Harry and Lavender weren't exactly slick, slipping in late to the feast after a chunk of the First Years had already been sorted. Parvati, at least, looked at them like she knew exactly what they'd been up to. Harry got similar looks from Ginny and Hermione, though theirs seemed slightly annoyed. Neither of them were Lavender's biggest fan.
But as Harry sat, choosing a seat between Ginny and Parvati, they talked about ordinary things. Unlike in previous years, there weren't any major announcements, like Umbridge's arrival or the declaration of the Triwizard tournament's return. Instead, the closest thing they got was the knowledge that Slughorn WASN'T going to be teaching defense.
"It's my great pleasure to inform you," Dumbledore said, "that Professor Slughorn will be resuming his teaching of potions, the same position he retired from. Professor Snape will be taking responsibility for Defense Against the Dark Arts."
That was no pleasure to Harry. In fact, it felt like someone had conjured frigid water all down his back.
Now, in the year he most needed to be learning, he had the professor that hated his guts since he was a child teaching the most important subject? The idea made him so angry that he nearly blew his food off his plate with a bit of accidental magic, barely catching himself.
"Snape?" Ron asked, speaking the same thoughts Harry was having. "That git?"
"Maybe he'll be better at this," Hermione suggested without much hope.
"Potions is what he knows the best," Ron said. "The problem isn't that he doesn't know stuff. It's that he's an insufferable little dungeon bat."
"Harry," Parvati whispered, leaning over. "I really think you should give it another go."
Harry nodded, still scowling.
He would definitely be restarting the DA. His fellow students, who trusted him so much, needed it. But how to teach them… Maybe he could bring in other people to help teach? Now that the need for secrecy wasn't quite so strong? He'd have to think more about it.
"Can you pass the pumpkin juice?" a voice suddenly asked.
Harry looked up, finding Lavender leaning forward on the opposite side of the table. She smiled innocently, holding out her hands for the jug that was sitting next to Harry. If he didn' know better, he would've said it was an accident that she gave him a view straight down her shirt of nearly the entirety of one of her breasts.
Sitting near him, Neville gulped loudly while Ron's eyes widened. Harry was glad it wasn't the other one that they could see; if it was, they would've been staring at his fingerprints all over it, and wouldn't that have been hard to explain away.
He handed the jug over, and Lavender accepted it gratefully. Although, as she held it above her cup, she seemed to ponder the best place to hold it in order to safely pour the contents, trying out a variety of grips. The result was her hand sliding up and down the jug's long, cylindrical neck, her wrist flicking suggestively. Ron shifted, appearing to hide something in his lap.
Hermione cleared her throat loudly, making a point of returning the conversation back to classes to help ignore Lavender's antics.
Harry did notice that the atmosphere in the Great Hall was different. He was often the center of attention, but now, with everyone acknowledging that Voldemort had returned, it did feel as if things had gotten more extreme awfully quickly. Even at the Gryffindor table, it had changed slightly. He kept catching groups of girls leaning forward or back to get a look at him, giggling with their friends. Most of them were younger… but he even spotted a few Seventh Years at it.
When the feast ended, all the Gryffindors rose and filed out of the Great Hall, just like all the houses were doing. The First Years were led in front, guided through the halls by Ron and…
Harry blinked. He could only see the redhead. Where was Hermione?
As he passed an empty hallway, one which only led to a series of lesser-used classrooms, hands grabbed him and pulled him along. They weren't all that strong, and if he chose to, he was sure he could've resisted. But he recognized the soft touch of these fingers.
He certainly recognized something else soft, too, when they pressed into him the moment he was out of sight around a corner.
Hermione's tits pressed against his chest, slightly larger than the magnificent ones that Lavender had teased him with all day. She had him pinned against the wall, her hands planted on either side of him, a frown on her lips.
"Don't you have duties to be a dealing with?" Harry teased.
Hermione's response was to kiss him. Her tongue was fierce and pushy, working furiously against his. She kissed him like there was a wand to her head, like she'd be cursed if she let him breathe for a single second.
Her hands moved to her collar, clenching around it to drag him closer. Riding the mood, Harry reached around her, gripping her bum and lifting her feet off the ground, pulling her up into the kiss.
When they broke apart, both of them were red in the face from lack of breath.
"I can do it too," Hermione said. "Whatever Lavender can do, I can do it."
"Are you jealous?" Harry asked. "Of Lavender? Really?"
"I know she wants you," Hermione said. "She didn't even try to hide it!"
"And you've already had me," Harry reminded her, before leaning in. "Every inch of me."
He kissed her again, although this one was much shorter.
"I know that!" Hermione said. "And… It's not like we're dating. You're you, Harry, and I know girls will want you. It's just…"
"Something about Lavender," Harry said.
"We shared a dorm for years," Hermione mumbled. "It's not like she did anything in particular, but boys always went crazy for her. I thought, sometimes, about how she didn't have teeth that were too big, or frizzy hair. It felt like maybe she was what a girl was supposed to be like."
Unable to hold himself hearing that, or seeing the sad look on Hermione's face, Harry carried her deeper down the hall, away from the voices of students. He kicked a door to an abandoned classroom, entered, and shut it behind him with his heel. He lit the room with a touch of wandless magic, something that was becoming easier and easier.
The room must have been used fairly recently, because it hadn't had time to accumulate more than the thinnest layer or dust. There were lots of chairs in rows facing a large desk for a professor to use. Harry marched to the professor's desk and dropped Hermione across it, allowing her to sprawl out.
Before she had more time to grunt, he was tearing open her robes, revealing her straining bra beneath. He grabbed this with two hands, popping it straight down the middle, watching her breasts bob free.
The window he'd opened in Hermione's robes went all the way down her narrow hips, revealing a wedge of her flat stomach, with a little bit of her panties peaking through at the base. Harry's hands roved her, stroking her sides and feeling her bellybutton on their way up, where they eventually nestled around her breasts, squeezing roughly.
While Hermione mewled, Harry said, "You look like this… and you're worried about not being enough of a woman?"
"Oh I know it doesn't make sense!" Hermione complained, struggling to get the words out under his touch. "I shouldn't have said anything!"
"No," Harry said firmly. "You should tell me. If you don't feel sure about something, or if something's making you nervous, let me know. I promise, I'll do everything in my power to make you feel better." He leaned forward, easing his weight over her, digging his fingers into her breast. "Even if that means fucking the everliving shit out of you, until you understand what an incredibly sexy woman you've become."
Hermione wailed, writhing underneath him and biting into her bottom lip. "Harry, I need it!"
Grinning, Harry set about his work. It was his cock she was begging for, and by Merlin she was getting that tonight, in as many different positions as they could manage. But first, he felt like proving his point a different way.
He grabbed Hermione by her hips, yanking her to the edge of the desk, moving her weight effortlessly. When she was in the proper place, her pulled her robes the rest of the way down, revealing her simple beige panties in their entirety.
Grasping the edges, he brought them slowly down her tanned thighs. He eased them off, over one ankle, before leaving them hooked on the other, just to add eroticism. Hermione, who thought he was readying her for his cock, wiggled in anticipation, only to gasp when he dropped to his knees instead.
Harry buried his tongue into her as if it was his last meal. And if it really were, he could've died happily. Hermione tasted sweet inside, as sopping wet as if her were lapping at a bowl of soup. Harry reached up, grabbing her hourglass hips to hold her in place while his tongue did its work. He drove his tongue inside of her, feeling her warmth.
After a few moments of getting his bearings, he went straight for the clit. With growing ease, he located the nerves he was after. And, because the tongue was so much softer than stiff fingers, he saw no need to hold back.
He attacked her clit with all the strength his tongue could muster. Hermione's dainty hands, which had at first gripped his wrists, reached all the way down, her back contorting so that she could grab chunks of his hair. Harry didn't mind. Even now, in the throes of pleasure, her touch was naturally gentle. That was just how Hermione was.
"Harry, I… I can't…" she stuttered, her eyes half shut from pleasure. "Get out of there! You're going to get… Ohhhhhhhhhhh!"
She wailed. Her fingers went slack in his hair, while she collapsed back against the table. Harry sensed her orgasm coming, and stayed completely still on purpose, leaving himself in its path.
Clear fluid splattered across his face. It got into his mouth and made his cheeks shine. But he was as happy as could be as he stood up, shedding his robes.
His cock, erect now, still bore the signs of Lavender's lips. Hermione saw this, recognizing it for what it was. But rather than his cock, her eyes kept returning to Harry's soaked face.
"Lavender said she was marking me," Harry admitted, glancing at his cock. "But, look who else has marked me."
Hermione eyed her juices, dripping off of him.
"I am going to fuck Lavender," Harry admitted, "and she isn't going to be the last. This way I've been living… I've gotten used to it, and I don't want to go back. I don't want to hurt you. If it would be better, we can call this off, and never do something like this again. But if you nod now, and you tell me you want it, I am going to bang your brains out… and I'll do it again, any time you ask."
Hermione swallowed. Slowly, almost timidly, she bobbed her head.
Harry grinned, leaping onto the table.
Hermione yelped as he joined her. In Gringotts, when they enjoyed their first time, he had been on top, her legs wrapped around his waist while he thrust into her from above. This position was similar… except for the fact that he grabbed her legs by the underside of her thighs, pinning them beside her hips.
Hermione gasped, suggesting she didn't even know she could adopt such a shape, until a strong man like Harry came along and folded her as he liked. Unable to hold back any longer, Harry slammed hips down, filling up Hermione with a great loud smack.
The wood of the desk groaned and grunted beneath them while his hips worked. Hermione was screaming from the very start, left vulnerable for him by the new position. Her hands came up, rubbing Harry's chest while her tits shook wildly, jiggling from the force Harry was putting into her body.
They made eye contact through every thrust, and every tremor Hermione experienced. It was as if they couldn't look away from each other; like they weren't physically capable of such an act. Harry had stared into those eyes so many times over the best years of his life. When he was in danger, when he was doing something as idle as studying, even when he celebrated holidays, so many times he had seen Hermione's brown eyes, but never like this.
It was a completely new emotion. It was love, of some kind, mixed with an unbelievable amount of lust, mixed with relief. She was excited that he wanted her. She was proud that her body was good enough for him. Harry couldn't understand how such doubts were possible, but as good as his word he was going to fuck her until they were nothing but a distant memory.
Harry continued pounding her rhythmically for so long that he was sure his roommates must be in bed by now. There was no way of telling time in that classroom, but it felt like an entire night, as if they might walk out and accidentally find the sun rising. He didn't want this to end. Hermione was so soft, and so warm, and so perfect. But, with a partner like that, there was only so long that even his best efforts could buy.
This time, for the first time ever with Hermione, Harry did not both pulling himself out. He came inside her, filling her womb with his seed, making her gasp at the warm feeling in her loins. Hermione orgasmed again when she felt his gift, shuddering all across her body.
"Why?" she gasped, not sounding angry, but confused.
"To prove my point," he said simply. "I really mean it. Whatever you want, I'll give it to you any time."
Hermione surged up, drawing strength from somewhere Harry couldn't guess, capturing his lips with as much enthusiasm as she had in the hallway. This time, though, it was different. There was passion, but not desperation, and definitely no fear.
"Fuck me again, Harry Potter," Hermione begged with lidded eyes, her warm pussy still hugging his cock.
Harry resolved, right then and there, not to leave that room until Hermione couldn't walk on her own two feet. And then he bucked his hips, plowing into Hermione again, while her arms wrapped tightly around his neck…
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