing, was the symbol for the Deathly Hallows, no bigger than a Galleon.

            “Wot, no Snitch, Harry?” I teased, but right away I could see how the latter might have become an altogether different meaning after his experience with Dumbledore’s legacy to him.

He looked over his shoulder and gave me one of his patented lopsided Chosen One grins, guaranteed to woo witches all over the land.

            “No, that would have been rather cheap. Although, I did have a huge rendering of Fluffy on my back at one point,” he joked with a straight face.

I grinned back before letting my hand stroke over the mark a few more times. Harry’s skin was still warm and inviting.

            “Did you really have a piercing through your cock, Harry?”

His eyebrows flew up but his expression remained amused. He only nodded his head in the affirmative before turning back around, kneeling this time as he bent over me, taking hold of my thighs as he spread them apart. I sucked in another deep breath.

            “Did it hurt? When you got it?” I prodded in breathy earnestness.

            “Only in the best way,” he declared gruffly before shifting my body so that he was between my legs again, his focus no longer on the discussion but on what he was doing to my insides.

I let him do what he would while enjoying every second, but my craving for him wouldn’t dissipate for the rest of the day after I’d left him, nor into the night. Frankly, it was starting to worry me.

~0~~~

That evening at home, I could barely make a move without thinking about him and it made my mind wander aimlessly at every opportunity. Ron kept prompting me with my name at the dinner table and I’d look at him blankly completely lost in the conversation. I tried to lay the blame on a new diet, and I even trotted out the excuse I’d used on Molly earlier, that I’d gone to see a holistic healer for my symptoms of late. Ron seemed to buy it, but he kept giving me dodgy looks all night, like he’d suspected I’d lost the plot. I couldn’t even summon up the decency to feel guilty about it any longer I was so deep in my thoughts of Harry and his amazing hands. It suddenly occurred to me that I’d need to do better at masking my moods if I didn’t want to be caught. And just like that a decision was cemented.

I was going to keep seeing Harry.

Days went by at a crawl when I couldn’t see him, however. I worked on my best impression of ‘good’ Hermione when I was surrounded by others, but at home with Rose, I would frequently give in to my baser desires the minute she had a kip. I couldn’t seem to stop masturbating and it would only increase my longing for Harry and the feel of his body on mine. I would accuse myself of not doing enough for him; how I hadn’t shown him the proper appreciation when I’d had the chance. And when I would finally get to see him in my house or at the Burrow, he appeared handsomer than when I’d last laid eyes on him. It was bloody torture not being able to drop before his feet and worship his cock, for the more I thought about that objet d’art, the more I chastised myself for not taking it in my mouth and relishing every inch of it when it had been within reach. I promised that I would rectify the situation the very next time we were alone together.

But that proved to be a wait. He and Ron grew busier on their case, and several nights in a row I didn’t even have Ron’s body to pacify my needs. I grew more crotchety and impatient as each day ticked by with no bell from Harry. How much could one woman take? I griped to the furniture. After the second Sunday of watching him cozy up to Ginny at the Burrow brunch, I was ready to combust into flames. Feeling those eyes scrape over me as we all sat for the meal was finally too much and I decided I needed to be proactive. As soon as I saw Harry break away for the loo, I waited a few minutes before excusing myself to check up on Rose. Everyone was involved in loud conversation, as per usual, and Ron was in a heated argument with Bill, so I made a dash for the upstairs before Harry could finish. He was stepping out of the bathroom just as I ran up to the door.

            “Harry!” I was out of breath after running up the stairway but I was cautious to keep my voice at a whisper.

He froze where he stood for a moment before suddenly wrapping a hand around my wrist and tugging me with him as he strode backwards towards Ginny’s old room. He cocked his head once to listen for downstairs but then reached for the doorknob behind him and turned it. In one swift motion, we were both in her room as he locked the door at my back and then pushed me flatly into the wood as his mouth descended on me. I felt ravenous, groping him like an insane person, eager to get my hands on his flesh. One leg hitched up over his hip and he grabbed hold of it, the insistent press of his bulge against my crotch making me instantly wet.

            “Sweet Rowena, I’ve been dying to touch you all night,” he claimed in urgent hisses. “I’m going barking not being able to see you.”

            “When?” I pulled back and held his face in my hands, my gaze beseeching him for an actual date. “I need to see you. When can we meet? Tell me now.”

            “I haven’t been able to make it happen, luv; I’m sorry. You know it’s all I think about, when I can be with you. But between the case, and Gin, and then I’ve got James and now Teddy on weekends, it’s been impossible.”

            “You can’t get away during work?” I pressed, not willing to leave the room without a meeting firmly set.

He looked at me gravely for a moment then scanned the room. When he looked me in the eyes again, he was resolute.

            “Okay. There’s no way I can do it tomorrow, but...Tuesday, I have to go meet this chap in the country for an interview. I expect it will take up a bit of my day, but I can probably get away with spending an hour or two at Grimmauld Place before I head back to make my report. Will you be able to meet me as soon as I ring you up? I don’t know exactly when that will be, though.”

            “It’s alright, I’ll keep my afternoon free,” I assured him, feeling the tension in my arms and legs loosen. “I’ll be ready when you call.”

My arms were still around his neck and when he bent his head toward me I was quick to crash my lips into his. Tuesday seemed ridiculously far away. He moved his mouth along my jaw, down my throat, over my breasts, until he was kneeling on the floor, his hands grappling with the fasteners of my trousers.

            “God, I want to inhale you.”

In mere seconds he had them shimmied down my hips and, along with my knickers, pulled them far enough down while he pried open my thighs so that he could plunge his tongue into what had to be a sopping slit. He did this three times, rapidly and insistently, before pulling away and hiking my pants back up. He stood up and fixed my buttons, straightened my blouse until I looked decent, then turned me around to face the door.

            “You go out first then I’ll wait two minutes before I leave.”

I looked back over my shoulder.

            “Til Tuesday, then?”

            “Yes,” he confirmed, “Tuesday it is. And you’d best be prepared for me because I intend to shag you senseless.”

A/N: Thanks again to Daye and SoftObsidian for their beta help. We had an interesting discussion on what kind of state the wizarding world would be in after the war. I definitely could see some changes being implemented in regards to Muggleborns and the culture they grew up with.

For some reason, I kept seeing Hermione as Allison Goldfrapp when she was dressing up for Harry, hence the musical interlude. Good inspiration for a sex scene, as well, I might add. Hope I can get the next chapter up for you sooner.
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Folie a Deux

Chapter 7